Chapter 2 – Ghost
Chapter Two
Ghost
Isit on Magnum’s couch staring at the ceiling fan – drunk. I haven’t seen the kids in way too long and it’s killing me. I stopped keeping track when I realized that I might be making my condition worse by counting the days.
Wyatt and Hunter told me that my ex-wife Tylee might have taken the kids up to Deb’s, which made sense since she’s their grandma, but once they got up there it turns out she didn’t take the kids there at all, and we don’t have a fucking clue where she went with the three of them.
Feels like somebody tied my stomach and intestines in several knots and the only thing that can work them loose is Jack Daniels.
I’ve gone through more whiskey than I ought to in the past week, but what’s the point in staying awake or staying alive without the kids?
Without a family? I know things are over between me and Tylee.
I know it in my bones the way I knew she was pregnant before the test told us.
We had a whole life together. We grew up together.
But all of that is in the dust, and right now I can’t see a way out.
Not without the kids. Not without a proper divorce.
How long have I even been here?
When was the last time I ate something?
Couldn’t tell you the answers to either of those questions, to be honest.
The light in the room changes. It’s dark when I hear voices again.
“He’s been on the couch all day, Magnum. Again. We have to do something about it.”
“He’s working through things,” Magnum murmurs, as if his booming voice could somehow become inaudible with such minimal effort.
“He’s not working through things. He’s getting drunk and he smells bad.”
I know I smell bad, but does Damara have to be so harsh about it?
“He might be a little depressed,” Magnum concedes. A little? I have half a mind to blow my head off. But I can’t do that knowing I would never see my kids again.
Damara approaches my spot on the couch.
“Isaac. You need to get up. Ryder and Hunter are coming over to talk to you, and my husband told them that you had never been better,” she says in a surprisingly strict voice.
She has pink hair. I thought she would be fun.
She’s just as strict as Joslin, and that woman wields a Bible like a weapon – she beat me off her couch with it once and pretended that she accidentally dropped it.
I guess you can’t judge a Black woman by her hair color… Damara keeps glaring at me as I stare at the messy pink strands, wondering when I turned into such a kid that a chick with pink hair is telling me to get my shit together. I’m too old for this… And too…
Damara won’t like my excuses, but I try anyway. “I’m too drunk.”
“Boy if you don’t get your ass up and pull yourself together, I will make Magnum wash you myself.”
“Babe?” Magnum gently inquires from a safe distance. Coward.
“Fine,” I groan. “I’ll get up.”
I head to the shower reluctantly and get clean.
By the time I come back out into Damara and Magnum’s living room, we have company.
At least I don’t look like garbage. Hunter and Ryder used to look more similar when they were kids, but it’s still eerie having those identical pairs of green eyes staring at me.
“Just like Damara said, I’m fine.”
“She said you were on the verge of suicide,” Ryder says. “And that you needed some purpose in life or she would start whipping you.”
“You do look like shit,” Hunter says.
“I showered.”
“You haven’t trimmed your beard and your hair is… a mess.”
“What the fuck are you all here for? If I’ve overstayed my welcome, I’ll get on my bike and fuck right off.”
Considering what happened the last time I saw Tylee, she’ll shoot me if I get anywhere near the house.
“We’re going out tonight with Wyatt to track Tylee down.
She has the kids somewhere and we’re going to find them,” Hunter says.
In this context, his words might as well have come from Wyatt himself.
From the first time I wanted his sister, he warned me that it would end badly.
Three kids later and I convinced myself that I had won.
It didn’t matter how badly shit got between us because we had that family binding us together.
My heart aches with their absence. Tylee, I don’t miss as much, but I need my children close to me.
I hate that she would use them against me, and I hate that none of them seem to understand.
They have their kids – and wives that would never consider taking them away.
Tylee’s different. She grew up in our world and that made her cunning.
“I haven’t seen Kyler, Max, or Aimee in three weeks.
They’re my children. I should be out there to pick them up myself,” I grunt, reaching for an open can of beer that might be Magnum’s.
He doesn’t stop me from taking a sip. Damara alternates between looking at me with concern and her husband with absolute love.
Love that I’ll never know from any woman for as long as I live.
“Wyatt thinks that might be more dangerous for the kids. He’s pissed off at his sister and the only chance we have at getting through to her is Oske,” Hunter continues.
“So she wants money…”
“Yes, she wants money,” Ryder says. “She always does. There’s something you can do to keep busy if you want.”
“Have either of you seen the kids? Has anyone? For all I know Tylee put a pillow over their goddamn faces.”
I wish I didn’t have to go there, but I can’t stand this.
“Wyatt spoke to them,” Hunter says, his tone coated with understanding that wasn’t enough for me. “Tylee’s lost it. Okay? We get it. But she gets pissed off at the idea of you coming close to her, and we’re worried about them.”
“I love those kids,” Ryder says. “Even if they sneeze a lot.”
“I can’t sit around doing nothing while other men save my children.”
“Do you want the kids to have a father to come home to?” Hunter asks. “Because that’s what we’re talking about. Tylee has access to our network. She’s cunning. She knows how all of us work. If she doesn’t want you getting near those kids…”
Yeah, he’s probably thinking of the same fucked up pillow scenario that popped into my head where she kills them for revenge.
I wouldn’t have thought Tylee capable of that, but I never thought of her being capable of drugging another woman so that Magnum could get her pregnant.
The implications there disturb me very deeply and Tylee seems to think my mistakes make it all okay.
I won’t deny I’ve made mistakes, but I still love the fuck out of my kids and family.
“So what’s the plan? I sit on my ass?”
“No,” Hunter says, looking to Ryder for reassurance. His twin brother nods. “Wyatt wants to send you out to Boston. It’s the best way to keep you safe.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind? My kids aren’t anywhere near Boston.”
“Exactly,” Ryder says. “It will be much easier to negotiate with Tylee, and a lot safer too.”
“This is bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit,” Hunter says. “There are plenty of incentives. Ethan has a new business venture funding a local militia out there and we’re going to send some gifts over to get him started. Deacon’s talking to Zeb, but we need you with him on the convoy because he’s too green.”
I can feel my chest tightening as I realize this isn’t a request. These are orders and I took a blood oath to follow Wyatt’s orders and to trust him. But can I really do that? Tylee’s his blood, and I’m not. It doesn’t matter that he’s been close to my brother Hunter for his entire life.
“He’s been in the army just like Gideon. He’s not green.”
Hunter detects my resistance.
“Those kids are my niece and nephews. Please, Isaac. You go to Boston and I’ll bring the kids to you unharmed within a month.”
“I can’t wait that long.”
“It’s a generous estimate,” Ryder says. “We could get lucky.”
He’s so full of shit. No man who spent all those years in prison for a crime he didn’t even commit could truly believe in luck. It would be like believing in a God that hates your guts. Gamblers like the Shaws have a different problem.
“I’ll go. But if the kids aren’t back in a month, I’ll find Tylee myself and take what’s mine.”
Hunter and Ryder nod at me, knowingly. Everybody worries that I’m the one who’s going to pull the trigger and kill Tylee.
I think that’s half the reason they want me far away from her, more so than their concern for the kids.
But I’m not in a position to argue since I haven’t heard so much as a squawk from Tylee since the fight.
She ran me off with the double-barrel she inherited from her dad after he passed like I was a rabid coyote and not the man she chose to have a life with.
“Once the money flows in and you get the kids back, you’ll feel better. We got you, brother.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Whatever you say.”
Boston. I guess that’s where I’m headed to next. Without Kyler, Max, or Aimee.