Lethal Balance: Sons of the Survivalist: 2 Read online

  Chevy gave an affirmative grunt.

  “Delaney, have your grandmother help you with an ice pack on your chin. It’ll take some of the soreness and swelling out.”

  She whispered, “Yes, sir.”

  As Chevy herded them out, Caz went into the police station, noted the bullpen was empty, and headed for Gabe’s office. “Gabe?”

  “He went out the back for a minute.” JJ came out of the chief’s office, and Regan stepped out from behind her.

  His little girl. Bleeding. His heart stopped.

  “Mija.” Caz skidded to a stop in front of her, his bag landing on the floor. Kneeling, he did a quick assessment. The blood on her face—fingernail scratch marks. There was dirt, but thankfully no blood, on her clothing. He ran his hands down her arms and legs, watching her face, looking for any hint of pain. Feeling for swelling.

  “I’m fine, Papá. It’s no big.”

  “You’re bleeding, and bleeding is big.” No, he shouldn’t say that. Shouldn’t make an injury into something that would leave her afraid. He tried to channel Mako’s nonchalance about injuries: Broken bone—here’s a splint. Laceration—let me show you how to stitch it up.

  No, he couldn’t. Not with his little girl.

  “Well,”—he forced a smile—“it’s big for a new father.”

  He felt her muscles relax slightly.

  JJ gave him a half-smile of support.

  He opened his bag. “Let’s get those scratches cleaned up while you two tell me what happened.” He shot JJ a look that said she’d be telling him everything. Like who the fuck had scratched his girl.

  Ten minutes later, he had his girl doctored and had heard the story.

  Bullies. She’d been picked on by bullies.

  In an even voice, JJ had presented both sides of the brawl as related by the five children involved. Either Regan started a fight, or Regan jumped in to help her friend from having her flashlight taken.

  JJ quite obviously believed Regan.

  So did Caz. A growl slid out of him, and he saw his girl stiffen.

  Her gaze dropped. “Are you…mad…at me?”

  He pulled her into his arms. She’d been hurt, and he hadn’t been there. When she relaxed and actually cuddled closer, everything inside him went soft. “Sorry, mija, I’m not angry. Not at you. I don’t like bullies.”

  “Me, neither.” Her little head rested against his shoulder—and gave a firm nod.

  “I don’t want you to fight, but sometimes you have no choice. I’m proud of you, Regan.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “You are?”

  Her head popped up, almost clipping him in the chin, and he saw JJ’s quick smile.

  “I am.”

  “Even though I got in a fight?”

  “Hell, your pa’s been in more fights than all of the rest of us combined.” Bull walked in the back door. “At least, you don’t have any knives.”

  Dios. If Bull continued, Regan would end up slicing up her classmates next time she got angry. “Bull, this is not the—”

  “Knives?” Regan stared at him. “You fight with knives?”

  “There will be no knives in school,” Gabe said firmly. Stepping inside, he nailed Bull in the shoulder. “Dumbass.”

  “Right.” Bull grinned at Regan. “No knives in school, little bit.”

  As Gabe walked over, he told Caz, “So far, the parents have decided the children have had enough repercussions from the fight. Shelby and Brayden’s parents have been warned that their children’s bullying habits won’t be tolerated. I’ve spoken to Principal Jones who’ll be watching for it at school.”

  Caz frowned. “I don’t remember having a Shelby or Brayden as patients.”

  “You probably haven’t,” Gabe said. “They live up at the resort.”

  “Niko called them resort rejects.” Regan’s little snicker made him smile.

  “Are you going to arrest me, Uncle Gabe?” She looked at him with big brown eyes and bit her lip.

  “Nope. Protecting someone from bullies isn’t against the law”—laughter lit Gabe’s eyes—“or your pa would’ve been locked up for years.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” JJ snorted. “Let me guess. Cazador would see someone getting picked on and jump in.”

  “Or an animal,” Bull interjected. “He was death on someone hurting animals. Still is, actually.”

  “Of course,” JJ said. “And his brothers would wade in beside him, right?”

  When Bull grinned, Gabe laughed and admitted, “Still do, actually.”

  “Oh, honestly.” Officer Jenner tapped the badge on her jacket. “You, Chief, are the law.”

  Her gorgeous turquoise eyes shot to Caz—and didn’t she look adorable all pissed off? “You, Doc, are a father. That means setting out limits on when to fight and when not to fight.”

  To hell with limits. Caz held his brave-as-fuck daughter out so he could look into her face. “Bullying other children will get you in trouble, mija. Saving them? That’s what we do.”

  JJ rolled her eyes, but Caz saw the way her lips curved up. The softness in her gaze when she looked at his girl.

  He wasn’t the only one who was proud of Regan.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Have a plan. Have a backup plan for when the first plan goes to shit. ~ Common Sense

  * * *

  The little white ball zipped past Regan’s paddle, and she shouted in outrage. “Da—darn!”

  On the other side of the Ping-Pong table, her opponent did a victory dance, and Regan had to laugh. Delaney was really funny. And fun, too.

  After Halloween, they’d decided they were BFFs. This Sunday, since Delaney’s mom had to work, she’d asked Regan over to her grandparents’ house. They’d played with Mr. Hudson’s dogs and helped Mrs. Hudson cook and watched Beauty and the Beast.

  Delaney had taught her how to play Ping-Pong. Although Regan hadn’t won a game, it was still really fun.

  “Kids, y’all should start picking up. Cazador should be on the way, and Giselle will be home soon.” Mrs. Hudson’s voice came from the kitchen into the back room.

  “Okay, Grams,” Delaney shouted back.

  “Is Giselle your mom’s name?” Regan asked. “It’s pretty.”

  “Uh-huh. Gramps says she’s as pretty as her name.” Delaney’s mouth turned down for a second. “Although she says Daddy dumped her for a redhead.”

  Dumped her. Like a divorce? “That sucks.”

  “Yeah. Daddy gave his secretary Mom’s place in the company an’ everything. It made Mom really mad.” Delaney heaved a sigh, then smiled at Regan. “Having you here was awesome. Everything’s more fun with another kid, you know?”

  “I know.” Kneeling, Regan put the paddles into the box on the low shelf. “At Papá’s, it’s all grownups and no kids at all. Feels weird, right? At least you have dogs here. We only have chickens…though it’s chill getting eggs.”

  Delaney shrugged. “The dogs are Gramp’s. Mom won’t let me have any pets at our house. She says we’re not home enough, but I think it’s cuz she doesn’t like dogs or cats.”

  Regan pulled in a breath of sadness. Mom hadn’t liked pets, either. “I think there might be a cat living somewhere near our place. I heard it meowing last night.”

  “A neighbor’s kitty?”

  “We don’t have any neighbors.” There weren’t any other houses on their side of the lake. But if there weren’t any houses, how did the cat get fed? It was awful cold outside. There was still snow in patches. Was the kitty going to freeze? “How do you—”

  The front door opened, and Delaney’s mom came in. Regan had seen her a couple of times when she’d picked up Delaney at school. Like her daughter, she had straight blonde hair and light skin. Her boobs were big—seemed like they’d get in the way of everything.

  Regan hoped she didn’t grow up and get boobs like that.

  “Delaney, are you ready to go?” She looked at Regan with a stiff smile. “Who’s this?” />
  Regan scrambled to her feet. “I’m Regan.”

  Delaney covered the Ping-Pong table with a bright cloth. “She’s the new girl in my class at school. I walked with her in the parade and—”

  “Delaney, what have I told you about how to introduce people?”

  “Sorry. Um…” Delaney looked down at the floor. “Mom, this is Regan. Regan, this is my mother, Giselle Washik.”

  “Does Regan have a last name?” When Giselle made a you’re-so-dumb sound, Delaney kind of shrank a little.

  Regan frowned. Delaney was great at drawing and so funny, but not good at remembering names or things. Shouldn’t her mom know that?

  “We don’t use last names a lot at school.” Regan dug her fingernails into her palms to make herself stay polite. “My last name is Ramirez. My father is Cazador Ramirez.”

  “Cazador.” The woman’s eyes sharpened. “Mom didn’t mention you were friends with Caz’s daughter. Neither did you.”

  “Um, maybe because she hasn’t been living with him very long.” Delaney shot Regan a strange look.

  “You live with him. Out…somewhere. The chief lives there, too? And Bull?” the mother asked.

  “I guess.” Regan shook her head. “It’s a bunch of houses in the middle of the woods. Uncle Gabe and Bull are there and Audrey. And JJ, too.”

  “JJ?”

  “She’s the new police officer,” Delaney said.

  Giselle’s eyes narrowed. “She’s living with her boss and Caz? Really.” Her lips closed over the word like she had a Popsicle. “Is this JJ skinny? A redhead with tangled hair?”

  “I think her hair’s pretty.” Skinny didn’t sound right, exactly, either. But JJ didn’t have big boobs like Delaney’s mom, so maybe that made her skinny? Regan took a step back. “I’ll get my coat and wait for Papá.”

  “No need to wait. I’ll take you home and save your dad the trip. Delaney, get your coat.”

  Saying no wouldn’t be polite, would it? Regan stared at the woman. Audrey said once that the men didn’t ever invite people over. This was bad.

  Giselle turned to Delaney’s grandmother. “Mom, I’m taking Regan home. Thanks for—”

  “You are? Well…that’s nice of you, dear.” Mrs. Hudson sounded surprised, then she smiled at Regan. “Where do you live?”

  Regan’s mouth dropped open. “Um. I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” Under the hard sound in Giselle’s voice, Regan felt her stomach begin to twist.

  “I…”

  “She’s the new girl, Mom.” Delaney stepped up beside Regan. “It took me a long time to know where we live, and we live in town.”

  Giselle glared.

  The dogs outside started to bark.

  “I guess it doesn’t matter,” Mrs. Hudson said lightly. “That must be your father, Regan.”

  Regan’s feet wanted to take her running out the door, but she wasn’t five. She made herself cross the room to pick up her coat and use the words that Papá had told her to say. “Thank you for letting me come over and play with Delaney, Mrs. Hudson.”

  “It was a pleasure, child.” Mrs. Hudson waved her hand toward the door. “Off you go, now.”

  Released, Regan ran out the door.

  Papá stood beside the car, and Giselle stood right in front of him. She was smiling real wide and sticking her big chest out. Like Mom had done when she had a new man around.

  Regan scowled, her body getting cold even though she’d put on her coat.

  “I was going to bring your sweet little girl home—she had so much fun playing with my baby—but she wasn’t sure where you lived.”

  “I’m glad she had a good time.” Papá smiled at Giselle, spotted Regan, and held out his hand. “Mija.”

  Giselle moved closer. “Why don’t you come in and have a cup of—”

  Regan ran over, took his hand—and squeezed his fingers hard. Twice.

  “Ah. We do need to leave now.” Nodding at Giselle, Papá walked with Regan around the car and opened the door for her. As she hurried to put her seatbelt on—so they could leave right away—he winked at her and closed the door.

  “Please tell your mother thank you for hosting the children,” he said to Delaney’s mother and got into the car. It was still running, and he backed it up.

  Regan waved at Delaney—and Papá did too—and then they were gone.

  That had been weird. Regan played with the zipper on her jacket. “Papá. Um—”

  “Just ask, mija. I don’t bite. I was more than ready to leave.”

  He wasn’t mad about her signal to get away…only he sounded kind of mad. “She—Delaney’s mom—”

  “Giselle.”

  “Yeah, her. She wanted to bring me home only I didn’t know where we lived.”

  “Thank fuck,” he muttered.

  “Huh?”

  He laughed, and it sounded like his mad was all gone. “You have such big eyes.”

  Regan frowned, and then she figured it out. “You don’t want her to know where we live?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Paying attention this time, she watched as they passed Uncle Bull’s place—the roadhouse—and turned down Main Street where Papa’s clinic was. The car turned left—there was the haunted house at the B&B—and they were on the road that went toward the lake.

  “It’s like this, mija. Mako, the man who raised your uncles and me, didn’t like people. We lived in a wilderness and only went to town a few times a year. After we grew up and left, he was too alone, so we talked him into moving to Rescue. Although he made some friends, he still didn’t trust most people. We bought up most of the land on that side of the lake to make sure no one could live near him. That’s why the Hermitage is so isolated.”

  “Oh.” The only houses around were on the other side of the lake. “But he’s not there anymore.”

  “True enough.” Papá’s brows pulled together. “Although it’s not a huge secret, most people don’t know exactly where we live. Your Uncle Gabe is a cop, Uncle Bull owns a bar, and I’m the medical person in town. None of us wants people who might want something or be angry coming to the house. Does that make sense?”

  “Uncle Bull kicks people out of the bar, an’ they get mad.” Regan considered a bit and nodded. “You don’t want them or bad guys, like dopers or murderers, or people who are sick coming to our house.”

  “Exactly. If a person is too ill to wait for the clinic to open, they need to call for an ambulance.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “Home is our private place. Safe from work and other people. ”

  Regan scrunched her mouth up as she thought. Maybe Giselle wasn’t a murderer, but she wasn’t very nice, and she acted like Mom had when she was chasing after some guy. Giselle didn’t need to come to Papá’s house, even if she was Delaney’s mother.

  “If someone asks where you live, tell them they need to call me. Or your uncles.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” It was what Bull and Papá said to Uncle Gabe sometimes. She giggled at Papá’s snort.

  “You know everyone’s numbers, sí?”

  “Yeah.” She’d already known Papá’s cell number. Her uncles made her memorize theirs and had her say back the numbers whenever. Like Uncle Gabe’d point at her. “You got hurt and the ambulance can’t get Caz on his phone. What number do you give them, Regan?” She’d shout out the number, real fast, and he’d grin and toss her a quarter. Uncle Bull did the same thing, and would high-five her and give her cookies. Audrey and JJ started doing it with their numbers—Audrey gave her comic books, and JJ had gummy bears.

  She knew everybody’s phone numbers really good now.

  Smiling, she looked out the window, seeing blue flashes of the lake through the trees, and then Papá slowed. The entrance to their little road was hard to see. He turned left onto the road. As he drove, she realized the road curved back toward the lake—like they didn’t want anyone to know there was a road on this side of the lake.

&nb
sp; Mako must’ve been kinda sneaky.

  And, hey, now she knew how to get home.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on. ~ Winston Churchill

  * * *

  Monday night, on his long couch, feet up on the coffee table, Caz wasn’t paying much attention to the movie on his big-screen TV. Regan was curled up, her head on his thigh, half-asleep. JJ was tucked against his other side, warm and soft, with his arm over her shoulders.

  He’d never been so content in his life.

  Getting JJ over here again hadn’t been easy. When he and Regan had asked JJ to join them for supper and a movie, she’d returned a firm no…even though the war in her eyes had been obvious. But he’d called in the big guns, and his daughter had rolled over JJ’s objections like a Bradley tank.

  Taking advantage of JJ’s soft heart had been a tactically sound plan and incredibly fun to watch in execution.

  Unable to resist, Caz rubbed his cheek against her curly red hair. Silky and fine.

  Her scent was sweetly woodsy with a hint of spice, a fragrance so light he wanted to get closer to breathe her in.

  Wanted to get closer to do…everything.

  Tilting her head slightly, she gave him a narrow-eyed look even as a flush pinkened her cheeks. Was that from desire or anger?

  When her nipples formed hard little peaks beneath her blue thermal shirt, he had his answer…as well as a throbbing semi-erection within his jeans.

  She didn’t have big breasts—not even close—and probably didn’t think she needed a bra, which, physically speaking, she didn’t. He’d noticed the bra disappeared when she was at home. Did she have any clue how tantalizing that faint jiggle and her small nipples were? Of all the places a man’s mind could go?

  He rather doubted it.

  Supper had been a pleasure—good food, laughter, and easy conversation. Regan had been full of school stories, and JJ was wonderful at drawing the girl out. He and JJ had added in tidbits of their days, reminding him of Mako’s decree that each boy provide a summary of the day.