by Debra Kayn
"Soon after we arrived, we realized that we were being held captive in that room. Days later, a man speaking Spanish would come and get us, one by one, never all together. He'd take each of us to a barn within walking distance of that room. He taught us how to take care of dogs." He clasped his hands together and leaned his elbows on his knees. "It was probably a month after we'd arrived that our chores involved prepping the dogs for fighting. We learned that every dog had a breaking point and it was up to us to find it. We learned how to instigate fights when the dogs weren't willing. We created canine killers."
"Oh, my God," she whispered. "You were only a boy."
He'd never been a boy. Being raised in a group home, he'd quickly gone from child to man at a young age.
"I led you to believe that I got my scars doing construction. These were all from dog bites from when they attacked us." He rolled up his sleeve and ran his fingers over the raised areas filled with scar tissue. "We've all got scars on our arms and legs from the work they forced us to do."
Mark returned and handed Anders a drink. He put his nose to the tumbler and then drank. Whiskey wouldn't make it any easier to tell his story, but his mouth was dry.
"During the two years that we were kept captive, our involvement with the dogs escalated. The men were pitting us against the dogs in the ring, and people were betting on who would be able to walk out at the end of the fight alive We knew the amount of money people were using to bet on the winner in the ring that we would all eventually die there." He stared down into the amber-colored drink. "So, when we trained the dogs, we trained ourselves. We became stronger. At seventeen years old, we each had a full-grown adult body, but it was our minds we needed to toughen up. In the meantime, we kept being forced into the ring to fight with the dogs."
He looked up, hoping Iliana understood what he couldn't say. Only one person or dog walked away a winner. The fights would go on for hours until there was a death. Exhaustion, injuries, fear, never stopped the entertainment that hundreds came to view and bet on the outcome.
"The day they took Joney to the ring, he...he'd begged us to help him. Out of all of us, he was the youngest, the smallest." Emotions roughened his voice. He could barely get the words past his throat. "We'd all agreed that when Joney returned, we'd jump the escort and have a chance to escape. That night, it was Joney, who had never been the first to go in the ring before. While he was gone, we prepared ourselves to attack the man who brought him back, and while the door was open, we'd escape, and that's what we did. I beat the man to death while the others held him down, and then we ran. Except, we couldn't leave Joney there. We'd promised each other that it was all of us or none of us."
He looked up and met Iliana's eyes. She no longer cried but stared at him caught up in the story. He couldn't read what thoughts passed through her as he explained what led up to her being forced up on the mountain. If she was scared, disgusted, or sick of him, she never showed it.
"I-I told them to keep running, and I'd stay back to find Joney." He swallowed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The back door had opened as I tried to peer inside. I plastered myself against the building so as not to be seen, and the men...they tossed a body out like a dirty towel."
He stood. Throughout the years, he had never told the others what he'd seen. They had no idea the condition of Joney's face that day. They hadn't seen the damage done by the dogs. He couldn't put that image on them. He couldn't put his nightmare onto Iliana.
"It was Joney. He hadn't survived the dogfight." He inhaled deeply. "So, I ran. And, every day since I've wished my head could forget what my eyes had seen."
He downed the rest of the whiskey. His chest tremored. He couldn't go on.
Mark walked around the couch and leaned his elbow on top of the fireplace mantle beside Anders, bringing the attention around to him. He nodded, needing to catch his breath.
"We agreed that if we got split up—which happened—we'd all meet in the Bitterroot Mountains. It took us several years to get here, mainly because when we ran, we had no idea that we'd been taken over the border into Mexico. But, we all made back across the border and found our way up into Montana." Mark's gruff voice came out harsher than normal.
"Over the years, we each moved on with our lives. When it seemed like we'd left our past behind, something would come up that reminded us that we'd killed someone trying to escape." Quint sat on the back of the couch. "Anders takes the blame for the initial murder, but we were all there. We all held the man down. We're all responsible."
"Over the years, more men came after us to try and keep us quiet about what we'd lived through or maybe they wanted retaliation for the man we beat to death. Whatever their reason is, we're all responsible for killing the men who came after us in Montana, too," said Mark quietly
Iliana watched each one of them, never interrupting or questioning. Even to him, their story sounded damaging. He and the others were admitting to crimes they'd never spoken of to anyone else. She held all of their future in her hands, and while it wasn't his intentions to put that weight on her shoulders, she deserved an explanation on why Mac had almost killed her out in the cold.
"I was shot about nine months ago." Mark paused. "Anders was grazed by someone shooting at him. Quint's employee was murdered, and a dog was killed and left beside the body. And, you know about Will's accident."
"Was it Mac?" she whispered. "Was he behind everything?"
Feeling responsible because he'd hired Mac and put him in a position of being responsible for her safety while he was working, Anders said, "The men after us paid Mac to take you up on the mountain to distract us while they went after...went after Two-crow. Being set up, Mac realized what he'd done and jumped off the edge of the cliff. He's dead."
Iliana looked down at her hands. He gave her the time to come to terms with everything they'd told her.
"There are two men out of the six still alive who are responsible for kidnapping us and running the dogfights. We believe they're after us because we can point the fingers at the crimes they committed. If we're gone, they won't get caught." Anders rotated his shoulders. The fatigue of getting everything out in the open hit him hard.
There was nothing for her if she stayed with him. His life at Stone Lair now a bad memory for her.
"I'd like to ask you that if you go to the police, that you only implicate me and leave the others out of it," said Anders.
He would pay the punishment for what he'd done. If she needed to make things right and feel safe, he would take responsibility because he loved her.
"Wh-where is Two-crow?" She pulled the blanket up higher around her waist.
"This morning, after Dr. Warner left you, he called an ambulance and had him transported to the hospital where they will...they probably have already declared him dead. Doc is going to sign his death certificate to cover up how he died." Anders closed his eyes briefly, unable to face the last twenty-four hours.
"He knows about all this? Dr. Warner, I mean?
Anders swallowed the bitter truth that he'd used others to make sure his past remained buried. "He knows about the attacks on us. He doesn't know the reason why."
"I don't understand," she mumbled. "He's a doctor. He's supposed to report crimes to the police."
Maybe because of the doctor's age of sixty night or that he had a sixth sense about activities in the Bitterroot Mountains or he enjoyed the money Anders handed over to keep him quiet, Dr. Warner had proven to be loyal.
Iliana studied him. He held her gaze. She would judge him, and he had to let her. He'd given her nothing about him to love.
Whatever decision she made, he loved her regardless of what she chose to do.
Her head tilted. "Are you okay?"
No. He'd never be okay. Joney and now Two-crow's death sat on his shoulders. Iliana's near-death experience was from him not protecting her. He couldn't change his past or the life he'd been forced to live.
"I'm scared of losing you," he said.
S
he lowered her gaze to her hands. "I just...I need to be alone if that's okay."
His world pressed in on him. He stood and motioned for the others. "We'll go to the office. Yell if you need anything."
He stepped toward her, forced himself to turn away before touching her, and walked out of the room with the others. It was the hardest twenty feet he'd ever taken.
Watching her on the widescreen in the office as she cried for an hour broke his heart and left all three of them sitting in silence, feeling the unbearable pain of their life through Iliana.
Chapter 43
Sofia, Mom, and Dad, hurried through the door into Anders' private quarters. Iliana walked slowly into their waiting arms. She couldn't stop the tears from falling.
"My baby," her mother soothed, holding her tightly.
Sofia kissed Iliana's cheek. "How are your feet?"
"Better." She sniffed, stretching to hug her dad. "You guys really didn't need to make the trip here. I told you I'm going to be okay. No lasting effects. Dr. Warner said once the skin around my toes finishes peeling, I'll be back to normal."
She led them over to the couch and sat between her mom and sister. Part of her wanted her family around her, and another part wanted to hide away and ignore what she'd gone through and learned. She hadn't talked to her family about Anders or the real reason she suffered from being up on the mountain.
They'd assumed a snow storm snuck up on them while they were outdoors, preventing her from seeking shelter, and she'd left it to that explanation over the phone.
Her mom picked up Iliana's hand, inspecting the fingers that were chapped and tender. "I want to see your feet."
"I'm not showing you my feet." She leaned against her mom. "I'm fine. I promise."
Her dad grunted. "I don't understand why Anders would allow you to go out in freezing weather without being properly clothed. You've got a snowsuit, don't you?"
"Of course, she does," her mom interjected. "We bought her and Sofia a ski jacket and pants a couple years ago when they wanted to learn how to snowboard."
"Except, we both sucked at boarding." Sofia crossed her legs. "I've only worn mine once. I couldn't even tell you where the clothes are."
"Probably in the back of your closet." Iliana wanted to change the subject. "How's the motorhome?"
"Right now, we're planning a big week-long trip for this spring. We're going to Glacier National Park," said Sofia.
A door opened at the other end of the building. Iliana looked over her shoulder and found Anders standing outside his office door. Though she needed this time with her family, she motioned him into the living room.
His gaze intensified. Over the last five days, he'd given her plenty of space. Too much space.
He'd stopped talking about what happened the night on the mountain, and at times she wondered if she'd imagined him telling her about his past. Some parts so unbelievable to her because of the differences in how they were raised, she couldn't imagine a child, any child, surviving in such conditions. Knowing what kind of man Anders had become despite the abuse and trauma, made her admire him for what he'd built in his life.
"Mr. and Mrs. Teel. Sofia." Anders strode into the room and shook Iliana's dad's hand. "It's good to see you all again."
"How's business?" asked her dad.
"Can't complain." Anders gazed at Iliana. "Can I order lunch for you all?"
"Oh, that's not necessary." Her mom smiled, beaming her pleasure.
Iliana nodded. She wanted her parents to stay and enjoy Stone Lair. To experience and see how much Anders had done to create a space in such a rural area for locals and those passing through the area.
"Not necessary, but my pleasure." Anders put his hand on her dad's shoulder. "Give the chef a half hour, and then you all can go down and enjoy a meal."
"Can you sit down and eat with us?" Iliana looked at him, joining in on pretending everything was okay.
"It's not a good day for me to get away. I have work to do." Anders stepped over and kissed her forehead. "Don't walk around too much."
Then, he left.
Sofia sighed beside her. "He loves you."
He did.
She had no doubt.
But, he wasn't a man living a normal life. He came with baggage that overwhelmed her and had her wondering where she stood when it came to the law. She'd spent every hour since learning about Anders past and how he'd lived through the years contemplating if she could accept his crimes or if she'd forever judge him.
She loved him but loving him was like committing her life to a drug addict. There would always be danger surrounding him. There would always be someone trying to steal him from her. There would always be the chance that she could lose him.
Losing him scared her more than anything.
She couldn't imagine moving forward with her life without him in it. Just the thought caused her anxiety, and she wanted to fight for him.
ILIANA AND HER FAMILY sat in the bar after finishing their meal. Anders lingered behind the counter after handing out the new schedules—something Mac usually did. He watched for any sign that Iliana confided in her family about his past.
He wouldn't stop her from telling them the truth or going to the police.
He'd prepared himself for the possibilities after he'd called her father to let him know about Iliana's injuries. If he had a daughter, he would want to know if something happened to her.
Someone needed to look after Iliana. She couldn't face everything she'd gone through alone.
Over the last several days, she'd grown quiet, breaking out in tears when she thought he wasn't around. He'd kept an eye on her through the security cameras, but he needed to do more and had called on her family hoping they could give her the support she needed.
A group of five men entered the bar. Anders stiffened, looking them over. If Jaster could get to Mac and take his loyalty away, it was possible than anyone walking into his establishment could be working for his enemy.
He hated not knowing who came to start trouble and who came for the entertainment. Two of the men broke away from the others and headed toward Iliana's table. Anders rounded the counter and strode across the room in time to hear them ask if she was singing that weekend. She glanced over at him and spoke quietly with the men.
He had no idea what she told them. All his concentration went to the men's hands in case they went for a weapon.
Several minutes later, the men turned, excused themselves when they came up against Anders and went to join their buddies. Left standing by the table, he connected with Iliana. Her gaze softened in understanding and he hated that she commemorated with him over the added tension they both felt.
He wanted to be more for her and give her the security of enjoying the Lair, talking with her fans, being with him while he worked without any worry.
"How was your meal?" he asked.
"It was awesome, as usual." Iliana smile never reached her eyes, and that was on him.
His chest tightened, wishing her experience with him could remain the same. "If you need anything else, let Kendra know."
He left them to enjoy their time together and walked over to the casino. Until he decided on whether to train someone to be his new manager, he would be doing more hands-on tasks within the Lair.
Or, until Iliana went to the police and informed them of his past. Then, he'd be sitting in prison.
He took the schedules for the dealers out of his pocket and left them behind the tables for the employees to pick up. Knowing it was almost time for the kitchen delivery to come, he headed toward the back door.
Stepping outside, he breathed in the cold, fresh air when his cell vibrated. He picked up the call after seeing Dr. Warner's name come on the screen.
"Doc," he said.
"I've received word from the crematory that the ashes are ready for pickup."
A wave of pain went through Anders. He stared out at the trees. The spot Two-crow had in his life would always remain empty.
Dr. Warner had signed the death certificate for Two-crow, further hiding his murder, and set it up for the body to be sent to the funeral home where Will had gone in and paid to have Two-crow cremated—per the Native American tradition that Two-crow desperately searched for in his life and had never found.
"I believe they close at five o'clock," said Dr. Warner.
"I'll pick him up," he said quietly. "Thanks again for all that you've done."
He disconnected the call and inhaled deeply. Unprepared to lay to rest Two-crow, he'd need to get together with the others and discuss what they wanted to do. With no family of his own, they were Two-crow's closest people.
They'd need to decide in the next day or two on how to put Two-crow to rest, in case he found himself in handcuffs again.
Chapter 44
"Anders?" Iliana looked in the bedroom, the kitchen, and in the living room. "Are you in here?"
Silence answered her.
She plopped down on the couch. Her family had left an hour ago, and she'd been looking for Anders ever since.
He should've joined them for lunch. There was no reason for him to keep to himself. She'd watched him pretending to stay busy while hanging close to her, and she understood what he was doing. It wasn't necessary for him to protect her when she was surrounded by family.
While she'd appreciated him giving her time to think things over, she never meant for him to stay away from her or not help her talk through the different feelings going through her head. Even in bed lately, he'd held back from touching her, afraid of hurting her or bumping her feet.
The pain was nothing like the hurt he was going through alone as he mourned Two-crow. But, he refused to let her share that with him.
Rolling her head along the back of the couch, she spotted a plume of smoke float past the window. She stood, took the first two uncomfortable steps until her feet adjusted to her shoes and walked to the door. The knob turned easily in her hand.