by Freya Barker
At least two hours have passed. Fuck. Katie must be getting frantic by now and there is nothing I can say to change that idiot's mind.
As soon as I hear his voice, I knew I was bested by my little brother, but the fucker wouldn't listen and just put handcuffs on me and tossed me down the hole into the kiva. He sat at the edge up top, just staring down.
"Mal, you can't stay here. People are getting killed over you." I try again.
"So what do you want, Jefe? Want me to give myself up? You think it's gonna stop there? I don't have the drugs they think I took. Don't have ‘em... Fuck. You think I'm that stupid, going up against the cartel? I've had my suspicions. Benji had more money than was reasonable, had a cocky attitude that was new. Mouthing off about his Mexican 'buddies'. He's stupid as fuck, is what he is. At first I couldn't believe he'd do me like that, but when people started dying over this missing load and then eyes started turning my way, I knew I was in deep shit. I had to haul ass out of there. Can't go back. I'll just bring more danger to everyone. Been trying to figure out a way out of this mess."
With a shock I realize he doesn't know. He's been holed up so deep, he hasn't been in touch with anyone, so there's no way he knows what happened to our parents. Carefully I test him, "Mal, you talk to anyone back home? Anyone know you're even alive?"
"Nah. You're the first person since I left, other than the chick at the gas station check out."
Shit.
"Brother. You missed some pretty bad news back home," I start carefully, and proceed to tell him about the fire, our mother and our waste of space of a father.
"A few days ago, my girlfriend was run off the road and shot at. Gus and I, we want to go directly to the Duarte's and tell them our suspicions, but we need a name for the guy―the fucktard who burned down our house and almost took out my woman."
When I look up to where he is sitting, all the badass is gone from his posture. His gun laying harmless beside him, his knees are drawn up to his chest and his arms around folded around him. The ink-black hair he never cut off is draped around his shoulders.
"Gonna kill that son of a bitch."
"Get in line little brother."
"What do you want me to do?"
The defeat is now evident in his voice and even though this is what I was waiting for, it kills me to see him like this.
"Come with me. Let me keep you safe and away from law enforcement for now – at least federal law enforcement – until we can come up with a way to stop this endless clusterfuck."
Finally, he stretches his long legs, jumps down in the kiva with me and unlocks the cuffs.
"You think she suffered?" he looks at me and I don't want to give him an answer, but he sees it in my eyes anyway. Although he is almost taller than I am, I pull him into a firm embrace and feel the full weight of his guilt leaning against me. Fuck.
Making our way back to Neil's truck, Mal starts questioning me about Katie.
"So... girlfriend?"
I chuckle, "Whatever they call it. She's mine, I'm hers. End of story."
"That serious huh? Fuck man, at forty-two? Now you're gonna change your ways?" Mal shoves my shoulder like he used to do to get a rise out of me when we were younger.
"Not changing any ways, little brother. I was never a man-whore like you. Anyway, with a bit of luck you'll meet her soon. We're gonna try and find a way to get you into town without anyone knowing you're around, but at least you'll be close by."
By the time we get to Neil's old truck Mal has already agreed the better option is to leave his truck where it is; hidden from view behind an old shed on a service road not to far from the parking lot. The sun is getting low in the sky and I know Katie is going to be frantic with worry by now. Fuck I hate this. I pull the phone from my pocket and see I have two bars. I immediately dial and wait for a connection. Nothing. The damn thing goes to message. An uneasy feeling crawls over my skin.
"No answer?" Mal asks, waiting by the truck. I just shake my head as I immediately dial Neil's number with the same damn result. Fuck! This doesn't make sense. I'm starting to sweat now and climb behind the wheel, motioning Mal to get the hell in as well, while I dial Gus. Finally, Emma picks up.
"Emma? Where's Gus?"
"Caleb? Are you ok? Oh my God, Caleb..."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The moment Blue is down, I see the outline of a man in the doorway. I don't think, I aim and shoot. I must've hit him, because he goes down, but not quietly. He's fucking howling like a pig. Keeping my gun trained on the front door, I yell out at Neil.
"Yo Neil! Status!"
"Down... Leg..." He sounds in pain, but pissed. Good. Pissed is good.
"Stay put, shoot anyone coming through that door."
"Fucking A."
I'm not even gonna try to get up. We have at least one other shooter out there, ‘cause there's no way in hell one person could've come from the back to the front door that fast, so I'm staying close to the ground. One hand, my ass, my heels, I use everything at my disposal to crawl toward Blue, while keeping my gun pointed to the front. Not fucking easy, but I'm not gonna take chances. From behind I'll hear; Neil will make sure of that, from the front will be to fast for me to react. No one is gonna fucking take me out today.
By the time I reach Blue the son of a bitch's yowling in my doorway has reduced to whimpering. I place my hand on Blue's side and am relieved beyond belief to feel a fairly strong rise and fall of his chest. Alive. Quickly wiping a tear trickling down my cheek that I don't have the time for now, I lean over and mumble in his ear, "You hang in there, beautiful boy. I'm gonna get you help."
I'm almost to the front door, at level with the elevator door when I hear the crunch of footsteps on the gravel out front. Crud. I have no time to get myself into the bedroom so I reach behind me and with my fingers wedge open the door to the elevator. I reluctantly slip my gun in my waistband, curl my hands around the frame behind me and with all the strength left in me, pull my body into the dark space.
I hit the bottom of the elevator shaft with a big smack and it takes a minute for my head to stop ringing. Fuck me. Forgot about that. They'd had to dig down the shaft to make room for the elevator car and had just finished pouring the floor. Dayum. I think that was five or six feet down and I'm lucky I didn't break anything. At least I don't think so. My hand automatically checks the small of my back to see if my gun survived the fall and it is still safely tucked in my waistband. Thank God for that. I wouldn't be able to find a damn thing in here; it's pitch black. Ears tuned in to see if I could pick up any movement outside, I slide over until I find a wall and sit with my back against it. The remaining daylight outside is creeping through the crack left in the door opening and my eyes are able to pick up a bit more of my surroundings, such as they are. I can still hear the whimpering of the dickwad who shot my dog, but other than that there is no sound whatsoever. Not happy with my rather passive situation, I manage to work myself to my feet. Not an easy task, and with my ass and back to the wall, I shuffle my way along the wall to where I can see the light filter in. I'm hoping I can reach up enough to see along the floor to the front door.
The sudden ringing of a phone startles me so hard; I almost drop my gun, which has been back in my hand the moment I was on my feet. A loud cursing from inside tells me I'm not the only one taken by surprise.
"Katie?" A voice comes from outside this time. And again, "Katie? Neil? Stay down, fuckface. Move and you're done." The last I'm sure was directed at my friend by the door. Apparently the cavalry has arrived.
"Gus, head's up! There's a second shooter out there," I call out as I hear him moving through the house.
"Where the hell are you Katie? Jesus Christ, Neil."
"Is he ok? In the elevator shaft. I'm here!" I'm about to pound the bottom of the door with the butt of my gun when the door swings open and Gus looks down.
"This is fucked up. You're all bleeding. Let me get you up. We've gotta tend to Neil. Jesus Katie, and your dog... J
oe is on his way. No sign of a second shooter and the fucker at the door has a hole where his dick used to be. Your work?" he asks as he grabs my arms and pulls me right up and out of the hole. With one arm around my waist and one under my knees he scoops me up and deposits me in my chair, which is still sitting in the kitchen. I hurry around the island to find Neil half sitting against the wall beside the shattered sliding glass door with his belt tied around his thigh, close to his groin, head rolled to one side. He's lost a massive amount of blood.
"Normally I'd say elevate that leg, but the way he's sitting with that tourniquet around his leg, it seems to have stopped the blood flow. You're probably better off leaving him," I suggest to Gus.
"Gonna check in with Joe, see where they're at. And you better see if you still have an open line on yours, I hung up when I got here."
I find Neil's phone on the floor in the kitchen and press end, putting it on the counter beside mine. Just then, Joe and two sheriff's deputies come through the front door.
Not ten minutes later, Neil is loaded in the ambulance on his way to Cortez Memorial where and we're following in Gus's Yukon where I'm holding a barely breathing Blue on my lap on our way to the emergency veterinarian clinic, holding a towel against a hole in his shoulder. Already his breathing is much shallower than it was the first time I checked and I'm terrified we'll lose him.
The EMT wanted me to come to the hospital to get checked out. Some of the stitches in my head have come loose and he's concerned I may have hurt myself when I fell. No shit, Sherlock, but those stitches were gonna come out anyway and unless I was missing a limb, this dog needs attention first.
"Emma? They'll be ok, darlin'" Gus answers his phone when it rings just once.
"Why'd he call there? ... Fuck, of course, I had an open line. It must've forwarded to the home phone. Come to think of it, one of theirs was busy as well; the other rang just as I approached the barn. Lemme call him right now." When Gus looks at me in the rear-view mirror I already know what he's gonna tell me and tears of relief start running down my face. Caleb was okay.
Un-fucking-believable.
I'm already almost out of Moab, tearing down the road in Neil's shit bucket. Malachi tries to ask questions but I can't fucking handle questions right now, so all I say is, "Bad fucking trouble at home," to shut him up. I don't wanna hear it.
"Hello?"
"They're all accounted for. Neil's shot, Katie's scraped up, the dog saved her life but he's barely hanging on. Everyone is en route to emergency care in Cortez. I know what you want, my friend, and I get it. But for all of our sakes stick with the plan so we can end this shit."
"Gotta see my girl, Gus."
"Asking you to trust me, Caleb. I've got her for you. You get Mal sorted and stay in touch. Wanna talk to her?"
Some rustling as Gus hands the phone over and the next I know my girl is sniffling on the other side.
"Ah, little one–"
"He ran out in front of me, Caleb," she sobs in the phone, "caught a bullet that was meant for me. Not even a hesitation."
"He's a good dog, babe. The best," I try to soothe her, grateful as hell for that rangy mutt.
"Shot the fucker, though. Fucker may not be an appropriate name for him an longer though," she chuckles through her tears.
"Why's that?"
"Remember that issue I had with my aim at the range? Well, I still have it."
After an extremely tense and stressful day, followed by ten minutes of my life I'd rather never repeat, the burst of laughter that explodes from the pit of my stomach feels fantastic.
"Ya hit his groin?" I ask when I can manage to get a word out.
"Annihilated his jewels, more like it," she deadpans, with a little snicker.
I can see Mal shaking his head beside me, a smile on his face.
"Atta girl, Yázhí. Atta girl. Gonna be there as soon as I can. We've just gotten on the road and I'll be another two hours at least."
"Do what you do, Caleb Whitetail. I'll be here when you're done. Love you."
"Back at you, sweets. Love you too."
When I hang up, I can feel Mal's scrutiny. Wow, he mouths. Smartass.
"She killed his dick? And this is your girlfriend? Fuck man, can't wait to meet this one," he chuckles.
"Better watch yourself too. Even from her chair, she could whip your ass." I tell him with a grin.
"Chair?"
Right. He wouldn't know, in fact, neither of us knows much about the other's life these days. Only what we think we do. We may as well spend the next two hours stuck in this rattling shit box getting reacquainted.
By the time I have Malachi safely settled in with the burner phone and one of the trackers Neil stuck on me, now wedged between the heel and sole of his boot, I finally head back in the direction of Cortez. Gus already called to say they had taken Blue into surgery and he'd had to virtually drag Katie out of there to get her looked over at the hospital.
He's waiting for me in the lobby when I drive up, eager to get going.
"Quick briefing and I'm off, but I'm relieved as fuck to see you in one piece. Things got hairy for a while there with you out of reach." Gus motions for me to sit, but I'm too wired.
"Malachi needed a bit of convincing," is all I share for now, not wanting a lengthy discussion.
"Fair enough, we'll get details later."
Like hell. Not sure I'm gonna volunteer how my little brother took me down and have it held over my head at every opportunity.
"The guy Katie castrated is alive and been flown to Durango with Lifeline and in surgery. Irks me that taxpayers are spending money on a douche like that, but whatever. Not a coherent word from him and no ID yet, but he's not our Mexican friend. He's Caucasian. Second shooter who was gone before I got there, apparently was picked up by one of the patrol vehicles coming in after Joe when he shot out of a back road into the Ute reservation. Looks like he'd been waiting there for all emergency vehicles to pass before making his escape and missed one. Some scared as shit punk kid off the street with a large scope rifle beside him. I'm off to the sheriff's office, where Joe has him waiting for questioning. I want in on that."
"What about Neil?"
"Jesus, he's lost a lot of blood, but that kid is tough. He's in surgery here and Emma is on her way in. I've called the office in Grand Junction as well. Dana's like a mother to him. She was gonna leave right away. Doc says he'll be ok. Nicked his femoral artery but the little fucker managed to tie himself off so good he didn't bleed out. Katie is livid with him; he made her believe it was 'just' a leg shot. She never saw."
This has taken way too long already and I'm fucking antsy as shit to get to my girl.
"Thanks man, but I gotta go see her now. Where?"
With a smile and a finger pointed in the right direction Gus slaps me on the back and without another word I take off to find her.
The room has three bays, all with the curtains drawn and I don't know which one she is behind.
"You're late..." I hear the smile in her voice and following it to the curtain on the far left.
"How did you know it was me?" I want to know as I pull back the curtain and take her in; covered in dirt and scrapes, with a fresh trickle of blood down the side of her head and her eyes red rimmed. But beautiful and bright smiling and so very fucking alive.
"I feel you," she says simply, and I kick off my boots, climb into the stupid little bed and wrap myself around her. I feel her too―everywhere.
After a few minutes of just breathing her in, I ask her about the events at the barn and I tell her about my day with Malachi. We don't let go, staying wrapped up together and whispering quietly as if we were just catching up on our days.
The clearing of a throat has me look up―straight into the smiling face of Naomi.
"Well, well, well," she says to Katie, "I see you picked up an extra blanket."
Katie sticks her tongue out, only making Naomi laugh out loud.
"Get your own hot guy, girlfriend."
"You guys are keeping me too busy here. And besides, every time I turn around, another one is off the market. So unfair."
Stretching, I reluctantly let go of Katie, but if they're gonna be talking about guys, I'm gonna find a coffee.
"Don't leave yet, Romeo," Doc holds me up, "I'm actually glad you're here. With Katie coming in banged up, again,” she says with a pointed look at the patient, “And with her taking a six foot tumble down an elevator shaft, I decided it was probably a good time to get some confirmation on a question we had floating around last time you were in here already.”
Katie knows just as well what Naomi is talking about as I do, guessing from the death grip of her hand around mine.
"Go on, we're ready," I urge her on.
With a little bit of trepidation showing on her face, unsure how we're going to take the news, she says, "It's positive. You're pregnant."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
"That was Sergeant Teva from the Grand Junction PD," Joe says after hanging up the phone. “The little creep in our cell as well as the eunuch – courtesy of Katie here – are well known thugs to her. Never thought we'd come full circle, but apparently Brian Crowe's name and picture raised a flag when it popped up on her feed this morning, combined with the description of our injured perp, she is convinced that's his buddy Rolf Baird. Brian has a sheet with mostly small time stuff, nothing too disturbing, which may have been why he got cold feet, but Rolf is a different story. He's been in for two counts of assault and is suspected in the death of a prostitute last year. Lack of evidence has ground that investigation to a halt. These are local boys to Grand Junction though. She's confused as to what they would be doing all the way in Cedar Tree, unless they were sent out there. She'll beat the bushes today and get back to me if she finds anything out. Says to say hi."