Badlands Beware

by Nicole Helm

  “You don’t have to worry about hurting me.”

  “Because I’m that weak?” she demanded.

  “No, because I’m a professional at dodging a punch, Rach. I’ve been a cop for almost nine years. I’ve been learning to not get hit my whole life.” He hadn’t really meant to say that last part, or wouldn’t have if he’d known she’d get that...sympathetic look on her face.

  Nothing to be sympathetic about. He’d survived eight years of Ace Wyatt and the Sons of the Badlands. All his brothers, except Cody, had survived more time than him. Jamison hadn’t gotten out until eighteen, after working hard to get Cody out before his seventh birthday. Tucker had followed not much later when he’d been eight. Gage and Brady had been eleven, and Dev twelve.

  Tucker had gotten off easy, like he usually did.

  She opened her mouth to say something—likely something he didn’t want to hear, so he spoke first. “Come on then. If I’m coming at you, land a punch.”

  She got in the stance he’d taught her, made a good fist. As he moved forward, she swung out. He easily pivoted so she didn’t land it.

  “That’s good.”

  “I didn’t hit you!”

  Tucker laughed. “Don’t sound so disappointed.” He took her still-clenched hand by the wrist and held it up. “This is your dominant hand, so you want it to do the big work.” He took her other hand and brought it up. “But this one needs to do the work, too. Make a fist.”

  He walked her through using both hands to punch. Using her arms to block. He let her land a few punches. She wasn’t going to ward off any attackers with her fists—she’d have better luck kicking a vulnerable area or grabbing something to use as a weapon. Still, if it made her feel as though she was more prepared, that was what mattered.

  It wasn’t so bad all in all. It felt good to teach her something useful. A little uncomfortable teaching her to break holds by holding on to her against her will—but an important skill nonetheless.

  Until he had the bright idea to teach her how to get away from someone who grabbed her from behind. Which necessitated...grabbing her from behind.

  They went through the drill a few times. Slow, with pointers, and he tried very hard not to think about anything related to his body. He told her how to position her hands, how to maneuver her body. All while pretending his was made of...ice. Or plastic. Whatever kind of material that was not moved by a woman’s body.

  She was...lithe. Graceful.

  Hot.

  That was a really, really unacceptable thought when it came to Duke’s daughter. Duke’s daughter who’s safety he was being entrusted with.

  The strangest part was he’d scuffled with Sarah just this morning, and it hadn’t felt any different than wrestling with his brothers. Familial. Funny.

  But this was none of those things and he hadn’t the slightest idea why.

  “Do that again.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Do it again,” she insisted. “Come at me from behind.”

  He allowed himself to curse to his heart’s content silently in his head. Rachel turned her back to him.

  He just needed to enact a quick, meaningless grab around the waist.

  The problem was he didn’t like putting himself in the mind-set of an attacker. And he didn’t like staying in his own mind-set, which was way too aware of how the exercise clothes she wore molded to every slender curve.

  But who else could he be?

  He gritted his teeth and tried to think about times tables as he wrapped his arm around her waist. She lifted her right hand to keep it from being held down by his grab, but he used his free hand to ensnare her arm.

  She mimicked a kick to the insole and twisted in his grasp. He gave a little, as if stepping away from her kick. It gave her room, but kept his arm slightly around her, palm pressed to her stomach.

  He wanted to tell her to pull her arm down in the way he’d shown her earlier, but he was afraid his voice wouldn’t come out even. Or that he could manage to unclamp his jaw.

  But she paused there, in this awkward position. His hand was on her abdomen, the fingers of his other hand curled around her wrist. He could feel the rise and fall of her breathing because her back was against him, her butt nestled way too close to a part of him he could not think about right now.

  She tilted her head, and though he knew she couldn’t see out of one eye and only general shapes out of the other, it felt as though she were studying him.

  And then there was her mouth. Full and tempting. She wasn’t trying to get out of his grasp, and she definitely wasn’t putting any distance between their bodies.

  She smelled like a meadow, and everything they were doing faded away. There were two aches inside of him—one he fully understood, and one that didn’t make any sense. They both grew, expanded until there was only his heartbeat and the exhale of her breath across his cheek.

  The sound of people arguing interrupted the buzzing in his head. He dropped her abruptly, moving away clumsily.

  “Tucker...”

  He didn’t like the soft way she spoke, or the way her breath shuddered in and out, or that look in her eye, which he could not in any circumstances think about or consider.

  “Hey, there’s Sarah and Dev. We’ve been at this a while, huh? How about a break? I’m starved, you know?”

  Sweet hell he was babbling. He cleared his throat. He was a grown man. A grown man with an inappropriate attraction, but that just meant he knew what to do with it. Scurrying away and babbling were not it. Getting himself together and handling it was what he needed to do. Would do. Absolutely. Obviously.

  The dogs raced over first, so Tucker focused on them, squatting to scratch them both behind their ears. He spoke to them in soothing tones and tried his damnedest to get that ache coursing around inside of him to dissipate.

  “How goes the self-defense?” Sarah asked.

  “Great,” Tucker said, far too loudly. “Going to take a break now.”

  “Yeah, us, too.”

  When Tucker looked up, Dev was frowning at him, but Tucker reminded himself that his brother’s resting face was frowning disapproval. That was all.

  Besides, he had enough frowning disapproval for himself. He didn’t need anyone else’s.

  Chapter Eight

  Rachel went through the rest of the day with an odd...buzz along her skin. Like the precursor to getting poison ivy. It was uncomfortable. Not quite so painful as a rash, but uncomfortable. Definitely.

  She knew it was all Tucker’s fault. Though she couldn’t figure out why. Had he read her mind? He had been horrified that she’d kind of enjoyed him manhandling her. Or, had he enjoyed manhandling her and was horrified?

  Either way, there was some horror. And then locking it all away and acting his usual genial self.

  Except that he avoided her at all costs.

  Which was probably for the best. Or was it? She got ready for bed, edgy and worked up. There was just too much going on. Her father was missing. She was having recurring nightmares. She was apparently attracted to a man she’d always looked at as family. Sort of. And worse than being attracted to him was the wondering if he was attracted to her right back. Or oblivious.

  She groaned and flopped onto her bed. She needed to talk to someone. With most problems, she confided in Sarah or Cecilia. Sarah would be no help with this one, and Cecilia... She’d be too blunt. Too...forthright.

  Rachel needed someone with a softer touch. So she called Felicity.

  “Hey, Rach. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Nothing new to report on our end.”

  Felicity sighed. “I really hate all this waiting. Gage keeps fluttering around me, trying to distract me from my stress, but all he is doing is stressing me out even more.”

  Rachel smiled. That was sweet. And also the perfect segue. �
��How did you end up involved with Gage?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “Not a mean one. I just... I wondered.” Rachel rolled her eyes at herself. She sounded like an idiot. A transparent one. But at least of all her sisters, Felicity would never call her on it.

  “Is this about Tucker?”

  Rachel forced out a laugh. She was afraid it sounded more like a deranged array of squeaks. “What? No.”

  “You’re a terrible liar. And even if you weren’t, this is completely transparent.”

  Rachel pouted in spite of herself. “Of course it is. But you weren’t supposed to call me out on it!”

  Felicity laughed. “Sorry. Normally I wouldn’t, but you’re strung tight. I know Dad’s whole disappearing act is scary, but you’re usually calm in the midst of a crisis.”

  “I’m calm.” Aside from the dreams. Aside from Tucker touching her. “Tucker believes Dad left of his own accord. Whatever prompted it, he doesn’t think he’s in any immediate danger and I have to believe that.”

  “I do, too. And so does Gage for that matter.” Felicity paused. “So...why are you wound up?”

  Rachel could blame it on the dreams. Some of it was the dreams, and the possibility of Dad being...far more complicated than she wanted him to be. But she didn’t want to lay either of those things at Felicity’s feet, where she’d worry needlessly.

  “I think there was a moment. With Tucker. When he was teaching me some self-defense moves.”

  “Define moment.”

  “I don’t know. Like...like...an awareness of each other. As a man and a woman. Not...family friends. As people who...”

  “Might want to have sex?”

  Rachel squeaked, her face getting hot, even though she was alone in her room and no one but her sister had heard that word. “Oh my God, Felicity.”

  “Sorry. It’s just that’s what moments usually lead to with the Wyatt boys.”

  “Why? I don’t get it. I don’t get why we’re falling like dominoes for that lot of...”

  “Really good guys who also happen to be hot and smart and caring? Who want to protect you, not because they think you’re weak or need protecting, but because it’s just who they are. On a cellular level.”

  Rachel expelled a breath. “I don’t... I’m twenty-two.”

  “Is that commentary on the age difference or on being too young to have a serious relationship?”

  “Neither. Both. I don’t know! Why are we talking about relationships? It was like a moment of...lust. Fleeting lust. Very fleeting.”

  “Let me tell you this, Rach, lust over a Wyatt is never fleeting. I wasn’t exactly planning on doing this whole baby thing yet. But then Gage came along and...boom, lust. And love.”

  Love. That was terrifying. “Just because you four did it, doesn’t mean I will.”

  “Of course it doesn’t. You’re your own person, and so is Tucker. I’m just trying to say it’s normal to be attracted, and to be confused by it since you haven’t always had those feelings. Danger and worry has a way of...stripping away our normal walls. When it does that, we can see someone as they actually are instead of how we’ve always perceived them to be.”

  “I don’t have any walls.”

  Felicity was quiet for a few seconds. “Okay.” She did not sound like she agreed. “But Tucker does. Even knowing how awful that childhood before Pauline must have been, I don’t think I fully understood it until I saw Gage in that cave with Ace. Knowing Ace would have killed him and felt...justified. It isn’t just viciousness and abuse they were raised with, it was...well, insanity.”

  Felicity paused, and Rachel shuddered. She hated to think about what Gage would have gone through. As a child and as a man. Tucker seemed so...not as afflicted as the others. She knew the older ones had spent longer being at the mercy of Ace Wyatt, but Tucker’s eight years were nothing to ignore.

  “The point is, being scared churns things up,” Felicity continued. “That’s okay. It doesn’t mean you’re weird. It doesn’t mean you’re not worried about Dad. It just means you’re human. And Tucker is hot.”

  That shocked a laugh out of her. “Aren’t you supposed to only have eyes for Gage?”

  “Heart and soul for Gage. Eyes for anyone else. Things will be clearer when this is over, and Tucker and the rest of them are working hard to figure out what’s going on so Dad can come home.”

  Rachel wanted to believe her. More than belief, though, she heard something in her sister’s voice she wasn’t sure she fully ever had before. Felicity had grown up nervous and shy, and she’d slowly come into her own the past few years. But Gage and this pregnancy had really given her an even bigger strength that she’d been afraid to believe in growing up. “You sound happy, Felicity.”

  “I am. And I’m mad at Dad that he’s adding worry to my happy, but that’s life. Happy and worry and even attraction can all pile up on each other in the same moment. I’m learning to accept that. I think the the thing is...we were raised right. We’ve got good instincts. Don’t question your instincts.”

  Rachel let that settle through her. Wasn’t that what she’d been doing? Or maybe she’d been questioning her worth or usefulness but it all kind of added up to the same thing. “Thanks, Felicity. This helped.”

  “I’m glad. Try to get some rest, Rach.”

  “You and baby, too.”

  They said their goodbyes and Rachel climbed into bed. She didn’t feel any more clear on the whole Tucker thing, but she felt...more settled.

  Don’t question your instincts.

  She’d be thinking about that a lot over the next few days.

  She fell asleep, hopeful for another restful, uninterrupted night. But in the shadows of night came the noise. The rustle. The unearthly glow of cat eyes.

  Were they cat eyes? They weren’t human but...

  Secrets always hurt the innocent. Curtis Washington is going to learn that the hard way.

  He had her. He was holding her too tight and she couldn’t wiggle away. The eyes weren’t his, but they followed. Animal.

  The human who had her was someone entirely different. She could hear the hum and scuttle of night life. Could see the moon shining bright from above. But she couldn’t see the shadow who carried her too quickly and too easily away from everything she loved.

  She squirmed and tried to scream, but she was squeezed too tight—both by the man’s grip and her own fear.

  When he stopped, it was worse. He wasn’t squeezing so tight, but she couldn’t breathe at all as he lifted the thing he always lifted, glinting silver in the moonlight. Some kind of...pronged knife. Slashing down at her face.

  Run. Wake up.

  She always did. Until now.

  This time she felt the searing pain of the knife. But a growl, and a thud kept the knife from scoring too deep. It was painful. So painful she thought she might die. She was bleeding and her eyes felt like they were on fire, but the man didn’t have her anymore.

  * * *

  TUCKER TOOK THE stairs two at a time, the safety already off on his gun. Rachel’s blood-curdling scream had woken him from a fitful sleep, and he’d immediately jumped out of bed and run upstairs.

  “Tucker.” Sarah stood in the hall in her pajamas, holding a baseball bat.

  “Go back to your room,” Tucker hissed at her. The screaming had stopped. He inched toward Rachel’s room, keeping his footsteps light. He controlled his breathing, pushed all the fear away and focused on the task at hand.

  Save her. Now.

  He could bust the door open, which was his first instinct. But he didn’t know who was behind it, and if he could go for stealthy, he had to. Carefully, he reached out and placed his hand on the door. He willed the slight tremor away with sheer force.

  He couldn’t afford to be emotional right now. He had a mission. Slowly, ca
refully, he turned the knob and eased the door open inch by inch.

  The room was bathed in light. Rachel sat in the middle of her bed, head in her hands, but Tucker didn’t see anyone else.

  He immediately swept the room. “Where is he?”

  “Tucker.” She wrapped the blanket around herself. “What are you doing?”

  “I... You screamed.” He slowly lowered the gun, belatedly realizing she wasn’t in trouble at all. All the fear drained out of him until his knees nearly buckled. “Hell, Rach. That scream could have woken the dead.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m...” She inhaled shakily and he finally realized she’d been crying. Tears tracked down her cheeks even as she spoke calmly. “I had a bad dream, that’s all. I didn’t mean to scare you. I...” She shook her head. “Did Sarah wake up?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  She picked her phone up off the nightstand. “Text Sarah. I’m okay. Bad dream.” She dropped her phone, and Sarah burst into the room a few seconds later.

  “Oh my God. Rach. How awful. What do you need?”

  “Noth—” She seemed to think better of it. “I think I could use a drink.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Sarah scurried away.

  Tucker studied Rachel. She was shaking, and though she made no noise, fresh tears leaked out of her eyes.

  “I’m sorry to have woken you up. I—”

  “Stop apologizing,” he said, and he knew his voice was too harsh when she winced. But he felt...ripped open. That scream and all the most terrible scenarios that had gone through his mind even as he’d shoved them away to do what needed to be done had taken years off his life.

  He let out his own shaky breath. She was okay. Well, not okay. She was crying. Upset. He moved for her bed. “Are they all like this?”

  She shook her head, pulling the blanket up to her chin. “No. Usually I wake up before...” She took a steadying breath and he just couldn’t take the fear still in her eyes, in her voice. He sat on the very edge of the bed, putting his hand on her shoulder.