Against Me (Cedar Tree Book 3) (12 page)

"You're lucky they have an official shooting range here in Macon where we can do some decent target practice. They even have a few courses set up we could try at some point, although to be honest, I wouldn't even know where to start on how to run those properly when you need two hands to manoeuvre the wheelchair."

I smile, and rest my head back against the seat letting the changes of the last few days play out in my head, and I've gotta say, I feel more alive than I have in a long time. Changes have come at me fast and furious, but truth be told, life had been nauseatingly boring and predictable since I landed in a wheelchair. I had started to think that's the way it was going to be. Apparently not. So far with Caleb it's been anything but boring. He doesn't seem to be affected too much by the wheelchair, and actually makes me forget it's there half the time as well. I sure as hell don’t need a wheelchair in bed, and Caleb doesn't need help of any kind in that department. Fuck me, but that man has skills. When I woke up this morning, my body was still tingling and throbbing from the workout he put it through last night.

For someone usually on the cautious side, I sure am letting my hair down. It's fast, but it doesn't really feel like it. Maybe 'cause we've known each other for a few years, or maybe because he's been explicitly clear on where he stands and what he wants, which really minimizes risk for me. Not like I'm the one putting my heart on the line, or am I?

"What are you thinking so hard on?" Caleb gaze hits me before keeping an eye on the road ahead once more.

I snicker, "Oh, just everything. About a year's worth of excitement in two days and some life-altering events thrown in for good measure."

"Life-altering. That good, huh?" he says with a smile. That earns him a smack in the shoulder.

"Smartass."

"You like my ass."

"God help me, I do."

"Don't need any help there, sweets. It's all yours if you'll have it."

The smile on Caleb's face emphasizes the crinkles by his eyes. I love those crinkles. I’ve seen more of them in the last few days than I have in all the time I've known him. Instead of responding, I take my time studying his profile as he continues to watch the road, smile still plastered on his face. He really is a beautiful man; normally quite stern looking, but when he smiles, his eyes light up his entire face. An ageless face―one I could easily stare at for years to come. Holy crud, what am I thinking?

"Looking for warts?"

"What... Sorry?"

"Are you looking for warts? Trying to find flaws? I can feel your eyes scanning me, like you're trying to decide if I'm worth keeping around."

Turning into a parking lot of what I assume to be the shooting range, he pulls into a parking spot, turns off the engine and twists around in his seat so he's facing me. The question lingers in his eyes, laced with what might be some uncertainty. I quickly unclip my belt and turn to him, putting both my hands on his face.

"Not. Was simply contemplating how gorgeous you are, especially when you seem happy."

His eyes darken, his hand grab the back of my head and pulls me into a heart-stopping kiss. When his lips finally pull back and I can catch my breath, he whispers, "I don't just seem happy, I
am
happy, and I can't remember the last time I've felt this way."

I can't hold his intense eyes any longer and plant my face in his chest, struggling to swallow down the huge lump stuck in my throat. There is nothing to say to that, so I just let myself feel.

"Oh my God! Did you see that? Nailed that sucker right in the gonads."

Katie has been tirelessly shooting clip after clip for the past half hour, getting more hyped up by the minute.

"Yes, I see, and it would surely maim a man for life, but wouldn't necessarily stop him from shooting back at you. Come on, little one. You need to adjust your trajectory now that you're shooting from a sitting position. Different ballgame."

"Bahahaha... You're funny. I thought you wanted me to stay away from the genital area. I'll have to remember that."

The little tease. I lean down and grumble in her ear, "Just remember I can exercise great control, sweets."

From the way she squirms in her seat, I can tell she knows exactly what I'm referring to.

Just as I'm about to give her some pointers, my phone rings. I step outside so I can take the call, indicating to Katie where I'm going.

"Gus, what's up?"

"Change of plans. There were two meth-related deaths last night in Albuquerque and the Feds are cranking up the heat. They want this pipeline closed and closed fast. This was a deal gone bad, and one of the casualties was a member of the Klesh; it wasn’t your brother," he adds quickly when he hears my sharp hiss, "but this might be a good time to get some decent intel. Tongues will be wagging after losing one of their own."

"Alright," I hesitate, looking through the glass in the door to where Katie is emptying yet another clip into the target's crotch. "When do you want me to go?"

"As soon as you can get on the road. Neil is on his way here already; I got hold of him before you. He'll stick around Katie. You sorted your shit with her?"

"Not that it's any of your goddamn business, but we're good for now, so yes." I answer reluctantly. What's between Katie and I is just that; between us.

"Don't need to know anything but that, jackass. Keep your panties on. Oh, and I'm fucking thrilled for you. Now get your ass in gear." Gus is chuckling when he hangs up. Dick.

"I'll be fine, really."

Katie is doing her best to convince me she's not disappointed, but her smile is strained and I'm not thrilled myself to lose out on another night with her in my arms.

"Sooner I can get this job done, the sooner I'll get back. Would you make sure Clint gets the keys to the padlock at the barn so he can get going on Monday? I'll hurry and program all the pertinent numbers in your phone when we get home, and I’d also wanted to talk to you about transportation. I have a small SUV lined up, a rental, with a swivel seat and a manual gearbox, so you can start getting yourself around. The chair will slide back once you're seated so you can easily pull in your folded wheelchair beside you in the passenger space. It's been specially adapted, but had to be ordered from Freewheel mobility and isn't going to be here until Monday. You can get Neil or Emma to take you to Cortez to pick it up. I'll leave the number for you."

When Katie doesn't respond, I check to find big tears rolling down her face. I reach over and wipe at them with the back of my hand.

"Hey, what's with the tears?"

"You got me a car," she sobs, tears coming in earnest now.

"
Yázhí
, I want you to be able to get around. I know Neil is going to be there to keep an eye on things, but you need your independence."

"See? How am I gonna keep myself from falling for you when you do shit like this, Caleb? It's impossible."

"First of all, I hate that we’re needing to have this conversation on the road, and I can't have you in my lap where you should be when you're crying and we're talking about stuff like this. Second, why the fuck do you want to keep from falling for me? I'm already out for the count, Katie. Balls to the wall, remember?"

Frustrated out of my mind, I pull over on the side of the road, just outside of Cedar Tree and make quick work of getting her in my lap anyway.

"There. Now I feel slightly better. Talk to me," I urge her with one arm anchoring her to me and a hand in her short hair, pressing her head in my neck where she is getting my shirt soaked.

"I... I just don't know that I'm worth all this," she mutters.

"Worth to whom? To me? When all I could call you was my friend, you were invaluable. Now that you've let me become more, you’re worth everything and anything. This is what friends do, what family does; what lovers do. I get as much of a kick out of giving you some of the tools you need to grab hold of your freedom as you probably do."

"Not used to kindness," her mumbled voice comes from somewhere in my neck.

"I get that, and I'm sorry you never had that, but you better work on a thicker skin if kindness is all it takes to pierce it, 'cause I have a feeling there's a lot more coming when you stick around Cedar Tree."

She sits up and wipes her face with her sleeves while I grab a box of tissues from the glove compartment and hand them to her.

"I'm done now."

"That's good, little one," I rumble, sweeping a few stray hair off her face.

"What color?"

"Excuse me?"

"The car you got me; what color is it?"

I throw my head back and laugh out loud. "You're such a girl."

"Am not."

"Oh, you are most definitely a girl," I chuckle as I lift her back in her seat, before getting back on the road, happy with the return of the light-hearted banter.

"He got you a car?"

Emma is helping me put away the groceries we just picked up at the tiny local grocery store. It doesn't have a big selection, for that you have to head into Cortez, but it’s good for topping up the basic needs. Exactly what Emma decided was needed when she found me moping around a couple of hours after Caleb took off. We actually made quite a pair; between my wheels and her walker, we struggled to get ourselves in and out of her truck, but managed. With some support and a good handhold, I do okay moving myself around, and Emma had a bit of a struggle with the chair after that, but seeing as she doesn't know the meaning of giving up, managed to wrangle the chair in the back. Of course, guileless and without reservation as Emma is, she managed to get me to talk about these past few days with Caleb. For someone who isn't used to girl-talk, I was sure as hell learning fast, and the last person I'd have expected opening up to was Emma.

I just finished telling her about our trip to the shooting range, which I'm sure Gus won't be happy about since Emma now wants to go shoot at 'stuff' too.

"I can apparently pick it up in Cortez on Monday at this medical supply store. I have the number, I just have to call in the morning to set a time 'cause they want to give me some driving instructions. No foot pedals, so I need to know where everything is."

Emma is almost jumping with excitement, her curls bouncing.

"The man got you a freakin' car!"

Making me laugh, "I know. He wants me to have my independence and
'Grab my Freedom'
." I use my fingers to make air-quotes for emphasis.

"I know! Makes me happy he gets to do this for you." At the confused look on my face she adds, "that man's been sitting on his hands for far too long where you're concerned."

Before I get a chance to react, the front door opens.

"Honey, I'm home!"

With a big smile on his face, Neil James comes striding into the kitchen, sweeping first Emma off her feet in a big hug before lifting me clear out of my seat.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I
t's been exactly a week since Caleb left, and despite some pretty intense phone calls I miss him. Not that I've been bored. Hell no. Over the weekend, Neil filled me in on some of the information he has found on my adoptive mother. Apparently she hasn't had her license renewed in the past fifteen years, but was picked up in Denver eight years ago for soliciting. Eewww. I shudder to think how desperate you'd have to be to stand on a street corner when you qualify as a senior in some states. Oh, and double yuck to the type of clientele she might have drawn in. I don't have very good memories of her but I wouldn't wish that life on anyone. Anyway, Neil says he can't find a trace after that but he has a buddy with the Denver PD who will put some feelers out on the street, for whatever good that might do.

We also spent some time with Gus going over a few current trace cases, and he had Neil set up shop in the conference room. I think Neil must've emptied out the Grand Junction office, because every surface in that room is now covered with one  computer or another, large screen, police-scanner or other electronic device. How he managed to pack all that shit up in his truck on such short notice is a mystery. Gus seems to be set on the idea of me doing some work again, because he had Neil hand over some of the computer tracking to me. I'm surprised I'm actually enjoying it.

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