The gun in Roddy's hand pressed to Dean's head, kept the man silent. Wyatt squatted beside Dean. A hundred questions came to mind but none of the answers were important. The only urge he had was to blow Dean's head off for harming his son, for hurting Joey.
Dean glared at him, wisely keeping his mouth shut. Wyatt stared down at the man who'd not only made his kids' lives harder than they already were having a drug addict as a mother, but had pushed his son to desperately put his life at risk and run in fear. Wyatt held his own guilt for getting Claudia pregnant. He had no excuses. Not his young age, his irresponsible habits, or his bad choices.
But he'd turned his life around. He'd stepped up and done whatever was needed to make sure his kids knew they were loved.
"That last second before you're dead, know that my name is on the bullet. You will die. For Claudia. For Travis. For Jess. For Joey." He straightened, standing over Dean.
Dean's wild gaze kept coming back to him. Yeah, he better remember who brought wrath down on him. He needed to pay for the scars put on his children.
It wasn't enough, but he'd honor his agreement with Tarkio Motorcycle Club and let them have the final punishment. Either way, Dean Miller would die tonight.
Paco stepped closer. "We'll be leaving as soon as the car comes to pick us up."
He nodded, fisting his hands. "I need to take Joey to the E.R. and have her shoulder checked."
"We have someone associated with Tarkio who can make a house-call and help you out there." Paco stared down at Dean. "He's a qualified doctor. I've used him myself."
"Appreciate it."
"You should go back to your family. Priest will get ahold of you tomorrow." Paco turned and lowered his voice. "Lose some of that anger, man. Don't carry it with you."
All the fear, rage, worry came out in a violent burst. He drove his steel-toed boot into the side of Dean's body. The whoosh of Dean's breath, escaping his mouth, filled the night air. He pounded his fists into Dean's face. The bone beneath his knuckles made a satisfying crunch.
He swung over and over. Vengeance replaced the anger.
Before he'd purged the anger from his body, Paco wrapped his arms around Wyatt's chest from behind, trapping his arms to his sides. He heaved for breath, seeing red. Satisfaction at the blood coating Dean's face washed over him.
"That's enough. I can't have you killing him. Tarkio will do the rest." Paco kept hold of Wyatt. "Shake it off, concentrate on your family now and know Tarkio will see this through."
He spit on the man who tried to take his family away from him. "I'm done."
Paco let him go. He turned away, wiping his hands on his jeans, and headed toward the apartment.
Priest and six others passed him. He lifted his chin and never stopped walking. It was over.
Chapter 37Joey
JANE FONDA STRETCHED on the television. Joey widened her stance, put her arms above her head, and leaned to the left, mimicking the moves. Already ten minutes into the aerobics tape and she was sweating and out of breath.
Straightening, she ran in place, pumping her arms, trying to get her knees up higher. Jane's voice counted the steps without sucking air into her lungs and not a hair out of place. Joey hated her perfection.
As soon as the cool-down exercises started, she walked over and ejected the VCR out of the machine and turned off the TV.
Slow clapping filled the apartment. Joey whirled around and gasped at the sight of Wyatt leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her.
"You dork. How long have you been here?" She picked up the towel on the arm of the couch and wiped her face off.
"Long enough to see that you're not favoring your left shoulder any longer, and your butt looks great in those nylon shorts." Wyatt walked over to her, gave her a kiss, and reached around her to squeeze that body part he'd been caught admiring.
She groaned. "I thought you were checking on your crew and then going to the clubhouse."
"I did." He sat down on the couch and put his boots up on the coffee table. "The garage convert is a week away from being finished, and Tarkio is Tarkio. Now it's time for me to enjoy you."
"Mm." She stepped over to him and sat on his lap. "The kids will be back in an hour."
"We have Jess's last volleyball game of the season tonight."
"At home or away?"
"Home." He slid his hand between her legs and slipped his fingers under her thigh.
"That's good. Travis has a test tomorrow, and he'll need the extra time after the game to study." She inhaled deeply and shared a smile with Wyatt.
Travis had rebounded from being caught by his former stepfather over the last six weeks. The easy-going boy she'd always imagined lurked below the surface came out and entertained the family every night. He'd had a growing interest in dirt bike riding, often going over to Frank's house and riding with his oldest son. Wyatt had even mentioned the idea of buying Travis a motorcycle for Christmas.
Jess, while she'd only heard the basics about what had happened the night Dean caught her and Joey, tended to watch over her brother more and worry about her dad when he was late coming home for dinner. Her compassion for others added more stress to her life, but Joey had learned that lots of talking and giving Wyatt's daughter time to get things off her chest helped keep her happy and more relaxed.
"I mailed a letter to my mom this morning. I hope she gets it before her move." She couldn't believe her mom was in love.
The last letter she'd received was full of information about Dr. Harry Kramer, who was also going to Italy with her. Or her mom was following him. It
