by Wylder Stone
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll be spending a lot more time with you, Becca,” Leslie Madison, Tayler’s partner, said. “If they’ve been watching, they know we’re friends, so it won’t seem out of place. The key here is to never find yourself alone.”
Trista watched her sister nod, so brave, confident, accepting her new role that would bring the last year and handful of months to an end. She was looking forward to ridding her life of Cesar but feared the changes that would come in her relationship with Owen.
“Any questions?” Owen asked. “I need to get Trista out of here before we start to look suspicious and draw unwanted attention.”
“Yeah, I have a question.” Becca said. “I understand Cesar is here because of me, but how did they find me?”
Owen smiled and gave a slight snort. “Social Media.”
“But I don’t have social media accounts,” Becca defended.
“Your town does. It seems the town was quite impressed with the new florist in town. Your evening wine tasting events were plastered on the tourism sites…and a big dance thing you’re organizing?” he questioned.
“The Gala… My wine tastings,” Becca whispered.
“Bear Springs has become pretty tech-savvy and caught up with the times. We found you everywhere,” he finished. “Seems you’ve really made your mark on this place.”
“She sure has,” Tyson said, grabbing her hand.
“Oh, my God! What about the Gala?” Becca’s closest friend in town, Casey Davenport, questioned. “Do we cancel? Will it be safe?”
The room filled with emotional responses to Casey’s question. They had worked so hard, and this year was promising to be their best yet – this was what small towns did. The town relied on the seasonal event to raise funds and donations for underprivileged youth in the area. They provided gifts at Christmas and warm jackets in the winter. It was an important cause to each of them, one that even brought tourists back to enjoy every year.
“Business as usual. We send a huge message if we cancel. Cesar needs to think he has the upper hand, the element of surprise here. We’ll be all over that event. Undercovers will be there as attendees. Some will be placed as workers, and the place will be surrounded. He won’t be able to touch the place. We’ll stop him miles out in any direction,” Owen assured them, already a step ahead.
“Sounds like you brought a small army,” Trent Davenport, one of Becca’s new friends, joked.
“We did. This guy is done,” Owen replied with a smile.
Everyone said their goodbyes, and it was a tearful one for Trista as she kissed her sleeping son goodbye again. They made their way back out the way they came in, picking up the men they had left posted at various points along the way. They disappeared into the woods. With her hand firmly gripping Owen’s belt, Trista put her trust in him and the team, all the way to the other side where they had started.
They stood at the edge of the tree line by the road, hidden just behind the darkness of the forest as headlights came closer. The vehicles that had delivered them an hour before had returned to take them back to the cabin. It had all been so perfectly timed. They drove off into the night, leaving a couple of men behind to hold their position until they got word that Owen and Trista were safely delivered.
Leaving her son again was hard, but at least Trista had hope. If Trista learned anything tonight, it was that Owen and his brothers knew what they were doing. She trusted him before, but now Trista not only believed in him, but she believed this really was almost over, and Cesar was about to be dealt with for good. Prison, she thought, was paradise compared to where he really belonged, but Trista would find peace in that when she needed to.
20
Owen and Trista didn’t leave the cabin again. Men rotated in and out, mostly the Force brothers and Mark Thomas. It was becoming obvious why Mark was Owen most trusted confidant. He seemed to be just as invested in nailing Cesar as the Forces were. He was like family – a brother to them.
The plan had been in motion. Everyone did as they were supposed to. Cesar’s men became more and more obvious among the tourists.
The holiday fundraiser event was in full swing and scheduled to run until Friday in the form or a street festival followed by a dance at the end of the week. There were many booths up and down main street as the townspeople peddled their wares to raise money for their own pocketbooks as well as the community holiday outreach charity that was run by the local police, fire, and emergency medical from the cities first responders. All of the handmade jams, coasters, and wreaths would translate into Christmas gifts for youth sprinkled throughout the mountain who had less than most.
As a tourist town, they always had plenty of interest and a successful event as visitors planned their getaways around this unique, one-of-a-kind affair. The buzz this year went beyond the pickled eggs and fried anything you could think of. The newest element, a formal Gala, as contradictory as it sounded with its small town rustic meets glam charm, was a sold-out event.
Becca was the mastermind behind the new addition, which didn’t surprise Trista in the least. Her sister was a party planner extraordinaire. It seemed she incorporated something good from her old life to help the town and her new family-like community. Trista found comfort in that. She’d lived with the guilt of knowing she was the reason her sister was not only completely uprooted and forced into hiding, but she was also forced to raise her nephew. But Becca had made a nice life for them and didn’t seem to have any regrets. If anything, this was a wonderful change of circumstances and her sister seemed so happy. Trista was relieved.
The week carried on without a sound or sighting from Cesar. Owen and Trista spent their days distracted by the updates coming in and their nights distracted by each other as they make the best of what they were faced with in a true case of hurry up and wait. When the night of the Gala was upon them, Trista struggled to stay focused. According to intel, Cesar’s men had been scoping out the event site. It looked like they were planning to finally make their move. Owen and the team were ready.
The elderly woman Trista had met as part of her sisters new support system, Percy Shayne, was staying back and watching all of the children of those involved, including Mason. It was far from the venue, and not only did the older woman have ample help from her network of mature women but she and the children were heavily guarded by part of Owen’s team. That was the safest house in town. Even if Cesar figured it out, Trista got the impression he would meet his match with that feisty old woman alone.
Trista stayed back at the cabin with James, who was charged with her protection. Owen and his team were joined by the Force brothers and cousins, all ready for battle and bloodshed if it came to that.
With tear-streaked cheeks and painful goodbye, Trista rested her head against Owen’s chest, and whispered, “Please be careful.”
“Always,” he said, holding her close. “We are only going in if we have to. Only if we see him.”
“I know. Just keep them all safe, Owen. Keep you safe and come back to me…please.” Trista’s plea tore his heart in two. Something he’d not been trained to handle. Owen wanted to come back to her and would come back, but not in the way Trista wanted him to. He couldn’t stay, and it pained him to know the end was near for them.
Owen kissed the top of her head before letting her go, then left without looking back.
The Gala was underway and nearly half over when Owen and his remaining men were staged around the event. A team surrounded Tyson’s house as well, should any trouble stir there while everyone was away at the event. Since Becca was now living there with Tyson, it meant Mason was too to those on the outside. It made that house a viable target.
The teams were everywhere, on every possible target, and ready for anything. Ready to move at a moment’s notice.
21
They had been prepared for everything, had a plan for every scenario, except one. The one where Cesar let them think they were a step ahead, with the upper hand when really, h
e had it all along, from the minute they arrived in Bear Springs.
Cesar had something they didn’t, and he was going to use his secret weapon to destroy everyone involved, as any good, hardened, soulless criminal would.
Tyson and Becca had left the Gala early and made their way home for a romantic evening to celebrate the success of Becca’s event and each other. They were so close to living out in the open, without a single threat, and were ready to plan a life together. Tyson, wanted to seal the deal with Becca and had plans of his own.
Despite the warning signs – the couple ignored them. A burned-out porch light. Howling dogs, warning Tyson and Becca from inside, which was completely out of character – ignored. Feeling overly safe, knowing Owen had agents nearby, they didn’t turn around and run. Instead, they were the ones who ran right into a trap.
After an emotional proposal and declarations of love for one another, Becca went rigid in Tyson’s embrace when the devil himself stepped into the dimly lit shadows and threatened to show his maniacal face. Tyson turned, sensing her fear, and guarded her, but it didn’t matter. They were surrounded, and it wasn’t by the Owen’s teams.
“Becca, call Tayler. Tell him they’re here. Phone’s in my front jacket pocket,” he said full of calm. “Then get inside and lock the door. You know what to do next.”
“Tyson?” Her voice was nothing but a quivering whisper as the men closed in and she saw just how many there were.
“It’s okay, honey. Nobody is going to hurt you. Now get inside.” Tyson said.
Clapping slowly as if to congratulate them, a man stepped closer into the light, “That was beautiful. I’ll have to send you a bottle of my favorite champagne. What a wonderful proposal…you hick.”
An unmistakable thick, seething accent laced with disgust and anger, lashed out at Becca, “You fucking bitch, did you think I would not find you?”
She froze at the familiar voice just as he stepped into the light…Cesar Perez.
“Apparently, you don’t know who you are dealing with, asshole. You have no business here, so leave. And you’ll watch how you speak to the lady,” Tyson fired back.
Cesar laughed at Tyson’s chivalrous attempt, drawing chuckles from all around, revealing there were still several people hidden by darkness.
“Do you hear this fucking guy? I’m sorry, where are my manners? I heard your little pathetic, weak, spineless plea for a wife. I am embarrassed for you. Respectfully, of course.” If looks could kill, they would both be dead. This man was full of hate and pure evil.
Becca reached in Tyson’s coat pocket ever so slowly, and hit the button for Tayler. Then she prayed that he would answer and get here in time. Tyson slowly pushed her back, nudging her up the stairs so Becca could get inside to safety.
“Where is she, Lizzy? Where is that bitch sister of yours, and where is my son?” Cesar spit.
“My name is Becca.” Unsure why that was the only response that came to mind, she continued trying to stall.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…where is she?” he screamed. The animals were scratching at the door and window, trying to get out. Tyson rescued strays and they were all inside, loyal to a fault as they attempted to get outside and protect Tyson and Becca. The ruckus got louder and louder, further angering Cesar.
“Shut those fucking animals up!” he yelled, grabbing his head, gun in hand, as if the sound of them hurt.
A cluster of gunshots rang out, hitting the front of the house. Tyson threw himself over Becca, protecting her from the attack. A lone yelp could be heard from inside, then absolute silence.
Tayler thought it odd that Tyson’s name was scrolling across his screen. He had just spoken to him a handful of minutes before. He looked around the space and didn’t see Tyson or Becca amongst the small, remaining crowd at the Gala. Anxiety filled him as intuition told him something was wrong. He signaled for quiet and the group of friends pulled in tighter while he answered the call, putting it on speakerphone.
“Tayler Brock” he answered.
The line was briefly vacant of sound until a gunshot could be heard in the background.
“Leslie, get Owen on the line!” he ordered his colleague.
“Tyson? Becca? Hello?” His questions went without reply.
They swiftly moved to the exit, finding their way to the vehicles, splitting up between Tayler’s and Trent’s trucks.
“Owen is on the way. He got confirmation from the men posted at Percy’s house. Everyone is safe, and they are on alert. Nothing from Tyson’s though. They aren’t responding,” Leslie alerted.
“Shit! Let’s go. It’s going down at Ty’s house!” Tayler replied. “Dialing you into the call. Leslie, ride with Trent so you guys hear what we hear. Force, call it in.” he said to one of the Force cousins. “We need backup and all hands on deck.”
He paused for a minute, realizing what his next statement meant. “We don’t know what we are walking in on.”
What were they walking in on? Were their friends okay, and was there anyone hurt? Where were Owen’s people? They heard gunshots – that’s all the information they had.
22
Tyson, he pushed Becca up the stairs and lunged at Cesar to give her the time to get inside. They had already shot a dog and done God knew what to the team Owen had staged there. It was only a matter of time before Cesar took a shot at Tyson and Becca. He knew that Cesar wanted his son and Becca was his only lead so she protected somewhat – but what would he do to get the information he wanted from her?
Before Becca could get to the door, a large man stepped within view behind Tyson. Becca screamed his name in warning. It was the last thing Tyson heard. When he turned to see Becca over his shoulder, a slicing, sharp pain stretched across his forehead, and everything went dark.
“Tyson! Tyson!” Becca screamed, crawling toward him, laying his bloodied head in her lap. “Wake up! Oh, my God, please wake up!” Becca sat back on her knees and looked at her hands. They were covered in blood, and it was quickly staining her dress. The blood was abundant, and it wasn’t stopping.
Shrieking laughter pulled her from her thoughts. Becca watched Satan himself double over in amusement as if the events of late were nothing more than a sick joke. Evil and hatred spewed from his face, causing her stomach to roil in disgust. Becca gently laid Tyson’s head on the grass and ran for the front door.
She needed the gun. It was kept in the cabinet drawer, right inside. It was there for moments just like this. She’d get to it then Becca would shoot the son of a bitch herself. She made it to the top step before her feet were pulled out from under her. She hit the deck, face-first, and the wind was knocked out of her. Gasping for air, Becca tried to scream, remembering the cell phone she dropped near the steps, hoping someone was on the other end, listening, and help was on the way.
God, she hoped Tayler had answered. Becca kicked and fought, pleased with the heel she landed on Cesar’s face. One of his men grabbed her by her hair and yanked her to her feet, causing her to scream in pain. Lip bleeding, face aching, Becca spit right in Perez’s face.
“You smug son of a bitch! Do you ever do your own dirty work?” Becca spat, referring to the hired muscle holding her back.
Cesar laid the back of his hand across her cheek and slowly dragged it down her face, not stopping as he reached her chin. He continued his disgusting descent until his hand reached her breast, and he gripped her through her dress.
“Ahh, I see why he is so fond of you. Beautiful and feisty,” Cesar said while massaging her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Becca turned her face away, unable to look at the vile man as he assaulted her like he did.
“I think I’ll have my way with you before I kill you. See which sister is better.”
She turned and spat in his face again at his remark. Anger, like she hadn’t seen, consumed him while he wiped the saliva and blood from his face with an expensive silk handkerchief from his suit pocket. Cesar carefully folded it and returned it to its place in th
e front pocket of his suit jacket before brushing his hands down the front to straighten it. Like he was straightening his attire, readying for the second act, and cared far too much how he looked. He paused for a moment, biting the bottom corner of his lip when that smug smile returned right before he lifted a fist and planted it on Becca’s face, knocking her out cold.
“Grab the girl. She goes with us,” Cesar spewed while shaking out the pain in his hand and he walked back into the darkness from which he came.
23
When the line remained silent, with the exception of a few howls and barks in the distance, Tayler feared the worst. They all did. Cesar would have a good ten plus minutes on them in any direction. He had Becca, but where was Tyson? What had they done to him?
They heard his intentions with Becca, and it made their skin crawl. They would find Tyson and Becca and bring Cesar to justice, once and for all, at any cost. This ended tonight.
As their vehicles approached the property, Tyson’s body could be seen lying before the steps from the road. Each of the friends mumbled something under their breaths that sounded of prayer. The fear they carried all the way there had been realized as they raced to their seemingly lifeless friend’s side.
Jumping into action, Lyla Force, an EMT, went to work using the large first-aid kit Trent kept in his truck. Casey and Ember, both trained nurses, stepped in to help and went to work on their friend. Leslie, with her weapon drawn, stayed with Tyson and the ladies as protection – guarding them should Perez or his men still be on-site.
Trent and Tayler slowly made their way around the perimeter of the house in hopes of finding Becca, and even Perez. There wasn’t time to wait for Owen, or his team. Perez was already in the wind with a healthy enough headstart to get lost in their wooded surroundings, never to be found.