by E. M. Moore
Wyatt shoves him, and Lance topples over, splashing into the stream before flailing about and finally stumbling out of the water with a gigantic breath. His fake hair is plastered to his head as he struggles to his feet. Ninja and Pete hang back, waiting for our orders, and honestly, I’m not sure what to do. I’d like to never see him again. I’d like to never have to lay sight on this man who’s done so much more damage than he probably even realizes.
He gazes between all of us. “What are you going to do to me?”
Wyatt and I glance at each other. As much as I want to see him dead, I can’t take that decision away from Stone. Lance would’ve done it to us in a heartbeat—hell, he tried to multiple times—but if we turn around and do the same to him, what does that make us?
Justified, obviously. But I don’t want to be anything like Lance fucking Jacobs.
I want to be so much more. I want to surround myself in love, not power. I want to make decisions for the good of the people around me, not for the benefit of myself. I want to have a life filled with happiness, not money.
That’s how I want to live.
That’s what my guys have been trying to tell me this whole time. When they were trying to get me to live, this is what they meant.
Gold or no gold, I can choose to be the person I want to be in this moment. Wyatt nods at me as if he and I are on the same wavelength. A minute ago, I wanted Lance dead. I still kind of do. He doesn’t deserve anything more.
But also, I’m not sure I can pull the trigger on that decision right now. He’s practically shaking in his boots. He’s no harm to me nor anyone I love right now.
I might regret this but.... “We’ll take him back to Clary. I can tell the police how he kidnapped me and walked me up the mountains to make me find the treasure for him. Unless Stone wants something else by the time we get there.”
“If Stone’s alive,” Wyatt growls.
Okay, so he and I are definitely not on the same page.
“We have some time to think about it,” Ninja hedges. “Looks like we’ll be hiking back to the main road.”
I nod, and we start making our way down the mountain. I look back before the valley goes out of sight. It sucks to be walking away from the next clue, but I can’t be selfish. Stone, Lucas, and Wyatt helped me get this far. I can’t go off finding it without two of them, can I?
First, I need to make sure they’re okay.
We meet up with the trail and about halfway down, we hear ringing. Wyatt and I both stare at Ninja as he digs a SAT phone out of his pocket.
When we stop, Lance practically slumps against a tall shrub. He’s been slowing us down this whole trip. Ninja kept shoving him forward until Lance started falling to his knees every time. He’s far from the man who ordered Lucas shot. He’s pathetic.
Ninja answers the phone, squinting. A strong voice yells from the other end. He takes the phone away from his ear. “Where are we?”
Just as I’m about to tell him, the whooshing of helicopter blades echo down the mountain. Ninja turns and looks toward the sky. “We hear you. We’re headed back toward the trailhead.”
The metal beast starts as a tiny object dotting the horizon until it flies closer and closer before hovering above us again. We shield our faces from the wind, then Ninja yells, “Yes,” into the receiver before ending the call. The basket lowers, and we all move toward it, Pete pushing Lance forward.
When Wyatt and I are inside, I hold onto the rope as we raise into the belly of the helicopter. My hair swirls around my head, tangling. Ninja, Pete, and Lance get smaller and smaller until we’re hefted onto solid ground. I scramble out as fast as I can, and the basket lowers again right afterward.
A hand closes around mine. I turn to find Stone sitting in one of the bucket seats, belted in, and I dive toward him. He wraps his arms around me as my cheek comes to a rest against his stomach. Relief washes over me. My head rises and lowers with his every breath, and my throat works. I dig my nails into his side, and he grasps me with the same force, his fingers tangling in my hair. When I finally take the time to peer up at him, he has a fresh, professional-looking bandage around his head. He’s clearly already been to the hospital and released.
How handy helicopters must be for transportation.
Someone shoves a helmet on me from behind. “Babe, you there?” Stone’s crackly voice asks.
I nod at Stone as I’m helped to my feet and shown the seat next to him. Hands belt me in just as another black-clad man is doing the same for Wyatt across from us. Cole sits next to him.
I raise my arms so they can secure the fasteners. “What’s going on?”
“Pretty boy, here, wanted to come back up.” The connection isn’t clear, but it’s evident Cole is the one who responded.
“Shouldn’t you be in the hospital?” I scold, looking to my right.
“I hit my head and split the skin open. I got some stitches. I’m fine.”
I sigh at his words. “I thought you’d been shot.”
“No, just passed out.”
I grab his hand once I’m settled in. “Lucas?”
“In surgery,” Cole speaks up. “The bullet lodged in his hip bone. He’s going to be fine, but they took him directly into the operating room.”
I lean my head back against the seat, squeezing Stone’s sure fingers. The urge to kill Lance is once again very strong.
As if on cue, the two guys at the mouth of the helicopter drag the basket between us. Ninja, Pete, and Lance step out.
Cole’s voice comes through the headset loud and clear. “Now it’s on you.”
The tone in his voice says it all. He probably would’ve killed him already, and really, maybe it would’ve been easier if he’d died in the shootout.
Stone glares at Lance. “I have a fate worse than death for my father. Something he’ll hate more than anything.”
Lance peeks at his son. He can’t hear what we’re saying but he’d be a fool if he didn’t know we were discussing him. Two men close the helicopter up, and we start to turn. Lance scrambles for purchase, using one of the straps hanging from the roof. His feet glide over the floor, and he struggles to stay upright until the vehicle evens out again.
Stone moves his gaze to Cole. “If we can arrange it so he spends the rest of his life in jail, he’ll die slowly. His freedoms will be taken away. His power. His money. Everything he holds dear will slip through his fingers.”
Cole, who must have grabbed a new shirt while he was at the hospital, rubs his chin. “There are a bunch of dead bodies in the mountains right now. They can be pinned on someone.”
“We can dig up evidence that he kidnapped Dakota,” Wyatt adds.
Stone shakes his head, turning toward me. “I want her out of this. She’s already had to go through so much because of him.” To Cole, he says, “If we can pin the dead bodies on him, I want it done.”
Cole unbuckles his restraints. “I’ll see what I can do.” He gets up from his seat and moves into the cockpit with the pilot, leaving us with the black-clad pseudo-military men. I don’t know who they are. They don’t necessarily look like Dragons. At the same time, I highly doubt the gang has the reach to commandeer a rescue chopper.
Actually, I don’t care how Cole did it. He did, and that’s all that matters.
Lance stares at his son, face drawn and lips moving. He must know Stone can’t hear him. He must know we have no idea what he’s saying. Stone promptly ignores him, grasping onto my hand as tightly as he can. He saved my life today. We can have the discussion another time about how he thinks he dragged me into his father’s shit. It’s all bullshit. I’ll be telling him I was always destined to be in his father’s shit ever since he started searching for the treasure.
Wyatt locks gazes with me. If I had it my way, the three of us would be alone, and I’d be able to touch both of them, feel both of them. If only to prove to myself that we’re still alive. But even then, a part of us would be missing. I lean my head back as the helicopt
er around me vibrates. We’re coming, Lucas.
I bite the inside of my lip as the emotions start to flow. There are so many things I want to say. So many things I want to tell the guys, but maybe it’s a good thing that talking is difficult right now. Maybe I need a quiet moment to sit here and think about how we’re all okay.
When things were really bad up there, I was terrified of how things were going to end. I didn’t see a way out. Some—or all of us—were going to die.
Stone wasn’t moving. Lucas was bleeding. And I couldn’t find Wyatt.
Those are the moments I don’t want to relive again. Those are the images that make me believe searching for the treasure isn’t worth it, it never was, and it never will be.
How could it be when everything I really need is still alive? Still here?
Wyatt, Stone, and Lucas are my life. And I need to protect them with everything I have. Which should be so much easier now that the threats are gone.
“I love you.” Wyatt’s voice crackles through the earpiece.
I open my eyes and smile at him. We all need some major recovery time after this. Not to mention arranging whatever is going to happen with Lance. Stone’s thought of the perfect punishment. He’s right. Jail is better than death in this case. Death would be too easy. What would make things even worse for Jacobs is if Stone takes over all of his business ventures for himself. Now that’s an idea I can get behind.
“I love you, too, cowboy,” I murmur, vowing to tell them those words every day for the rest of our lives.
He grins. “I suppose this means Lucas is going to get all the attention again?”
I laugh, the tension inside me dissipating. It’s like exhaling all the fucked-up shit that happened today, and it feels so good. “You suppose right.”
He chuckles. “Guess I should have gotten myself shot.”
I lift my hand and flip Wyatt off. “Nice try.”
Stone shakes his head with a small smile creeping over his lips. As Lance watches, Stone, Wyatt, myself—and Lucas from afar—form tighter bonds in the face of adversity. Something he never could’ve hoped to accomplish with them. Something so much bigger and brighter than what he’d given the boys.
I gave them a family. And in the midst of doing that, I gave myself one, too.
Epilogue
“I found the treasure by accident.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Wyatt chimes in, stopping me. I look up from the paper I’ve been scribbling on over the past few days. He’s sitting on our new, white couch that boasts exactly zero blood stains—just the way I like it.
“What?”
“You’re going to tell them that you found the treasure by accident?”
I smile. “You think I should tell them I found it when I was bum-rushed by an ex-military, pay-for-hire nutcase, fell, hit my head, and ended up finding the last clue as I was getting to my feet while bullets flew over my head and bodies dropped to the ground?”
He bursts out laughing. All of them do.
It’s been months since that day, but I can still see it clearly in my mind. The fear. The pain. The uncertainty of our future. The only thing that’s made it worthwhile is getting to spend every moment since with the three men in front of me.
He shrugs. “Continue then.”
I clear my throat, hands shaking a little. Tomorrow, I’m expected to give a speech at the grand opening of the Wilder Treasure Museum. As one-fourth of the founders and the only one who happens to bear the name Wilder, I was designated as the speaker even though everyone knows Stone should do it.
“I found the treasure by accident. You’d think that would be a misnomer since I’ve been trying to find the treasure all my life, but at the moment I discovered the last clue that led me to the mine, I was actually just trying to stay upright.” I pause. In my head, I imagine people chuckling in the crowd tomorrow. I mean, it is supposed to be funny. “That’s right. I fell into the treasure.” I glance at the guys who are all still staring at me. “Obviously we know what really happened, but semantics.”
Lucas gets to his feet, pulling his walker in front of him. He uses it to get around when he tires himself out. His hip replacement surgery went well, but rehab is ongoing.
It took us ages to head back into the mountains to actually figure out the last clue, but even faced with having it within reach, I suddenly wasn’t in so much of a hurry. I love those months I spent helping Lucas in rehabilitation and forming the family with the three of them that we’d always wanted. The calm after the storm. I’ll treasure those moments the most.
With two hands gripping the walker handles, Lucas leans over to kiss my cheek on his way to the kitchen. “The truth is much more harrowing. Think of all the little girls who’ll be listening to your speech tomorrow. If you tell them you fought off attackers in the midst of finding a historical treasure, you’ll be the new Wonder Woman.”
Stone watches his friend move toward the kitchen with a grimace. Lucas gets pissed if he catches us studying him. It’s hard not to hate what happened while simultaneously being so thankful that he’s still here with us.
“Maybe say...you were just walking by and the sun shone in the perfect moment in the perfect spot. You gasped, and there the initials were: N. E. C.” Wyatt’s theatrical diatribe is somewhat impressive, but I doubt I could pull it off. He pulls me onto his lap. “You don’t like it. I can tell by that little pout.”
I sink into his embrace, then place my feet on Stone’s lap. He immediately starts rubbing them for me. Despite the trouble I’d thought we’d have with Stone’s father, it all worked out smoothly. Cole absolutely knocked it out of the park, and since we already knew Lionel was on the take, it wasn’t that hard to get Lance convicted of capital murder five times. Now, he sits in the same damn prison as Wyatt’s mother—a place we’ll never set foot in again.
“Can you believe NEC meant North East Corner this whole time?” I ask for about the thousandth time.
Stone shakes his head. It’s one of those duh moments that once you discover what something means, you ask yourself why you didn’t see it in the first place.
Since the initials had come up again on the boulder, we researched what they could mean while Lucas was recuperating. We knew it had to point to something. It wasn’t the initials of a person like my father and I had always suspected. Not even close. North East Corner. And the mine? You guessed it. It was in the northeast corner of the valley. There. All that time.
Sure, it was hidden by brush and a well-placed rock that I think my ancestors left there on purpose but knowing where to search was not half the battle, it was the whole battle.
Stone, in particular, still grouses that we didn’t pick up on the NEC thing earlier.
He tickles my feet, and I screech. “Hey!”
“You’re bringing that up to pick on me.”
“Not me,” I protest. “That sounds like a Wyatt thing to do.”
Wyatt shrugs behind me. “What can I say? I’m rubbing off on her.”
“Ugh. Stop,” Stone complains, playfully shoving my feet off him. “No one wants that.”
He’s hired someone to run his father’s businesses while he finishes school. We haven’t matriculated back into Saint Clary’s yet, and since finding the treasure, we actually don’t need to, but...what else are we going to do?
We have to find something to do with the rest of our lives.
Lucas has an idea for another treasure hunt. He’s been reading up on the outlaw Jesse James stashing gold around the southwest, but I don’t know. The Superstitions are my home, and now that I have a museum to run, I might want to follow in my family’s footsteps. Not treasure hunting—been there, done that—I’m talking about adventurous treks up the mountains. I’m sure tourists would love for the finders of the Wilder treasure to take them through step-by-step how they did it.
Stone holds his hand out, wiggling his fingers. “Let me see the speech.”
My stomach turns, but I hand it over anyway. I
know he’ll give it to me straight.
Lucas hobbles back to his seat, past the tulips Stone bought me on the kitchen island, and I glare at him. “Um, walker?”
“I’m fine,” he says, waving my worries away. And really, he usually is. He went up into the mountains to get Maria Luisa’s treasure with us. Sure, he was laid up for a while after we got back, but he recovered.
Today was another one of those rough days. We got to go in the museum today for the first time and walk the different exhibits. I actually stood in front of a glass wall with the Wilder treasure map safely encased on the other side through a quarter-inch thick glass casing. Yes, I was making sure nothing else ever happened to that map again. It’ll never be back to its former glory, but at least we still have it. It’s sitting exactly where my father and I always wanted it.
All the walking at the museum got to Lucas, but tomorrow, he’ll be back to almost his normal self. The doctor says he’ll be brand new as soon as everything properly heals. He’s not supposed to do anything too strenuous, but the treasure—and his libido—win out. Eventually, he’ll make a full recovery though.
Stone hands my speech back. He clears his throat, and I stare into his glassy eyes. I suck my lip into my mouth. “Is it good?”
He nods. “Yeah. It’s really good, Dakota.” He clears his throat again.
The injury on the back of his head healed in no time. He really did just hit it on a rock and knocked himself out cold, which is probably good so he wasn’t standing when the bullets started flying. None of us were.
“What is it?” Lucas asks his friend, worry creasing his brows.
“Nothing,” he tells him, avoiding our gazes.
“Aww,” I move over to Stone, straddling his lap. His gray-blue eyes focus on me, and I melt. “It’s really good?”