Claiming the Enemy: Dustin: Porter Brothers Trilogy, #3

by Jamie Begley

  “My brothers have the same secret.”

  Dustin knew Logan had no idea that he and his brothers grew pot. However, Logan spilled the family secret before he could stop him.

  “They can heal people like Uncle Greer can?” Logan dropped the wood to his lap.

  “Your uncle Greer can heal people?”

  “Logan, she wasn’t talking about that—”

  “I’m talking to Logan.” She shut him down like a lead weight.

  “Yes. Can Asher and Holt?”

  “No. They can’t do that,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

  “Rachel can, too, just not as good as Uncle Greer. Do they hear the death bells like Uncle Tate?”

  “No, they can’t do that either,” she said, her brows now rising to her hairline.

  “Oh … Then are they like Dad? They dream someone is going to die?”

  Shocked, Jessie looked at Dustin. Her myriad of expressions would have had him chuckling if Logan hadn’t been revealing his family’s secrets. Luckily for them, most of the town considered the rumors of their abilities as hogwash. Even Rachel, who had earned a reputation as a healer, wasn’t taken seriously.

  “Is that true?”

  Her question stunned him. Usually, people would laugh or be unable to hide their disbelief. Jessie didn’t do either.

  He tried to laugh it off. “It’s as true as the little green men in Kentucky.”

  “I believe in the little green men in Kentucky. So, do you dream about people dying or not?”

  He couldn’t lie to her, even as much as he wanted to. “Yes.”

  “I see. How …?” Casting a glance at Logan, she delved deeper into what he was able to do. “Is it a dream that you can see how they—” She cut her question off from the sensitive listening ears.

  “More like nightmares, and I can’t see anything that happens,” he explained.

  “Then how do you know someone … is gone?”

  “Because I feel what is happening to them.”

  She went pale in the firelight. Her eyes moved back and forth between him and Logan.

  “Your brothers and sister have these gifts? Does Logan?”

  He would be putting Logan’s life in her hands if he answered her. He had trusted her to care for him when he was younger and had never been disappointed in her. However, his family protected Logan’s ability as much as they did Greer’s, probably more.

  “Logan can see pictures of something that is about to happen … Jessie, you can’t tell.”

  “If Jessie doesn’t tell, that makes her family, doesn’t it?” Logan said simply.

  Without words, Dustin tried to convey the enormity of her actions if she did. Evil would try to tarnish his gift and destroy him in the process.

  That she understood had her leaning forward, placing her hand on Logan’s knee.

  “Logan, your family secret is safe with me, I swear. But promise me you won’t tell anyone else, no matter how much you like them.”

  “I promise.”

  Dustin reached for the marshmallows. “I don’t know about you two, but all this talking has made me want another s’more. You want one, Logan?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “How about you, Jessie?”

  She reached out, taking the marshmallows away from him. “Let me do it.” Giving Logan a mischievous glance, she said, “You’ll burn them.”

  17

  The nightmare had her jerking awake in her sleeping bag, slapping at imaginary rats. Biting back a sob, she realized she had been dreaming and was in the tent with Logan, who was still sleeping despite her flailing arms.

  Still half asleep, all she could think about was going home. Unzipping her sleeping bag, she got up, not rising to her full height because of the tent. She couldn’t catch her breath in the confining space. Lowering the zipper, she then rushed out, nearly tripping over Dustin’s sleeping bag.

  She didn’t bother to put on her tennis shoes; her only instinct was to return to the safety of her home.

  “Jess.”

  Mid-flight, she looked down to see Dustin staring up at her in concern.

  “I had a nightmare.”

  He pulled the top of his sleeping bag open, remaining silent and giving her the choice to run or stay.

  With a broken sob, she crawled into the sleeping bag next to him, burrowing her head into his shoulder as Dustin covered them both.

  He reassuringly stroked her back, easing her frightened tremors.

  “I hate being a coward,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

  “You’re no coward. You’re the bravest woman I know,” he contradicted her, pulling the sleeping bag tighter around her.

  “It doesn’t feel that way. I feel like a freaking wimp.”

  “A Hayes, a wimp? That doesn’t exist. The Hayeses aren’t afraid of anyone. Everyone fears them. Your brothers would disown you for saying that.”

  “No, they wouldn’t. They’ve said the same thing themselves. Not often, but I heard it a time or two.”

  Her eyelids grew heavy from the heat of his body and the soft music that Dustin had left playing on the radio but had turned down when they had gone to bed. Gradually, her body relaxed, curving against his, feeling safe for the first time since she had woken to find herself clinging to the side of the mountain.

  “Like when they’re drunk?”

  “Maybe.”

  She heard the smile in his voice. “Do you remember when they used to be friends?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “Tate and Holt were. They would go hunting together every weekend. Asher and Greer would bug them until they gave in. I miss those times so bad. Then we all grew up,” he said simply.

  “To hate each other.”

  “Hate’s a strong word.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  At that, he didn’t say anything. He had never lied to her. It had been a rule in their childhood, and it still was.

  “Could you turn the music up a little? I like this song,” Jessie asked in a whisper-soft voice, not wanting to wake Logan in the tent.

  Dustin removed his arm long enough to turn sideways and raise the volume of the radio before wrapping her in his arms again.

  “When did you start having nightmares about people dying?”

  “I don’t know for sure. I think three, but Ma said I was a fussy baby. That’s why she always put us in the same playpen when she visited your mom.”

  “Does it happen often?”

  “No. Sometimes I’ll go a year or two without having them. Then others, it’ll happen two or three times a year. Depends on if I’ve been around who’s going to die. About a month before they die, I’ll dream about them every night. The nightmares get worse right before they die.”

  “And you’ve lived with this since you were a little boy?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve only had nightmares since I was kidnapped. I would have gone crazy if I had nightmares that bad when I was growing up.”

  “My pa thought I was before I was old enough to hide them from him. I couldn’t hide them from my grandmother. She’s the one who figured out why I was having them. She was always afraid of me.”

  “I’m sure she wasn’t.” She rubbed his chest in sympathy, instinctively feeling his hurt inside. “I wish you told me.”

  “I couldn’t. I shouldn’t have told you as much as I have. It would only take one word to the wrong person to create a hellstorm that there would be no coming back from.”

  “Greer is that good?”

  “He’s that good.”

  His conviction had Jessie wondering about the unseen depths of the man who she didn’t hate, yet surely didn’t like either.

  “He saved Pa’s life, Rachel’s, Holly’s, and Logan’s.”

  “I heard that Rachel can make people feel better, and that she used to give massages before she got married to Cash.” Thinking about that, she remembered Cash had been in a terrible accident, and she had been at the festival the
day Mag had nearly died. “She’s the reason Cash and Mag didn’t die.”

  “Yes. Most everyone in town thinks Rachel is a charlatan, except the ones she’s helped. She quit doing appointments because, when she and Greer do it, it takes a toll on their health. Greer still hasn’t fully recovered from the last person he helped. Rachel recuperates faster, but she’s not as strong a healer as Greer.”

  “Who did he heal?”

  “I don’t know. He hasn’t said. He went on a trip with The Last Riders, and when he came back, he looked like death warmed over.”

  “Why hasn’t he told you who it was?”

  “Greer can be superstitious. He believes that every time he or Rachel use their gift, a price has to be paid.”

  “A price? How?”

  “Like Greer not having enough strength if he needs to use it again before he’s recovered, and Rachel losing her baby. They can’t use their gifts continuously. Imagine hundreds of people begging to be healed. How would you pick and choose when friends and acquaintances you have known all your life are pleading for you to heal them? Cash keeps Rachel from giving too much of herself. Greer … well, his personality does that for him.”

  “Greer doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do,” Jessie agreed.

  “No, he doesn’t. Greer must have really liked whoever it was, or he wouldn’t have done it. He has to have his full strength to use his gift. If one of the kids became really hurt or sick, he wouldn’t be able to help.”

  “I understand. I would hoard it, too, if I had children. It would be awful if he needed it and couldn’t.”

  “That’s why we keep it a secret.”

  “I won’t tell anyone, not even my brothers. I swear.”

  “If worse came to worst, Greer is old and mean enough to deal with the repercussions if it became public. Even Rachel would be fine with Cash and The Last Riders protecting her. But Logan is the one we worry about the most. His gift could get him or anyone he cares about hurt. If people found out he could predict future events, his life would become not his own.

  “The sad fact is, our gifts are limited to what we can and can’t do. Like me dreaming about someone dying but not knowing who it is, and Tate hearing the death bells yet not knowing for whom they are ringing, and Logan seeing pictures, not knowing what they mean.”

  “The price that Greer was talking about?”

  “Yes, we each have to pay it. No exceptions.”

  “That’s why you were so certain Asher stole your pot.”

  Jessie felt Dustin nod. “Yes. Logan had drawn a picture of him with the dog.”

  “I swear I didn’t know until he told me the day you came visiting. I told him I’d never forgive him for luring Logan away from the house. Asher said he’d never forgive himself either.”

  “He wanted to buy Diane a ring so she’d marry him.”

  “That doesn’t make me want to forgive him.”

  “Me either, but I’m going to.”

  She tilted her head back so she could look at his face. “Why would you ever want to forgive him?”

  “I’ve done some pretty stupid things for a woman myself. Unless I can cast that first stone at myself, I damn sure can’t throw one at Asher. Diane didn’t only pull the wool over Asher’s eyes, she did Greer’s, too. That’s how Asher knew where to find the pot and how she found the key to a chest he kept in his room that held quilts made by hand. She destroyed them. The only ones that have theirs are Tate and Rachel. Mine and Greer’s were destroyed.”

  “I’m sorry. I know how much they must have meant to you. All of you loved your mother.”

  “Do you see yours?”

  Jessie laid her head back down on his shoulder. “She died a year ago.”

  “Damn, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “We didn’t tell anyone. We went to the funeral that day and came back. We were never close to her after she left. I think it brought back too many memories of how miserable she was with Pa, and I can’t blame her. He was a miserable old man.

  “She married him as soon as she turned eighteen, and he wouldn’t let her leave the mountain unless he was with her. He wouldn’t even let her get her driver’s license. I think the only reason she lasted as long as she did was because of Holt, Asher, and me. When he quit letting your mother come over to visit, I think it was too lonely for her to bear anymore.”

  “Our fathers were jackasses.”

  “Yes, they were.”

  Snuggling closer to him, she let her lids close as she listened to the soft music that lulled her back to sleep.

  He smoothed his hand up her back to settle on the back of her neck, massaging the taut muscles with his thumb. “Jess, I regret that I ended our friendship the way I did. You have a right to hate me. I screwed up so bad with you that I wouldn’t spit on myself if you wanted to shove me in the firepit, but I won’t ever regret Sam. She gave me Logan. She was never able to stand up to her father to tell him that we were seeing each other and wanted to get married. The only time she was able to stand up to him was when she found out she was pregnant with Logan. That was her first and only attempt at trying to get out from under his thumb until he went to prison. By then, she knew we were over because of the life she had been leading. She had changed so much. I didn’t even recognize her when she opened that hotel room door.

  “I think she was embarrassed that I knew Knox had just left. From there, it went downhill. I never meant to shove her back and kill her, nor that I didn’t go to the police immediately.”

  “Dustin, it wasn’t your fault. The papers said you weren’t responsible; it was her kidneys. She was getting ready to leave town with Holly and Logan. Logan could have died because of her irresponsibility. And she had been lying to Holly about taking Logan to the doctor to see why he was so sick. If Holly and her ex-boyfriend hadn’t broken into Diamond’s office, you would have never found Logan before it was too late. I remember how weak and fragile he was before the doctor gave the approval for him to go to daycare.”

  “I’ve made too many mistakes in my life, but Logan will never be one of them. I would die for him.”

  “I know. He’s kind of hard not to love. And I’m going to be honest, too. I was jealous of her every time I saw her with you. I felt like I was being stabbed in the gut when I found out she was pregnant. But from the very freaking moment Holly brought Logan into the daycare, I fell in love with him. How could I not? He’s your son.”

  Dustin stopped moving his hand on the back of her neck, gliding it over to cup her cheek. “So, where do we go from here?”

  “We go to sleep. Right now, that’s all I can manage.”

  Jessie felt the lightest touch of his lips brushing her forehead before he returned his hand to stroking her back.

  “Sweet dreams. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

  “You’re not helping me go to sleep by reminding me of bugs that are probably trying to slip into the sleeping bag.”

  He tightened his arms around her. “Do you want to go back into the tent, where they can’t get to you?”

  “No, I want to stay here.” Confessing the truth wasn’t easy, but she did it anyway.

  “Good. This is where I want you.”

  “Jess ….”

  Jessie opened her eyes, seeing the sun shining off a barrel of a rifle pressed into the side of Dustin’s temple.

  “Jess … tell Bubba that I’m going to kick his ass when he moves that gun.”

  “Tell Dustin”—her cousin mockingly rose his one shaggy eyebrow—“that unless he’s a cat, I don’t have a damn thing to worry about because I’m going to splatter what brains he has over this mountainside.”

  “Tell him that—”

  Jessie giggled. “Tell him yourself. He’s standing right there.”

  “If I don’t talk to him when I see him in town, why would I talk to him when he’s sharing a sleeping bag with you?”

  Jessie rose into a sitting position to glare at Bubba. “Because it’s the pol
ite thing to do when you barge into our campsite and put a gun to someone’s head? You know nothing happened. You and Bud sat in the bushes watching us after we went to bed.”

  “That damn bush was too little to sit under, so we had to lay under it. My back is itching. And I told Holt I’d watch you. There is only so much a man can stomach, and having to watch pretty boy here all comfortable and snuggled against you for five fucking hours is more than I can stomach.”

  “Then go home, you old wart hog.”

  Jessie put her hand over Dustin’s mouth so he wouldn’t insult her younger cousin again.

  He stared up at her balefully as she tried to talk Bubba out of pulling the trigger.

  “He doesn’t mean it. Dustin’s always grouchy when he wakes up.”

  “How do you know what he’s like in the morning?”

  “We used to play together when we were younger.”

  “You aren’t young’uns anymore. You two need to keep to your own beds.”

  “We do. I had a nightmare last night. He was comforting me, and I fell asleep.”

  “I bet he did,” Bubba said sarcastically, pressing the barrel down harder.

  “Stop it. You know nothing happened.” Trying to drill anything into a male Hayes’s thick head had always been a source of frustration for her, especially this one. He was twenty-six and looked like a man in his thirties because of his god-awful bushy beard that grew to his chest. “You’re just being ornery.”

  “I passed ornery two hours ago. Now I’m just pissed and wanting a cup of coffee.”

  “If I make you one, will you quit threatening to shoot Dustin?”

  “Yep.” Raising his rifle to his shoulder, Bubba gave the bushes behind him a chin nod. “Make enough for Bud and BoDean.”

  Jessie removed her hand from Dustin’s mouth to climb out of the sleeping bag.

  “I’m not making them coffee,” Dustin snapped as he sat up to tug his boots on.

  “Good.” Bubba snorted, restarting the fire with the sticks that Dustin had stockpiled last night as her cousins crawled out from underneath the bushes. “What’d you bring us for breakfast?”

  “I didn’t bring anything—” Dustin started to deny, but Jessie was already shaking her head, knowing they weren’t going to get rid of her cousins until they had a full belly.