Walker Revenge (The Walker Family Series Book 5) (13 page)

Russell shrugged. “If I behave and mind my
nurse I’ll heal faster. Hopefully, they’ll let me walk soon and
take off all these bandages.”

“Good. You look uncomfortable.”

“I am. She eases the pain though,” he said,
and he could feel the lightness of his grin.

“I hope it works out for you. Seems weird
that you’d have a kid if you got together.”

Russell nodded. “He loves her. She’s his
world and vice versa.”

“And you think there’s room for you in that
world?”

“I’d like to think so.”

Dane pulled his keys from his pocket. “Get
some sleep. I’m heading back to town to pick up Gia from the store.
They had some Christmas shopping event between all the stores and
some vendors in the event center.”

“Sounds as if the women are taking over the
town.”

“It’s an awesome sight.” Dane gave him a
wave and left him alone in the room.

He laid back on the pillows and tucked his
right arm under his head.

Dane’s words played in his head. Lucas would
be his son if things did go in the direction they’d originally
planned. He looked at his tattoo, which now bore no resemblance to
the C that had once graced it. He supposed if things worked out
he’d get a new one. Maybe he could add an L too.

The whole thought made him laugh to himself.
Maybe it was just the Florence Nightingale effect. Falling in love
with his nurse could just be her taking care of him.

Then again, maybe it was years of anger
finally subsiding.

Either way, he’d like to feel it out a
little more.

He looked at the nightstand next to him
where his phone lay. He picked it up and scrolled through the
contacts until he found one that said Officer Smythe.

He pushed the button. “Hey, Phillip. Listen,
I think you need to talk to Chelsea. She seems to have forgotten to
fill you in on a few things,” he said, and then he realized that
perhaps he didn’t trust her as much as he thought he did. His words
and tone were accusatory.

Just as he thought, Phillip said he’d head
right out.

Well, this would determine how things went
from there.

Chapter
Fourteen

Glenda had bathed Lucas and put him to bed.
Everett had pushed the bed to the wall and made sure Lucas wouldn’t
fall out.

Chelsea readied herself for bed, slipping
into an old tank top and shorts, then tied her hair in a ponytail
atop her head.

She heard Glenda quietly call her name from
beyond the door, and then tap softly.

Chelsea walked to the door and pulled it
open.

“I’m sorry to bother you. Officer Smythe is
here and wants to talk to you. I can sit with Lucas.”

She could feel the heat crawl up her skin.
He’d called him after she left, she realized. They should have done
that together.

Ensuring that a smile came to her lips, she
nodded. “I’ll be right down. Let me put on a robe.”

Russell and Phillip Smythe were in the
living room when she walked in. Russell had managed to get a shirt
on, whether he did that alone or not, she wasn’t sure. Phillip was
in a faded pair of jeans and a T-shirt. His coat was draped over
the edge of the sofa. This couldn’t even wait until he was on duty,
she observed.

“It’s past ten o’clock,” she noted the time
aloud wondering if they were aware, because a mother of a young son
certainly was.

Phillip stood from his seat. “I’m sorry to
come so late. But when Russ called, I thought it was urgent enough
to make the drive.”

She shifted a glance to Russell, and it
apparently relayed her feelings as he shifted in his chair.

“Chels, he needs to know what you know.”

Phillip moved to her and touched her arm. “I
need all the details, so I know what’s going on. We have two cases
here, and they’re tying together, and you’re in the middle of them.
You can’t hold anything back from me. I don’t want to have to
arrest you.”

She sucked in a hard breath. “You’d arrest
me?”

“I have reason to suspect that you ran
Russell off the road,” he said as he removed his hand from her
arm.

Chelsea turned to Russell. “Is that what you
told him you thought? You think I did this? Even when I told you I
didn’t?”

Russell took a breath to speak, but Phillip
moved between them. “No, that’s not what he said. In fact, all he
told me was you had some information that I might like to
know.”

She bit down on her lip. “Fine.”

Phillip stepped back and motioned for her to
sit down. “Tell me about the truck.”

She adjusted the robe around her and sat
down on the sofa. “The truck had been parked in my garage for the
past two years. It was stolen the day before Russell was hit.”

“That’s burglary. You didn’t think to
mention it?” Phillip’s tone stayed even, but it stabbed at her all
the same.

“Listen, I would have dumped the truck if I
could. I didn’t want it around. I hated it.”

“So someone has been on your property
numerous times?”

“I guess so.”

She saw the color change of expression on
Phillip's face. Her answers were only feeding into his anger with
her.

“You guess so. Chels, this is serious. Do
you realize that with this information now I can arrest you on
suspicion?” Phillip’s voice rose.

She gasped in response and Russell leaned
in. “That’s not necessary, is it? I mean we both know she didn’t do
it.”

“Do we?” Phillip stood. “Who else knew that
truck was in your garage?”

She shrugged. “Anyone Dominic might have
told it was there.”

“He’s been questioned about this already.
About his connection to the truck and the accident. He said he left
the truck for his brother.”

“Who is in jail,” she offered.

“Confirmed.”

Russell shook his head. “Sweet little family
you married into,” he quipped, which forced her to her feet.

“What about you? What did you do to cause
someone to want to run your ass off the road? Were you just sitting
quietly in the bar minding your own business? No. Russell Walker
was in an argument with someone.”

“You’re going to stand over me and pick a
fight?”

“That’s what you do best. Not me.”

“No, you just walk away from them.”

Anger pulsed through her, and she had all
intentions of walking away from this one too until Phillip took her
by the shoulders.

“Sit down, and both of you cool it.”

Chelsea did as she was told, but not without
reservation.

Phillip sat down and clasped his hands,
resting his arms on his knees. “One thing we know. These items are
related, we just need to find out why and how.” He turned to
Chelsea. “What else didn’t you tell me?”

She shook her head. “That was all. I just
wanted that truck gone, and it was. I’m sorry.”

“You haven’t had any connection to his
family at all?”

“Phillip, he kidnapped my son and his mother
was in on it. Do you think I’d stay in touch?”

Phillip shook his head. “I have to ask,
Chels.”

Russell tapped his fingers on the arm of his
chair. “You don’t think it could just be random? I mean, it would
be weird, but maybe?”

“Maybe,” Phillip said. “I’m going back out
tomorrow to talk to the bartender on duty the night they ran you
down. She’s been gone the past week.”

“Lila.” He said, and Chelsea shot him a
heated look.

“You know her name?” she asked, through
gritted teeth.

“Yep,” he said with a knowing nod. “Thought
I was going to get lucky that night, so I remembered it. Who knew,
huh?” he snapped out his answer so that it would do maximum
damage.

Phillip stood. “You two might just be one
another’s demise,” he said shaking his head. “Tomorrow is Christmas
Eve. Why don’t you find some spirit? I’ll be in touch,” he informed
them as he walked out of the room and they heard the door close
behind him.

Chelsea wrapped her arms around herself.
“I’ll help you back into bed,” she offered without looking at
him.

“I wish I could tell you I’d do it my damn
self. I hate having to rely on you.”

“I’m beginning not to like it too much
either,” she quipped.

“You liked it just fine an hour ago when you
were pressing your body against mine.”

That caused her to turn. “You lured me
in.”

“You wanted me to.”

“So you did that for me?”

“Ye…” he stopped, and she watched as he
processed his answer. The color in his cheeks began to fade, and he
looked up at her with sad eyes. “No. I didn’t do that for you,” he
said. His voice drifted off. “I’ve missed you so much it hurt. For
a moment I had you in my arms, and everything seemed right
again.”

Chelsea shifted her weight from foot to
foot, still hugging herself as if it were her only comfort. “It did
seem right.”

“Why do we do this?”

“We want to hurt each other.”

“Well, I don’t like to be hurt.”

She knew that meant a lot of things, but
nothing would stop her from taking it personally. “I don’t like it
either.”

“I’ll take your help getting into bed, but
will you spend a few moments with me?” he asked as he rolled his
chair toward her.

“Your mom is sitting with Lucas.”

“Just a few minutes,” he said reaching his
hand out to her.

“Okay.”

As they walked back to his room, and she
pushed him through the doorway, Russell thought back to when they
were together, planning a life. Things were volatile then, too.
Arguments were often and furious. The makeup sex was good, though.
The very thought brought a smile to his face.

“What are you grinning about?” she asked as
she stopped pushing his chair and locked the wheels.

He looked up and noticed she was looking at
him in the dresser mirror. “Honestly, I was thinking of how many
fights we’ve had like this. But we used to fix it with makeup
sex.”

Chelsea’s cheeks colored pink, and she shook
her head. “Those are better memories.”

She fixed his bed, pulling down the sheets
and fluffing up the pillows.

As she did so, he watched her. He knew that
body, hidden under the robe. He was painfully aware that they
wouldn’t be having makeup sex after their fight. In fact, they
hadn’t made very good strides into, well, whatever it was they were
heading into. But he wondered just how far he could take it before
she’d smack him.

When Chelsea bent over, he reached out his
hand and laid it on her rear, giving it a gentle squeeze. If he
were right, she’d fly up at him, and it would be over.

Instead, she gently turned her head and
narrowed her eyes on him. “Seriously?”

“Can’t blame a guy from trying, right?”

She turned slowly and faced him. Pulling at
the tie on the robe, she let it fall open and to the floor.

Russell let out a chuckle when he saw the
tank top and shorts underneath. “Wasn’t what I was expecting,” he
joked.

“Yeah, as if I’d answer the call of the
police naked under my robe.”

“Every man has a fantasy.”

She stepped toward him. “You’re sure you
want to go down this road?” she asked, inching in and leaning her
hands on the arms of his chair. “This is one grand mess we’ve
gotten ourselves into. It’s Christmas. I’m in hiding with my son.
You’re in a wheelchair. We haven’t spoken in three years. It’s
obvious we only pick fights with each other.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to cop a feel.”
He winked, and she stepped back, but he caught her wrist. “Yes, I’m
sure I want to go down this road. I can’t think of a nicer
Christmas present.”

Her eyes went soft, and she moved into him
now, balancing against his chair, and kissed him deeply. Yeah,
that’s what he’d been looking for, he thought, as he let his hand
slide up under the back of her shirt and she moaned against
him.

She let her hand glide up his neck and into
his hair, and he thought he might just have the strength to lift
himself from that chair to hold her.

With a ragged breath, he eased back. “This
is frustrating.”

“It won’t be long.”

“Do you think we can stay civil until we
can…do this?” He nodded his head toward his bed.

“It’s not about sex, right?”

Of course, she’d ask that. And really, why
shouldn’t she? “No. Let’s just say, if my big fat mouth got me this
opportunity again, I’m going to try to make the most of it…and not
let my big fat mouth lose it for me.”

She tucked a strand of blonde hair, which
had fallen from the knot atop her head, behind her ear. Her lips
were pink and swollen now, so when she smiled it made everything
inside him come alive.

“I’ve missed you, Russ. From the moment I
made my very bad decision—I’ve missed you. I’d give anything for
another chance.”

He reached for her hand and gave it a
squeeze. “Okay, then. Let’s make the best of this.”

Chapter
Fifteen

It was Karen that greeted Russell the next
morning and wasn’t that a disappointment. Again, she checked him
out, washed him up, and this time, she did some physical therapy
which hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.

“You’re strong. I think that most of the
estimates they have of you getting back on your feet are
inaccurate. You’ll be up in no time.”

“Good. I’m done with this.”

“Ah, where’s your Christmas spirit?” she
asked, just as his Christmas toddled in the door.

He looked up to see Lucas walking in with a
sports bottle of water and smiling as Chelsea followed.

“Dwink,” Lucas said as he handed the bottle
to Russell.

“Thanks, pal.” He took the bottle and then
ran his hand over Lucas’s soft hair. He wasn’t sure what had driven
him to do it, but the sheer pleasure of it sent a jolt right
through him.

“Miss Quinn, why don’t you get your notes on
your patient and let’s look at them.”