by Angela White
Marc’s stomach was full of white, hot anger and he felt himself preparing for battle even while the pain of seeing her in someone else's arms flooded his heart. Angie had her man back, and he didn’t seem at all surprised to see them. Had he been spying? Their moment in the bedroom, right after they’d woken, came to mind, and Marc’s gut tightened. What all had Kenn seen? Them in bed together, the kiss… too much.
It implied a lot more than there was, and as their eyes locked over Angie’s tense shoulder, the message was clear: She’s mine. Go way or I’ll kill you!
Dog’s thick fur began to bristle, golden eyes filling with dislike. When he gave a low growl, Marc put a hand on the distraught animal’s head. “Me too, boy. Me too.”
Angela regretted the hug the second Kenny crushed her close. She tried to pull away when his head lowered to hers, but he had a hand tangled tightly in her thick curls, holding her still as his tongue invaded, conquered, revolted.
Kenn ground his mouth against hers, as that distinctive, addictive scent of vanilla filled his nose. He wondered how much more Brady would allow before stepping in and getting himself killed.
Ah! Not much at all, Kenn gloated to himself, half-turning them to be in the right position as he shoved his tongue deeper. Her Tag-along was already moving from his place in the doorway.
Angela picked up the thought and understood he was trying to provoke Marc, catch him off guard. She slammed her boot against Kenn’s ankle, leaning her weight into it as she elbowed him in his flat stomach.
Not expecting her to fight, Kenn grunted, letting go.
Angela stayed between the two men, only backing up a little as she tried to remember what she’d learned. He would see right now that things had changed.
“What the hell was that for?” Kenn snarled at her, closing the distance between them.
The Witch said to provoke him now so they could either kill him or be killed, but be done with it, and Angela’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t let go.”
Kenn’s voice was savage as he leaned toward her, itching to break her crooked nose again. “And I never will!”
His eyes went to the Marine now standing alertly near her bumper, big black-and-gray dog bristling at his side. “You have one minute to tell me what you’re doing with him! Who is Brady to you?”
Kenn grinned harshly at her surprise. “Yeah, I know him! Answer me!”
He was trying to intimidate her, but Angela surprised them all by shoving him with both hands, moving him out of her personal space as she'd learned. “Stop yelling at me!” she blared, catching him off guard again.
“We can have a normal conversation, or we can spill blood right here and now,” she warned coldly. “It’s your choice.”
It was dangerous to push, but the old Angela, the one who’d battled him early in their relationship, was guiding them through this minefield. When his eyes flicked to Brady and then Dog, she let herself breathe. Sometimes getting Kenny to think before he acted was the only key to surviving the encounter.
Kenn hated it that he might be outnumbered by the tense Marine edging closer and the bristling animal at his side, that upon closer inspection, appeared to be a wolf… but also by Angela herself, who had obviously done a lot of changing (reverting) during her trip.
“Fine. We’ll talk,” he sneered sarcastically.
Angela cocked her head, and the sun came through the clouds of grit above them as if to back her up. “We’ll start the entire conversation over.”
He grunted, and Angela forced a cheery smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Hello, Kenn. Good to see you. How have you been?”
The Marine grinned coolly, instantly recognizing her tactics. He should. He’d used them daily on her. “Never better. Enjoy your trip?”
Kenn felt his rage go up another notch when she nodded, shuttered eyes finding her escort before returning to his angry face.
“Some of it, yes.”
Kenn’s eyes promised payment. “Hope it was worth it.”
Angela continued without hesitation, even though his beefy hands were clenched into tight fists. “It was. Where’s my boy?”
Kenn said nothing, waiting, wanting to hear her beg. He wasn’t prepared for the hate that filled her face.
“I don’t need you to find him! How do you think I got here?” she ground out through clenched teeth.
Kenn was too pissed to be worried, though he had an idea he might be in a little danger. She’d done more than revert. She was using the power! She'd unlocked it! He had always known she could. The old, thwarted bitterness settled heavily into his stomach. “You do need me to get near him. He’s with my men, and they won’t want to kill you, but they will.”
Was there a way he could get control of her power now? His mind flashed a picture of her son. Yes. There was.
“Be very careful, grunt.”
Her tone was deadly and Kenn growled at her in rage. She didn’t back down, didn’t look away, and he hated the new knowledge about life and death he read in her eyes. She thought she could kill him, and that was bad. How much practice had she gotten? What had she done, been through, to get here?
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Angela stated harshly.
Kenn stared at her in shock, unable to believe she would dare to get in his head so openly, so arrogantly. Didn’t she remember what he’d threatened to do if she used it on him?
“Everything has changed, Kenn. You broke our deal when you abandoned me for that group of strangers you’ve been lying to!”
On the edge of control at her veiled threat to reveal his secrets, Kenn was surprised to discover that her disobedience was worse. He hadn’t thought her hold on him was that strong anymore.
“You have six years left! You belong to me!” he hissed violently, moving closer.
Angela, struggling against the fear, fought back. “Not anymore. I want out!”
“No!”
“You don’t own me!”
“How long have you two been sleeping together?”
“We aren’t!”
“Lyin' bitch!”
“You go to Hell!”
Kenn’s hand flinched, and Angela felt herself being brushed aside.
Marc stepped between them, finally eye-to-eye with the man responsible for hurting his Angie over and over. “It’s been a while, Harrison.”
“Not long enough, Brady.”
Marc didn’t respond to the accusation in Kenn’s eyes as he waited for one of them (Angela) to get nervous and start talking, but they (she) remained silent.
Kenn frowned deeper. “You’re...traveling together?” he asked finally.
Marc took the lead, broad shoulders prepared to take whatever came. “We were both headed this way, and I couldn’t let her go it alone. She was hard to convince, though.” Marc lied easily. This was indeed a thin line, and he wasn’t the only one walking it. She hadn’t been exaggerating even a little. The LC was deadly with the M16 on his back.
“Well, thanks buddy, but I’ve got it from here. You can hit the redline.”
Marc’s grin widened into sharp white teeth as the wolf lingered at his hip, dark fur on his back and tail bushed-out aggressively. “Welcome, pal, but a funny thing happened on the way here. I discovered I want to be with… other people, and I might just stick close for a while.”
Marc took a step forward, bringing them to within inches of each other as the wind gusted through the dead corn. “Real close.”
Angela knew blood was about to flow, and stayed out of it, waiting to see if Kenn would force his own death. She wasn’t as eager as Marc, but if it had to happen, the best time was now, while Kenn was alone.
Kenn’s hairy knuckles inched toward the 9mm on his hip. “She has a man, you fucking Jody! Back off!”
Marc snorted, furious blue eyes full of contempt. “If you want to call yourself that.”
Kenn sneered threateningly, lightly-bearded face full of hate. “What the hell's that suppose
d to mean, Boot?”
Marc put them chest to chest without hesitation. “It means she’s not your punching bag anymore! You wanna hit someone, grungeshit, you hit me!”
Kenn didn’t hesitate either, and swung hard. The hit rocked Marc's head back, and then the two men were at each other, trading vicious blows.
“Like that?” Kenn taunted, following the upper cut with a powerful roundhouse.
Marc ducked the blow, landed a nasty knuckle to Kenn’s temple that made the Marine stagger. “Yeah! More!”
Kenn rushed him, head slamming into his gut, and Marc immediately drove his elbow into Kenn’s shoulder blade.
Kenn jerked, grunting as he was rocked off balance, and they hit the dirt with a hard thud, swinging, wrestling, trying to get the advantage.
Angela waved a hand at Dog to stay back as Marc pushed Kenn off of him with his legs and rolled onto his feet.
Kenn rushed, and Marc ducked again, foot flashing out at the last minute to trip him up.
The blow the jealous man had been throwing glanced off Marc’s wounded arm, and Brady kicked him in the ribs as he went down, wound stinging from ripped stitches.
Kenn was on his feet in a blur, hand flying toward his hip, and both of Brady’s guns were out before the furious Marine could pull his own.
“Do it!” Marc goaded, fingers tightening… longing to squeeze. “Make it count. I will.”
Kenn thought about it. He was fast, better than anyone in Adrian’s camp, but Brady had always beaten him at the base. Always. Kenn’s hand moved away from the holster he’d gotten open.
“Wise choice,” Marc warned, not feeling the blood seeping through the dusty white gauze on his arm.
Kenn’s rough face was cold, dangerous. “I’ll kill you for this. Don’t turn your back.”
Marc moved a step closer, ready. “Then let’s just end it now.”
There was loathing in his team leader’s eyes. Kenn had no doubt Brady would pull the trigger, but fate intervened at that moment, and he didn’t get to find out if Angela would have even tried to stop it.
“Someone’s coming,” she gasped.
Both men responded to the undeniable tremor of fear in her voice.
“Good or bad?” Marc asked, lowering but not re-holstering, and she looked at him with hazy eyes that made Kenn’s heart slide into his gut. There was no way Adrian would miss that.
“Both?”
Marc looked at Kenn with the eyes of a lifelong enemy. “This isn’t over.”
“You can bet on that!” Kenn snarled right back, and spit blood at Brady’s boots.
Marc slid his weapons into their holsters before turning to Angie. “Where?”
She pointed to the west, still watching Kenny from the corner of her eye, even though Marc had turned his back with no obvious worry. Her Marine had lost. That made him more lethal than if he’d won.
The faint echo of hoof beats came to them. When Marc automatically waved Kenn to protect her, and then did the same himself, putting her between them, Angela was more than surprised to see her Marine obey without any sign it bothered him. Her eyes narrowed. That’s how Kenny knew Marc. They had served together. Had Brady known all along? She shook her head. No. He couldn’t have kept that from her. He was too open to be holding a secret that huge.
“There.”
A muddy black horse came thundering around the corner as she spoke, carrying a thin, white male with a black bandana covering most of his face and a frantically waving blonde behind him in a long brown trench coat.
“How did they know we were here?” Angela asked, all three of them relaxing a little as they watched the dust fly up from the hooves.
Kenn smoothed down his short dark spikes. “They found you the same way I did,” the Marine stated, throwing a cold look at Brady and then at the softly growling animal that had returned to its master’s side. “They passed over that ridge and saw two muddy Blazers parked in the middle of the street.”
Before Marc could respond, the foaming black horse was upon them, barely stopping before the dirty-blonde woman was off and staggering toward them. She was sickly-looking, gaunt, with sharp lines of her skeleton poking through her sagging skin. She collapsed against Angela, pulling them both to the dusty ground as she sobbed and tried to talk.
“People! Oh, God!”
The man dismounted, lowering the bandana from his scruffy face, but he stayed by the exhausted animal. He studied Marc and Kenn with shifty green eyes, and they both noticed he paid no attention to the raving woman trying to get a rush of words out through her tears.
“Slavers! Escaped… Have to get further… gun? Have a gun?”
The blonde began to cry harder, gut-wrenching sobs, and Angela helped her take off the stinking, threadbare trench coat so she could check her out. Except for the infected burn on her hip, most of the woman’s injuries appeared to be minor. Her mental state however, might be a different story.
“Escaped from who?” Kenn demanded, moving toward the man.
His tone was menacing. Rick, a lifelong coward, took a step back. “Big group of Mexicans. We got away while they were drinking.”
“Where?” Kenn growled and Rick’s beady eyes narrowed.
“On 25, near Cheyenne,” the traitor answered, wondering who this hard-eyed, beaten-up man was. The outline of dog tags under a blood-splattered shirt caught Rick’s eye, and his lips tightened. The enemy.
“How many?” Kenn demanded, disapproving gaze sweeping over dirty jeans, cruddy fingernails, and greasy brown hair. Adrian wouldn’t like this guy at all.
“Sixty or seventy, maybe,” Rick lied, glad Sam hadn’t seen all of Cesar’s camp. There was easily three times that number.
“Armed?”
Rick gave him a pointed look and thrust restless hands deep into his jean pockets to keep his nervousness from showing. “Isn’t everyone now?”
“How long were you with them?”
Rick looked away. “A long time. They took me back in Trinidad.”
Kenn scowled, full of frustration. He hadn’t gotten rid of Brady fast enough. The man and woman would have to be taken back to Adrian. They had inside information on the Slavers, and that meant no time to ditch his former team leader or hole up with Angela for a few days. Damn it!
“Who are you?” Kenn barked, thinking it should be Angela flinching instead of the filthy sheep in front of him.
“I’m Rick. She’s Samantha.”
Kenn moved back to Angela with resentful eyes, one of them swelling and starting to ache as it turned color.
Teeth bared, Dog gave a menacing growl as he got close, one that made the Marine hesitate and then snarl back his own warning.
Both Brady and Angela were surprised to see the wolf hesitate. The big animal backed up only a single step, but Marc felt his worry increase. Even the wolf knew Kenn was a violent, trained killer.
“How is she?” Kenn demanded.
“Dehydrated, malnourished, shock…”
“Can she travel?”
Marc’s eyes narrowed at the rude interruption, but he stayed quiet when Angela looked at him. She wanted to try again to handle it peacefully.
“Get her in your Blazer. We can make it to camp by dawn.” Kenn ordered.
“Camp? As in Safe Haven, the place you had yet to mention?” Angela asked sharply.
Kenn didn’t deny the accusation in her tone, but he worried over how much she already knew about Adrian’s camp and how things were run. Would any of his bluffs work?
In the tension, only the freshly-sedated blonde saw Rick’s brief smile of success.
Kenn and Marc moved the woman to the passenger seat of Angela’s Blazer. The Marine picked out details that enraged him, like the edge of a lacy white bra under a purple gift bag and a pair of green boxers showing from the corner of a black duffle bag. He saw the vehicle for what it was – living quarters. They’d been playing house!
When the two men moved back to let Angela through with her bag, t
heir eyes locked over her head.
“You’ve disgraced the Corps, and once we get to camp I’ll do my best to get you turned away for it!” Kenn growled, stomped away before his rage could take control again.
Angela handed Marc the black hat she’d retrieved from the middle of the street. “You all right?”
His bruised face was troubled. “Yeah, you?”
“Better now. It’s good that you were able to back him down. Thank you.”
Marc fingered his swelling jaw. “It really isn’t over, Honey. This was only the beginning.”
3
Kenn pulled up next to them a minute later in an ugly green Bronco and got out, waving a hand at Rick. Marc, he ignored. “Leave the horse. You drive your woman.”
Kenn then looked at Angela, saw the wolf move to her side, golden eyes now without mercy, and stayed back, “You ride with me.”
Marc started to protest and Angela shook her head, stepping past him. “I’ll be fine, just keep up. He’s hell behind the wheel.”
More than nervous, Angela let Kenn push her into his truck, but as he got in, she turned to him, determined to throw him off balance from the start.
“What were you doing out here, away from camp?”
She didn’t wince as he slammed the door, though clearly he’d expected her to. She was no longer scared of him just because he was a man, but she was afraid of the dangerous person she knew lurked inside, though she thought she had done a good job so far of pretending she wasn’t.
Kenn stared at her for a long moment, saying nothing. When she didn’t either, just waited for an answer, he shifted into drive and hit the gas.
He didn’t look to see if the others were ready, but Angela knew Brady was on their bumper. “Well?”
Kenn lit a smoke. “We got a call from the woman. Adrian sent me to get her and some medicine we need.”
His voice was laced with pride, and Angela hated the curl of jealousy in her voice as she laid the foundation of her plan - change. “Who’s Adrian, and who are you to him that you’re trusted with something like that?”
Kenn gave her a quick, surprised look. The Angela he knew wouldn’t have known the mission was important. “I’m whatever he needs,” Kenn answered evasively, not wanting to tell her how high in the chain of command he really was, how permanent a place he’d carved out at Safe Haven.