Retribution Road by Jon Coon (e reader comics .TXT) 📕

“Tell me about the senator. He seems like a stand-up guy.”

“He is. His daddy was the last of the big-time oilmen, what was known as a wildcatter. Made and lost several fortunes while we were growing up. That happened a lot in the oil business back then. Bob and I joined the Air Force together and then the Rangers. His dad put a lot of pressure on him to join the family business, and after ten years with me in the Rangers, his daddy was in bad shape and Bob felt obligated to help out. He thought it would be short term. As soon as his dad died he’d sell the company or close it and come back to the Rangers. But sometimes timing is everything. Turned out Bob is a business genius and his timing was perfect. He turned the company around and before long was buying up his competition and making mergers with the ones he couldn’t buy.

“Rags to riches, billions I suppose, in less than twenty years. Then he went into politics. Won his first election by a landslide and has never faced a serious challenger since. He was good for the oil business and is great for Texas. He was the best partner I ever had. Like I told you, Carol dated his son, Bobby. Don’t think it was ever serious, but they were pals. I think she wanted to be best man at his wedding.”

“Have you talked with her recently?”

“Does that mean you haven’t?”

“Things have been a little crazy.”

“She’s had some long talks with Paul. I heard your name mentioned once or twice.”

“And?”

“Sounds like you might have gotten through to that boy. That, and he had a real come-to-Jesus moment back in that cave. There may be hope for him yet.”

“I certainly hope so. But there are still questions about that truck and the dead girl.”

A plane was waiting for them at Houston International. In a little over an hour, they landed at the ranch and taxied to a waiting hangar. Carol was there and welcomed them with smiles and tears. Emily hugged Gabe like she was trying to get the last glob of toothpaste out of the tube and then planted a polite kiss on her brother’s cheek.

Angelica held back until Carol pulled her into a mama bear hug and thanked her repeatedly for saving Paul. Tom, the gear, and the kids piled into the truck. Gabe looked at Carol, who smiled at him and said, “I’ve got a four-wheeler, or we could walk.”

“My legs could use a stretch. Let’s hoof it.”

“Doesn’t that sound all cowboy and everything.” She laughed. “I missed you. I missed hearing from you. That worried me.”

They started up the road, and Gabe hesitated, trying to come up with a better answer than, “I didn’t know what to say, so it was just easier not to call.”

Finally, he began. “Things got … well … out of hand. We were on the run a lot, and frankly, I needed time to think before we had a serious talk.”

“How serious?”

“Your dad asked me to stay and join the Rangers. I’m thinking about it.”

“Leave Florida? Leave us?”

“This is your real home. I was hoping you would come with me. We could get a place here. You would have family, Emily and Paul would have their grandfather. That’s big.”

“I loved Charlie, Gabe, you know that. But loving him wasn’t the only reason I married him. I wanted—no—I needed to get out from under my dad’s big shadow. I wanted to be free of his expectations and his constant direction. To make my own decisions and run my own life.”

“That sounds pretty normal to me. I think all of us want that autonomy.”

“Yeah, but Dad was more controlling than most. He told me where to go to school and what courses to take. He pushed me to be the national cutting horse champion. Then he wanted me to marry Bobby Benson and be the next senator’s wife. I don’t think he ever once asked me what I wanted. If I’d listened, that would have been me, dead in Bobby’s plane.”

“You can’t know that. The future’s not that predictable.”

“There’s more. He’s built a bunker with more tech gear than NASA. It’s staffed 24/7 by a bunch of military brainiacs, and it must have cost a fortune. Dad doesn’t have that kind of money. At least he never did before, and I’m worried. He’s obsessed with the cartels and the drugs and the illegal immigration. He sees it as some huge conspiracy. You heard him. He thinks it’s up to him to stop it, and it’s only going to get him killed.”

“He told me you called him Don Quixote.”

“Yes, and you’ll remember, that didn’t end well.”

“I wondered. Don’t think I ever read it.”

“Well, trust me, the comparison fits. It’s an old knight who jousts with windmills, goes nuts, and the windmills win.”

They were about halfway to the house when she paused, took off her wide-brimmed straw hat, wiped her sweating forehead, and watched two colts playing in the paddock.

“I love this place, but I don’t ever want to move back here and give up my life—our life. Please don’t ask me to do that. Don’t make me choose.”

“I wasn’t sure you were still thinking about ‘our’ life. You know how I feel about being a cop. That’s not something I can walk away from.”

“I know. It’s just hard. But maybe we can make a deal: I’ll think about being a cop’s wife again, as long as it’s in Florida, or anywhere else but here.”

“You’ll think about it? What does that mean?”

“It means I built that big house for both of us, and I want your boots under my bed and not in that trailer. It means I love you, but you have issues, and moving back here is a deal breaker.”

“Okay, I’m good with that. But I’m not going to abandon your dad. I’m going to stay with him,