Brian’s eyes were wide and then he shook his head. “I guess I’m safe then.” Brian looked at him then and cocked his head just a bit to the side. “Do you throw knives or do you play chess?”
“Both,” Porter said with a grin.
“We’ll have to have a game soon. You can learn a lot about a man by how he plays chess.”
Porter smiled at Brian as he began to walk out of the house. “Yes, my father told me the same when he taught me how to play. I look forward to it.”
Porter watched as Brian and Ahmed drove off. He heard the bedroom door open and smelled a whiff of the light and airy perfume Willa favored. “Was that my father?”
“Yes, he came to apologize. He wants to play chess.”
“Oh no.” Willa’s face fell and Porter looked at her in confusion.
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“No. He will obliterate you, humiliate your intelligence, and send you crying from the room. My father is a ruthless chess player and will comment on what type of man and how unworthy you are while playing.”
Porter grinned. “I like a challenge.”
“I have a feeling chess with my father is equivalent to your family dinner,” Willa sighed.
Porter held open the door to the garage and smiled to himself. This was going to be fun.
19
Porter opened the door to the Blossom Café and felt at home. The memories he had eating dinner there with his family, friends, and town were some of his best. The smell of Southern cooking tempted his nose and rumbled his stomach as they took an open table for two near the door and across the way from the Rose Sisters.
“This is so unfair,” Jameson Duke said from where he was sitting nearby with Ariana.
“What is?” Porter asked as Willa turned and waved at Ari.
“I walk in here and the whole place interrogates me. You walk in with Willa and nothing,” Jameson complained.
Miss Lily nodded at the table across from them. “This is what Bridget was talking about. We go too easy on the ladies. Apparently, we’re sexist.”
“That’s not true. I was thoroughly interrogated,” Kenna Ashton called out.
“Me too,” his Aunt Morgan added.
“Maybe we’re going soft in our middling years,” Miss Daisy said to her sisters. Middling, only if they planned to live to be two hundred years old and Porter was pretty sure that was the plan.
“Stella, did we interrogate you?” Miss Violet asked Jace’s wife.
“No, you just placed bets on when we were going to get married,” Stella called out from the table she sat at with Jace, Jackson, and Evie.
“Me neither,” Evie said. “Pam just offered to mow down terrorists for me.”
“Now that I’m older, my insurance rate has gone down. I can afford to hit a few more bad guys again,” Pam told everyone as she rubbed her hands together. Pam handled having an empty nest with vehicular violence, but only with bad people.
“Humph. Maybe we are going soft in our middle years,” Miss Lily said as she frowned.
“Well, we can’t have that,” Miss Daisy said, turning to Willa. Porter threw his salad fork at Jameson and gave him the middle finger, which resulted in the long reach of a broom being slammed down on his head.
“You know better than that, young man,” Miss Lily chided as she thumped the handle of the broom against the floor to emphasize her point.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Porter said. Sorry he was caught, that was. He was so going to get Jameson for this. A baby bet in the café app would make Jameson’s life a nightmare for the next three months.
“I’ll start,” Miss Violet said. “What are your intentions with our Porter?”
Willa had just taken a sip of her iced tea and promptly choked on it. Poppy, the waitress, didn’t seem distressed by her choking. Instead she put her hands on her hips and waited for an answer.
Willa looked around and everyone leaned forward to hear her answer. Deacon smirked and Porter decided he was going to kill him, too.
“Well,” Willa started slowly, looking thoroughly perplexed and embarrassed. “I like him. Is that what you want to know?”
The Rose sisters made little harrumphs and then the interrogation was on.
“How do you plan to handle the long distance?” Miss Violet asked.
“I don’t think distance will be a problem if we can solve the threat against me,” Willa said, and Porter wondered if there was something she wasn’t telling him because she was very careful with her wording.
“What do you think of Porter’s job?” Miss Daisy asked.
“Which job? CIA or horse trainer?” Willa asked just as fast as the question was hurled at her.
Porter had to smile to himself. His girl didn’t fold. She was calm and deliberate under pressure.
“Horse trainer,” Miss Daisy replied just as quickly. Her eyes narrowed and Porter knew she meant business now.
“I love it. A man who treats his animals well is a good man,” Willa said. “Next question?”
Porter watched as rapid-fire questions came from all over the café. They asked about her feelings, her preferences on movies and books, her thoughts on marriage, and then his aunt Morgan raised her hand. “I have a question from a call-in. How do you feel about babies?”
Call-in, yeah right. Porter knew exactly where that question was coming from. His mother.
“They’re adorable,” Willa answered and Porter had to smirk a little. She was the queen of answering every question without actually answering the question.
Aunt Morgan grinned. She owned her own PR firm and knew a good non-answer when she heard one. “You’re a dream client. However, I need to know about your feelings on personally giving birth to a child that shares DNA with both you and Porter, specifically.”
Porter almost spit out his drink. Only it wasn’t his spit that was all over the table. It was the glass right in front of him. The glass had shattered and the liquid ran over his hand.
Porter blinked and then he was moving. Even as people around him yelled “Gun!” Porter leapt over the table, slamming into Willa, and crashing them onto the floor.
Porter kicked out with his booted foot and knocked the table onto its side to provide cover.
“They’ll shoot through it!” Willa cried as she lay on the floor with her hands over her head.
“These tables are like a hundred years old. They’re made of real wood and steel. A bomb couldn’t hurt these tables,” Porter told her. “Stay here.”
“You’re not going out there, are you?” Willa asked, but Porter was already moving. He pulled the gun with the X-ray screen and was on the move.
“Yes! I’ll get my Hummer.” Pam scrambled out the back door along with half the café. The other half were pulling weapons from purses, holsters, or from under the table. Spatulas, brooms, pans, knives, forks, and a soup spoon held by none other than a grinning Uncle Miles.
“I got your back,” Porter heard Jackson say as he tossed the jacket Piper had made at him. Porter threw it on and glanced over his shoulder to see Willa sliding into hers while Abby and Dylan flanked her on each side.
“We got her,” Abby called out. That was all Porter needed to know as Parker joined him and Jackson sliding out the front door.
Porter was hunched over as they ran. Gunshots rang out and pinged into the concrete near his feet as he dove for cover behind a minivan.
“It’s coming from the courthouse,” Jackson said.
“I know where they are,” Porter said after scanning the area with his gun and not finding anyone. He looked to his brother. “In our favorite spot.” According to the Rose sisters, he and Parker had been “little rascals,” they liked to climb and hide and their father had encouraged it. Spy training started early for the Davies twins. Later on, he and Parker became the go-to for sniper shooting from these hard-to-reach vantage points. However, this one wasn’t hard to reach. It was just hard to see.
“Finally,” Jackson said as hi
s eyes took in the family moving into position on both sides of Main Street. A large engine roared to life behind the café. “We’ll find your hiding spot. We could never find y’all.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Parker said, and Porter felt the familiar tug at his lips he got when they had a plan. They’d always been good at coming up with plans and never having to say a word of explanation. “You ready?”
“Ready for what?” Jackson asked.
Porter gave a nod. Parker took off his hat so they’d be hard to tell apart and then the plan was in motion. Porter shoved Jackson onto his back and the twins took off in the opposite directions.
“Not fair!” Jackson shouted.
Porter ran past his truck and grabbed the lasso from the back without slowing down. He didn’t need to look behind him to know Parker was doing his part of the plan.
The gunman was confused. The twins looked enough alike that at a distance he or she couldn’t tell who was who so they had to split their shots. They’d fire a couple at Porter and then a couple at Parker. The farther apart they ran, the more time they each had to make their move.
Porter hit Aiden’s office and when they turned the fire to Parker, Porter sprinted across the street and slammed himself against the side of the courthouse. As the shooter searched for him, he knew his brother was doing the same. The hiding place they had as children was actually the large bronze statue of a horse in front of the courthouse. The horse was rearing up and the rider on it was holding an arm up in victory. It was large enough that if you could get on top of it, you could hide on either side of the rider or under the mane, which, if you had a brother to boost you up, it was easy enough for a child to do it. From there it was a clear shot to the café. Plus, you had lots of exit points to slide down and run away to hide again.
Porter looked around the corner of the courthouse and didn’t see a thing. He used the sight on the gun Sophie had given him and there the assassin was, clear as day. The assassin had his leg hooked around the rider’s leg and was lying up and under the mane. The bronze hid most of the man, but the leg was plain as day.
Porter glanced down the side of the building and saw his brother looking at him. The sound of the engine revving, of tires squealing, and the headlights of the Hummer turning onto Main Street was enough to worry the assassin. He unhooked his foot and it was clear he was going to try to sneak off into the darkness.
Porter held up his hand and then opened and closed his fist. Together, both brothers sprinted from the sides of the courthouse to converge on the man trying to slide off the statue from behind.
“US marshal, freeze!” Parker yelled when the man got both feet on the ground.
The black clad figure turned to look at Parker and didn’t see Porter closing in on him. He finally turned to see Porter and took off. He made his move as Parker fired his weapon, and sprinted toward the street.
Everything happened at once. The town erupted from every direction: Cody and Luke, the deputies, converged from behind with Porter and Parker; Jackson and his team from across the street; Miles from the north side of Main Street and Cy from the south. The man was trapped.
Then he saw the Hummer racing toward the street and jumped.
“Shit,” Porter cursed as he dropped the gun and grabbed his lasso. He raised his arm and sent it spinning above his head. They needed the shooter alive to try to find The Panther.
Pam gunned her military surplus Hummer with the obscenely large grill and Porter had to move now. With a flick of his wrist he had the rope flying right to his target. The circular part of the lasso fell easily over the running man. Porter gave it a sharp tug and it tightened around the assassin’s shoulders. With another big tug, the rope yanked the man backward. Pam missed hitting him by inches.
The Hummer came to a screeching halt as everyone raced to the tied-up assassin. Porter kept the rope tight as he wound it up while walking toward the groaning man.
“I almost had him!” Pam cried as she shot her arms up into the air in frustration. “Look at him. He’s a little fella. I could have sent him flying a good thirty yards.”
Porter had to smother a laugh as Aniyah came up and put her arm around Pam. “It’s a shame. You could have gotten a new personal best. Don’t worry, sugar. I’m sure another assassin will come and you’ll punt him all the way to Paige’s shop.”
Pam frowned but nodded. “Thanks, Aniyah.”
“Anytime, sugar. I have this video that will make you forget all about it. It was real educational for being a special video. What do you know about the Yeti?”
Parker picked up the man and Jackson was there to zip-tie his hands behind his back. Porter pulled the rope tighter and wound it around his captive’s legs to prevent him from running.
Willa came out with Dylan and Abby on either side, both armed to the teeth. Behind her, the Rose sisters stood at the ready with a wooden spoon, a broom, and a spatula.
Porter reached down and ripped off the full head mask.
“Wang Lei,” Dylan said with a dangerous smirk as he pushed the man to sit down on the curb. “What is China’s top assassin doing in Keeneston going after my cousin?”
Wang Lei swallowed hard as Abby squatted down in front of him. “Wang, Wang, Wang,” Abby tsked sadly. “What did I tell you I was going to do if I ever saw you again?”
Abby was talking as if Wang Lei were a child who had stolen too many cookies from the cookie jar, but the menacing look in her eyes told Porter she wasn’t going to give Wang Lei a timeout.
“You would cut off my balls with a spoon and feed them to me.”
The sound of a spoon clattering on the pavement echoed down Main Street as Miles tossed the soup spoon between Abby and Wang Lei.
Abby picked up the spoon and Wang Lei tried to wiggle away, but Porter had a strong hold on him.
Abby tapped the spoon on the curb between Wang Lei’s legs and looked sternly at him. “I’ll let you keep one of your balls if you tell us everything we want to know.”
Wang Lei shook his head, but Porter saw the sweat begin to drip down the side of his face.
Abby shoved the spoon into his groin and every man cringed. Wang Lei howled and then he pissed himself and passed out.
“I think we all know who just won the biggest badass in-law game once and for all. Boom!” Uncle Pierce said as he used his fingers to accentuate the boom. “Suck it with your spoon, Miles.”
“But she did it with my spoon,” Miles countered. “Besides, my son-in-law isn’t even here. It’s not a fair call.”
“Yeah, Nash isn’t here either,” Uncle Cade said. “Biggest badass son- or daughter-in-law is still up for grabs.”
“Are they for real?” Willa asked as she hurried to his side and looked down at the unconscious would-be assassin.
“They are. Ready to run away from us yet?” Porter asked her.
Willa turned to Abby. “Were you really going to feed him his balls?”
Abby shrugged. “I think it would be rather gross, but men’s balls are their biggest weakness so I exploit it.”
Willa smirked suddenly just like Abby had done a moment ago. “Why don’t you pour some fake blood over his crotch and then feed him something that resembles testicles.”
“Suck it, Pierce,” Cy said, flicking off his younger brother. “She’s not even my daughter-in-law yet and she’s diabolical. Mental torture like that can break a man faster than any physical pain.” Porter’s father high-fived Willa, who looked as if she couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “She has my approval and we haven’t even seen what she can do with an ax.”
“So, your dad likes me because I can mentally torture someone and not because of my trust fund, my contacts, or my Ivy League degree?” Willa whispered to Porter.
“Yeah, that about sums it up.”
“Huh,” Willa said as she thought about that. “I think that’s the best and most honest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
“I’ll run back to the off
ice and get some testicles,” Wyatt called out. “I just helped castrate some goats. That should do it.”
“He’s a large animal vet,” Porter explained to Willa who nodded.
“Good to know. That makes things slightly less weird.”
“Willa! What happened?” Tilly cried out as she clung to a man’s arm.
Greer looked annoyed as she joined the town. “Dang, I missed it. As soon as I heard Pam’s tires, I got Tilly to safety. Who is he?”
“Chinese assassin,” Porter told her.
“Why is there a spoon on the ground?” Greer asked.
“Abby was going to cut off his balls with it but he passed out and Willa suggested faking said castration and forcing him to eat goat balls,” Porter said, filling her in. Greer grinned in reaction as the man Tilly clung to crossed his legs.
“I knew I liked you,” Greer said with approval.
“Tilly, what are you doing with Ben?” Parker asked the tiny, sweet, and obviously smitten Tilly. It was clear she was interested in Parker, but Parker was staying mysteriously quiet on his thoughts about her, so she was doing everything she could to make him notice her. Including flirting with the very sexy man next to her, who just happened to be a priest.
“He came over to help protect me. He was former Special Forces,” Tilly said, batting her eyes up at Ben who cleared his throat as if realizing exactly where this was going. “Unlike others, he’s offered to come see me tomorrow night for some one-on-one time.”
“Really?” Parker asked, and Porter saw he was trying not to laugh. “What are you two going to do?”
“I can think of all kinds of things,” Tilly said as Porter began to cringe, realizing where she was going with this conversation.
“Um, Tilly,” Porter said, trying to cut her off to save her the embarrassment he knew was coming.
“No, Porter. Your brother wants to know.” Tilly walked over to Parker and went up on her tippy toes and whispered in his ear. Parker’s expression turned to stone.
“Darlin’, the only thing you’re going to be doing on your knees with Ben is praying,” Parker said with zero emotion. Anger rolled off his twin, but only Porter could tell. Parker was masking his feelings for all around him. Interesting.
Forever Thrown: Forever Bluegrass #16 Page 14