by Sybil Bartel
“That will not happen.” Hunting had taught me many things. Not the least of which was how to read people. Humans were not much different than animals. They broadcast emotions and intent with body language. But humans hid behind actions and they often spoke words that did not match their expressions. Some had secrets they hid, some manipulated, some were overtly obvious. But some were pure of heart and they wore it like a child wears joy. There was no mistaking the pureness in my angel. I would never tire of that.
“You don’t know that,” she protested.
I thought best how to answer. “Did you forget about me in one year’s time?”
“No, but—”
“I did not forget about you.” I thought of her daily. “This is not fleeting.”
“Not for nothin’, darlin’,” Talon interrupted. “He’s right. When a man knows, he just knows. Have a little mercy on the poor bastard and give in.” He chuckled. “Not that I’m listenin’ to y’all fight a losin’ battle.”
“Oh my God,” she groaned, pulling out of my grasp. “How do you know him?”
“Ohhh,” Talon laughed, drawing the word out. “Me and Cult Boy go way back. Six months back to when I was shootin’ shit up at his homestead, filterin’ out the crazy. Mainly that Jesus-complex Stephens,” he spit the last three words out with disgust before turning in his seat to look at Angel. “But don’t worry, Sister Wife.” He slapped me on the knee. “This one’s as solid as they come.”
Her eyebrows drew together as she looked from Talon to me. “He was there when River Stephens died?”
“Right there,” Talon answered, his expression sobering before he turned back around.
She looked at Talon then Luna. “You two knew River Stephens?”
For the second time in my life, I wanted to swear. Instead, I said nothing. Talon stared straight ahead and Luna’s shoulders stiffened.
She looked between all of us. “So that’s it? No one’s going to say anything?”
The tires hummed on the asphalt.
No one said anything.
“Oh come on,” she protested. “All of you came to rescue me, but I’m not allowed to know how you three met?”
Talon shrugged. “Not my story to tell.”
Yet he had already said more than half of it.
“This is neither the time nor the place,” I said quietly to only her.
“Fine.” She crossed her arms and leaned away from me.
I lasted three intakes and exhales of breath. Then I started at the beginning. “When I was eighteen, I was given the responsibility of a young woman.” I did not look at Luna, and I did not say female. “I tended to her for years, until the FBI raided the compound on weapons charges three years ago. As a hunter, I had a duty and a position to maintain if such an occurrence came about. Decima, my charge, was not the only woman on the compound. There were many women and children, and protocol was that they all filtered into one building for safety until the men eliminated the threat.”
Eyes wide, Emily turned to me, but she did not interrupt.
I continued. “The raid quickly escalated and turned deadly, for both my compound brothers and the federal agents. I held my position on perimeter defense until the surviving agents saw River Stephens flee into the woods and retreated, taking the injured and dead compound brothers with them.” None of whom I ever saw again. “When I went to let the women out, Decima was missing. For years, I believed her to be dead. Six months ago, she showed up at the compound with André and Talon and other armed men, offering a trade in exchange for the bounty River had issued on her head.”
My angel’s mouth formed a perfect O. “River Stephens really put out bounties on any escaped member’s head? Like literally, that’s not a made-up story?”
André grunted. “No story, chica.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “So what happened to her?”
“The federal agents had taken her during the raid, then later set her free. She never came back to the compound. She made a new life for herself.” My eyes on my angel, I nodded toward Luna. “She now belongs to André.”
Her mouth opened but no words came out.
Talon laughed without humor. “Small world, huh, darlin’?”
Her mouth closed and she nodded, but she was looking at me with a question in her eyes I did not understand.
“Ask,” I demanded.
She swallowed, turning to face me. “If she never came back, those years she was gone…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Did you, did you ever…?”
I knew what she was asking. I shook my head once.
Her gaze dropped to her lap for a moment, before meeting mine again. “She was your, um…” She swallowed. “Only girlfriend?”
I was not ashamed of my past, but I was acutely aware of my situational circumstances. Traveling on a Mexican highway at ninety miles per hour with my ex-charge’s new man behind the wheel was not the time to discuss my past, but I had learned that life was never aligned with the right opportunity.
I lowered my voice so only my angel could hear. “I did not get to choose the one and only woman I have ever been with.” I gripped her chin. “This time, I am choosing.”
HE HAD ONLY BEEN with one woman.
André’s woman.
And André had come to help rescue me.
I felt insignificant and immature and, frankly, undeserving. I couldn’t begin to decipher the dynamics of these men’s complicated relationship. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to. All I knew? Everything else in my life felt inconsequential.
Losing my job. Saying goodbye to Ethan. My anger toward Phoebe. What Mom or Ted would think of Callan and me together—none of it mattered anymore.
A string of incredibly improbable circumstances had brought me to this very moment.
A gas station god had brought me to this moment.
And I didn’t want to run from it. Not anymore.
As if sensing the fundamental change in my mind, Callan held his hand out, palm up, by my leg.
I threaded my fingers through his.
For the first time in forever, I felt like I belonged somewhere.
Speeding down a two-lane Mexican highway, sandwiched between two Mexican Federal Police trucks, time stopped and I just held his hand. He no longer felt like the stepbrother I never knew. He was the man who’d come for me. The man who’d killed for me.
There were countless reasons why killing was wrong, but I couldn’t find any remorse. That man had taken children to sell as sex slaves. I was glad he was dead. I wanted to believe I would’ve pulled the trigger myself given the opportunity. But I realized I didn’t have to think about that. Not ever.
Callan had taken that burden off my shoulders.
I glanced up, and as if he knew I would be seeking the comfort of his intense, unwavering stare, his gaze was waiting for me. His eyes softened, his hand squeezed mine and he exhaled. Without words, he said so much.
I felt him more in my heart with every passing mile.
Leaning against his shoulder, I stared out at the barren landscape, and I did something I hadn’t done since I was kid. I just sat in the moment. I didn’t think about what was going to come next. I wasn’t stressing over exams and medical books I didn’t understand. I wasn’t planning my life to be perfect so that I would never need anyone or anything.
I just sat.
For four hours, with the exception of two times when he let go of me to ready his rifle when André warned of vehicles in the distance, Callan held my hand. It wasn’t perfect, because life was too unforgiving to be perfect, but it was our perfect.
When we got close to the border crossing, André followed the federale in front of us to a lane marked as closed.
The officer in the passenger seat got out and came to André’s window. “Pasaportes.”
André handed over our passports and asked the man something in Spanish.
Without answering, the officer walked over to a border patrol agent and showed him our
passports.
“That’s gonna cost us.” Talon eyed the officer then tipped his chin at André. “Fifty bucks says he comes back with a problem.”
“Mierda,” André muttered. “You hear that?”
“Yeah.” Talon watched the officer and the border patrol guy argue, then sighed. “Here we go.” He glanced back at Callan. “You’re up, Cult Boy. Play nice.”
The officer and border patrol agent walked up to the vehicle.
The border patrol agent put his hand on his gun and stood two feet back from André’s open window. “Callan Anders, step out of the vehicle.”
I grabbed Callan’s hand with both of mine. “What’s going on?”
He dislodged my grip and discreetly put his rifle at his feet. “It will be fine.” He got out of the SUV.
The border patrol stepped back another foot when he saw Callan’s height. “This passport was issued yesterday.”
Callan didn’t hesitate. “That is correct.”
“It is not possible to receive a passport on date of issue except for emergency situations,” the border patrol agent said in broken English. “What was your emergency in Mexico?”
“My stepsister was injured.”
I cringed at hearing him say stepsister after holding his hand for four hours.
“Where?” the border patrol agent demanded.
“On a ship. She fell.”
The border patrol agent’s eyes narrowed. “They have doctores on those cruise ships.”
“They do.” Callan did not correct his incorrect assumption about it being a cruise ship. “She still preferred to disembark and come home.”
The border patrol agent looked in the open door.
I angled slightly so he could see my bandaged knees and feet.
The border patrol agent looked from my legs to the passport, then back to Callan. He wordlessly handed the passport back to Callan.
Callan got back in the SUV, André shook the policeman’s hand, slipping him more money, then we pulled through the border crossing.
The second the back tires left Mexico, Talon exhaled, stretching his arms above his head. “I fuckin’ love Texas.”
“Where are we going now?” I blurted, suddenly realizing I could be in this dress and SUV for days.
“Airport,” André clipped, looking at his watch.
Oh God. “I can’t fly commercial looking like this.”
Talon looked over his shoulder. “Private jet, darlin’. It even has a shower.” He winked. “We gotcha covered.”
A HALF HOUR LATER, André pulled in to a private airport and drove up to the plane we’d flown to Mexico on. Pulling some rags from between the front seats, he handed one to me and one to Talon. “Wipe everything down, leave the rifles. One of my men will be here to take care of the vehicle tomorrow.”
Angel silently looked from the jet to me to both Luna and Talon wiping down the doors and the dash.
I wiped my side and the rifle, then opened the door to a blast of heat, both from the plane’s engines already on and the Texas heat, which was no different than Mexico. “Wait there,” I instructed, before walking to her side of the vehicle.
Helping her get down from the seat, I quickly wiped down anywhere she may have touched, then I pocketed the rag and scooped her up.
Roark opened the plane’s door as I approached the steps.
He nodded once. “Anders.”
Nodding back, I walked up the stairs with Emily in my arms. Feeling possessive, I did not introduce her.
Roark stepped back. “Sorry we couldn’t wait for you in Altamira.”
It was not his fault. “It worked out.”
Roark took in Emily’s appearance and indicated her bag on a seat. “Her things are there, shower will be available after takeoff, and medical supplies were restocked. Drinks and snacks are in the galley. Need anything else?”
“No, thank you.” I set Emily in a seat next to her things as Luna and Talon came on board. Andre quietly took a seat while Talon joined Roark in the cockpit.
“That’s my bag.” She looked up at me with surprise. “You brought me stuff from my apartment?”
“Yes.” I sat next to her. “Your sister put together some clothes for you.”
“Oh my God.” She reached for the bag and unzipped it. “And there’s a shower on the plane?”
“Yes.” Something I never would have imagined existed growing up.
As she searched her bag, her face fell.
“What is wrong?”
“Nothing.” She looked over her shoulder toward the rear of the plane with longing.
“After takeoff you may use the facilities.” Tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, I studied her expression. “Why did you get upset when you looked in the bag?”
She sighed as the engines grew louder. “Nothing. I’m being stupid.”
“Nothing you feel is stupid.”
She stared at me a moment, then shook her head. “I’m being ungrateful is all.”
Roark let us know he was taxiing and to buckle our seat belts. A few minutes later, we were in the air and she’d glanced at the bathroom twice.
I unbuckled her seat belt. “Go. Do you need help?”
She shook her head.
“Be careful with your cuts. I will get you something to drink.”
She barely nodded before she was rushing toward the bathroom with her bag. I was glad to see no limp in her step.
Luna glanced at me as I headed to the small built-in kitchen. “She okay?”
“She will be.” Time would put distance between her and the events of the past thirty-six hours.
“Pretty girl.” He paused. “She really your sister?”
He had already asked this of me. “What do you really want to know?”
He sighed heavily. “Just wondering if this is gonna stick.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Can’t blame me for wanting you to find someone else.”
“Decima was never mine.”
He chuckled without humor. “You ever gonna use her new name?”
Doubtful. “I have no reason to converse with her.”
“Good. Then this’ll make what I have to say a lot easier.” He looked at me with complete sincerity. “You handled yourself well out there. Better than some Marines with years of training.”
I did not see that as a compliment. I was not handling myself. “I did what needed to be done.”
He inhaled as if resigned. “You should come work for me.”
I was not surprised by the offer. I knew how to hunt. I had spent my entire life honing that skill, and part of Luna’s business, when he was not protecting people, was to find them. Hunting people was not much different than hunting animals. I understood his offer, but I did not understand why he would want me to work for him. I was not a charity case. He should know that a man who could afford a hundred-thousand-dollar private jet rental did not need money.
I kept my response simple. “I do not need money.”
“I’m not saying you do,” he countered. “I’m saying I could use someone with your skill set.”
“No thank you.” I reached for the red can of soda I knew she preferred and offered an exchange of goodwill. “However, I will return the favor of help if you ever need it.”
“Understood.” He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “You gonna ask about her?”
I put ice in a cup, but I did not say anything. It was a question that did not need to be asked.
“You really over her?”
“I was never under her,” I replied frankly.
His laugh was loud but also not without anger. “Jesucristo.” He stood and grabbed a water bottle from the small built-in refrigerator. “You are one blunt motherfucker.”
“And you are not.”
He opened his water, but he did not deny my observation. “In my business, it pays to be diplomatic.”
“You could not pay me to lie.” I would find another occupation if needed.
&nb
sp; Luna eyed me as he took a sip of his water. “Maybe not, but you still got around the truth with that border patrol agent. Some consider omission the same thing as lying.”
I took into consideration what he said. “I am not saying I am without fault. I have lied.”
Luna held a hand up. “I’m not judging, just stating facts.”
“And I am not defending my actions. I am merely saying I would not prefer to do what you do if it meant I needed to be diplomatic.” I knew the definition of the word, and I inferred his meaning to be tactful. “I have no desire to spend my days dancing around interpretations of terminology.”
Luna laughed. “That’s because you don’t talk. I’ve spent two days with you and this is the most you’ve spoken.” He finished his water. “Not saying there’s anything wrong with that though.” He slapped me on the shoulder and disposed of his water bottle. “I hate wasted breath myself.”
Then it was good he was with Decima. I merely nodded and took a water for myself and a package of nuts for Emily and returned to my seat with her soda.
Andre glanced toward the rear of the plane. “You gonna marry that girl?”
After all the favors he had done for me, I fought to keep from telling him to mind his own business.
As if sensing my irritation, he smiled. “Just saying the ladies usually want a ring and a commitment.” He eyed me. “If you’re serious.”
I lost my refrain. “Tend to your own matters.”
He did not let it go. “This isn’t about insulting each other. I’m just saying it’s a different life out in the world than what you came from.”
“Do not mistake my candor for insults.” I knew life on the compound had not been typical. I knew it the first time I was permitted to leave to fill a gas tank. Fifteen turns around the sun, no life experiences outside of hunting, and I still had understood immediately how different River Ranch was.
He eyed me for a moment. “Just helping a brother out, man. That’s all.”
“I am not your brother.”
“Yeah,” he said tiredly. “I get that. Doesn’t mean disrespect. Just something we call the men in the trenches next to us in the military.” He held my gaze. “I’m just saying, you got my back, I’ve got yours.”