Page 57 of Fury
There had been a lot happening, and not all of it good. In fact, this trip might be the best thing in a couple of months, since Mason and Bones came home from this town that Fury was willingly driving towards now.
Myron had worked his magic on the video the Feds had of the coffeehouse, inside and out, and in the end, the only thing that said there’d been more than Morgan and Shooter on the premises was the eye-witness account from the terrified teenaged employee.Well, and Bones’ blood. He smirked.
The man was pissed he had a hole put in him, and in his unique way of communicating had said as much. “When four men of varying skill are battling as we were in a closed environment, it is no wonder when three of the four have the bad luck to step in front of a bullet. What I do not appreciate is that it was Shooter, already dead on his feet, who had the audacity to be aiming at me at the moment his hand clutched the gun like a lover’s breast. The only thing worse would be to have been injured by a ricochet from Mason’s weapon.”
Engaged as he’d been with things within the club, and then with the burgeoning relationship with Bethy, Fury had somehow missed the memo about what Mason had found in Florida. Not just a sister, which was trippy enough when you thought about it, but his and Bethy’s mother. The story as Mason told it was convoluted. Shooter had always been unstable, his moods written off as edginess in a world where men made up their own rules. Morgan had recognized it for what it was, and when Shooter made threats against his own mother, Crystal, Morgan had taken steps to make her safe. He’d faked her death, displaying a mutilated body that somewhat resembled her in order to convince Shooter. It worked, and he’d moved both Crystal and Justine’s mother, Lori, to Florida.
According to Justine, something had happened about ten years ago to break both Lori and Crystal’s hold on reality. She had suspected Morgan because he visited the women regularly. Mason didn’t disagree with her. That lined up with the troubles Morgan’s original club was having with the cops, and both women would have had a wealth of knowledge about a variety of his crimes. Myron was researching what compounds would have been available, pairing the information with knowledge about the other things that Morgan might have had going at the same time. Mason had said he wasn’t holding out much hope, but it was easy to see he had some.
Mason and Willa had brought their three kids down a couple of weeks ago to meet Crystal, and it had gone well. So well he’d agreed it was time for Bethy to make a visit. Bethy had immediately petitioned to bring Mikey, and that brought Fury back full circle to the car full of sleeping people. He smiled, reaching out a hand and placing his palm on Bethy’s thigh. Just the feel of her leg under his hand was enough to have his cock fattening, and he shifted in the seat, fingers tightening.Jesus.
He’d stopped at a rest area, rolling up the windows and locking the doors, leaving his sleeping charges in the vehicle. It was winter, but the chill wouldn’t creep in too quickly, not with the sun out like it was. Flipping his shades back into place, he started down the walk to the car, seeing Bethy standing beside it, arms over her head as she stretched. She saw him and waved with one hand, looking adorably ridiculous, and he swept her into his arms, holding tightly as he pressed his mouth to hers. Pulling back, he watched as she blinked up at him, the movement slow and sleepy. “Hey, baby. You need to pee?”
She nodded and covered her mouth with one hand, yawning wide. “Yeah. Should we wake up Michael?” He didn’t release his hold, just reached out with one hand and rapped on the window next to Mikey’s head, grinning as the boy sat bolt upright, looking confused. A moment later he was on the receiving end of a Mason specialty, this being one of the darkest scowls he’d seen in a while. “Guessing that’s a yes,” Bethy said with a giggle.
“Yeah, baby. Go, take care of business, let’s get back on the road.” He kissed her nose.
“Where are we?” Mikey shoved his phone in Bethy’s face and her eyes crossed, then focused as she tried to look at what he was showing her. “Map shows us in a swamp.”
Fury reached out and gripped Mikey’s shoulder, shaking him back and forth. “Swamps are good for a lotta things.” Bethy moved to Fury’s side, wrapping one arm around his waist. “Like hiding a teenaged boy’s body if he doesn’t get a move on and go pee.”
Mikey rolled his eyes and grabbed Bethy’s hand. “Come on, Mom. Before he leaves us behind.”
This had been happening more often than not, but every time Mikey called her that seemed to hit Bethy hard. This was no exception and her eyes closed for a moment, a soft smile on her face. “Okay, okay. I’m right behind you.” Tipping her chin up she stared at Fury. “Back in a minute.”
“I’ll be here.”
The rest of the drive was unremarkable, except for Mikey’s choice in music. Even Chase’s influence hadn’t shifted the boy from his love of all things country music. If it wasn’t boot stompin’ with a twang, he had no interest. Fury found himself hiding a smile from Bethy as she lectured the boy in a way that sounded practiced, and he was certain he was listening to a conversation they’d had many times before.This, he thought,this is what it means to be with someone. Not the hot-as-hell fucking they did every night, although that was part of it. Lives together were built on this warm sense of comfort felt when someone you loved wanted to share themselves with you.
Fury changed lanes, seeing the hotel sign ahead and both Bethy and Mikey clammed up, their nervousness coming to the fore again. Fury rested his hand on Bethy’s knee, squeezed once to get her attention and told her, “She’s excited to meet you.”
Grinning at him, eyes bright, she whispered, “I have a sister.”
“That—” He turned into the parking lot. “—you do.” Myron had made the arrangements, booking the hotel and reserving a private dining room for the meeting. The plan was for Fury to check them in while Bethy and Michael went to meet Mason and Justine. He’d give them a few minutes of privacy, then join them, thinking it would be easier on Justine that way. “I’ll get the bags, y’all go on inside.” He thumbed the button to open the trunk and leaned close, cupping his hand around the back of her neck. Pulling her in for a kiss, he told her, “You’re going to do great. You have a sister.”
She smiled and repeated his words back to him. “That I do.”
Several hours later they’d moved their party poolside. The adults watched Michael as he did his suave best to impress a couple of girls about his age, swimming side to side across the pool underwater, and treading water beside the girls, his mouth never ceasing its movement.
“Did you know where they were keeping him?”
The sound of the kids playing mixed with the manmade waterfall at one end of the pool, working to obscure their words from casual eavesdroppers. Fury had used Myron’s tool to sweep the area before they all sat down, ensuring there were no electronic devices in play, just in case.
Even with the noise and assurances of privacy, Justine still looked over her shoulder before answering Mason’s question, the long-time habit kicking in. Him, in this case at least, meant Christopher Camp. The heartbreaking story she’d told over dinner had curdled Fury’s stomach, and the look Mason and Bethy shared told the tale. They were both pleased for once that Morgan’s paternity claim meant they weren’t any kin to old man Mason.
“Irving told Daddy”—Mason grimaced, making it clear hearing about the two men who had ruled his life for so long wasn’t his favorite thing. Justine continued—“that as long as Daddy left you two alone, my son would be unharmed. He gave Daddy back Luke, my nephew, and then said it would be the last thing Daddy would ever get from him.” She shook her head.
“I didn’t know where he was, and Daddy exhausted all his contacts unsuccessfully. Chris was just…gone.” Her neck twisted and she glanced at the pool, eyes on Mikey. “After I joined the DEA, I kept quietly searching. I never found anything. As far as anyone knew, he had disappeared off the face of the earth, gone.”
“How’d they get their hands on him?” Mason’s question was quiet, respectful, but filled with a hard edge of anger. Fury eyed him, gauging his reaction. He suspected if old man Mason wasn’t already dead, his breaths would be numbered on the smaller side of the ledger.
Justine sniffed, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand. “I was stupid. So stupid.” She shook her head. “Jimmy wasn’t the sticking around kind of guy. I should have known, but when we started things we were both so young. Young, stupid kids. Things got bad in California. John’s wife left him. She took their daughter.”
Mason supplied the name with a nod. “Eddie. Moved her girl away from the club, trying to give her a normal life.”
“Yeah. Made things difficult for me and Mom, because John was always a little crazy, but after that happened, he really fell off the edge of the earth.” Mason nodded again, and Fury remembered some of the stories he’d heard about those times. Death and destruction following John around, him earning his club name of Shooter by killing a friend of Mason’s. Blood and pain were the watchwords for those days. “Mom knew Crystal, liked her.” Justine shrugged. “The club was a different kind of life. I didn’t realize how different until after I got to college and found out that not everyone had a second mother figure, both sharing a bed with your father.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Bethy flinch and put that reaction aside, deciding to follow up on it later.
“Crystal had talked about Kentucky, talked about the two of you. When Jimmy and I decided to leave with Chris, we didn’t have anywhere else to go. I didn’t expect to find trouble waiting.” Justine shivered, picking up her cardboard container of coffee and cupping her hands around it. “Crystal had been gone for a couple of years, and Mom was…she saw where things were going. Every night, it was the same thing. I’d sit nursing Chris, and she’d come in and talk, telling me I needed to go before Daddy had a need for me. Everyone is always just a tool for him, he's—” She interrupted herself and looked at Mason, bleakness bleeding from her eyes. “He’s dead, right? Really, really dead?”
