Montgomery Family 3: A Family Portrait

by J. J. Massa

  “Or you,” Jacob interrupted.

  Ashley turned to smile at her brother and then turned back to Mik. “You can smell friends and enemies. You can smell love and hate. But a mate is more than a smell—it’s a feeling inside you. Tav is Mama’s mate. I know mine.”

  Mik was more than astounded. He was flabbergasted. In a daze he made his way to the coffee pot and poured himself and the child a mug of coffee. He added milk to both cups and carried them to the table.

  “We came to find out how Tav is,” Jacob’s question, jerked him back to the present. “And we really ought to know who you are, shouldn’t we Ash?”

  “This stuff keeps you awake because it tastes awful, right?” Ashley sputtered, clearly new to the world of coffee drinkers.

  Mik grinned, shaking his head. He nudged the sugar toward her. If their mother was anywhere near as endearing as these pups, he knew he’d love her. The poor things had had so much to worry about in less than a decade.

  He knew Myles was outraged on Tav’s behalf about what he’d heard Tracey say to him. That warmed him because he knew it was the difference between pack-mates and brothers. A pack-mate would be mad but a brother would be injured.

  Mik was beginning to understand why Tracey had said the admittedly abhorrent things she’d said. She’d learned the hard way that even her instincts weren’t foolproof.

  “Is Tav dead?” Ashley asked point blank. “And who are you?”

  Once again, Mik had been woolgathering. “I’m sorry. I’m Mik Montgomery. Myles, Tav, Lakon, and Riker are all my boys. My grandsons call me Gandad. You can call me that too if you want.”

  The two kids looked at him for long seconds and then nodded. “What about Tav?” they asked together.

  “Tav was hurt and he lost some blood but he’ll live. He’s at the hospital where your mama was.”

  “We have to go before Mama wakes up,” Jacob said in a worried voice.

  “Ashley, you should probably change when you get home, honey.” Mik looked at her bloodstained clothing.

  “Mama saw me last night after Jacob and Christopher went to bed. She thought I was hurt so I told her it was Tav’s blood.” Her little voice wobbled. “I thought she was gonna stop breathing, she was crying so hard.”

  Mik watched as the girl stood and drank her coffee without pausing. “Are you okay, Ashley?” He moved over to her and scooped her against him with a large paw.

  “I don’t know why Mama said those mean things to Tav. She said she had to,” Ashley blurted into his fur, “I just know she won’t be okay if he doesn’t come back anyway.”

  The little girl was sobbing into his chest and he looked up and saw Jacob wobbling on the precipice. He held his paw out and the little boy ran to him putting one arm around his neck and the other around his sister. He held both children as they cried.

  As he comforted the sobbing children he considered their emotionally scarred mother along with the young man he loved like his own son. Jack Aschtholdt, or Jack Asshole as he preferred to think of him, had much to answer for. He hoped he’d get to put his jaws around that man’s neck someday.

  Eventually he sent Jacob and Ashley home, promising to talk to their mother later while keeping the secret of their early morning visit. First he called the hospital to check on his boys.

  He was assured that Riker was putting everyone through their paces and Myles and Tav were both resting comfortably. Myles had given Tav a large amount of blood. Mik had also donated plenty of blood to the cause before he’d come back to Tav’s house.

  * * * * *

  Tracey had been sorting through their things all morning. She didn’t want to move anything that she didn’t have to. They’d be on the run again and the less they took with them, the better.

  She’d weeded out clothes too small for Christopher and Ashley. There was a box on Jacob’s bed where she was putting things that were too small for the six year old. Christopher would grow into them.

  Jacob had asked her what she was doing and she’d told him she was spring-cleaning. Ashley had roused from her lethargy long enough to caution her mother to take it easy and not to overdo it.

  Tracey looked in on the kids when the phone rang. She’d kept Ashley home from school and she and her brothers were lying on the floor watching Sesame Street

  reruns. Even Christopher seemed subdued today.

  Turning, she answered the phone expecting a tele-marketer. She knew Tav wouldn’t call. She didn’t even know how he was.

  “Hello,” she said, thinking it would probably be a short call.

  “Hello, Tracey. This is Mik Montgomery. I wanted to give you a call and check on you.”

  “Oh, no! Is Tavist… Is he?” Tracey felt her throat close up. She was shaking like a leaf.

  “Its okay, Tracey. Calm down, Honey.” The deep baritone voice of Mik Montgomery was soothing and she felt herself relax a little.

  “Is he? Montgomery please, how is he?” she whispered.

  “He’ll be fine, Honey,” he soothed. “He lost some blood but he’ll probably be home by tomorrow.”

  “Thank God,” she breathed.

  “Tracey, you don’t sound like a woman who hates Tav because he’s a werewolf,” Mik observed.

  Although she was relieved that Tav would be okay, nothing else had changed. Thinking fast, Tracey scrambled for the right words to offend this nice man and his wonderful family.

  “You’re wrong, sir. I hate werewolves. Dog hair makes me sneeze.” She thought frantically, “And… and the flea and tick problem around the kids, I just can’t have that.” What else, damn, I’ve never had a dog… “Digging and chewing and chasing the neighbors’ cats. I just can’t have that sort of thing. It’s better this way. Just…” her voice cracked, “Take care of Tavist for me, please.”

  She hung up the phone and headed for the bathroom. Tav had been right—she really needed a master bathroom. Maybe their next house would have one.

  When her tears ended, she washed her face, looked in on the kids again, and booted up her computer. The rest of the afternoon she continued to prepare for moving and looked for places to go.

  * * * * *

  Mik hit the button on the speakerphone and looked at his three boys. Myles face was thunderous. He’d walked in just when Tracey had answered the phone. Tav’s eyes swam with tears. He was still pretty weak.

  “Dog hair doesn’t make her sneeze. Besides, she doesn’t even like cats…” Tav trailed off.

  “Maybe so, little brother,” Riker chuckled, “But, women hate it when you dig up their flowers and chew up their shoes.” He squeezed Tav’s shoulder.

  “Not to mention the ticks and fleas…” Mik rumbled a laugh.

  “Ashley wasn’t in school today,” Myles announced. “The school secretary asked me to tell Tracey that they could only forward Ashley’s records to another school.” He looked around the room, his mouth tight. “She’s going to have to talk to the School Board Superintendent if she wants them when she withdraws Ashley on Friday.”

  “Oh God,” groaned Tav. “She does hate me…”

  “Think about it, son,” growled Mik. “She’s leaving without a forwarding address. She thinks she’s hurt and offended you so bad that you’ll be glad to see her go.”

  “You’re not after her,” Riker reasoned, catching on. “She’s not running from you.”

  “Tonight I’ll take a look around and see what I can find out around her house,” Mik told them. “You get some sleep,” he said to Tav. “We need to bring you home by tomorrow morning.”

  “You should heal faster knowing that she really doesn’t hate you, mate,” Myles told him.

  Tav looked into his eyes. “You really don’t think she meant what she said?”

  “She’s your mate. Think about it.”

  Myles squeezed his shoulder and left the room. Riker joined him in the hall.

  Mik put his paws on the bed and leaned down to give Tav a lick on the forehead. “She told Ashley that s
he had to do it, Tav. She was hysterical when she realized you were hurt. She needs you, son. Those pups need you.” He butted foreheads with him and left the room.

  In the hallway, Riker and Myles were chatting quietly. “I don’t think we can track down that ex-husband without Tracey’s help,” Mik said, interrupting them. “Maybe we should try anyway though,” he mused. “Riker what do you think? Myles? I’m sure he’s at the root of all this.”

  “I agree that he’s the problem but the kids are unclear about where he is exactly. Ashley says he moved from one jail to another and now her mum just tries to make sure he can’t find them,” Myles informed them somberly. “Riker’s going to toddle on home and round up the troops,” he finished with a shrug.

  “I’ll just return that rental car at the airport when I go. I won’t need a ride. I’ll tell Mom what’s going on,” Riker spoke finally. “I just want everyone ready in case something happens.”

  “Don’t tell your mother what’s going on until you have to, son,” Mik instructed him in a wry tone. “None of us needs that!”

  Breaking up the discussion, Mik and Myles headed to Tav’s house and Riker turned his car toward Atlanta. Mik hoped that Tav would sleep long and deeply. He knew in his bones that things were about to get complicated.

  Chapter 11

  It was going perfectly. Jack couldn’t have choreographed it better. His waist was fastened to that of six other men. Five of those men had been handpicked for this escape. It was going to be so easy.

  Whit Larson, the man next to Jack, was his cellmate. Whit was a follower and a good man to have around. He took on Jack’s causes and opinions as if they were his own. Vernon Bateman, called Verb for short, was next on the string. Verb was trustworthy, if uppity.

  The two men after Verb in the human chain were called the twins. Al Washington was black, wiry, and high strung. The man called his twin, Del Keys, had a mop of dirty blonde hair. He was thick and solid, and very laid-back. They were called the twins because of their evil natures. Either one would be glad to kill a man just to move up in line.

  They all knew that Rusty, the sixth man, was a wild card. Nobody was really worried. One sound out of him and they’d knock him out. If they killed him, well— accidents happen. Len Lindsay, last on the string, was quiet and moody. All Jack knew was that he hated being locked up and he had a real grudge against woman of any size or age. That was all Jack really needed to know.

  The guards were talking to each other and weren’t really focused on the crew. The hash wagon should be along in a few minutes.

  The men working this highway maintenance assignment were all considered low risk. Most of them were non-violent, repeat offenders. They had been considered nonviolent because their convictions were based on drugs charges or thefts. The title “nonviolent offenders” was ridiculously misleading.

  Most of the men on the crew were, in fact, very violent. The prison hierarchy had taught them more about violence and abuse than they had already learned in a lifetime. Sure, a man could be rehabilitated if he wanted to be. None of Jack’s comrades cared to be rehabilitated.

  When the hash wagon pulled up, the guards, like Pavlov’s legendary dogs, responded predictably. They walked around to the order window. Jack and his six companions turned and began walking into the woods.

  “Hey!” squeaked Rusty realizing what was going on, and then his lights went out.

  All in all, it was an absurdly easy escape. Most of the guards had been focused on the hash wagon. A convenient shoving match on the other end of the line had distracted the few others. When they were discovered, Jack was certain that the hue and cry would be a quiet one. After all—they were non-violent prisoners, after all.

  The plastic strips connecting each man to the one next to him allowed them all a great deal of freedom of movement. Regardless, they would all be much happier without the restraints—especially those men on either side of Rusty.

  About the time the little group happened upon a dilapidated hunting cabin, Rusty began to come around. He immediately began squawking and protesting that he had been due for release.

  Foolishly, the poor man angrily declared that he’d turn the other five men in so that the authorities would know that he was innocent. Jack punched the clamoring man in the mouth knocking him backwards.

  One of the twins, Al, had found a hunting knife and a whetstone. He began by cutting himself loose, then Jack, and then Rusty. Jack reached around and snatched the sheet of tarp draped over a wire stretched across the ceiling of the cabin.

  Del took the tarp and wrapped it around Rusty, smiling lazily.

  “Don’t worry, Rusty, you’ll still be released today,” Jack murmured.

  Al stepped forward and plunged the knife into the tarp just below Rusty’s ribcage on the left side. He angled it so that it punctured the man’s heart. Del put his hand over Al’s to help him withdraw it from the sucking wound.

  Wiping the knife on the tarp, Al gave Rusty a gentle shove. The man’s mouth worked ineffectually as he gasped out his last breaths. He died with a look of surprise on his face.

  * * * * *

  “Mom! There’s a police car coming down our road!” called Jacob.

  “Get in the house, boys!” She ordered.

  Tracey couldn’t imagine anything she needed less, especially right now with Ashley due home from school any minute. One more day was all she needed and then she’d be gone.

  Just as the Sheriff stepped out of his car, Tracey saw Tav come out of the woods. She was too rattled to be anything but grateful to see him. Tav walked to her as if nothing had happened and kissed her forehead, turning to the officer.

  “Timmons,” he growled.

  “Darke,” growled the Sheriff darkly in return. “This doesn’t have to do with you, Darke.”

  He looked Tav in the eyes for long moments. Am I imagining things? It looks like Tavist is getting bigger. The Sheriff dropped his eyes first.

  “She’s my mate. Now talk.” Tav’s voice was deeper than usual.

  “Seven men have escaped from a prison work crew. Jack Aschtholdt was the ring leader.” He handed Tav a stack of faxed photos.

  Tracey’s heart dropped to her toes. The Sheriff’s next words turned her to ice.

  “Last night, Sue Capitello’s home was broken into.” Tracey gasped and grabbed Tav’s arm.

  “Mik! Myles!” Tav called. He didn’t yell. He called the two names as if the men were only a few feet away.

  Tracey looked and saw a giant silver wolf accompanied by Myles Brooks- Montgomery.

  “Tracey’s ex has escaped from prison. Her friend Sue’s house was broken into.” Looking at the Sheriff again, Tav asked Tracey, “Wasn’t Sue supposed to be away?”

  Still keeping his eyes trained on his little notebook, the Sheriff seemed to break out in a sweat. “That’s right, she wasn’t at home at the time.”

  Tracey nearly fell over when the large wolf spoke. “Sheriff, I’m Mik Montgomery.”

  “Yes, sir,” the Sheriff’s voice had a squeak to it.

  “This place is about to be overrun with Livingstons and Montgomerys.”

  “Yes, sir,” the Sheriff answered.

  “You be sure and let your pack know they need to identify themselves. Anybody strays too close to Tav’s property, his mate, or one of his human pups puts his life in jeopardy, you understand?”

  “Yes sir, I understand completely.” Wiping his face with a handkerchief, the Sheriff began moving toward his vehicle.

  “Where’s Ashley?” Myles barked.

  “I got a man up on the road,” the Sheriff told him.

  “Bloody hell!” growled Myles. “That’s just going to scare her.”

  Before he could take a few steps, Ashley came running into the yard. She stopped, frozen, when she saw the crowd in front of her.

  “What’s going on?” she squeaked. “What’s wrong?”

  “Go on!” Mik barked at the officer.

  Before Tracey could
answer Ashley, Myles stepped forward holding his hand out. “Ashley, I have to tell you something.”

  When Tracey would have spoken, Tav grabbed her arm and shook his head. Tracey was too surprised to respond.

  Slowly, Ashley moved to Myles and hesitantly put her hand in his. He got down on one knee and looked into her eyes. The Sheriff drove away.

  “Something bad has happened,” Myles told her. Her eyes were large and round but she continued to hold Myles’s hand, standing just beyond his knee.

  “What’s wrong, Myles?” She looked at her mother, Tav and Mik, then back at Myles.

  “Your father escaped from jail, Princess. He could be looking for your family,” Myles told her gently.

  She began to shake. Carefully, Myles pulled her close to him and stroked her hair and back. After a minute, he tilted her face up. She was gripping the front of his shirt in her fists.

  “You know I’m going to take care of you, don’t you?” Myles asked her. “You’re my little Princess and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again. Do you trust me?”

  Ashley looked into his whiskey brown eyes for a minute and then she put her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. “I trust you Myles, but I’m scared.” He held her there for a minute.

  Tracey was flabbergasted. She couldn’t move as she watched her timid little girl interact with the muscular young man. Ashley has just hugged that man on purpose and told him she trusted him. I’ve stumbled into an alternate universe.

  Pulling back, Myles cupped Ashley’s chin and tilted her face up. “It’s okay to be scared, Princess. But all my brothers will be coming to help. And I bet Grandma Elke will come, too.”

  Myles stood and led Ashley into the house. “Take a minute, son, and round up Riker, Lakon, and Yancey!” Mik called out. Turning to Tav and a bemused Tracey, he said, “I’m going to round up the Montgomery and Livingston packs around here. We’ll get someone to stay with Tracey’s friend Sue if need be. I’ll be back in a while.” He began to turn away and then turned back to Tav. “Myles is right, son. Prepare for impact. Your mother’s dying to get her hands on those pups.” Then he was gone.