by Maira Dawn
Skye hauled in a long, shuddering breath, as her heart exploded with pity, sorrow and rage.
Her vision became murky. Her chest ached, and soon fury was the only emotion she felt. She had never felt true rage before, certainly nothing close to this.
It fueled her as she stormed toward Frankie.
"Stop. Wait," Dylan hissed behind her, "I said stop!" The air stirred beside Skye's shoulder as his hand missed catching her.
Skye would not be stopped. She had fought for children her whole life from a chair, an office. Now she was face to face with the abuse, she would fight harder. Her muscles tightened, alert and ready.
Focused on whipping his son, Frankie was unaware of the trio invading his home. He raised the belt for another blow, twisting it in his fist as he sought a firmer grip.
Without conscious thought, Skye moved in.
Stepping behind Frankie, Skye reached up as his grip loosened on the band. The strap cracked against her palm. She gasped in pain but managed to wrap her fingers around the leather strip. Skye yanked it from Frankie's grasp.
Quicker than Skye would have imagined possible, she turned and pulled a startled Jesse from the floor. She grabbed his hand and ran, dragging him beside her. She didn't get far.
Surprised, but always ready for a fight, Frankie swung toward her. His muscles bunched, and his angry face reddened as the man launched himself at Skye.
One of his hands seized the back of her neck. Another went around her waist. His fingers gouged the soft area under her ribs.
Rage still boiled Skye's blood, but now panic edged it as Frankie yanked her backward. Skye gasped and reacted. Frankie's belt was still in her hand. She gripped it so fiercely the leather edges curled.
Skye released Jesse and let Frankie pull her in. Then she turned and raised her arm high. With every bit of anger and strength she had, Skye lashed the leather strap at him.
Buckle end hit Frankie full in the face. The crunch of bone and cartilage sounded around them. Blood poured from his nose and cheek, running down his neck.
Skye froze at the sight of what she had done.
Frankie fell back but was quick to regain his footing. He grabbed at Skye again.
Wade howled, “Move!" His voice reverberated on the bare walls. Skye responded. Turning toward the door, she pulled Jesse along with her.
She arched her back as Frankie's hand scraped across it.
"Come on, Jesse, run!" With wide eyes and shaking legs, Skye and Jesse made it to the front door where Dylan pushed them past the threshold. Skye shot a wild look up at him to find his eyes boring into hers.
Skye glanced over her shoulder. Dylan took several large steps, pushing his gun to Frankie's head as he growled, "Whoa, Whoa, Whoa! Ya better stop right there, if you know what's good for you."
Skye sagged with relief. They were safe.
22
The Temper of Dylan
As Skye and Jesse ran for the truck, the men stayed back to make sure Frankie wouldn't follow. Skye wasn't sure how they would do that until the sound of fists against flesh came from the house.
She hesitated as she reached toward Jesse's quaking body. Skye felt dizzy and numb. She couldn't imagine how the encounter affected him. Though Jesse didn't lean into her, he accepted her touch.
"It's okay now, Jesse. You're safe, it's all over," Skye said with a gentle whisper. His eyes wide, Jesse glanced back over his shoulder a few times. When he didn't see his father following, his shaking slowed.
With a bowed head, Jesse asked, "Are they beatin on my dad in there?"
Skye winced and shot a look toward the house. "I believe they are."
"Can't say I’m sorry about it."
Skye brushed the hair from his eyes. "You don't have to be. Not today."
After getting him settled in the truck's cab, Skye stood on the running boards and fished around the truck bed for her backpack. It held a first aid kit, food, and water. She had packed it for any need Jesse would have.
Of course, it had to be in the middle, covered with camping supplies. Spying a strap, Skye grasped it and pulled. When she almost slipped from her perch, she grabbed onto the side of the truck to steady herself.
Busy at her task, Skye heard vague "Hey!", but paid no attention to it.
"I said Hey!" Dylan said louder as he stormed toward her.
Skye twisted toward him, her heart sinking when she saw his angry face.
"What is wrong with you, girl?"
Unable to avoid facing him, Skye raised her eyes to meet Dylan's turbulent dark blue stare. Uh-oh.
Skye teetered uncertainly on the running board. Dylan reached out and grabbed her arm. When she stumbled backward, he took her other one. With his hands wrapped tight around both Skye’s upper arms, he set her down and righted her causing a flicker of a memory.
She glanced at his face. As angry as he was, she had expected him to be rougher. Just as quick as he had put his hands on her, they were gone.
Skye licked her dry lips. "What do you--."
"What kinda half-wit, fool-hardy move was that?" Dylan scowled at Skye. Her thoughtless actions could have put them all in danger if the situation had been any different.
Still agitated after the encounter with Frankie, Dylan's angry words irritated Skye. Besides that, now she was on the ground, he seemed to tower over her. She didn't like that, the way he tried to use his size to intimidate her. She took a step back only to bump into the vehicle. "Excuse me?"
"Did ya not hear me in there?" His arm made a wide arc at the house. "I said stop. Did ya hear me say stop?"
"Please, I don’t want to upset Jesse.“ Skye said as she nodded Jesse's way. She took a few steps to the back of the truck with Dylan on her heels. She needn’t have worried. Jesse would hardly think this qualified as an argument.
Skye took a breath and smoothed her face as she began her explanation. "Yes, but I couldn't stop. I had too--"
Again, Dylan interrupted her, his accent thickening the angrier he became. He laid a hand on the tailgate beside her and snarled, "Ya got any clue what coulda happened in there? To Jesse? To you? Ya don't know nothin. When I say somethin, ya listen."
The man's indignation caused her anxiety to build. But something bold and strong flickered in Skye. She pushed herself to her tiptoes and said, "Um, excuse me but no! I needed to get Jesse out of there. That is all I thought about, and I'd do it again."
Thrown by her resistance, Dylan's eyes widened, and he stepped back. Dylan narrowed his eyes. "Ya asked for help, then ignore what I say. What ya did was dangerous!"
“All I asked from you was a ride!"
"You need a lot more'n a ride, lady!" Dylan's breath fanned across her face before he made an abrupt turn and headed for the cab. He tipped his head toward the truck and threw out one last order over his shoulder. "Ya better get your tail on that seat 'fore I leave ya."
Skye rolled her eyes behind his back as she moved toward the front of the vehicle. She ran a hand down the red truck as she walked, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself.
She had dealt with angry people many, many times. If the children weren't angry, their parents often were. It was her job to be the calm in the center of the storm. Or sometimes storms. And let's count them today. One, two, three.
Skye glanced at Dylan as she moved to the passenger's side, her stomach still knotted from their encounter. He is the owner of one very quick, boiling temper. It surprised him I didn't fold at once. A lot of people must bend to the temper of Dylan.
It wasn't the only thing she'd noticed about him and his brother. As glad as she was for their help, their faults were piling up against them. The two large men were loaded with weapons and anger issues.
That is frightening in a normal world, and nothing is normal now. I don't know these men, I only met them a couple hours ago! They could be capable of anything. This just doesn't work, especially given Jesse's fragile state. Skye bit her cheek and calmed her nerves by reminding herself that she and Je
sse would be on their way soon. This time tomorrow, we'll be sitting on Mom and Dad's back porch sipping tea.
As Skye got in the truck, Dylan sat in the driver's seat picking at his battered hands. He ignored her as she settled herself beside Jesse. She looked away. She wanted to use the men’s beating of Frankie as more evidence in her case against them, but she knew that wasn't fair.
Dylan had gotten those bloody knuckles helping her. Her only emotions were relief he had been there and guilt he was hurt saving her and Jesse.
Skye set her backpack between her feet and reached in it. "Here, I have a small med kit. Do you want something from it?"
"No."
Skye looked from Dylan to the kit and back again. He was clearly still steaming. In fact, he was tearing at the skin of his hands with more force since she'd spoken to him. Man, can I say or do nothing right for this guy? Skye gently laid the first aid kit on the dashboard and turned to pile a few items of food between her and Jesse.
Wade's head popped in through the back window to the bed of the truck, where he was settling in for the ride. His hungry gaze took in Skye's moderate offering.
"Hey, watcha got there?" he said. "A little food? I could use some." It surprised Skye that she could tense any further, but she did. His voice needled her.
"I'm getting food out for Jesse," she said. Her words came sharper and quicker than she intended. For some reason she didn't yet understand, Wade annoyed her.
"You got something for me?"
No. You wanted to leave Jesse there. She avoided looking at Wade and continued to pile stuff on the bench. “Sure.”
"Good," he said, as he reached down to her pile and rifled through it.
Skye pushed Wade's hand away from the packages. "Let Jesse choose first."
"Sure thing." Wade accepted her request and waited until Jesse took one, then grabbed a handful and pulled them up through the window. He uttered a loud, long laugh at his haul and Skye’s obvious displeasure.
"That was a lot!" Skye said.
"Are you really gonna hold back on us? After everything we helped you with? Truckin ya all the way over here? Helping with the boy and all?"
"You didn't want to help."
Wade hung his head. "I did. It's just—Well, nobody ever helps with that sort of thing."
"If that is the case, then they are wrong." Her eyes flashed with the fire of her conviction. "Everyone should help with that sort of thing."
"So, you want your food back?"
She sighed, upset now more with herself than him. Wade was right, most people avoided helping with domestic situations. But there was no denying that in the end, he'd helped get Jesse, the least she could do is share a few snacks. "No, of course not. Take something if you're hungry. Give Dylan some too."
As Wade and Dylan snatched up the food, Skye scolded herself. Why do I let their high-handed attitudes get to me so much? It's not like I'll be with them much longer. I can handle it.
As the men devoured the food, she turned her attention to the boy. "Jesse, is there anything from the house you want or need?"
Decisive, he said, "Nah. I just want away."
"Are you sure? Nothing, Jesse? We may not be back for a while."
Dylan gave Skye a sidelong stare that said, "You think we're coming back here?” But it was important to leave that door open for Jesse. Skye didn't want him to get upset about leaving when that is what they needed to do.
"No, I ain't got nothin in there I want or need. The place is a dump." Jesse said.
Dylan tipped his head toward Jesse and gave him a wink while he gunned the truck. "We're gonna git gone then."
"Yeah!" Jesse replied with a small grin. Skye smiled. There is nothing like the sound of a loud engine to perk a boy right up.
As Dylan drove, Skye continued to fuss over Jesse asking whether anything felt odd or broken and if the old wounds had been healing well.
Jesse went along with all her questions until she pulled at the back of his shirt to look over any new cuts. He strongly objected and scooted from her. Skye stopped, but Jesse still kept his head tucked away from her.
Dylan spoke to Jesse in such a tender voice Skye looked at him in surprise.
"I know, boy," Dylan said, "I do. But you don't want them gettin infected. Let her look 'em over."
Perhaps because Dylan's usual way was to grind out words, his advice made an impression on Jesse. While he still didn't like it her examination, he no longer fought her.
Skye's heart hung in her chest as she examined Jesse's bruised and welted back. But she was happy to see most of the marks should disappear within a couple of weeks.
Dylan scrutinized every move Skye made tending Jesse. Clearly, this level of kind attention was something foreign to him. His eyes lingered on her soothing hand as it brushed back Jesse's hair, on the boy's small nods to her caring questions and on Jesse's content face when the boy laid his head against Skye's shoulder.
Once Jesse was quiet, Skye looked at Dylan from under her lashes. From the beginning, she'd known the men had a rough childhood. Their behavior, along with the numerous faded burn scars on their arms and shoulders from lit cigarettes, was a dead giveaway.
But the sadness in Dylan's eyes haunted her. He didn't know what it felt like to have someone love him enough to care for him. Skye wondered if his upbringing had been even more grim than she'd already assumed.
She watched the first aid kit rattle along the dash of the truck wishing she could turn back time and tend to his injuries.
23
Had To
Jesse raised his forehead from Skye's arm and wiggled back into his spot. Skye handed him a bottle of water. He drank a few sips. But when she gave Jesse the apple he'd chosen from the snack pile, he laid on the seat beside him. Skye picked it up and gave it back to him.
"I ain't hungry," Jesse said as he grimaced and pushed at his upset stomach.
Given everything that took place today, it didn't surprise her. But Jesse was so much thinner than the last time Skye had seen him, and it was hard to believe he wasn’t ravenous.
"Jesse, please eat something," she pleaded, "try a few bites."
Instead, Jesse changed the subject. He threw a suspicious eye at Dylan. "Who are you?"
Dylan eyed him back before the side of his mouth twitched. "Dylan. Dylan Cole."
"My dad knows you."
"Yep."
"He says you're a--"
Dylan coughed loudly. "Yeah, I know what he thinks. I don't see him all that different."
When Jesse continued to give Dylan a hard glare, Skye said, "Dylan's on your side, Jesse."
Jesse grunted and turned to Skye. He tilted his head to the side and asked, "Why d'ya come here?"
Skye shot him a glance before turning her gaze to the window and wished she would have let him continue interrogating Dylan. She tried to calm the tremors in her stomach. "You want to discuss this now? We can wait a little to do that if you'd like."
His brow creased as he gave a small shake of his head. "I wanna know now."
This was the moment Skye dreaded from the birth of her plan. Of course he would ask, and what does one tell an adolescent in this situation? Your dad is a no-account, excuse of a man. So I decided that I would take you away from him?
No matter what story she came up with, it didn’t sound credible, even to her. Skye released her lip from the hold her teeth had on it and cleared her throat. She stuck with the best she had. The truth.
"Remember my friend, Tricia, I told you about?" Skye said and Jesse nodded. "Well, her mom lives near you."
"Yeah. She makes the good pies."
"Yes, she does." Skye smiled. She'd tasted her baked goods. There was no doubt the boy was right. "Well, she got word to Tricia that you were in trouble here. And Tricia told me because I confided to her how important your welfare was to me. And it is, Jesse, it is so important." Skye's voice quivered the tiniest bit.
She peered at the blur of trees going by before looking
back at Jesse. "After she told me, I checked of all the options there were to get you out of that situation. But because of the sickness, all the normal ways of helping you were gone. I realized there was one option. Me. After everything we have been through, you and me, I had to get you away from there. No matter what." Hoping he wouldn't shy away from her in his current mood, Skye slowly brought her hand up and smoothed his thick hair.
Jesse's eyes tracked her hand, but he allowed it. Something eased in him when she stroked his hair. It soothed him.
"We've had this discussion before, Jesse." Skye’s voice came soft but determined. "I know Frankie is your dad, and you love him. But no one, and I mean no one, has any right to treat another person like that. Ever. And I wasn't able sit on my couch and be okay knowing what was happening to you. I had to come get you." Her eyes locked with his. "I hope you are good with that."
Jesse stared at the truck floor and mumbled to himself, "Don't know bout all that. Seems to me a lot of people think they can go beatin on others. But I know I don't like it." Jesse's brow crinkled again, and he said to Skye, "It was dangerous. You could've got hurt."
Skye's hand moved to sit lightly on Jesse's shoulder, as she locked eyes with him. "It didn't matter. I had to. I had to keep you safe."
Tears flooded Jesse's eyes as he acknowledged that someone cared enough to save him. She cared. Jesse lowered his head and scrubbed the tears away. He took the conversation in a new direction. "I've never seen you outside the office before. It's weird."
Skye smiled. "Yeah," she said, continuing to let him direct the discussion. She was content to know she had answered the question to his satisfaction. He was okay for now.
His gaze dropped, then he glanced out the window and hesitated. Hope tinging his voice, he said, "Am I living with you now then?"
Skye lowered her face to his. "Yeah, you're living with me now then."
Jesse gave her his small, lopsided grin, which was the best he ever did. "Yeah," he repeated.
Skye's face lit up. He was more than okay. He's good with it.