by Taylor Lee
Nate laid her in their bed and curved his big body around her slender frame. He closed his eyes against what he knew would come all too soon. He knew how angry she would be, how indignant. An ironic smile tugged at his lips listening to her soft whispery breaths. He’d have to remember this sweet surrendering woman when she railed against him. He would deserve her anger and he would tolerate it. Nothing and no one was going to hurt her. Not if he could stop them. And that is exactly what he intended to do.
In the meantime he needed to protect her. Keep her out of harm’s way. No matter what it took and no matter how much she resisted.
Chapter 13
“You’ve got a chance now, boy, to live up to your heritage. Show the world who you really are.”
Tucker glared at his father across the barroom table. He forced himself to speak quietly. To not let the odious man know how much he despised him.
“What heritage is that, Dad?”
Tucker was glad to see Cougar grimace at the name. He didn’t know if his father was surprised or embarrassed by the appellation but Tucker meant it as a curse.
“Are you surprised that I call you that? Afraid someone might hear? Don’t worry, Dad. The dead-enders you hang with could care less. I’m just one of the runts you sired and abandoned. The more the better, right? Shows what a man you are.”
Tucker leaned back in his chair. He took a swig of beer and smiled at the flustered man across from him.
“Don’t be alarmed, Cougar. I’m not going to proclaim you. I never have. And I never will. It takes more than a shot of sperm to be a father. But then you never acknowledged that you were my father—at least not publicly. Of course everyone knew I was your son. But you made it clear that I was the result of an insignificant relationship—an indiscreet roll in the hay. Know how I heard you describe me to one of your buddies when I was a little kid? You said that I was the result of dipping your wick in some red ink. Just for the hell of it, right, Dad?”
Tucker was gratified to see the big man’s face flush. He was surprised at the fury he felt. He hadn’t realized that in addition to hating his father, he’d been deeply hurt by his rejection.
“Ah yes, we were talking about my heritage. Would that be my ‘white’ heritage? The one you weren’t ashamed of? Was that why when you occasionally dropped in on my mother and me you insisted I cut my hair? Afraid if it got too long I’d look like some of my darker skinned relatives?”
“What the hell are you talking about, boy? What relatives?”
“You know, my reservation relatives. Admit it. You were ashamed of my mother and ashamed of me. And you hated the fact that we lived on the reservation.”
“That’s because your mother chose to live there. She didn’t have to. She wanted to rub it in my face who she was.”
“Or maybe, just maybe, Dad, she wanted to be with people who supported her. Who were proud of her and who loved and cherished her son.”
Cougar slammed his big fist on the table rattling the bottles of beer with the force.
“Goddammit, Tucker. All that is in the past. You’re a man now. Not a sniveling kid hidin’ behind your mama’s skirts.”
The big man’s eyes flashed with anger, his bushy brows jerked together in a dark fierce line. Tucker remembered how that look had scared him when he was little. His worst nightmare was that something might happen to his mother and he would be sent to live with this angry man. When he told Black Eagle his fears, the elderly man had held him close. He’d said in his kind voice, “You must never fear that, Tucker. You are my son, and Wolf Tender’s son and the son of all the other men in this tribe. No matter what happens, your home is with us.’
Cougar continued, apparently oblivious to Tucker’s disdain.
“You need to make a choice, Tucker. You heard what happened last night. Jeb killed seven of my men and destroyed hundreds of thousands of dollars of my merchandise. Do you hear what I’m saying, boy? Jeb’s coming after me. Are you willing to let that filthy son of a bitch take everything I’ve worked hard for, the sacrifices I’ve—”
Tucker drew up in his seat, his fury a rolling ball of acid in his gut.
“What have you worked hard for, Cougar? Worked hard to spurn your ‘redskin’ son and his mother while you used those reservation ‘connections’ to create a whole new generation of dopers?”
He forced his voice to drop. He didn’t want to give his father the satisfaction of knowing how angry he was. For years he’d watched this big man sidle up to the reservation selling his new brand of ‘firewater’, laughing at how easily he could hook the wretched souls who’d given up on their lives.
“Tell me, Cougar. What’s worse, denying you’ve got a ‘breed’ son or exploiting that association to sell your poison to the people he lived with? Did you ever feel the least bit guilty?”
Tucker laughed a harsh scornful sound. “Right, I forgot. It requires a conscience to feel guilt. But you’re conscience-free, aren’t you? Damn, 30 pieces of silver? Not you. You’ve taken at least a hundred. All to placate that evil man who treated you like his lap dog.”
Cougar rose up in his chair and clenched his fists.
“You don’t understand. Jeb threw that in my face. He constantly taunted me about you and your mother. That ungrateful asshole acted as though that connection didn’t get us in tight on the rez. Christ, how the hell does he think we got the reservation opened to us?”
Tucker stared at him, for the moment unable to conceive of such evil duplicity.
“And you’re proud of that, right, Dad? You denied me all my life. You refused to acknowledge my mother but you used that relationship to invade the reservation. Do you know how low, how despicable that is?”
Cougar’s face flushed a darker red. If he didn’t know better, Tucker might have thought the bastard was embarrassed.
“I gave your mother money. I don’t suppose she told you that!”
Tucker guffawed, not attempting to hide his scorn.
“You did, huh? Knowing how proud my mother is, she did what she should have done with dirty money. She gave it to the reservation elders so they could treat all the new meth addicts who were being poisoned by you and your disgusting cohorts.”
Tucker couldn’t shutter the intensity shaking his voice. It was impossible to act as if it didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. This man wasn’t worth his anger, or his emotion, or his hatred. He rose to his feet and threw a bill on the table.
“You didn’t want me when I was graduating at the top of my high school class or when it was my three-pointer that won the state championship. But now you want to claim me, Dad? Bring me on to help you? Now that I’m a big strapping buck?”
Tucker placed his hands on the table and leaned in close, sneering when his father pulled back.
“You’re right about that, Dad. I could be an incredible asset to your mangy gang. I’m big, strong and I know how to fight. I shoot everything from a sawed off to a Shilen DGV and I’m hell on wheels with a knife. Some of the benefits of growing up on the rez. Unlike the rest of the cretins you hang with, I’m smart. There’s the rub. Too smart to work with you.”
Cougar’s face paled. His bluster was gone. He looked like a fox who recognized the clamp tearing at his leg was a trap, one he couldn’t shake off. Fear replaced the anger in his voice.
“Tucker, Jeb killed seven men last night. Two of them were kids you grew up with—”
Tucker interrupted him.
“I know, Dad. I was there. Watching Detective Stryker and Captain Lang cleaning up the mess that you and Jeb made. I’m sure you didn’t see me. I was watching from the reservation. With my people.”
He lowered his voice further, which made the anger vibrate more intensely if possible.
“In answer to your previous question, I care very much what happens between you and Jeb. And I’ll do what I can to make a difference. Just know that my goal is to see that you kill each other off.”
He had the satisfaction of seeing his f
ather rear back, shock on his weathered face.
“One more thing, Dad. If I ever hear you slander my mother with your ignorant racist slurs, I’ll kill you with my bare hands. Trust me. If Jeb doesn’t kill you, I will. It’s just a matter of who gets to you first.”
Tucker strode through the doorway into the sunshine. He shook his head to squelch the tears burning the backs of his eyelids. He covered his eyes to shield them from the glare. His heart was pounding. His legs were shaking. Climbing into his truck, he took deep ragged gulps of air. He finally quieted his racing heart enough to start the engine. Revving it up, he ground through the gears and headed down the highway to the one place where he could breathe. To the one person who made his life worth living.
Chapter 14
“How dare you? How dare you, Nathan Stryker? Have you no shame? You make love to me? Hold me in your arms? Tell me how much you love me. Knowing full well you have betrayed me?”
Nate sighed hearing Erin’s angry voice rise to a near shriek. He put his hand over the speaker and turned to the young woman in front of him.
“I’ll be with you in a minute. Just let me deal with this call.”
He turned his head and spoke into his cell phone.
“Look Erin, I understand your concerns. I’m sorry, but I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done here.”
“Don’t bother. There is nothing you can say. Your actions not only make your words unnecessary, they confirm that you are a devious, underhanded—”
“Erin, honey….”
“Don’t call me that! Don’t call me, period. Do you hear? We have nothing to say to one another. Nothing!”
The loud click and buzzing sound confirmed to the woman across from him what must be clear from the abashed expression he was sure was on his face.
“Sorry. In case you didn’t guess, that was Erin. She’s angry with me.” He gave her a sheepish grin, “For good reason.”
Nate was thoughtful for a moment then faced the young woman squarely.
“Look, Melanie, I’ll try to explain to you what I am trying to explain to Erin. You both need to listen to me. There is a lot going on—more than you can imagine.”
The lovely young girl shook her head. Nate was struck how much she looked like Sarah, her mother. The way Sarah did when she was a teenager. Like her mother, Melanie was blonde, delicate, with eyes that were bluer than a Minnesota sky. The tilt of her chin as she frowned at Nate also reminded him of the sixteen year old Sarah. Gutsy, confident. The way Sarah had been before Jeb crushed the spunk out of her. Crumpled her spirit.
“Nate, don’t bother to tell me. Don’t waste your breath.”
Nate huffed a small laugh. Damn, he loved this girl. As much as he loved his cousins, Connor and Luke’s sisters. Over the years, he’d reached out to Melanie. Even though he knew it was Sarah’s doing, he was honored to be Melanie’s godfather. He took his role seriously. He never missed a birthday, or a holiday. He’d included her in the Lang family celebrations as much as her rat-faced father allowed. Nate was careful, knowing that if he angered Jeb, threatened him, the fucker would take it out on Melanie—or her mother.
Nate especially loved Melanie’s intrepidness. She’d managed to grow up in the same house as one of the most evil, sociopathic men he’d known and somehow she’d kept her spirit, her integrity intact. Nate not only loved her, he admired the girl he was proud to call his goddaughter.
Now his pride collided with his frustration. His thoughts strayed to Erin for an instant, seeing the resemblance between her and Melanie. Damn, what was wrong with these smart, feisty women he loved? Couldn’t they see the danger surrounding them? Didn’t they understand why he was protecting them? Why they needed his protection?
Melanie cut into his thoughts.
“I know you’re concerned, Nate. But I know how to take care of myself.” A flush spread over her rosy cheeks. “Besides, Nate, I have someone else watching out for me now. You can pay attention to Erin. She’s your woman and she needs you.”
She stopped and looked chagrined.
“Not that I don’t need you, Nate. It’s not that at all! But—”
Nate shook his head in mock hurt.
“I know, Melanie. I know how fickle you pretty young girls are. Along comes a good-looking guy and you throw over the old men.”
He put up his hands at her dismay and laughed.
“Honey, you know I’m teasing you. And yes, Amy told me that you have a guy in your life. Don’t misunderstand, Melanie, and don’t be mad at Amy. You deserve to have a whole platoon of guys after you. You are smart, gorgeous and feisty. What more could a guy want. Even those boys your age who don’t deserve a young woman like you.”
Melanie frowned. Her lip puffed up in an aggrieved pout.
“You don’t understand, Nate. He isn’t a boy. Plenty of those have been after me for years. You think I would tempt my father’s anger for one of them?”
She gave a dismissive sniff then her expression softened and her eyes glowed.
“No, Nate, this isn’t some goofy teenage boy. This is… a man. I know you would be pleased, that you would like him.”
Nate sighed. “Honey, I’m sure I would. But you and I both know that’s not what I’m concerned about. Amy’s not the only one who came to me about this boy—I mean this man.”
He saw her chin lift and prepared for the onslaught.
“Melanie, your mom talked to me last night. She’s frightened. She’s afraid of what your father will do to you and to your fellow if he finds out.”
He held up his hand to cut off her angry retort, but Melanie refused to be stopped. Her face was tight with disdain.
“My mother is always frightened! You know that, Nate. She lives her life in terror. I refuse to be like her. And I know you don’t want me to be. Someone has to stand up to my disgusting father and if my mother won’t, then I will!”
Nate was struck by the truth of her assertions and impressed with her courage. Unfortunately even though he hated the life Sarah had led, he knew she and Melanie had good reason to fear Jeb. Especially now.
“Honey, listen to me. You and I both know what your father is like. Particularly now. He’s a violent evil man. In the next few weeks everything we know about him is going to come out. And Melanie, you need to know. He isn’t going to survive it. He will live the rest of his life in prison, if he isn’t killed first. Jeb knows I’m out to get him and he knows what will happen when I do. And honey, he is going to put up the fight of his life to try to stop me.”
Nate was quiet for a moment letting his words sink in. He saw the surprise on Melanie’s face and moved to take advantage of it.
“All I’m asking is that you and your friend pull back. Just for a while. A week or two at the most. Your father is going to be like an enraged bull, who sees the nets, the cage in front of him. But he won’t go quietly, peacefully. No, he will try to take down everything and everyone in his path. If you inflame him, give him reason to attack, he will, Melanie. Not only to hurt you, but to get at me. Do you understand?”
Nate stopped talking and held her gaze. He knew how proud she was, how determined. But she wasn’t stupid. She’d lived with Jeb all her life. She knew what he was capable of. For a moment Nate thought she understood, that she would accede to his pleas. But then her eyes flashed and for a split second she looked more like her fierce father than her mother. She took a deep breath and returned Nate’s hard gaze.
“I’m sorry, Nate. But you don’t understand. I do know what is going to happen in the next few days. I welcome it. And I’m not afraid. Nate, the man I’m with is like you. He is strong, powerful in his own quiet way. He hates his father as much as I hate mine. He is on a mission. And so am I. Together we’re going to take them down.”
Cold, overwhelming dread swept Nate. It was as though a devilish fiend had found a way to open his bloodstream and replace his blood with ice water. The expression on Melanie’s face stole his breath. For a b
rief hideous moment he allowed himself to acknowledge what would happen if Jeb or Cougar knew the truth. He waited until he could conjure up enough spit to get the words out. His request was shaky, not at all like his usual assertive command.
“Melanie, please tell me that the man… the man you’re involved with isn’t Tucker Barnes.”
“No, Nate, I won’t tell you that. What I will tell you is that the man I am deeply in love with, the man I’m going to marry is Tucker Barnes.”
Chapter 15
“Ah, Señor Jones. Cómo está usted? So good to hear your voice. I like to speak personally to my friends. Especially when we have so much at stake. Sí, mi amigo?”
Jeb kept from growling into the telephone. He despised everything about Mexicans, but most of all their voices. He paced his office, glaring out the wall of windows at the ground crew working his property. Now that was what Mexicans were supposed to be doing. Manual labor, working for him. They should be cleaning up dog shit and mowing his grass. Not threatening him in those soft lilting tones. Christ, their voices sounded like music, right before the bastards chopped off your head.
“Did you say something, Señor Jones?”
“No. I…I was just thinking about how good it will be to complete our transaction.”
The bastard’s sibilant musical tones slid through the ether.
“Sí, mi amigo. We have a large transacción, indeed. Perhaps it will be useful to review, sí.?”