Page 1 of Road to Absolution

CHAPTER 1

When the Crossroads Met

Goodbye, my Lilah…

The inside of my mangled truck was… stifling. The night surrounding the wreck was bleak and threatening. Disorientated from the crash, I found myself sitting in the driver’s seat. My head hanging forward with blood dripping down, while I tried peering through the smoke that was already invading what little space I had left in the cab. Heat from the growing fire in the now crumpled engine began searing by my trapped feet, but I had bigger complications.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as a shadow approached. Slowly, I looked up…

Raindrops trickling down the driver’s side window almost seemed like a forming barrier, trying to shield me from the man standing there with a gun pointed directly at my head.

The deranged-looking man grinned, rain dripping from his dark hair and beard. “Unlucky bastard, I guess you ain’t making it home.”

CHAPTER 2

Three Days earlier

Carrying an arm full of moving boxes from the garage, I proudly walked through the connecting door of our newly built home. I asked anyone listening, “Where the Hell is that delivery truck with my new mattress?”

This oasis was a light shade of sky blue that my wife had picked out. I felt so accomplished finally being able to move our belongings, which we’d been storing in the partially finished garage, into the house. Our new home had been built with special rules since it was my father-in-law who was building it. And the workers adored my wife, who was one of their bosses.

Now the day had come to live inside walls that went up with record speed due to another special delivery coming. The storkwith a bundle kind. And it was happening in six weeks.

Tucker, my best friend and brother-in-law, tried to kick me but ended up stumbling into a wall, his arms also full of boxes. Laughing, he grumbled, “Fucker. You already knocked up my sister. No more beds needed.”

Each of us set down the boxes in the living room. I goaded him, “Technically, you’re right. My spawn wasn’t even conceived in a bed. I had your sister up against a wall—”

Not shockingly, Tucker pounced and sent me crashing, stomach first, into the couch with him on top of me. “Stop running your trap about my—”

From the large kitchen that was part of the open floor plan, a voice rang out, “Boys!”

Tucker and I froze because we had already been warned, yet were still, ‘rough housing’.

“If you overgrown goofballs break my new couch, I will kill you both.”

My wife, as hormonal as she was during this pregnancy, did have a valid point. Tucker and I weren’t exactly pee-wee sized, and the huge L-shaped, dark leather couch had indeed creaked in protest after impact. So, to avoid unneeded lecturing, I immediately obeyed. “Yes, Mrs. Maverick Hutton.” To the man still laying on top of me, I whispered over my shoulder, “Is she smiling?”

Scared like I was, Tucker cautiously peeked over the back of the couch to observe his sister. “Oh yeah, Operation Avoid Ass Beating is a success.”

I’m sure a lot of men say this, but my wife is truly the best there ever was. And I loved reminding her that she was now stuck with me. Forever. I am one lucky bastard—

The clearing of a perturbed throat had me and Tucker now gazing to our immediate right. Oh shit.

My Delilah was a perfect example of a smokin’ hot country girl with a soul of pure gold. Tuck’s woman? Viola? Well, she was on the scary side. More like the epitome of a ferocious woman who oozed sex appeal. From open-toed sandals, red toenails shone as if the Devil was daring us to keep gazing upward.

Which, of course, Tucker and I both did.

Viola’s sandals had ties that wrapped up each of her smooth calves because sexy sandals are moving attire any rational person would wear. Right?

Eventually, as our eyes kept traveling upward past muscular thighs, tight jean shorts appeared. Then an exposed pierced bellybutton… until our eyes finally reached Viola’s poor excuse of a tiny half-T-shirt that read Team 69, a term that was a no-brainer and a favorite activity of V’s and Tuck’s.

As usual, I teased my brother-in-law. “I can not believe you let your hot wife out the door looking like that.” Viola and Tuck weren’t truly married yet, but they had every intention of making it legal since, in their hearts, it was a done deal.

A leather rope with a bullet for a charm, go figure, hung from the neck where a head with big blue sinister eyes perched. Those eyes glaring at her husband and my compromising position on the couch.

Still lying on top of me, Tuck sheepishly said, “I love you.”

A hip popped out, which was always a sign of trouble. Then, Viola flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder, which was another indication Tuck and I were treading a fine line. Then… “Tucker, I swear to God, if you weren’t in love with my daisy, I’d be a jealous bitch with this man-love you two got kickin’.”