Chapter 14

Entering the hospital hallway, Bethany mustered her strength and put a smile on her face, all the while gearing up for what was ahead. She walked down the hallway to where her mother sat on a bench. Looking up, her mom raced over, and the two women fell into each other's arms.

"He's alive," her mom said, "but that's all I can tell you. He's in surgery right now."

"That was fast."

Mom nodded. "They had to get control of the bleeding." She held her daughter tight, and the two just stood there together.

"He'll be okay," Bethany replied. "I believe that."

Her mother tilted her head back to see her face and smiled. "I do too." Yet still so heartbroken, her eyes swollen, her mom added, "It's definitely time for a change."

"Oh, I agree, and it's a good time to be thinking about it too."

The two women sat down on the bench, as they discussed options. Old Joe would need some help after this.

"We've never lived together, though it's always been a bone of contention between us."

"That's just become a nonissue." Bethany chuckled. "Let's just say it's a really good time to take advantage of it."

Her mom smiled. "We've been spending most nights together anyway," she muttered, "but he's just stubborn. He never wanted to damage my reputation—any more than it already is."

At that, Bethany shook her head. "Maybe we should find a place to live where he would be comfortable and where an interracial relationship would not raise eyebrows. This place has always been pretty tough for that."

"I know. I just couldn't leave because you were here."

"What? I didn't leave because you were here," Bethany shared.

Her mom stared at her, then finally smiled. "That sounds like a good idea. So, maybe we all need to leave together," she suggested hopefully. "But what about your business?"

"I know. I'll have to close up the clinic, and I'll start fresh again," she muttered, "and that isn't something I'm looking forward to, but I don't really see that there's much of a future here."

"I think you're right. The town itself is struggling."

"Is that the word for it?" Bethany asked, with a small smile. "I think it's way more than struggling, but it is what it is."

They were still talking about options and locations, when the doctor came over to see them. Mom bounced to her feet, fear all over her face, as her question came out as a whisper, "How is he, Doctor?"

"He came through the surgery just fine. We got the bullets out. He should make a full recovery, but it'll take some time," he pointed out. "He won't be allowed to work for a while, and he'll have to stay in the hospital for several days, if not more," he muttered, "depending on how it goes. Whether and how he handles it or fights it is key. We can't have him ripping out any stitches, and that abdomen wound is touch-and-go as it is. I would say at least a week here at a minimum, so we can sedate him and keep him as immobile as possible."

Her mother just nodded, but tears were in her eyes, as she clasped the doctor's hand and whispered, "Thank you, for everything."

He smiled at her and nodded. "Everybody needs to be loved, especially when healing. So you can stay here and wait a little bit, if you want. We'll bring him out of recovery soon, and, when we get him settled into his room, you can spend some time with him there."

"Can I stay with him?" she asked anxiously. "I mean, overnight and every day."

He hesitated and then shrugged. "Why not," he murmured. "I think it will probably do you both some good."

Bethany smiled at the doctor, as he walked away, because the doctor was right. It did everybody good when you were surrounded by loved ones. She looked over at her mom. "Why don't I get you over to your house, and you can pick up some clothes for your stay, at least for overnight?"

Her mom just shook her head. "I don't want to leave him."

"Okay, I'll just catch a cab to get my car, then go to your place and grab you an overnight bag. How's that?"

She looked at her gratefully. "That would be awesome."

"Okay, that's the plan."

"Are you sure you don't want to wait for Conall?" her mom asked, looking over at her.

"I think he'll probably meet me at my house anyway," she muttered. "He's gone to talk to Michael. Then we were planning on spending the night at my place."

Her mother grinned. "Is it serious?"

At that, Bethany flushed. "I don't even know what the hell it is," she muttered. "Aside from it being just a safety viewpoint amid all this trouble, I hardly even know the man."

"Yes, you do," Mom replied, with a surety in her voice that Bethany had always respected. "You know exactly what it is. You just weren't expecting it today."

"I wasn't expecting it at all," Bethany declared, glancing at her mom. "That's how it was for you and Dad though, wasn't it?"

"It absolutely was," Mom stated, with a bright smile. "The best years of my life. These past few years, they've been tough, just because of the bullies and this town's viewpoint of our relationship," she noted, "but I've got no complaints about Joe. I didn't expect to care about someone again as much as I do. Joe is,… well, he's pretty special in his own way."

"I've known that for quite some time, Mom," Bethany confirmed. "There's no reason the two of you can't live long and happy lives together," she muttered. "We just need to get through this part."

With that said, Bethany headed outside and hailed a cab, texting Conall as she headed home. She just needed to get her wheels and then she could go over to her mother's house, pack her a bag, and get it back to the hospital. As long as her mother was happy and content at Joe's side, that's where she should stay.

In the meantime, they had to shut down Joe's Diner, including posting signs saying it was closed, possibly forever. That fact didn't cause her any pain either.

She had a longstanding love/hate relationship with the diner, and, for that matter, she had a love/hate relationship with the town. They hadn't been very accepting of Joe, even though he'd been here for a very long time, but it had to weigh on a man getting those racist looks and dark comments. It was definitely time to get them to a place where they could live a happier and peaceful life.

There had been no response from Conall, when the cab dropped her off at her apartment building. She headed inside, raced up the stairs to her second-floor apartment. She quickly changed her clothes because she hadn't had a chance since dealing with Joe. Then she got out one of her carry-on bags. As she went to grab her purse, she realized it had been moved.

She froze, and then she heard the voice behind her. "Did you really think you'd get off so easily?"

She turned around to see Jake standing there, not with the same gun but another gun, bigger, heavier, much more awkward looking and twice as powerful. She shook her head at him. "I don't have time for this right now," she snapped. "My mom is at the hospital. Joe's been shot, probably by one of your daddy's guns," she snapped, "and right now I just can't deal with you."

"What do you mean he's been shot?" Jake asked, completely sidelined by her question.

"The other punk in town, Page, is still here, and you probably sold him the gun too."

Jake frowned and then shrugged. "I did sell someone a gun recently. He wanted to pull off a couple heists to grab some money, so he can get out of town."

"Yeah, that would be him, and now he's shot my mother's partner, so the café is effectively closed. You and your gang can forget about getting any more freebies from there."

He stiffened at that. "I don't like their damn coffee anyway. It tastes like sludge."

"Yeah, and yet you went there every day," she noted, with a headshake. She pointed at the weapon. "So, now you've got another one of Daddy's weapons, and he'll be held responsible for this, after leaving shit available for you to grab."

"You don't know anything about it," he snapped. "Dear old Dad seems to be having a change of heart, and that is something I blame you for."

She snorted. "Your dad should have had a change of heart a long time ago. You're a piece of shit, and you're going to jail, and you know it." She knew she was treading on troubled waters, but she didn't care. She'd reached her limit today and just couldn't be bullied anymore. Even though she might take a bullet for it, she really didn't have time for his nonsense.

She waved him off. "I've got to pack a bag for my mom and get it to the hospital. Then I have to check up on Michael. Plus I also have clinic hours tomorrow." She looked around for her purse. Seeing it on the couch, she snagged it, ignoring him. "So, I don't know what the hell you think you're doing here," she snapped, "but I don't have time for it."

Just as she went to open the door, a bullet hit the wall right beside her. She closed her eyes, then turned to glare at him. "You don't want to do this with me, especially not now."

"Oh, but I do want to do this." Jake smiled. "Because, if nothing else, I know it'll hurt that cripple you hang around with. I mean,… what a pair. Your mom's with that big black asshole, and here you are, with a cripple. Like, what the hell's up with that?"

She faced him. "Both of them are twice the man you'll ever be." She glared at him. "Why else do you need that gun?"

He stared at her. "Why the hell aren't you afraid?"

"Because I'm tired of being afraid," she declared. "I'm tired of letting insecure people like you walk all over me. I'm tired of listening to my poor mother talk about how you keep chasing their customers away with your bullying ways, stealing from them by not paying for what you consume, and being a constant threat just lurking around in her life. You don't understand what it's like to live with worry and fear all the time, and you just don't give a damn." She shook her head. "Guys like you should have just been put away when you were born, so the world didn't have to deal with you. Or maybe just exterminated."

He stared at her in shock. "You can't talk to me like that," he replied in a blustering tone.

"I just did," she snapped, "so what will you do about it?"

He hesitated, as if he was completely unsure of what to do.

She nodded. "You're confused because you don't understand the basic functioning of normal human relationships."

"Shut—"

"Why? Is the truth not sitting right with you? You think it's all fun and games and that you just get to be this all-powerful bully? That's not how life works," she stated, with a shake of her head. "You really ought to be pitied. I just don't have any more pity left for you."

"I don't need your pity," he shouted, the gun immediately coming back up again.

"Yeah, that's good because nobody'll pity you when you get to trial. Nobody'll pity you when you're in court and when they listen to all the tales from everybody in town about how you bullied them and how you cheated them and how you stole from them and how you threatened them, day after day after day."

"No one will say anything."

"That remains to be seen. No pity left for a piece of shit like you," she repeated and headed out. "I don't know what the hell you think you'll pull right now, so you just need to shoot me dead and officially become a murderer, meaning your life will be 100 percent over. Even if the dysfunctional local justice system doesn't put you away, you can bet that, one way or another,… Conall will."

He paled at that thought, and she nodded. In a surprise move, she pulled back her purse and ran right at him. Almost immediately his hands went up over his head, as he tried to protect himself. "Stop it. Stop it! You're a bloody crazy woman."

"I'm not a crazy woman," she argued through gritted teeth, striking him over the head with her purse again and again. "I'm a woman who is fed up. I've reached the end of my rope, and trust me. I'm not going down easy."

And, with that, she kept hitting him, prepared to tear him apart with her bare hands.

He took one final look at that expression on her face and bolted out the door.

Now that Jake was gone, she stood in her living room and started to laugh, a panicked, hysterical laughter that only stopped when the tears started to pour. She slowly sagged in place, only to remember that she had a mother to take care of, and Conall was still potentially coming.

Drying her eyes and telling herself that she needed a long holiday when this shit was over, she got into her car. Glad to have her own vehicle back, she then phoned Greg and told him what happened. "I'm now on my way to my mother's place to pack her a bag for the hospital," she added, "but Jake will probably run home to his daddy right now."

"You beat him up with your purse?" Greg asked, with a note of amusement very obvious, even over the phone.

"Yeah, and you don't need to tell me how stupid it was. I'm sure Conall will rip into me something good, when he finds out."

"And so he should," Greg agreed, with a chuckle. "On the other hand,… I really hope you have some of that on tape."

She froze, and then she snorted. "I never stop the cameras, so it would have been recording. So, yeah, it's got to be there on my system."

"Is your apartment locked?" he asked briskly.

"Sure, not that locks do very much good, it seems," she muttered. "As it is, I've got nothing to worry about saving and nothing to protect in the first place. Why?"

"Because I want to retrieve it."

"It's accessible from my phone, so when I get to my mom's place, I'll send it to you, okay?"

"Good job. By the way, have you talked to Conall?"

She pulled up in front of her mother's place. Bethany got out, still speaking to Greg. "No, I haven't yet, but he went over to Michael's to warn him about the nephew."

"Right. I've texted him a couple times, but I haven't heard back."

She quickly flipped through her phone, brought up her security cameras, and started to laugh when she saw the most recent footage. "Oh my God, no wonder he ran. I look like a crazy woman."

"You were, I'm sure. Somebody who's hit the end of her rope. Don't feel bad about it. Just send me the video, and I'll get him picked up."

"Do you really think they'll charge him for it?"

"He broke into your apartment again, brandishing another weapon, threatening you with said weapon, all after being released on bail, with a promise not to have anything to do with you," he stated, his tone deepening with disgust. "So, yeah, this time, he's not getting out."

"And you might want to see if the gun Page used to shoot Joe was bought off of Jake. He mentioned a gun sale to me. Anyway I just emailed the tape to you," she said, then stopped. "What was that about Conall?"

"I haven't heard from him, after texting him a couple times."

"Oh God," she muttered, "I haven't heard back from him either. You need to get over there right away."

He stopped and asked, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously," she muttered. "The only way he wouldn't have contacted one of us was if that asshole Page is there."

"I'm already on my way," Greg confirmed. "You get to the hospital and look after your mom. We've got this." And, with that, he hung up.

She thought about it and shook her head. Conall had been there for her every step of the way. She wouldn't let him down now.

She raced to her mom's small apartment, packed a bag for just tonight. "I can always come back tomorrow and get more stuff for her, but I need to get over to Michael's place," she murmured.

She sped all the way to the hospital, dropped off the bag with her mom—sitting beside Joe, who appeared unconscious, but Bethany assumed he was still sedated. She leaned over, kissed her mother, and whispered, "I've got to go." She returned to her vehicle and raced outside, heading toward Michael's place, grateful the hospital was on the outskirts of the town over making it a slightly shorter drive.

When she pulled up, she was hoping Greg would already be here, but she didn't see his vehicle. She had no idea what to expect or what she was supposed to do. Yet she stepped up to the front door and walked in without any notice. Conall sat on the couch, pain evident on his face, and the same girl who Bethany used to babysit sat beside him, tears in her eyes, as she stared up at her boyfriend.

"We can't just kill everybody," she cried out.

"We have to," Page stated brutally, "because they're all going to rat us out."

Michael and Greg were here too, all seated before gun-toting Page.

"Wow," Bethany announced, as she stood here, her hands on her hips. "What is this? A bloody tea party and you forgot to invite me?" She looked over at Mel. "You didn't turn out so well." she snapped, still pissed from her outing with Jake.

Mel burst into tears. Getting up, she ran over and wrapped her arms around Bethany, sobbing. Caught off guard and unsure of what else to do, Bethany held the immature young woman as she cried.

"I don't know what's going on, Bethany. We were never supposed to kill this many."

"But you were okay to kill some?" she asked, pulling back and looking at her. "You're okay to pick and choose who to kill?"

At that, Page snorted. "I know, right? I just told her that. You can't just pick and choose. When we're in this, we're in it."

"But I didn't mean for it to go this far," Mel cried out.

"I guess you should have taken a second to think about it." Bethany stared at her, realizing she had never really understood who this young woman really was. "How many people have you shot so far? Never mind. I don't want to hear it. What I do want to know is that this is finished."

"Of course it's done," Mel wailed, as she turned to look at Page. "Right? It's over, and we're not doing this anymore."

He laughed at her. "Sorry, sweetheart. In for a penny, in for a pound."

"And yet you know your uncle doesn't have any money, since you already took it all," Bethany stated.

"He had more coming, but somebody went and stopped his pension from being dropped into his account."

Bethany looked at him. "Are you telling me that the little bit of pension he gets every month is enough to make a difference in your life? I don't think so. It's not enough for Michael now, and taking that little bit of money won't get you anywhere."

"Oh, it'll get me somewhere," he argued, "but the account was changed."

"Did you think he wouldn't try and keep the only income source that he has?" she asked, staring at him in surprise. "Are you really that stupid?"

"Don't call me stupid," Page yelled.

"What will your mom think about all this?" Michael asked. Bacchus sat at his side, his head resting on Michael's lap but his gaze intent on Page. And Bacchus's muscles pumped, as if ready for anything.

Bethany looked over at Michael. "I'm so sorry, Michael, that you had to endure betrayal from a blood relative."

Michael nodded. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have taken him in. You never really know who people are until it blows up in your face."

"I do know, and I'm sorry you had to find out," she whispered. "It happened to me as well, with this one." She still held Mel close, with an arm around her, even as Bethany tried to figure out what was going on, but she knew this was a dangerous flash point. She looked over at Conall and Greg, then asked, "Are you two okay?"

"Of course they're okay," Page replied in irritation. "I mean, no point in killing anybody I need, is there?"

"I don't know," Bethany countered. "Seems to me that you and Jake are a great fit."

"No way, he's an idiot," Page replied, with a dismissive glance.

"And yet that's where you got the gun, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "Yes. So what if we got the gun from him? That doesn't make a difference, does it?"

"Just another nail in Jake's coffin and yours, now that it's been used in a violent crime spree. That won't go well for him or you."

Page snorted. "That's what's wrong with the world. People have all these rules, but they don't apply to me—or to him." He waved the gun around, as if to make his point.

Bethany laughed. "You might have another think about that, while sitting in prison," she added, with a smirk. "Jake's not having a very good day as it is, so you might want to avoid a run-in with him."

Page frowned at her. "I don't give a shit about that punk. I just want to get the hell out of here."

"Oh, I get it. I hear you," she said, with a nod. "Absolutely. I mean it's all about you, right?"

"Yeah, it is all about me," he declared, waving the gun in her face. "And you?… You just need to shut the fuck up. I'm tired of this chattering." He turned to his uncle and bellowed, "I'll start killing people, unless you tell me where the money is."

Bacchus rose, as the gun turned in his direction. "The money or the dog is first."

"You have themoney, idiot," Conall stated, taking a step closer to the dog.

Page stared at him in frustration. "You go to his laptop. You're the one who set this all up, aren't you?"

Conall nodded, then walked over to the laptop.

"Now you transfer that money into my account, right now," Page ordered, "or I'll start popping people."

Conall looked over at Michael, and he nodded, then said, "I guess I can get by on food stamps for another month."

"Yeah, and what will you do when he comes back in a month because he needs more money?" Conall asked.

"No way. I'll take all the accounts with me," Page announced. "I'm not letting you change all that shit again."

His uncle just stared at him. "You lazy piece of shit. All you have to do is get a job."

"I'm not getting a job, am I?" He glared at him. "And I don't intend to ever. You can work and even when you can't do anything, they still pay you, so I might as well just keep getting the money from you."

"You know that can't continue, right?" Conall asked. "Life isn't quite so simple. You know that, right?"

"I'm not stupid."

Conall made a sound in the back of his throat. "You're sure acting like it."

At that, when the gun whipped back and came down hard against his head, he tilted to the side and let the force of the jolt take him backward, but he also had a hand on Page's gun arm, bringing it down as Conall fell. Bacchus leapt forward and latched onto Page's gunhand and dragged him to the ground. The gun fired into the floor, as Mel screamed in terror, but Conall already had him pinned in place, as Greg picked up the gun and held it on him.

"So now what?" Greg yelled at Page, over all the ruckus. Bacchus's deep gut-wrenching howls in the back of his throat were never at full volume, as he was too busy grinding his teeth on Page's arm. Meanwhile, screams were coming from Page…

Conall immediately calmed Bacchus down, finally getting him to release Page and to stand guard. Michael wheeled over and placed a hand on Bacchus, who immediately sat back, more relaxed now that he'd done his part.

"You'll have quite a few years to sit in jail and to think about your actions." Greg shook his head. "What a waste."

"I'm going to kill that fucking dog," Page yelled in obvious pain. "No way in hell I'll be in jail. And now, with this dog attack, I won't have to. They will let me off, after that piece of shit hurt me."

"Nope, they won't. He was defending his owner against an armed attacker." Conall eyed him in amusement for a moment, then asked, "So what's your plan B?"

Looking over at Mel, Page said, "You know what to do."

"I can't," she whimpered.

"We agreed," he yelled. "Do it."

She started to quiver and shake. "No, I can't."

"What are you supposed to do?" Bethany asked her, keeping a firm grip on the girl.

Melanie slowly pulled a very tiny handgun from her pocket. "I'm supposed to shoot him and then myself."

"That's not happening," Bethany snapped, and, tugging it out of Mel's hand, she looked over at Page. "And just like that,… plan B is off the table."

He started swearing and fighting, kicking and twisting hard against Conall's grip, but Conall wasn't having any of it. With Michael barely managing to keep Bacchus from jumping back into the fray, Conall held down Page, and very quickly Greg was there with ties to secure the struggling man.

He could fight all he wanted now, but he was just thumping his head and limbs against the hard floor. Finally he stopped screaming and just laid there for a time. In a tone so cold with promise, he muttered, "I'll get you."

"Keep talking," Conall urged. "I'll make sure the judge hears every word." He had his phone recording and held it out for Page to see the steady red light.

Page screamed again, loud and obnoxiously, in a fit of pure temper. As soon as he ran dry again, Conall smiled and added, "It will make for a really good hearing, when we get to the court case."

"Yeah, it sure will," Greg agreed, with a nod.

"How many years do you think he'll get?" Conall asked Greg.

"Fifteen to life at least, and so will she," Greg replied, turning a hard gaze over at Mel.

She started bawling immediately. "I didn't do anything," she cried out.

"Yes, you did," Bethany said.

"But I just stole little bit of money from you," she admitted, tears streaming down her face. "Surely that fifty bucks isn't a big deal."

"It was more than fifty bucks, and you know it. Still, it wasn't as big a deal as compared to shooting people. For every shot Page fired, you will pay the same price," Bethany stated, staring at her. "For Page shooting Old Joe, you'll be charged as an accessory, with my mom as a witness."

"No, but—"

"It's all fun and games, until you get caught," Bethany stated, "and now you have to face the consequences, just like everybody else in this town has."

Mel dropped to the floor, sobbing hysterically.

Bethany looked over at Conall. "Should we check her for other weapons?"

He rolled his eyes, then stepped up and did a quick frisk of the screaming girl on the floor, who was even now fighting him.

"Leave me alone! Don't touch me! Get away from me!" she screamed at him, "I hate you. I hate you all!"

"Not half as much as you'll hate your life coming up," Greg shared, as he stared at her. "You have no idea."

She went back to sobbing on the floor, completely incoherent.

Conall walked over and wrapped Bethany in his arms. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Did Greg tell you what happened to me earlier?"

"No. Is it Joe? Don't tell me—"

Greg interrupted him. "She's had a hell of any evening already." Looking over at the two of them, Greg gave her a wry grin. "Instead of telling you about it, I'll show you." He pulled up the video that she'd sent him and let it play for everybody.

"Oh my God," Bethany muttered, staring at it for the second time this evening, "That's just too much. I look like an idiot."

Michael smiled at her in delight. "Oh my gosh, I love it. You look like that crazy lady from the viral video." He looked over and asked, in between bouts of laughter, "Any chance I can get a copy, for those days when I'm down and think life isn't worth living?" Then he broke off into peals of laughter.

"Okay, very funny, Michael."

"Sure, it is. It's gold. Something like this is worth everything."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly I just want to go away for a very long holiday."

"Yeah?" Conall asked, looking over at her. "Any destination in mind?"

Her gaze twinkled as she asked, "Have you got any destination in mind?"

He nodded. "I'm thinking an isolated cabin up in the Colorado Rockies or maybe a beach a very long way from here."

"Either one would work perfectly for me," she said, "but I have to ensure Mom and Joe are doing okay first."

"I think they'll be just fine," Conall suggested. "Now the larger question is where will you end up at the end of the day?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "but I do know that a major rethink needs to happen."

He shook his head. "You've already done the thinking. All you have to do is settle on a new location, and it may not be all that hard."

"Maybe not," she agreed, "but it's got to be someplace where Joe is welcome."

He nodded. "Of course. We won't have it any other way."

She looked at him suspiciously. "I suppose you'll say New Mexico?"

He chuckled. "It could be New Mexico, but it could be somewhere else too. I'm totally okay to move. Yet I do own the family homestead down there, and I would like to keep it."

She smiled. "Maybe we should have another talk about that."

Sirens began to fill the air. As he went to answer the door, she looked at the others. "As long as we can find a place that makes us all happy, I'm game. I do need to go to the clinic tomorrow and for the next few days, but I think I'll be shutting it down pretty soon after that."

"Sounds good to me," Conall muttered. "Let's get this wrapped up, then go crash and just focus on getting through the next few days."

And that's what they did.