The Terms of Release (21 page)

“I’m not saying I can’t deal. I’m just saying I have to figure it out.” Everyone and his neighbor wanted him to walk away. Christ.

“Good.” Bulldog grinned, that one gold tooth that matched Wilma’s shining. “You make him a little stupid. That’s got to be worth something for both of y’all.”

“He’s worth a lot, Bull. I mean it.” Maybe he ought to take those letters back to Sage, unopened, and apologize. Hell, he didn’t know. “Maybe some pie will make me feel more settled.”

“Pie helps everything. Shit, have a piece, then take one back to him. I’ve never seen a person with such a sweet tooth.”

“He missed out on a lot, I guess.” Win nodded slowly. “I’ll have mine here. Tell Wilma to pick something yummy for Sage, though.”

“Baby, pie for the deputy and something for Redding.”

“You got it. Chocolate silk for here and cherry to go.”

“Thanks, man. How’s everyone holding up this way?” He knew Bulldog and his biker friends were catching a little extra hell for being friendly with the Reddings.

“Good. Good, we’re having a big ride for toys after Thanksgiving. We’ll bring them to you to dole out.”

“Good deal. I look forward to that every year.”

“Me too, man. I fucking love it.” Bulldog gave him a glinting grin and a wink.

“I bet. You get to ride, and no one can harass you.”

“You know it. Sometimes you have to remind close-minded assholes that they don’t know everything.”

“I did that today.” Win grimaced. “Then I freaked out.”

“Now you’ll get over it.” Bulldog passed him a plate and a to-go box.

“I will. I hope Sage can too.” Win wondered when Sage would have enough of him.

“He will. He’s one strong son of a bitch.”

“He is.” One way or the other, Sage was strong, good, and deserved a chance at happiness.

Damn it, so did he. Win loved the fine, stubborn bastard.

Maybe it was time to go back and tell him. The past could stay where it belonged. They had a future to work on.

T
HERE
WAS
a storm coming down on the ranch. Fucking wonderful. Sage could see it, just hovering up to the north, the blue sky damn near black on the other side of the front yard. God damn it. It was just what he fucking needed after his morning.

He whistled up the horses, hurrying to beat the rain that his knees insisted was coming. “Come on, you evil bitches. You don’t want to be out here in this shit, and neither do I!” His lead mare, Sugar, lifted her head, her ears swiveling. Then she snorted, her head bobbing like she was nodding, before heading toward the barn.

“Good girl.” The others started following, and he looked around, making sure there wasn’t anything else to tie up or wrap up before that storm hit. Momma and Daddy were back from town—he could see their good F150 sitting up there. Sister was in town with girlfriends, and he had a pot of chili to warm up on top of the stove.

He shivered, feeling like the wind was blowing no damned good. Sage hated that feeling. It had been showing up less and less, so when it happened it hurt, down in the pit of his belly. Today had been all about hurting. “Come on, everybody.”

He started flinging feed, the wind dying down, like the world was waiting to let loose. In the end, the microburst beat him to the house, drenching him to the bone, the wind lifting him right off his feet.

He crashed into the little front porch, holding on with one hand, his knees screaming. The door. He had to get the front door open to relieve the pressure, or he’d lose his windows.

Come on. Come on, Sage.

He stumbled up, the trailer beginning to shake, the walls damn near breathing. No way. He got the door open, and it slammed against the wall, his all-healed-up Penny jumping up and whining at him, tail wagging a little.

“Stay, baby.”

Please, God. Please. Let Adam be safe. Momma and Daddy too
.

A sound like a freight train started, filling the air like all the angels in Heaven were screaming. Oh, sweet Heaven. He knew that sound. No way it was anything but a tornado. His trailer would be no damned good against it. He and Penny needed to get Momma and Daddy somewhere safe.

“Come on.” He grabbed her collar. “Now. Move!”

Penny barked once, then crouched down, whining, and he pulled hard, making her come. There’d never been a longer run from his place to the main house.

Not once.

His knees creaked with every running step, and it was Penny dragging him by the end, his hand clenched around her collar so hard he couldn’t let go. Debris was flying, stinging his back and neck.

The front porch peeled away as he reached the side door, and he hit the dirt, covering Penny with his body. She shook and whined, but she didn’t try to struggle away from him. They both knew.

“Shh. Shh.”
Please God. Please, let my family be safe.
He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing dirt filtered by Penny’s fur.

The earth shook so hard he thought it was gonna open up and swallow him. He might deserve to go to hell, but Penny didn’t. He felt his feet lift up, and for a split second, Sage thought he’d be sucked right up, like Dorothy in Kansas.

Then something smacked his head, and he blacked right out, everything going quiet.

T
HE
SOUND
of crying pushed into his ears, and Sage frowned, coughing as icy water bashed down against him. “Momma?”

“Oh God, I thought you were dead. Sage. We need you to get up.”

“Is it past us?”

“The rain is bad, but the rest is gone by.” She tugged at him, her hair plastered down, her chin smeared with blood.

“Where’s Daddy?” He tried to stand, but his left knee buckled, the pain washing the color clean out of the world.

“I need your help, Son! He’s in the rubble!”

“Daddy?” Shit. Okay, his knee could just fucking wait. He set his teeth against the agony and started crawling. “Daddy! Daddy, where are you? I’m coming!”

When he got no answer, Sage scrambled, trying to get where Momma was, back at work digging. Penny barked, running back and forth, scratching at what used to be a hunk of the porch.

“Good girl. Good girl. Find him. Find Daddy.” He made it over, dragging his leg with him. “
Daddy!
Goddamn it! You answer me!”

His scream sounded foreign, scared. His mother was no better, her gulping sobs a terrible counterpoint to the pouring rain.

Penny yelped sharply, starting to dig furiously at the rubble. There. That had to be it.

He dragged himself over and tore at the wood. “Here. Momma. Here.”

Daddy’s fingers were right there.
Fuck. Fuck!
“Daddy I got you. I’m coming.”

“Oh God. Oh God, please.” His momma turned into a superhero, tossing wood and shingles aside that she shouldn’t be able to lift.

He got Daddy’s face uncovered, then pulled, getting him out of the rubble. “Daddy? Daddy, come on now. Talk to us.”

Don’t you fucking die on me. Not now. Not today. Please, Daddy.

He scrabbled in his back pocket, praying that his phone wasn’t broke-dick, that he could call someone. He got a screen, the emergency number right there. Momma had to hold Penny, so Sage dug with his other hand while he shouted into the phone.

“We need an ambulance. Please. My father is buried here, and he’s not responding.” How did he sound so coherent? “Tell ’em to hurry! Daddy? Daddy, can you hear me? I’m getting you out. Right now.”

Momma was sobbing, cussing in between. That was his momma, tough even in the hard times. The lady on the phone was telling him to stay put, to tell them where he was exactly, that cell phones weren’t like landlines. He just babbled, giving her anything that might help.

They got him mostly uncovered, and Daddy was gray, blood on his lips. Momma was holding Daddy’s hand and talking hard, and Sage’s eyes were on the clouds as he prayed.
Please, God. Jesus. Take me instead. I ain’t worth shit no more. I’m just an ex-con that ain’t never gonna catch a break. Take me. Daddy’s a good man, and Momma needs him.

It seemed to take years for the sirens to show up, and somehow he expected one of them to be Adam. None of them were, and it wasn’t fair to be disappointed, but Sage was. He needed a rock.

Hell, at the moment, he could use a friend.

His phone started ringing, and he grabbed it. “Whut?”

“Bubba, the radio said… I’m driving that way,” Rosie said.

“Don’t. Meet us at Presbyterian.”

“Are you…?”

“Daddy. Just hurry. Ambulance is here.”

“Oh God.” She gulped, her voice shaking. “I’ll be right there.”

“Pray. Pray hard.” He hung up and tried to stand, screaming as his leg buckled, the sound from the bone making his eyes roll back in his head.

“Sage.” His momma was trying to reach for him and hold on to Daddy. “You’re bleeding.”

“Sir, you need to sit down.” The EMT was there, and a fireman Sage knew from Bulldog’s bike brigade. “We’ll get your father loaded and get your leg splinted.”

“You just work on Daddy. His name’s Sam. Sam Redding.”

“We’ll get him out. I promise.” The boys went to work, and Sage slid in and out of consciousness until someone touched his leg.

“Fuck!” His eyes popped open. “Don’t fucking touch it.”

“I have to, Sage.” Denny was a big, grizzled biker, but he was steady as a rock and had gentle hands. “We have to get you in the bus.”

“Is Daddy gonna be okay, Den?”

Denny’s mouth flattened into a hard line. “I don’t know, Sage. I ain’t gonna lie. He’s bad off. You need to let me get your leg immobile so we can get you both in.”

“Fuck. Okay. Okay, whatever you have to do, do it. Let’s get him to the hospital.”

He set his teeth, eyes on a piece of soffit that was dangling from where the porch roof had pulled away. He’d have to fix that, when it came time. Momma would make a list.

Denny wrenched his leg into position, and Sage screamed, flashbacks of prison breaking into his brain like glass shattering.

“Okay. Okay, you got it. You got it. We’re moving you now.”

He was soaked—with blood and sweat and rain—and beginning to shake. The jolt as they lifted him into the ambulance made him fight not to puke. Daddy was on the stretcher, so he had to sit in one of the wells.

He closed his eyes and prayed. It was all that was in him to do. The rest was in someone else’s hands.

T
HE
FIRST
sign of trouble was Jamison Allworthy pulling up outside the diner and braking hard enough that gravel flew up against the front window.

“Goddamn it, Win,” Jamie snarled when he threw open the door. “Where the hell is your radio? Why is your phone off?”

“What? Why? What happened?” Shit. He scrambled for his phone.

“Tornado. Touched down a few times, cut a swath just north of town.” Jamie grabbed his arm, tugging him out, even as Bulldog and Wilma called out to him.

“Injuries?” He had a dozen voice mails. God
damn
it.

“I haven’t heard too much, man. I was working traffic at the south end of the county.”

“Fuck.” He put the phone up to his ear and headed toward his truck. The first voice mail was from Jim.

“Win. Me. Funnel hit the Reddings’. Everyone is heading to the hospital. I need you out at the county line. There’s a teenager missing.”

Fuck.

The second message was from his boss-uncle too. “Do not go to that hospital yet. They’re all alive. I need you.”

Win nodded. He knew his job. Didn’t make it any easier.

“I’m headed south. I’m on it, Jamie.”

“Good. I’m going to the school.”

He nodded. “Check in.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

He put his phone on speaker and started going through the rest of his voice mails, waving at Bulldog as he squealed out of the lot.

Jim. Jim. Jamie. Jamie. Jamie. Then there was Rosie. “Hey, Win. It’s Rosie. I’m heading to the hospital. Everybody got hurt. Sage says Penny is still at the ranch. Is it safe for me to go out there after, check the horses?”

Shit.
He hit call back and waited for it to ring.

The damn thing went straight to voice mail. She either had her phone off or the storm was screwing with the signals.

Speaking of storm, he hit a wall of rain and had to focus on keeping the truck on the road.
Shit
. Win remembered he was supposed to be talking to Rosie.

“Hey, hon. Hold off going out. Penny will be fine. You know Sage didn’t let her get hurt. As soon as I can, I’ll check in.”

This was becoming the shittiest day in the history of days. Win’s head started to pound, and he gritted his teeth against it. He had a job to do.

Then he would find Sage and hold on until he was sure the man was okay.

“A
S
SOON
as we can, we’ll get that knee in surgery.” The doc shook his head. “It might be tomorrow, though, unless you want to pay to go to Dallas.”

“I’m fine. How’s Daddy?”

The doctor’s face went all blank, like doctors did when things were bad. “He’s in critical condition, Son.”

“I need to see him. Now.” He pushed up, the balloon-cast-deal on his leg squeaking.

“You need to rest.” The doc frowned now, putting a hand on his chest. “You’re showing shock symptoms.”

“
Sage!
” Momma’s voice rang out, and he pushed out of the bed, almost blacking out when his leg hit the floor.

“Momma. Please. Please, Rick. Help me.”

The big old nurse—who was one of Bulldog’s friends like the EMT had been—grabbed him up and got him into the hallway.

That evil son of a bitch was there, Angel’s daddy, right in Momma’s face. “…take that property. If you don’t accept my offer, I’ll leave you homeless.”

“You leave her alone, you motherfucker.”