Only last night, did they retreat.

And that was because, his wife being there, she was there to beat them back.

So he let her do it again and fell asleep thinking of nothing but her warmth, her softness, the scent of her hair and fucking her in the shower the next morning.

Chapter Seventeen.

The Home Stretch "Alexa Walker?"

"That's me." I smiled at the delivery man standing on our back deck, he smiled back, offered me his pen-like doohickey, I signed the screen on his other doohickey, gave it back to him and he handed me the big, soft-sided envelope.

I took it, gave him a wave, shut the door on him, hoped he didn't take offense when I also flipped the lock (these days in Carnal, couldn't be too careful) then I took the package to the island and ripped it open.

Two plastic wrapped tees fell out and I didn't hesitate to rip the plastic off, pleased to feel the cotton of the tee was soft and supple, not scratchy and stiff. I shook the first one out, Ty's size, and held it out in front of me.

Then I smiled huge.

I flipped it around and looked at the back.

My smile got bigger.

I ripped open the next one, girl-fit, my size but same color, same words on the front, different words on the back.

I cleared all the packaging away, shoved it in the garbage bin and then laid the tees side by side on the counter, smoothed them out flat, stepped back and stared at them.

I'd found the site on-line, design your own tees and pay practically nothing to get them express.

So I bought Ty and I black tees that said on the front, "Team Walker" in big white letters and in smaller lettered italics with quotes under it, "We never admit defeat". On the back of Ty's it said, "Mr. Humongo" and on the back of mine it said, "Mr. Humongo's Mama".

I freaking loved them.

Ty would take one look at them and think I was a total goof.

I didn't care. And if he only wore his at home while watching games, I didn't care about that either.

But I was wearing mine in town.

After, of course, all the bad guys went away. Had to keep my head down. Too much happening, I didn't need to be in their face.

It was Monday about a week and a half after I got home and all that time had been busy.

I got home on a Thursday. Ty had to work both Friday and Saturday. Friday was taken up with me getting the house in order, catching up, sorting shit out, getting my car and then dinner with Julius and Anana. Saturday, Ty arranged for Tate, Deke, Jonas and Bubba to go get my shit from Dominic and Daniel's and me unpacking it. Sunday was shopping where we bought a square coffee table and a big rug for the living room that was a beautiful light cream with a black edge that went perfect with the black couch and Tuku's pen and ink. Ty again slid straight into shopping mode with no pressure from me and he also bought a big, oval, art deco, black dining room table with six matching chairs, their seats and backs upholstered in cream. We moved the sectional and TV from the side wall all the way across so it formed a cozy seating area in front of the fireplace and left a huge expanse of space behind it where we put the dining room table when it was delivered.

I, of course, on a lunch break bought the big, round, glass vase I had my eye on at the Carnal Country Store and the proprietress thanked me profusely for buying it saying, "Sugar, that thing has been on my shelf for a year and a half. Ranchers and bikers do not have an eye for glass vases. But I thought it was pretty. I gotta learn, if it don't have an antler or a skull on it, I'm screwed."

I was happy to take it off her hands and happier that she'd marked it down fifty percent.

The vase looked perfect in the middle of the table.

The next Thursday, Ty's day off but I was back at work, I came home and it had two dozen blush and cream roses in it.

That was my husband. He did bling of all kinds, some of it didn't shine as bright but that didn't mean it wasn't awesome.

Outside of the time I spent with Ty, reacquainting myself with friends, getting back to work, unpacking and sorting our home, I spent my time getting my shit sorted. I went to the DMV and got a Colorado driver's license and plates for my new (red with wide, black racing stripes running up the hood, roof and down the back, 2012, fucking gorgeous) Charger. I'd already had my mail forwarded from Dallas but I put another forward on it when I left, sending it to Ella. I again changed that. I also got on-line and changed all my information with anyone who carried it. I'd closed my bank account in Dallas when I was there but opened one in Carnal. And Ty put money in it so I could pay off my credit cards which I did.

I did all this because I would do all this (eventually) but I did this as a matter of priority because Ty asked me to make certain that "those assclowns got no shit to fuck with you with".

I saw the wisdom of this advice and didn't delay.

Bessie had politely declined our offer but did not decline keeping the cash I earned from my Charger, cash I left behind with her. She promised me, once she got on her feet, she'd pay me back. I let her promise me that and when she tried to pay me back, I would decline. I knew she'd take care of me for free, I knew she'd take care of me no matter what but I needed to give her that. It didn't cover what I owed her for pulling me together after I fell apart but then again, nothing would. But it would be something.

Then she left Panama City Beach and headed to Miami. She'd never been there but she heard it was a fun place to be and was going to check it out. The last word I had from her (which was yesterday) was that she liked it, wanted to give it a shot and was currently looking for a job.

I had mixed feelings about this. Dallas was a one day, very long haul from Carnal. Miami was a lot fucking further. But she'd been in a shit situation and unhappy almost as long as I had been with Ronnie. It was good she was making this change and if she liked Miami then I would like Miami for her.

And anyway, it would be fun when Ty and I could visit her there.

Things had changed for Ty and I and when I say that I mean for the better. There was nothing between us now, it was out there, open, talked about. He shared more, I got to listen more. Day to day, he relaxed more, he smiled more, he laughed more and my man was fucking funny so I laughed more too. We'd weathered one hell of a storm but we did not come out with nicks and dents. We came out tougher, stronger, closer.

But even though home life was good, great, the best, the sun shining all the time not only because it was August in Colorado but because there were no clouds over our life, Carnal was different.

There were clouds over Carnal, big, black, threatening thunderclouds. Everyone felt them, everyone was being cautious, quiet, braced and waiting for that first crack of thunder and bolt of lightning, hoping they weren't too close when it struck.

Although the news travelled slow, the murder of Misty Keaton, allegedly by Officer Rowdy Crabtree, sent low, buzzing shockwaves through the town.

I thought Ty would at least receive suspicious glances but this did not happen. Ty had been gone awhile but Ty was well-known, well-known enough that folks knew that was not his style.

But the town was humming with gossip and at the salon, as it had a tendency to be at salons, that hum was fast, furious and prolific.

Therefore I learned, not surprisingly, that Misty was not well-liked. No one had much against her five plus years ago, though she was known as a gold-digger intent on making a good marriage. But public opinion of her plummeted when she lied about Ty's alibi then took another significant drop when she married Chace Keaton. This was because many guessed the connection and, to my surprise, I learned that many liked Chace and didn't like him saddled with the likes of Misty. When she married a town cop who happened to be in line for a large inheritance, she instantly decided her shit didn't stink and let everyone know she felt that way and they should too. This behavior was further frowned upon. After that, what was left of her popularity took a nosedive but she didn't care much seeing as she had a hot guy in her bed, his ring on her finger and his Daddy's fortune on the way, all she had to do was wait for the old man to die.

Through salon gossip, I also learned that this didn't work out for her as she had planned. From the beginning, Chace made it blindingly and publicly apparent that he was not blissfully married. He put up with her. He went through the motions. But he didn't like either. And because he could barely stomach the sight of his wife, when he needed to get him a little somethin' somethin', he went elsewhere and did this openly.

By the time Misty Keaton had walked into Carnal Spa that day I met her, she'd spent five years living with a man who could barely stand the sight of her, didn't hide that and cheated on her repeatedly and blatantly. Salon buzz said that, as year slid into year and Chace didn't come to heel, Misty became more and more beaten. Salon buzz said that, even though she was what she was and did what she did, she actually loved her husband and his continued hatred of her was wearing her down. Salon buzz said that even before Ty was released, Misty was rethinking her actions. Salon buzz said that Misty was coming to the conclusion that Chace's Daddy's millions weren't worth that. And salon buzz said that Misty bought it because the authority knew this and needed to assure she didn't do something they wouldn't like much.

And salon buzz said that Rowdy was set up to take the fall mostly because he was an asshole. In a long line of local cops that people did not like or trust, Rowdy stood out prominent because he was not only the dick I knew him to be but a serious dick. He used the authority his position provided him as a weapon, his badge and uniform as a shield. He regularly and randomly fucked with citizens of Carnal and he did this for shits and giggles.

Although no one believed Rowdy took Misty Keaton to Harker's Wood, shot her and left his weapon, primarily because he had no motive to do this and wasn't stupid enough to leave that kind of evidence seeing as he was a cop, just a dirty one, still, no one really cared if he went down for it.

"What comes around, goes around," Avril stated, smiling gleefully and leaning against the high front of my reception desk, in for a mani/pedi and also gossip.

But underneath all this gossip and speculation, there was fear. A woman was dead. No one liked her much but that was pretty extreme. Whoever was spooked was seriously spooked and the citizens of Carnal were worried about what was next.

As for me, it was difficult to admit, but I felt a sense of calm settle over me as all this gossip filtered into my brain.

While my husband was serving a sentence for a crime he didn't commit and, to that day, after I went to sleep, he got up and jacked up the AC so high I woke up with a frozen nose every morning and he did this because the heat, stench and feel of that place had beat into his bones and he needed that cool, clean air to beat it back, I liked knowing that Misty wasn't living the dream she'd lied her way into.

Sure, I couldn't say I wanted her dead. But I could say I felt that maybe there was justice at work out there in the universe knowing she'd lived her own version of five years of hell.

And it made me feel better that, if she'd lived, she wouldn't have what Ty and I had.

So she'd betrayed him and used him and when he was down, she stepped right on him to haul herself up to what she thought was the next level of life and bought herself misery, heartbreak and, eventually, being dragged to a wood in the middle of the night and shot to death.

She definitely deserved misery and heartbreak, if not being murdered, so I felt that yes, maybe there was justice at work out there.

And I just hoped it kept working so my man could eventually really breathe free and live with a clear name.

I left the tees where they lay and headed out to the mailbox thinking about what I was going to do the rest of my day. It was late morning and considering I got up at an ungodly hour to shower with Ty, after he left, I'd cleaned the house and done the laundry. Then I'd gussied up to go into town. We needed some groceries. I wanted to stop by La-La Land to get a latte and maybe something for dessert because Shambles made the best of everything sweet, Ty had a sweet tooth and he'd told me the day before that he'd been home now for months but had yet to wander into La-La Land and I felt it a moral imperative to introduce him to their goods which were good. I was also thinking of going to the mall and getting some fabric to make curtains for the guest bedroom. There were horizontal blinds in there but the room needed color, the walls were an eggshell white but it was utilitarian. Maybe I'd head to the hardware store and get some paint chips. In fact, Ty and my room could use some work. I'd get some paint chips for that room too.

I was thinking all this as I got the mail and brought it back. When I started sifting through and opening mail, my head was filled with possible colors, color combos, maybe a new comforter cover and sheets for Ty and my bed, not to mention, looking into filling our room a bit by setting up a reading area because winter would be on the mountains soon and I'd need it when I lost my deck.

So I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing until I slid my finger into the side of an envelope, tore it open, pulled out and unfolded a tri-folded sheet of paper, turned it over, saw it was handwritten, looked at the salutation then the closing signature and went still.

I realized my error right away. I'd opened Ty's mail accidentally.

But I couldn't stop myself from reading it.

Ty, I did wrong, I did bad and I know I'm going to pay.

But before I do, I have to do right.

I sent this to a girlfriend of mine in Maryland. I told her, if anything happens to me, to put it in the mail to you. I also sent her some other things. They'll go to other people.

And they say that I lied about not being with you that weekend. They explain that Arnie came to me asking me for a favor and that I'd be compensated. I won't say how and the other stuff won't say how either. That doesn't matter and it would hurt another good man who got caught in the net.

I've done enough of that.

But in that stuff I said straight out that I lied and Arnie Fuller asked me to do it and compensated me for doing it. I was with you that weekend, all weekend. You didn't attend a poker game and you didn't kill a man because that whole time you were with me.

I would say I'm sorry but I expect you don't care if I am. I would explain why I did what I did but I expect you don't care why either.

But I will say that I'm glad you're happy. I met your wife and saw her with you at the garage so I know that to be true. I talked to Stella and she said you're doing great and moving on. You were always a strong guy and I guess I figured you'd make it and I wasn't wrong.

I still wish I didn't do what I did to you and not just because I have to write this letter and what it means that you're reading it. I've been thinking about it for years, five years, and I thought it would be worth it but it wasn't.

I hope what I've done will be enough to clear your name and right the wrongs done to you.

And that's it, I guess. There isn't much more to say.

I made a lot of mistakes in my life, you were always a good guy and the biggest mistake I ever made was doing what I did to you.

I hope you live free and happy.

Misty By the time I was done reading it, I didn't know how I managed it because my hand was shaking so hard.

But I managed it and when I was done I managed to move across the kitchen to the side counter by the stairs to get to my purse and grab my phone. Then I managed to find Ty's number, hit go and put it to my ear.

Three rings then, "Mama."

"Ty," I breathed, moving back to the letter and then I couldn't figure out what to say.

"What?" he barked in my ear, I jumped at his harsh tone and realized he'd mistaken mine.

"No, no, it's not bad, baby, it's not..." I sucked in breath. "Okay, now, listen. I was thinking about paint chips and curtains and going to La-La Land to get you some dessert for tonight and so I wasn't "

"Babe," he bit off, clipped and impatient.

"Right," I whispered, sucked in more breath then went on. "I accidentally opened your mail and what I accidentally opened was a handwritten letter from Misty Keaton that lays it out that she lied about not being your alibi."

Silence. A very long silence. A very long, very heavy silence.

So I called, "Ty?"

"You're shittin' me." That was a whisper.

"No," I whispered back.

"You're shittin' me," he repeated.

"No, honey." I kept whispering. "Do you want me to read it to you?"

"Yeah."

I picked it up, my hand still slightly shaking and I read it to him.

My hand dropped to the counter when I was done and he murmured, "Shit."

"You okay?" I asked.

"Fuck," he murmured in answer.

"That's not an answer, honey," I said gently.

Silence.

"Ty? Honey, talk to me."

"Right now, Lexie, take that upstairs and put it in the safe."

I grabbed the envelope with the letter and immediately started walking to the stairs saying, "I don't know the combination."