Read Walker Revenge (The Walker Family Series Book 5) Online

Authors: Bernadette Marie

Tags: #family saga, #bestselling author, #bernadette marie, #walker family series, #georgia, #5 prince publishing, #second chance romance

Walker Revenge (The Walker Family Series Book 5) (9 page)

“I think I need a few minutes to collect
myself. I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

Glenda rubbed her arm. “Take all the time
you need. Our home and our land is yours. He should explore and
enjoy every part of it.”

Chelsea watched Glenda follow her family
back into the house. She took a deep breath and gave Lucas a kiss
on the forehead. “Would you like to see the chickens?”

“Chick-in,” he replied as he wiggled out of
her arms and down her body. He started off, stopped and held his
hand out for her, and waited for her to catch up. “Chick-in,
Mommy.”

She wondered if there would ever be a time
when she didn’t nearly tear up when he called her
Mommy
. How
could it tug at her heart still? But it did.

 

Russell watched Chelsea and Lucas from the
back door. Lucas had a lot of energy, and she had a genuine smile
to match. Russell had been prepared for it to hurt when he saw them
together, but even he could admit, he’d never made her as happy as
she was just looking at the chickens with her son.

“He loves his mommy,” his mother said as she
set a plate of food on the table next to him.

“I didn’t know what to expect when I saw
him—or her here for that matter.”

“She needs us, and you need her,” his mother
sat down next to him. “Be open minded.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said with a hint of
sarcasm. Then he relaxed in his chair. “I’ll admit, I’m not sure
what my mood will be now that I’m home. Sitting in this damn chair
only pisses me off.”

“It’s part of your recovery. Be strong of
mind and you’ll recover physically,” she offered as she took a
piece of cheese from the plate she’d brought him and popped it into
her mouth.

“I shouldn’t be in this chair at all,” he
said, turning to face her. “I wasn’t drunk that night. I don’t
remember losing control of my truck. I don’t remember anyone
running me off the road either.”

“But Phillip said you were, and they found
the truck that did it.”

He nodded. “He told me. Her ex-husband’s
truck.”

“And it was parked outside of her house,”
his mother whispered as if it were a secret.

Russell rubbed the ache starting between his
eyes. It didn’t sit right with him. Who was at the bar that night
in another blue truck? And he hadn’t known anyone at the bar
either.

“You’re due for your pain meds.” She stood
from the table and hurried off to find the bag they’d brought home
as Chelsea and Lucas came through the back door. She had hold of
both his hands and walked behind him. He was covered in mud and
grinning from ear to ear.

Russell’s mother walked back to the table
with the pills she’d gone after, and a glass of water. Shifting a
glance at Chelsea she tucked in a smile. “Oh, my goodness. What
happened here?”

“Lucas seems to think it’s a fun game to
chase the chickens,” she said still holding tightly to his hands.
“I need to throw him in a tub, but I don’t want to get mud all over
the house.”

“I’ll get him some clean clothes, and you
take him into Russell’s room. There’s a tub in there.”

Russell swallowed the pills his mother had
given him and nearly choked on them. “My room doesn’t have a
bathroom.”

“Honey, we moved you down to the main level.
It’ll be a bit before you can do the stairs. Chelsea and Lucas are
staying in your room.”

The panicked look on Chelsea’s face meant
that the reaction to his mother’s words had left a trail of
irritation on his.

“We’ll hurry,” Chelsea said as she hurried
past them to the bedroom down the hall from the kitchen.

His mother sat back down next to him. The
pain was building, but behind his eyes and not in his leg or arm.
His mother put her hand on his arm. “You should lie down.”

“Seems as though my room is being occupied,”
he quipped through gritted teeth.

“I’ll go help her.”

“Don’t bother. No need to hurry her,” he
said on a breath. “I’m going to just roll myself in there and lay
down.”

“I’ll help you then.”

“I don’t need help,” he snapped and realized
he’d done so loudly, as everyone turned and grew quiet.

That was when the excuses started, and his
family began to dismiss themselves one by one. Soon it was just him
and his mother, alone in the kitchen. The headache had compounded,
and a niggling thought was itching in his brain.

He hadn’t meant to be so sour about
everything. Getting home was supposed to have made everything
better.

His mother had escorted everyone out the
door and then run upstairs after the clothes she’d promised Chelsea
she’d find.

It was then Russell noticed that even his
father had somehow exited with the crowd. He was sitting there
absolutely alone.

He could use this against them when he was
pissed.

Backing his chair away from the table, he
managed to maneuver it through the kitchen without crashing his
extended leg into anything. Navigating the turn to the hall was a
little trickier, especially since he only, really, had one good
arm.

He managed himself into the guestroom on the
main level. Sounds of water, a small voice singing, and Chelsea’s
voice soothing came from the bathroom.

For a moment he let himself enjoy the
sounds. Once he’d wanted a house full of them. Chances were that
would never happen. He’d grown too crabby and undesirable. There
were times he couldn’t even stand himself.

Russell rolled the wheelchair to the side of
the bed. Pulling back the bedding, he exposed the fancy linens his
mother would save for guests. If he had to recover there, he might
as well enjoy the best his mother had to offer.

Putting the brakes on the chair, Russell
carefully bent to move the foot plates. Every muscle in his body
still ached. Even these tedious tasks hurt. But he’d be damned if
it was going to hold him back.

Once he removed the obstacles, he pushed up
with his good arm, to stand on his good leg. Even that was wobbly,
but the bed was only a few inches away. He could do this.

Pushing harder, he got up on one leg, but
the brakes on the chair weren’t as secure as he’d thought.

Just as Chelsea walked out of the bathroom
with the toddler in her arms wrapped in a towel, Russell felt the
chair move, and he was headed toward the floor.

It all flashed before him. He was going
down. Then he saw the little boy running around naked, and two
strong, yet feminine arms were wrapped around him keeping him from
falling.

“What in the hell were you doing?” Chelsea
hollered as she guided him toward the bed, and sat him on the edge.
“You could have fallen and hurt yourself.”

“I’m already hurt.”

“Don’t you get sassy with me,” she scolded.
Her cheeks were fire red, and her eyes wide. “I’m here to help you,
and you’re damn well going to let me. Don’t you ever do that
again.”

“You’re not my mother,” he retorted with
equal venom.

“No, but I am,” his mother said from the
doorway as she picked up Lucas and wrapped him back up in his
towel. “I’ll strap you to that bed if you do that again.”

Russell fisted his hands. “I’m fine. I have
to learn to do this.”

Chelsea leaned in real close. “Then you let
me teach you,” she growled through clenched teeth. “I’ll damn well
let you do it when you’re strong enough.”

His mother cleared her throat. “I’ll take
him upstairs and get him dressed.”

He noticed Chelsea didn’t even look their
way. “Thank you,” she said as she kept a steely stare on him. When
his mother and her son were out of the room, she eased back. “As
pleasant as it is, why don’t you let me look at your catheter bag
so I can dump it.”

Humiliation crept up his spine and spread
through his skin like a burn from the inside. “Can’t we have
someone else do that?”

“I’m the nurse your parents hired to take
care of you.”

“But you’re not a full nurse yet.”

“Nope, but I’m here. It’ll take them hours
to get someone else out here from town to do it. By then, you might
have an infection if its full and flowing the wrong way up the
tube. Perhaps you should just remember that I’ve seen everything
you have, only now it’s absolutely in a professional capacity. You
don’t have to worry about anything.”

God, he hated this. He hated every part of
it.

He had no choices. This was his reality.

“Fine,” he spat out. “Do it and then let me
get some rest. Those pills my mother gave me are starting to make
your face fuzzy.”

She laughed as she lifted his legs onto the
bed and pulled up his pant leg.

Russell laid his head back on the billion
pillows his mother thought the bed needed for show, and closed his
eyes. He didn’t want to see her looking at his—anything.

She lifted his pant leg only. “You’ll be
okay for a little bit. What this tells me is you need more
fluids.”

He opened his eyes and squinted at her.
“These are not the kinds of things I want to hear you tell me.”

“Oh, is there anything you want me to tell
you?” She bore a stare into him, and he knew she was thinking about
his drugged slip of words when he’d first seen her. He’d told her
he loved her, and he wondered if it would always haunt him. But
then he thought about it. There was something he wanted her to tell
him.

“Why don’t you tell me where you were the
night of my accident.”

Her eyes grew wide. “You want to know where
I was when you were in your accident?”

“Yeah. I mean, I was run off the road by a
truck that was owned by your ex-husband, which they found parked at
your house.”

“Across from my house,” she clarified
curtly.

“Did he leave you that truck?”

Chelsea fisted her hands at her side, and he
could see the lines form at the corners of her eyes. Her breath
came faster now, and he was finding great satisfaction in seeing
her fume over his question.

“I have never driven that truck before.”

“So, where were you?”

Her nostrils were flaring and he’d yet to
get his answer. Was she having to think about it? Could he possibly
have hit on something?

“Is everything okay,” his mother’s voice cut
through the tension that had enveloped the room

She stepped in with Lucas on her hip, but
the moment he saw his mother, he wiggled his way down and hurried
to Chelsea.

She batted her eyes, obviously trying not to
cry. Lucas pulled at her pant leg, and she bent down to pick him
up.

“A nurse will be here in the morning. I’ll
have her check in on you,” she informed him gruffly.

His mother moved toward the bed. “Is
everything okay here?”

“I’ll let him fill you in. I’m going to go
pack.” She turned toward his mother. “Thank you again for
everything. This isn’t going to work.”

A moment later she was gone.

His mother fisted her hands on her hips,
narrowed her stare on him, and moved in. He might be a grown man,
but she still scared the hell out of him. The only difference
between when he was a child and now—he couldn’t run.

“What did you say to her.”

“Mom, it’s not worth it. I don’t know what
you’re thinking to have her here helping me, but…”

“I’m helping her. You’ll be fine soon
enough,” she interrupted. “That girl needs someone to watch over
her. Phillip can’t do it all the time. He’s protecting the rest of
the city. That little boy doesn’t need any more drama in his short
little life. He needs love. He needs fresh air. He needs chicken
coops to get muddy in. You…you need to focus on healing. And I
can’t think of a better way than having someone who knows how to
put up with your whiney crap help you along.”

His mouth fell open, but he had no
words.

How could he have accused her of hurting him
physically? Sure, she’d done it emotionally. Then again, who says
she couldn’t have done it anyway.

The drugs were messing up his thinking.
Hell, a few days ago, he’d told the woman he loved her. Could it be
any more confusing?

Russell looked at his mother, but she was
getting fuzzy. The pain meds she’d given him were starting to take
effect. There needed to be an apology. He just wasn’t sure if it
should come to him or if he should be giving it. It took a lot of
through process to realize it was dark. His eyes were closed and
for the life of him, he couldn’t pry them open.

The swirling in his head usually meant he
was going under. Fine, he’d face this problem when he woke up. At
least he’d have more energy for it then.

Chapter Ten

 

Lucas had begun to cry when Chelsea took his
blanket and shoved it in the suitcase. At the moment, she had to
turn a deaf ear to it and finish what she’d started. They needed to
get out of the house and go back to their life—the one that didn’t
include the Walkers, no matter how depressing the thought.

When she picked up his Tigger, he let out an
ungodly screech, and she turned to see him standing there with his
arms up and his face red from the tears he’d been crying.

This wasn’t what she’d wanted when she’d
stormed out on Russell. She’d wanted Russell to look like this.

Chelsea picked up Lucas and handed him the
Tigger. Then she pulled him close to her, and he rested his head on
her shoulder, almost as if he knew she needed the comfort.

There was a knock at the door, and when she
looked up, she saw Phillip standing there, his hat in his hand.

“Glenda says our patient is a little
testy.”

She realized she was rocking from side to
side as Lucas had fallen asleep on her shoulder. Perhaps his
falling asleep was to calm her as much as it was what he
needed.

Because she wasn’t going to wake him, she
took a breath and quieted her voice. “He’s an ass. I can’t do this.
I can’t stay here and take care of him.” She rubbed Lucas’s back as
she walked toward the bed. With his Tigger gripped tightly in his
hands, she laid him down on the bed and pulled a small blanket up
over him.

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