The Long Road Home [The Final McCassey Brothers Book] (7 page)

When he began to look like he was almost convinced, she added the clincher. “Not only that, you're re-opening the garage tomorrow and have to be at work in less than six hours. Please go, I'll be okay."

He sighed and shrugged. “Fine. I'll go. But you have to promise me that you'll call if you need anything. I live right down the street; I can be awake, dressed, and over here in less than five minutes."

She promised. Even though she'd already decided that no matter how bad she started to feel, she'd go it alone until Judd came to see her at six o'clock the next morning.

Georgia liked Rebel, she really did. But most of the time, felt very uncomfortable around him. He was smart and respectable, and she didn't feel like they had very much in common. To tell the truth, half the time, she wasn't really even sure what to say to him; always feeling like no matter what she said, it was never the right thing.

"Here's the phone,” he said, placing the large, cordless handset on the nightstand next to the bed. “And here are our numbers. Blackie's is first,” he pointed out, “then Judd's, and mine's at the bottom."

"I'll be fine, Rebel."

"So you said,” he said with a hint of sarcasm, almost as if he didn't believe her. “But just in case you're not, I want you to call me. Understand?"

"Yes, I understand. Thank you for your concern, but I swear I'll be okay.” She pulled her arm out from underneath the covers and waved him off. “Now go home to your wife and family."

Wordlessly, Rebel switched off the light and turned away, hesitating only a moment before walking out the door.

The click of the door closing was like music to Georgia's ears. Thankful to finally be alone, she felt the same way she did when she was nine years old and her mother let her stay home alone for the first time. Happiness, excitement, and a sense of freedom washed over her.

Her brothers hadn't let her out of their sight in four days. Four days. That was a long time to be watched every minute of the day. The only time she'd had any privacy was when she went to the bathroom, which was inconveniently down the hall, and even then one of them was always waiting outside the door.

Yes, she would definitely be fine.

Georgia would show Blackie, Judd, and Rebel that she was as tough as they were; that she could handle anything, just like they could.

All she had to do was make it through the next six hours.

Closing her eyes, she maneuvered herself just a little—doing her best not to ruin Rebel's tuck-in job, because he'd taken such care to make sure she was comfortable—and settled in.

An entire hour passed before the first leg cramps began. Georgia woke with a start when her left calf began to feel like it was being squeezed in a vice. Doing her best to rub it out, she sat up too quickly and was hit with a sudden wave of violent nausea. Since it was pitch black in the room, she had to guess where her bucket was, and hoped she hit it when she leaned over the side of the bed.

Her hopes that the feeling would pass were short-lived when she broke out into a cold sweat. Unable to crawl back under the covers because she was still throwing up, Georgia lay on top of the blankets shivering, crying, and wishing she hadn't sent Rebel home.

She had no idea how much time had passed since she first began to feel bad; she only knew that it seemed like it'd been hours.

This was by far the worst she'd been since starting her detox. Right this minute, she didn't care about the promise she'd made Rebel ... didn't care that someone—probably Judd—was going to walk in and find her in the morning, and probably be scared to death that she was dying.

If she was lucky, she
would
die.

If she was lucky, Blackie wouldn't have flushed her stash of heroin down the toilet.

If she was lucky, there would've been just enough light in the pitch black room to guide Georgia to the window ... the window that she knew opened by simply sliding the lock a little to the right ... a window she also knew she could fit through ... where she could end all the pain right now...

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Judd wasn't sure if it was a good or bad sign that Rebel's pickup truck wasn't in the parking lot when he arrived at the garage at five-thirty Monday morning.

Rebel was supposed to have been sitting with Georgia until six o'clock, when it would've been Judd's turn to take over. But he wasn't at the garage ... at least, he didn't appear to be.

What the hell is going on?

Judd opened the middle bay door and left it that way, just in case. “Rebel!” Judd hollered as he entered the quiet, dark garage and flicked on the lights.

No answer.

That's strange
. Judd was sure his younger brother would've at least come down from the apartment and turned on the lights; especially since they were reopening the garage for business in thirty minutes after the long, four-day weekend.

Deciding that maybe Rebel had fallen asleep and didn't hear his name being called, Judd crossed the garage and headed for the set of metal steps that led up to the apartment.

That's when he heard it.

From the hallway, the noises were muffled. But once Judd opened the door to the apartment, they were clear as day.

Not only was Georgia crying; she'd been sick, too. The odor was so strong it'd already reached the doorway. Why hadn't Rebel emptied the bucket?

Reaching inside, Judd felt along the wall for the light switch. Once he found it, the room was instantly lit with one hundred watts of electricity.

The picture of what came into view turned Judd's stomach.

Drenched in sweat and shivering uncontrollably, Georgia was sitting on the floor wrapped in an equally wet bed sheet, huddled in the corner of the room near the window. Her hair was soaked—some of it matted to her head—her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and her nose was running.

She lifted her head and looked up when he entered the room, but didn't say anything, and made no effort to clean her face, even by wiping it on her sleeve or the sheet, to make herself more presentable.

He knew right then that Georgia was in trouble.

Judd wanted to run to her. He wanted to hold her and comfort her like he would one of his nieces when they were hurt. But he knew he needed to approach her carefully.

Taking a few tentative steps in her direction, Judd spoke calmly and quietly. “Georgia?"

"I c-c-couldn't g-g-get it o-open,” she said through chattering teeth, her nose so stuffy from crying that she sounded as if she was talking with a clothespin on her nose.

What was she talking about? “Couldn't get what open, honey?"

She attempted to sniff, but her nose was too stuffy. Instead, she lifted her sleeve and dragged it across her face, then took in a deep breath. “T-the w-w-window."

"The window?” Why would she ... and then it hit him. Either she'd wanted to open the window to air out the apartment, or she'd wanted to jump. By the looks of her, something told him that she didn't give a damn what the room smelled like.

Oh God, Georgia had wanted to kill herself.

And if she'd been able to get that window open, she would've succeeded.

Shit! Where the hell was Rebel?

Before Judd could say another word, Georgia leaned over, grabbed the trashcan next to her, and threw up.

Judd did run to her then, sweeping her hair away from her face and holding it behind her neck as she retched.

When she finally finished minutes later, she let go of the trashcan and collapsed back against the wall.

"Judd?” she managed to say in a barely audible voice that made her shallow breathing sound almost non-existent.

But Judd ignored her. He was too busy scooping her into his arms—wet sheets and all. Once he had a firm hold on her, he turned around ... just as his brothers flew through the door.

"Where the hell were you, goddammit? You were supposed to be here!” he yelled at Rebel. “Look at her!"

Judd didn't miss the look of pure guilt that crossed Rebel's face as he studied Georgia's limp form lying in Judd's arms. He didn't miss the cold, lethal one Blackie was wearing, either.

"L-l-leave him alone,” Georgia defended Rebel, “its n-not his f-fault. I m-made him leave."

Shocked that she'd even attempted to speak, Judd looked down at his sister, lying still and unmoving in his arms, waiting for some kind of explanation.

But she didn't offer one.

She'd been adamant about them not blaming Rebel; yet she hadn't said another word. In fact, she hadn't even bothered to open her eyes, and looked as though she'd passed out.

Then, suddenly, she began shivering more violently, causing Judd to tighten his hold.

"Shit!” Blackie cursed. He made a move toward Judd, attempting to take Georgia from him, but Judd backed away.

"We need to get her warm,” Blackie explained. “She's freezin’ cold, Judd, and dammit, look at her, she's a mess. We gotta get her cleaned up."

"Shower,” Rebel suggested. “You boys know how hot the water gets in that bathroom. She can get warm, and we can clean her up at the same time."

Angrier than Judd had seen him in a long time, Blackie turned on Rebel and took a step forward, convincing Judd that the two of them were going to start throwing punches at each other right there in the doorway. “She can't take no shower, Rebel!” Blackie shouted. “She can't even stand up."

The expression on Rebel's face grew dark, and he looked as though he had plenty to say. But Judd spoke first. “Then I'll just have to get in there with her. We'll soak her, clothes and all, until she's warm. That should take care of cleaning her off, too. We can worry about washing her hair and getting into dry clothes later."

Almost as if they were ignoring Judd, Blackie and Rebel continued to stare each other down.

"What the hell is wrong with the two of you?” Judd asked impatiently. “Did either one of you hear a thing I just said?"

When they didn't respond fast enough, Judd decided that he didn't have time to hang around waiting for his brothers to calm down. Georgia needed help. Now. And right this minute, it looked as if he was the only one who was going to give it to her. “Move!” he yelled as he pushed past Blackie and Rebel and headed down the hall toward the bathroom.

Once inside, Judd didn't need to look over his shoulder to know both his brothers were right behind him. “Turn on the water!” he instructed, not caring which one of them did it, just as long as it got done.

Limited to just three people in the bathroom due to its small size, Blackie remained in the hallway as Rebel turned on the shower and Judd stepped into the stall—completely clothed—with Georgia in his arms.

She was fully alert the instant the first drops of water splashed onto her face. And although she was still shivering, she was also struggling to break away from Judd. “P-p-put me down!"

Judd tightened his hold, refusing to let go. “Hold still!"

"Dammit, Judd!” she protested, “let me go!"

He ignored her and continued to hold her in the direct stream of water for a good two more minutes. “You need to clean up, Georgia. If I put you down, will you stay in here, soap yourself up, and wash your hair?"

Soaking wet with water running down her face and dripping off her nose, Georgia looked at Rebel, who was staring at her, then tilted her head and glanced at Blackie, who was standing just outside the doorway, also staring at her.

Squinting, she gave Judd a dirty look. “Of course I'll stay in here. You don't think I'd get very far with the two of them blocking the door, do you?"

Well, she's not stuttering or shivering anymore, so at least she's warm. And that damn smartass comment she made must mean she's feeling better.

Or that she's royally pissed.

Judd smiled as he slowly set Georgia on her feet, wanting to pat himself on the back for having a direct hand in helping his sister, instead of just allowing his brothers to figure out a plan. He then stepped out of the shower stall, soaking the floor. His clothes, hair, and steel toe work boots were drenched, and he prayed that he still had an extra set of clothes stashed in one of the dresser drawers in the apartment. If not, it was going to be a long, cold ride home.

"Finish your shower and get dressed,” he told his sister as he towel-dried his hair, then crossed his arms and pulled his wet T-shirt over his head, “then meet us back in the apartment. We have some talking to do."

Just to let her know he was in control of the situation now, Judd stared at her as he took his time untying and removing his boots. Along with his shoes and socks, he tossed them in the corner and kept eye contact with her until the bathroom door was completely closed.

Once they were back inside the apartment, Blackie immediately strode to the window and opened it; obviously trying to get rid of the stench in the room. The cold blast of air that hit him reminded Judd that he needed to search the dresser for his clothes. Relieved to find the extra set he'd put there for an emergency, he pulled them out and began changing right there in front of his brothers.

Blackie busied himself by unrolling a pack of Marlboro's from his shirt sleeve and lighting a cigarette while Rebel went to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.

"Goddamn, little brother,” Blackie said when Judd was once again dressed. “I'm impressed with the way you handled Georgia in there."

"I don't know why,” Judd spat, still irritated that his brothers had been no help at all. “I did the same thing you or Rebel would've done if you hadn't been distracted by exchanging dirty, you-can't-kill-me-because-I'm-going-to-kill-you-first looks. What the hell is the matter with you two?"

Judd watched Blackie take a step toward Rebel, and was genuinely surprised when Blackie held his fist in the air—something he and his brothers had done as a show of support for each other since they were little kids. “Sorry, Reb, I know what happened to Georgia ain't your fault."

Rebel touched his fist lightly against Blackie's. “I should've been here. Georgia was fine when I left around midnight, I swear. She ate a bowl of soup, took a shower, and told me she was tired. I hung around until she was almost asleep, figuring she'd be fine until Judd came in this morning. I left the phone and all our numbers on the table next to the bed. She promised to call if she needed anything.” Rebel shook his head and lowered it. “I should've stayed."