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Today, however, a truck had run his car off the road and into a deep ravine. Roe had never been so frightened in his life. He still heard Fergie’s yelps from the back seat. Fortunately, Fergie’s seat harness had kept him from flying through a window.
“Fergie could have died, too,” Tris said softly, slumping onto the couch beside them.
Roe wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders. “We’re all alright, son.”
Roe had a broken nose, black eyes, bruised ribs, and a fractured ankle. His whole body ached, but he was alive. Fergie was curled up on his dog bed, sore and tired himself. The vet had cleared him and told them the dog had been extremely lucky.
They would have been a lot worse off if another car hadn’t come upon them. The young couple in it had gotten a good look at the truck and even a partial license plate number before it drove off. Waiting for help had been excruciating. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help Fergie. Cain had beat the ambulance to the accident site, and Roe had never been so happy to see him.
“I already called Sheriff McKenzie,” Cain said, his voice tired. “He’s happy to help and has plenty of room for everyone.” He pointedly looked toward the corner of the room. “Everyone.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Roe groaned, neck twinging as he looked toward the corner. “No offense, Wally.”
“None taken.” Wally smiled, arms crossed in front of him. “I’m still not leaving.”
The professional bodyguard had been waiting at the house when Roe finally got home. Cain moved quickly—so quickly that Roe suspected he’d had Wally contracted before the accident.
The large bald man was an imposing sight at first glance. He was huge and muscled with intricate tattoos covering his bare arms. However, all anyone had to do was look at his warm brown eyes, and they’d know the truth: Wally was a sweetie-pie. Well, a sweetie-pie who could flatten a person if he wanted to.
“We want Wally there,” Tris said, leaning his head on Roe’s other shoulder. “It makes us feel better.”
Roe narrowed his eyes, not completely sure if his son was playing him or being honest.
“We’ll pack your bags tonight, even your art supplies,” Cain said, jumping to his feet. “You can be on the road by tomorrow.”
“What?” Roe scowled. “I haven’t—”
“While you’re gone,” Cain continued, ignoring him, “I’ll have the car looked over for evidence and stay on top of the police investigation. We’ll find what we need.”
Roe stared at his friend a moment. If he were to paint Cain, it would be a traditional oil painting with asphaltum shading—somber but warm. A well-worn, comforting presence. He knew Cain was right, but Roe was scared. The thought of leaving his home made him angry. James and Gabriel had kept Roe on edge for years with the constant battering of their threats and scheming. Roe didn’t want to run. He’d lived in Loriston for twenty years now didn’t want to be chased out of town, damn it.
Cain gave him a knowing look. “This is necessary, Roe. When I arrived, your car was totaled at the bottom of a ravine. Fergie was howling, and I thought you were dead.”
“I don’t want them to win,” Roe whispered, hugging his two eldest children closer to him.
“This isn’t a game to win or lose. This was attempted murder.” Cain began to pace behind the couch. “I won’t let them get away with this. I’ll find their connection to the driver of the truck. I just need to know you and the kids are safe in the meantime.”
“Benji could have been in the car with you, Dad.” Tris sniffled and rubbed his face against Roe’s shoulder. “I don’t usually pick him up from daycare. You do.”
Roe shivered at the thought of his youngest being in the car with him today. Right now, Benji was asleep upstairs, unaware of how close his dad had come to dying. The anger drained from him, leaving behind numb fatigue. He was so tired of being afraid.
“Okay.” Roe tightened his hold on Tris and Daphne. “We’ll do it.”
“Can we bring Mmrr and Fergie?” Daphne asked.
Mmrr lifted her head when she heard her name. The large fluffy white cat lay on one of the chairs across the room.
“Room for everyone,” Cain said, nodding. “Let’s start packing. Tris, will you pack up your dad’s studio? We’ll take two cars, so box up everything.”
Tris stood and kissed the top of Roe’s head. “On it.”
“I’ll pack for Benji and the pets.” Daphne slowly untangled herself from Roe’s hug. “How long will we be gone?”
“Hopefully only a few months.” Cain knelt beside Fergie and started gently petting the dog.
“Plan for the rest of year,” Roe said, closing his eyes. “School will start in two months, and I don’t want to move you or Benji midsemester.”
Daphne danced in place. “That means I get a semester away from St. James Academy. Perfect.”
