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Ande fished my phone out of my pocket, but before she could answer it Folsom said, “No need. We’re running late. We had to pull over so I could look into what I found.”
Tucking the phone into my back pocket, she reached for my messy shirt and managed to get it off me without getting peanut butter in my hair.
“And what did you find?” I asked curiously, wondering how hot the water would need to be to wash the peanut butter off. Addison hated hot water. The most she could do was lukewarm, and that was going to make the peanut butter removal process downright impossible.
I’d asked her to look into Abraham McBride, because I’d heard through the grapevine that he was being transferred to a private facility.
More likely, one of his wives—though he only had three who’d willingly stood by his side in the aftermath of what he’d done—had decided to find a way to pay for the extra care he needed.
And he did need it.
Autry had gone out of his way to make it so Abraham wouldn’t be given a light prison sentence, or tried lightly by the military due to his rank and status.
Meaning, Abraham had received some brain damage, and now he needed round-the-clock supervision because sometimes he forgot to do simple things like feed himself or take showers.
It was the best possible scenario, because he practically needed a twenty-four-hour caregiver now, and the military hadn’t wanted to deal with that. So they’d given him a dishonorable discharge after a bunch of media scrutiny. From there, he was sentenced to a prison that specialized in giving extra care to inmates.
Only, he was up for parole last month, and his wives had immediately started looking into moving him to a more comfortable facility. Now I just wanted to know where the fucker was going to live, so I could make sure it wasn’t anywhere near me and mine.
“They’re moving him to a place in Iowa,” Folsom said. “But get this. He had a setback last week. When they were cleaning up his belongings, getting him ready for the move, he tried to punch his own daughter. And the daughter literally fucked him up more. She dodged his hit, countered with an elbow to the solar plexus, and Abraham went down like a sack of shit. He hit his head on the corner of the bed, and he’s been out ever since. Everything is documented, too. So this was all on the up and up.”
“What happened to the daughter?” Ande asked, sounding alarmed.
“She and the mom were already having issues. Apparently, she wanted nothing to do with her father. The mom wanted her to try to be civil. So the daughter went and ‘helped’ to appease her mother. But she’s been taking self-defense classes—and I’m looking more into the why of that—but yeah. As you can see, she probably should’ve steered clear,” Folsom answered.
“Bad!” Addison replied, splashing the water around. “Water is hot!”
I rolled my eyes. “Addison, it’s literally freezing.”
“No, it’s not!” she argued.
If nothing else, she was really good at that.
“Addison,” I started, but Ande laughed and patted my arm. “Go get your son.”
I left my daughter in the very capable hands of my wife.
Ande had much more patience than I did.
I loved my kids; really, I did.
But just like my nieces and nephews, there was only so much of their bullshit I could handle. And Ande was a softy. She loved our kids.
At least our son, Tex, wasn’t bad like his sister, yet.
Walking into the shared room almost scared of what I’d see, I found my sisters already cleaning it up. “It’s not bad. They decided to do it in the bathroom at least.”
Thank God for small miracles.
“I’m coming to get Tex so your kids don’t infect him with their badness, too,” I teased.
“Whatever,” Val laughed. “Your kid is just as bad as ours.”
She was right, dammit.
They were all awful.
But they were happy.
