by Nicole Helm
His brother who’d actually fought the Sons. On multiple levels. And won. Beat Ace. Beat those who would have hurt Cody and his daughter.
Cody. His baby brother.
“Tucker?”
“Sorry. I’m just trying to figure out how that would work. We’d have to get to a place that has cell service, and we don’t know for sure that North Star doesn’t have ways of tracking your phone, too.”
“Maybe we should head back to the ranch. Surely North Star doesn’t think we’ll go back. They’ll think we’re on the run. We go back. Get word to someone without phones, and have Cody meet us somewhere? We could hide on the ranch. That’s smart, don’t you think?”
Tucker had to pause and work very hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Yeah, smart.”
“Unless you have a better plan?”
“No, Rachel. I don’t.” How could he?
He continued to clean up the campsite, leaving Rachel standing there with her cane. She ran her fingers over her horse’s mane.
She made quite a picture there, dark hand moving through the cream-colored mane of the horse. Her hair was a mess, but it haloed her face. The sun was rising behind her, making the rolling hills sparkle like some kind of fairyland. Her, the reigning queen of it all.
She made a face. “I can tell you’re staring at me.”
“Maybe I’m staring at the scenery.”
“Maybe. But I don’t think you are. Why are you staring at me, Tuck?”
“Maybe I think you’re pretty, Rach.” Which wasn’t what he should have said, even if he meant it. Even if her looking pretty was something akin to a punch in the gut. There wasn’t room for this—not just because of the current situation—but because of the always situation.
“You could kiss me again,” she said, very seriously.
She had no idea what it cost him to sound unaffected. “I could, but I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t imagine what Duke would say if I happened to mention it took us so long to help him because I was busy making out with his daughter after spending the night in a tent together.”
“After keeping me from being taken by this North Star Group, who are supposedly good guys but condone kidnapping.” She huffed out a breath. “I don’t understand why you joined them in the first place. Why you worked for people who made you lie.”
“Sometimes lies aren’t the worst thing in the world.”
“I suppose not, but you’re not comfortable with them. The weight of that guilt weighs a little heavier on you.”
She was right, somehow always seeing right through him. Which meant it seemed honesty was the only option—especially if it kept him from talking about kissing.
“I’ve been working with them because... I thought I could do something. My father never thought much of me. Not as a threat or as a successor, and mostly I’ve been grateful for that. But I thought I could do something, like Cody and Jamison did. Like Gage and Brady did. Hell, even Dev stood up to him.” He scowled. It hadn’t ended well for Dev at all, but he’d tried. “I’ve done nothing. I thought I could be a piece of what brought my father down, so I did what North Star asked even though it hurt.”
She dropped her hand from the horse, used her probing cane to move forward until she was close to him. Too close. “Until they wanted to take me.” She looked up at him, her eyes dark except where they were damaged.
To think it had been a man not a mountain lion made it all worse somehow. The end result was the same, but someone had done that to her on purpose. When she’d only been three. All because her father had done the right thing decades ago.
“You didn’t deserve to be dragged into this.”
“No. I’m not sure you did, either.” She reached out, resting her hand on his arm.
He wanted to touch her hair, her face. He wanted to somehow take those scars away from her, which was a stupid want. This was the life they had. He could only make the right decisions now.
Which meant he had to keep his hands off her. “The Sons connect to me. They connect to this. Don’t they always?”
“Only if you let them.” She moved onto her toes, leaned into him. She brushed her lips across his jaw, though he imagined she’d been going for his cheek or mouth. Still, it rippled through him. No matter how he told himself to block it away.
“Dev’d probably be a better option for all this,” he said, voice tight. She’d be good for Dev. All light and hope to his dark and hopeless.
She wrinkled her nose and fell back onto her flat feet. “Dev’s even older than you. And so grouchy. Dev is better suited for a life of inherent bachelorhood. Grandma Pauline told me once all her uncles were bachelors, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the lot of you ended up just like them.”
“Did she now. Well, four out of six proved her wrong, didn’t they?”
“You won’t be a perennial bachelor, Tucker. You’re too sweet.”
“Gee. Thanks.”
“You think that’s some kind of slight, but it’s a compliment. It’s a miracle, actually. The way you were brought up. To have any sweet. I think that’s pretty amazing.”
She almost made him believe it.
“We should get back. Time isn’t on our side. The North Star Group has a lot of skills, technology and reach. We can only avoid them for so long, even with Shay’s help.”
“All right, but you’re not getting out of this so easy.”
No, he didn’t think he was.
Chapter Fourteen
The ride back to the ranch was quiet. Not tense, exactly. There was a certain comfort to just riding Buttercup, Tucker’s strong body behind her. A companionable silence as they both thought through what was next.
She had to believe Cody would know enough about North Star to figure out where they’d be keeping her father or what they’d be doing with him. She had to believe he’d give them the location, Tucker would find Dad, and they’d get him away.
Then what?
Well, the key. Dad would know what the key opened and maybe it would...end everything.
Of course, she thought if it would end everything Dad would have handed it over to North Star, told them about the key and the lock. But maybe he just didn’t trust them. Maybe he could only trust her.
Rachel wished she had any idea what the key was for. There was nothing to unlock in her dream. There was only darkness and fear. Pain and relief all mixed into one powerful, messy, emotional experience.
Tucker zigzagged through rolling hills. “I’m going to head up along the north pasture, come down to the stables that way. Maybe the route will remind you of something.”
“I can’t see, Tucker.”
“I know, Rachel,” he said with an endless patience that dug at her. “But I’ll tell you where we are, what I see. It can’t hurt to try to reenact the moment. And if it doesn’t jog your memory, all we’ve done is add a little time I would have probably added anyway to make sure we aren’t being followed.”
She didn’t say anything to that. Going through the dream once already had left her emotionally drained. Then there was the fact Tucker had refused to kiss her.
Though she wasn’t convinced it was because he didn’t want to. She figured there was something more about honor or loving her dad or something twisted up. Because he watched her. She couldn’t see and she could tell he looked at her in ways he hadn’t before.
She could feel the tension in him when she’d touched him. That quick little sigh of breath he’d tried to hide when she’d tried to kiss his mouth and ended up just touching her lips to his jaw.
Maybe she’d missed, but that had been nice, too. The rough whiskers against her lips. There had been an exciting friction in that.
Tucker Wyatt and exciting friction. She might have laughed at the thought of th
ose two things going together, but it just seemed...right, when it never had before.
“We’re on the hill outside the north pasture gate. I can see the top of the stable. From here I can see the light. If it was dark and the light was on, it’d be visible this whole stretch.”
Even though she didn’t want to, she brought to mind her dream. The light. “Where’s the highway in relation to where we are?”
“We’re facing south. The highway is due east.”
“And how far would you be able to see the light in that direction?”
He clicked to the horse, and they moved. “Let’s see. If you were headed for the highway, but looking back toward the house or stables...” He trailed off and the horse moved in a gently swaying motion beneath them. “Most of the way. The main gate is just coming into view and I can see the very top of it. Which means if the light was on, I’d be able to see it clearer.”
The main gate led to a gravel road, which led to the highway, but it all made sense. The light had gotten smaller as the man had taken her. Like it was slowly being enveloped—or in this case, hidden by distance, direction and hills.
“I think that’s where he was taking me.”
“On foot, right? So, probably heading for a vehicle. Then the dog saves you.”
Rachel brought a hand up to her scars. Her mother had never let her feel much self-pity over the loss of sight, over the scars. Rachel supposed her age helped with that. She didn’t remember all that much before, so it wasn’t a comparison or ruminating over what she’d lost.
But the dog saving her felt like too strong a word. She hadn’t been saved fully. She’d lost something that night.
“Tuck...” She swallowed at the sudden emotion clogging her throat. “Why do you think he did it? Lied to me. To my mom. Made us think something had happened when it hadn’t. I know he had to keep his former life a secret, but... I love him, I do. Nothing changes that, but I’m having a really hard time not being mad at him for warping my nightmares to keep this secret.”
“Can you imagine how he feels? He did something right. One right thing. He did his job, and he had to leave his entire life. Then he starts a new one and this right thing he did not only haunts him, it hurts and permanently injures his daughter. I lied to you, Rach. Because I thought it would protect you. You and Sarah and...everyone. I can’t imagine his lies were any different.”
“But they are. He made me think something completely different happened than actually did. It wasn’t just a lie of omission or hiding something. He warped something I actually experienced.”
“What’s worse? Believing a random act of Mother Nature hurt you, or that your father’s past was out there, just waiting? I know what that’s like. To know at any point your past could pop up and ruin your life. I mean, Grandma Pauline gave us a good life, a good childhood once we got out of the Sons. But we always knew Ace could pop up—hurt us, hurt her. We always knew Jamison sacrificed eighteen years to get us out of there. It’s a hard, heavy weight.”
Rachel didn’t know what to say to that. She certainly couldn’t argue with it, and as much as it hurt that her father had lied to her in such a devious way, she understood that Tucker thought Duke had given her a gift. Maybe he had. What would life have been like if she’d always been afraid?
Tucker had come through it okay, but she was realizing he had deeper scars than he ever let on.
Tucker’s body went suddenly tense, not just behind her but his arms holding the reins around her. Everything in him was iron and she was encompassed in all that strength. “We’re going to get off the horse.”
“What? Why? What’s happened?”
“There’s a man watching us.” He’d slowed down Buttercup, but they were still moving. “We have to do this quickly. I’m going to swing you off with me. I’ll point you in the right direction. Then you run for the stables. I’ll send Buttercup off as a distraction, and I’ll run for him. Three different directions, and he’ll either focus on the horse or me.”
“Is it North Star?”
Tucker was quiet for a long moment. “I want you to run to the stables. Hide in there. That’s it.”
“But—”
“I need you to do it, Rach. If I need help, I’ll yell, okay?”
He wouldn’t. She knew he wouldn’t. But he couldn’t protect himself, or her, if she didn’t listen to him. He’d try to play the hero even more than he already was.
If he wasn’t answering her question about North Star, well, that was worse. So, she’d run. If she made it to the stables, she could make it to the house. She could call for help. She didn’t have her cane, but once she got to the stables she’d know where she was. She’d be able to move around the ranch without it.
As long as she didn’t fall on her run to the stables.
“On my count. One, two, three.” She let him swing her off the horse, and he helped her land a lot more gracefully than she might have alone. He turned her by the shoulders in the right direction.
Then, she ran.
* * *
TUCKER POINTED RACHEL in the right direction, gave Buttercup’s reins a flick, then ran himself. There was no cover until he got a lot closer, so he couldn’t pretend like he was doing anything but going after the man behind the fence.
Who had a gun. If it was North Star, he wouldn’t shoot.
If it wasn’t...well...
The sound of the gunshot had him hitting the ground. When nothing hit him, he took a chance to look toward Rachel. She was still running, as was Buttercup, so no one had been struck.
Tucker got back to his feet, went back to running toward the man, but this time in a zigzag pattern. If he could get to the copse of trees that followed the creek, he could use some cover to get closer.
Another gunshot. Tucker didn’t dive for the ground this time. Based on the angle of the gun, he was almost certain the man was shooting at him, not the horse or Rachel. He didn’t have time to pause and look, though. He had to keep going.
He reached the cluster of trees and pulled his gun out of its holster. Clicking the safety off, he gave himself a moment to hide behind a tree and steady his breathing. His chest burned with effort, his heart pounded with fear and adrenaline.
The creek was nearly dry, but the trees were thick and old. When the third gunshot went off, it hit a tree way too close to Tucker for comfort.
The fence the man had been crouched behind was due east of the tree Tucker was behind. Still, moving enough to see and shoot would put him at risk.
It was only a gut feeling, not fact, but Tucker sincerely doubted the man was part of North Star. As much as they might prioritize mission over innocent life, they weren’t the type to shoot first and ask questions later.
That was more Sons territory. But what would they be doing just lurking around waiting for Tucker and Rachel to appear? How would they know they’d disappeared in the first place?
Unless it was coincidence.
Tucker couldn’t mull it over much longer. He had to act so whoever the gunman was didn’t get it in his head to go after Rachel.
He slid from one tree to another, working the angles to keep as much distance between him and the shooter as possible.
Another shot went off, but it was way more off target than the last one. Tucker got the glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye, quickly changed direction to get behind a tree. The gunman was coming toward him just as Tucker tried to move toward the gunman.
He was somewhat hesitant to shoot someone not knowing where they came from or why they were shooting at him, but when the next bullet hit the tree he was standing behind, he figured it was time to do what needed to be done.
Tucker used the tree as cover, listened for the man’s movements, then when he thought he had a clear idea of where the man was, stuck his arm out to shoot. He didn’t need it to hit, just needed to catch t
he man off guard.
Immediately after the first shot, he peeked out from behind the tree. The shooter had ducked behind a bush, but as he slowly rose again, gun aimed, Tucker managed to get off a shot first.
The man stumbled backward. Tucker immediately charged. He didn’t think he’d hit anything vital, which meant he had to get the gun away from him.
The assailant had lost his gun—a long high-powered looking model—after Tucker had shot him, but he was curling his fingers around the barrel as Tucker approached. He had to lunge to get to it before the man could lift it.
It was narrow timing, but Tucker managed to grab a hold of the handle. They grappled, pulling and jerking like a life-or-death game of tug-of-war. Which gave Tucker the idea to take the dangerous chance of letting the gun go.
Since he’d been pulling hard, the attacker fell backward, the gun winging out of his grasp as Tucker had hoped. Tucker immediately leaped on him.
Even with the gunshot wound, the man fought hard. The bullet must have only glanced his side, even with the amount of blood staining his shirt. Tucker had to fight dirty to win, so he landed the hardest blow he could at the spot with the most blood.
The man howled, grabbing the injured section and rolling away. Tucker managed to pin him, face down, hands pulled behind his back. With pressure on the injured side to keep the man from fighting back, Tucker looked around for something to tie the man’s hands.
Which was when he noticed the man was wearing a utility belt. Tucker went through the pockets, found a phone and tossed it as far into the creek bed as he could. Next he discovered a plastic bottle of some kind of clear liquid wrapped in a cloth—he disposed of that in the same way—and then happened upon the perfect answer to his problems. Zip ties. He quickly got them on the man’s wrists, then had to fight to get another one around the man’s legs.
The man swore and spit and kicked, but there wasn’t much he could do with his arms tied behind his back and his legs bound together. Tucker got to his feet and rolled the man over onto his back.