The Terms of Release (28 page)

Authors: BA Tortuga

BOOK: The Terms of Release

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“I—you.” The gun swung wildly, first pointed at him, then Adam. “No. No. You have to pay.” The man wasn’t in there. He was gone, his eyes wild and vacant.

“I called Jim, Teddy. He’s going to come arrest you. Just go,” Adam said.

Sage sighed, stepped forward, and took the pistol, jerking it right out of the old man’s hands before handing it to Adam. “I’m not supposed to be in possession of one of them.”

It violated his parole.

Adam blinked, then grinned a little. “Good thing I’m an officer of the law.” Then Adam carefully took the gun and the rifle to lock them away.

Teddy had crumpled like a ball of newspaper, collapsing on the porch. Sage wondered if the man had ever been scary, or if it had been his own guilt and fear making it so.

Sage stood there for a second, watching. He didn’t have nothing to say. Not a thing.

Then he turned around and closed the front door, locked it, and went back to the kitchen and his boots. He needed to pour another cup of coffee.

“You okay, babe?” Adam was right there, hand on his shoulder.

Sage could hear the sirens coming.

“I am. You want a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t even being stubborn. He was doing all right.

“I do.” Adam sat at the kitchen table, where all the paper in the world had resided until last week.

Sage could hear jabbering outside, and he poured them both a cup before the doorbell rang. “I’m gonna let you get that, love.”

“Yeah. We can have some pie after.” Wilma had brought some by earlier. Adam left the room, and it was Sage and his boots again.

Maybe he’d just try them tomorrow. He stood up, headed for the fridge, and pulled out the pumpkin pie, then served up two pieces. Smelled good. He had a can of cream to spray on top. He heard the sheriff, but closed it out.

He hadn’t done a thing wrong, hadn’t hit no one, hadn’t hurt a soul. He didn’t have anything to be scared of. It did seem like it took a while before Adam came back and slid into a kitchen chair.

“Pie?” He slid the plate over.

“Looks amazing.” Adam glanced at him, lashes half shielding his eyes. “I didn’t press charges. Jim’s taking him in, anyway. Teddy needs help.”

“Yeah. You… you pissed at me?” He didn’t think so, but he reckoned he ought to ask.

“No.” Adam met his eyes head on, smiling huge. “I’m damned proud of you, baby.”

He sat and handed over the spray cream. “I just… I did my time. I followed the rules. I paid. Now I get you.”

“You do. Every bit of me.”

Now, that was promising.

“I can handle that, Officer. I like all the bits of you.”

“That’s a fine thing.” Adam glanced at his boots. “How are your feet, babe?”

“I’m thinking tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’ll be a cowboy again.”

“Mmm. My pocket cowboy. You can be a schlep today if you want.”

“I might at that. I organized your movies. You got a bunch I ain’t seen.” He offered Adam a smile. “Feel like having a sit on the sofa?”

“You’re gonna have us ready to move in no time, huh?” Adam bounced. “I love it. Let’s watch movies and eat a whole pie and a big bowl of popcorn.”

“Got to be ready to find our land, once you decide where you’re gonna be the law.” Then he’d let his parole officer know where they were landing. Where they were going to make their home and let the horses run.

“I have two interviews next week. Jim kinda put me on a paid leave of absence. That ought to give us time to look where I might be working.”

“I’m all over that.” He put the plates in the sink and refilled their coffee. “I’ll ride out with you, look at land.”

Sage passed Adam, and one of Adam’s warm hands cupped his ass, patted. “Sounds perfect.”

He nodded. It did.

It sounded like a plan.

For the first time in his life, he had a plan worth fighting for. Something to keep.

Sage was just grateful he’d met the good Lord’s terms of release.

A
BOUT
THE
A
UTHOR

BA T
ORTUGA
spends her days with her basset hounds, getting tattooed, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she’s not doing that, she’s writing. Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy’s Girl, she spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting, and surfing porn sites in the name of research. BA’s personal saviors include her fiancée, Julia Talbot; her best friend, Sean Michael; and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.

Having written everything from fistfighting rednecks to hardcore cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas but is madly in love with the stories the high desert mountains tell her. With books ranging from hard-hitting GLBT romance to fiery menages to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeonholed by anyone but the voices in her head.

http://www.batortuga.com

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