“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to kick your ass, though,” Wade said as Jericho faded out. “Let’s not get confused about that.”
By the next visit from the feds, he was up and walking around. Not walking quickly or anything, but upright. Standing up made defiance just a little bit easier, not that he really felt like he needed the help.
But for their second visit, the feds brought Kayla. It had been more than two weeks since the shoot-out and she was back at work, back where she belonged, but she still looked strained and miserable.
Jericho knew why she was there, and the strategy was going to work, as long as the feds didn’t push too hard. “Maybe this would go better if you asked me some specific questions,” he said. Wade sighed in disappointment, but that was okay. There were other ways to satisfy Wade, and Jericho almost felt up to some of them.
“Specific questions?” Lines asked, all innocence.
Jericho had thought he had himself under better control, but something about the way the bastard said those two simple words was a little too much. So his own smile was just as innocent as Lines’s, and if the fed didn’t see that as the warning it was, that wasn’t Jericho’s problem. “I haven’t watched a lot of TV lately, but I assume this has been a big deal. The feds totally fucking up, the locals having to step in and take over like we did. I assume that’s been a huge mess for all of you?” He gave another smile, and Kay’s lips twitched as she looked at the ceiling tiles, so Jericho knew he was on the right track. “I imagine it’d be a lot easier for you if you could find someone else to blame for this mess? Maybe someone local?” Jericho turned to Kayla. “I quit, Sheriff. I am no longer an employee of the Mosely County Sheriff’s Department.” He shifted his gaze back to the feds. “So I’ve got nothing slowing me down, and as you may have already noticed, I like to talk. I bet reporters would like to listen.”
He smiled at Wade. Yeah, that beach was still in their future. But when Jericho left Mosely this time, he wouldn’t be running away from anything.
“So, I’m happy to answer any of your questions. And if I see that things aren’t going the way I think they should—if I see Sheriff Morgan or any other resident of Mosely taking unnecessary heat for anything they did when the feds fucked off to Helena and left us on our own? I’ll answer questions from reporters too, and from anyone else who will listen.” He smiled again, and for the first time it was a tiny bit forced. “You might not believe it to see me right now, but in general, I’m pretty fucking photogenic. I bet TV would love me.” He glanced over at Wade. “Which is my good side?”
“All your sides are just fine,” Wade reassured him, and it was about more than photographs, about more than any damn thing.
Jericho winked at the man he loved and said, “Yours too,” and when Wade nodded, he knew they’d come to an understanding.
What that understanding was, he didn’t really know. He didn’t really care. The feds left soon after without asking any questions; maybe they’d already gotten the answer they needed to hear.
The next morning Nikki came to visit, and she brought the kids. They both greeted Wade warmly, Jericho with veiled suspicion. Elijah was interested in Jericho’s bandages, at least, accepting the invitation to perch on the bed and poke at various injuries. Nicolette stood beside her mother and scowled. Still, it was touching that Nikki had made the effort, driving all the way to Missoula just to see him. Touching, but strange.
“I need to talk to you,” Nikki said to Wade, and then the visit made sense. This wasn’t about family-bonding time, it was about business. Crime. “Jericho can watch the kids so you and me can talk outside.”
“Jericho can’t handle your kids when he’s at full strength,” Wade replied. “It’s been a lot of trouble for a lot of people to get him patched up; I can’t let him get torn apart again.”
Nikki snorted in disgust, but it was clear her derision was aimed at Jericho, not Wade. Still, there was a little heat left over for her business partner when she said, “You can’t disappear for a couple weeks and expect everything to keep running without you. There’s stuff I can take care of, but there’s stuff I can’t.”
“It’s okay,” Jericho told Wade. He’d been tricked before, of course, overestimated his beast-taming skills, but surely he could manage the kids this time? “For a few minutes. And don’t go far. Give me my cell before you go so I can call for backup.” He looked at Nicolette. There were different rules for different animals—was he supposed to avoid eye contact with a feral child, or insist on it? “We could watch TV,” he suggested.
Her snort was a near-replica of her mother’s. “That TV’s a piece of crap.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll choose a different hotel next time. You want to handle the remote?”
Wade was clearly doubtful, but he found Jericho’s cell phone and handed it over. He took a few steps toward the door before turning and frowning at the kids. “Hey,” he said, not loud but somehow still powerful. Both kids turned to gaze at him like they’d been hypnotized. “Jericho is not in charge. He’s hurt, and you guys shouldn’t be his problem at the moment. I’m in charge. And I’m going to be on the other side of that door. If he’s not completely happy with the way you’re behaving, he’s going to call me, I’m going to come back in, and I won’t be happy. Understood?”
Threatening small children. Jericho probably shouldn’t have seen it as an expression of love, but he probably shouldn’t do or feel most of the things he was doing and feeling, so there was no need to worry about one more transgression.
“We’ll be fine,” he told Wade.
Wade left reluctantly, Nikki eagerly. Nicolette didn’t give any more attitude before flopping dramatically down into the chair Wade had just vacated. She started flipping through TV channels while Elijah peered at Jericho intently. Maybe a little too intently.
“What’s up, buddy?” Jericho tried.
Elijah frowned back at him, but it was a puzzled expression, not an angry one. “You’re my brother, right?”
“Half brother. Yeah.”
“Is that like a real brother?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess. We’re brothers, sure. That’s just a fact.” Not necessarily a pleasant fact, but he didn’t need to point that out to a six-year-old. “But there are different ways to be brothers. You know? We can just be technical brothers. We have the same dad, so we’re brothers, but that doesn’t have to mean anything. Or we can be real brothers. Like, we can have each other’s back and try to watch out for each other. You know?”
Elijah nodded thoughtfully, and there was a nice moment of companionship as they both contemplated their relationship. Then Elijah said, “If we were real brothers, could I shoot your gun? The big one that you killed all those guys with, not your little one.”
Jesus. “The big gun isn’t mine. It belongs to the sheriff’s department. So you’ll have to grow up and be a deputy if you want to fire that gun. And I think the feds still have my little gun. So I am currently unarmed. Sorry.”
Elijah nodded sadly. “Maybe that’s good. Seems like you get shot a lot when you have guns.”
