Rules of Survival (Entangled Embrace)

by Jus Accardo

  “’Cause that’s not too weird,” I mumbled.

  His hand closed around mine. “She’d make a good distraction, but she’s not my type.”

  “Oh?” I hated myself for the flush of happy that flooded my system. What the hell was wrong with me? I was running for my life, not looking for a hookup. But still, the way Shaun was gazing at me, the memory of last night… It transformed careful, smart, and cautious Kayla into a goober-worthy Kayla with a crazy-mad crush.

  “I prefer my girls with a little more of an edge. The kind that can roll with the punches.” He winked and lifted our joined hands. “Deal with unique situations without spazzing…”

  We’d stopped walking and he leaned close. I found myself wanting to meet him halfway. That is, until the annoying little voice in my head stopped me from doing something I’d regret.

  I’d put on the brakes last night for a reason. Because when this was said and done, I was either going to give him the slip or end up in jail. Or dead, but that wasn’t an option I wanted to give much thought to. I liked him. There was no reason to dig the hole any deeper than it already was. I cleared my throat and moved away. “I, um, think we should call Patrick again.”

  He blinked and pulled back. “Really?”

  There was a pay phone across the street on the corner, next to an IHOP. Desperate to avoid another awkward moment, I guided him across the street, the smell of syrup and cinnamon sugar wafting from the building making my mouth water with each step. “Yes—but I think I should be the one to call him.”

  “845-555-8628.” Shaun rattled off the numbers and settled back against the building without arguing.

  It only rang twice before Patrick picked up. “Shaun?”

  “Close. It’s Kayla.”

  The worry in his voice turned to anger. “Where the hell are you two? Is Shaun all right?”

  I held the receiver toward Shaun. “I’m cool, Pat. No worries.”

  Placing it back against my ear, I said, “I’m fine, too. You know, in case you were worried or anything.”

  “You’re getting on my nerves, kid. Tell me where you are because this thing is over your head.”

  “So you can fork me over and collect your cash? No way.”

  Patrick growled. “I told you last time we spoke—this Jaffe guy is lying. I’m not turning you in to him.”

  “But you’ll turn me in to the police?”

  “I wanna help you sort this thing out.”

  “I’m not telling you where we are until you answer a few questions.” I glanced over my shoulder. No one seemed to be paying us any mind. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. “You knew her. My mom.”

  He hesitated, then sighed. “Yeah. I knew her.”

  I took a deep breath. That was the straightest answer I’d ever gotten from him. “When you walked in on me at the cabin, I’d found a note from my mom. That’s why I went back there—to find it.”

  “She left you a note? What did it say?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to read much.” I glared at Shaun. “I was rudely interrupted—remember? What I did see was the name Mick, and another name. One that started with a T. I asked you about Mick last time we spoke. You were about to tell me—”

  “What else did the note say? What did you see?”

  “Focus,” I snapped. “Kinda on a timetable here. Mick. Who is he?”

  There were several moments of hesitation, and then an irritated sigh. “Mick. Mick Shultz. He’s your father, Kayla.”

  A lump formed and lodged in my throat like stale bread. I’d never asked much about my dad. Anything, actually. It was always Mom and me, and that had been enough. She’d mentioned him once or twice, but he’d always remained a nameless, faceless entity floating in the background.

  “My dad?”

  “Yeah. He—”

  I needed to know. “Is he dead?”

  “Dead?” Patrick asked, shocked. The line crackled with static. “No. Not that I know of…”

  “Where is he? Does he know about me?”

  “Your mom and him—it was complicated and…confusing. I don’t know what happened with them, but yes. He knows about you.”

  Then it all clicked into place. “He must know something about the information she was talking about.”

  On the other end of the line, there was a sound like paper, and something clinked. “Information? What—”

  Shaun tugged gently on the cuffs. “We need to go. We’ve been standing here way too long.”

  “I need to find him,” I said. It was more to myself than Patrick. “He can help me with this mess.”

  “Kayla, let me talk to Sh—”

  Shaun cursed and pulled against the cuffs. “I’m not kidding. We need to move.”

  “Where is he? Mick. Do you know where he is now?”

  “I have no idea. It’s—”

  Shaun grabbed the phone from my hand and slammed it down. He had a habit of hanging up on people at the worst possible moment. “Leaving now.”

  I tried to pull free, but his grip was like iron. “What are—” And then I understood. It was the look in his eyes. A mix of worry and anger. “Someone’s here, aren’t they?”

  “Just walk slow and keep your head down.” The ferocity in his voice terrified me.

  I did as I was told, hoping after we rounded the street corner, Shaun would slow down and explain. He didn’t.

  “Is it one of the guys from the cabin? The parking lot?” I couldn’t imagine how they’d caught up to us so fast. We hadn’t told anyone where we were headed. Not Chris, not Patrick—hell, even we hadn’t known.

  “No.”

  That probably should have made me happy, but instead, it sent icy shivers up and down my spine. Someone new. That was just what we needed. Because there weren’t already enough people out there looking to spend some quality time with me.

  “Don’t turn around,” he said, voice low. “Behind us is a man. Horrific tan. White-blond hair. Green jacket. Terribly tragic sense of fashion. He’s a hunter.”

  “Okay… And you don’t want him to see you?”

  “He’s already seen me. But it’s not me he’s following.”

  Wow. I was an idiot. “He recognized me?”

  “Pat’s beef with your mom—whatever it was—was the stuff hunter legends are made of. Hunters don’t congregate to bullshit, but they all know about it. It was a running joke among them that one of the others would bring you two in before he could.”

  “So you think he’s tracking us?”

  “He saw us together, and he knows who I am. Probably thinks I snagged you on Pat’s behalf.”

  “So, then we’re safe. Why’s he following?”

  “Safe? He’s a hunter. I told you, most of us are worse than the criminals we’re tracking… Nothing about this guy is safe.”

  “Shit. You’re saying he’s going to try to take me from you?”

  We rounded another corner. Ahead was a small crowd with a tall woman in the middle playing the violin. Mom had never been a fan of the classics, but this woman played them with an edge. A new spin on old-time favorites. Mom would definitely have approved.

  “That’d be my guess,” Shaun said. His hand tightened around mine as he scanned the area ahead.

  Under the cover of the defiled hoodie, I twisted my arm. “Gonna be a little hard since we’re kind of a package deal at the moment…”

  Shaun bent his head close to mine. “His name is Grayson Deeds. He takes mostly dead-or-alive cases.”

  That didn’t sound good. “Dead-or-alive cases? What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means ninety-nine percent of his marks are brought in without a pulse. I don’t think he’ll be above hacking my arm off to get you—or worse.”

  Despite Shaun’s warning, I chanced a quick peek over my shoulder. Grayson Deeds was hard to miss. Tall and lanky with the worst fake tan I’d ever seen. He was several yards away and closing in fast. He caught me peeking and winked, cocking his head to the
left with a wicked sneer.

  I faced front again, desperately scanning the area for a way to escape. We were almost to the crowd around the violinist. She’d just finished her piece, a chorus of applause drowning out the last remaining notes. The crowd had gotten larger, but it was still too small for us to lose ourselves in.

  We veered to the right and kept going past the crowd. Across the square, around a darkened corner, there was a small construction scaffolding over the doorway of an Italian restaurant. It wrapped around the side of the building and seemed to be deserted for the day.

  “Over there,” I said, picking up my pace. “Maybe we can lose him in the alley.”

  What I didn’t count on was Deeds not being concerned with subtlety. We were moving quickly, but trying to stay incognito. He was racing toward us, bowling over people and gaining ground faster than I’d anticipated. He got to us just before we reached the scaffolding, arm latching onto my shoulder to spin me around.

  “What do we have here?” he snickered as Shaun and I both froze. “Lotta people looking for you, little lady.” His eyes roamed my body, and I fought back a shiver when they lingered on my chest. “Meeting you in person, I can almost understand the hype.”

  “Back off, Deeds,” Shaun growled. The venom in his voice would be enough to make me take a step back if he’d been directing it my way. And the look of fury in his eyes? Oh, yeah. I’d be running.

  Deeds, on the other hand, wasn’t impressed. “Let me take this filly off your hands, little man. This is one for the big boys.”

  Shaun stepped around and wedged himself between Deeds and me. “I’m not gonna say it again. Back the fuck off and walk away.”

  The guy laughed and shoved Shaun hard in the left shoulder, just above his wound. His jaw tensed, and he stumbled back, caught off guard, and I went down with him, dragged by the chain. The ripped hoodie concealing the shackles fell to the floor, leaving the annoyingly bright silver exposed.

  Deeds whistled and shot a quick look in either direction. “Now isn’t that amusing?” He nodded to my wrist, then nudged Shaun with the tip of his cowboy boot. “Unlock ’em, boy. Now.”

  Shaun stood and helped me to my feet, repositioning himself in front of me, free hand curling tight. I’d bet it was only moments away from getting intimate with Deeds’s face.

  “Well?”

  When Shaun didn’t make a move, the enemy did. His fist shot out, catching Shaun across the lower jaw. The blow rocked his head back, and for a second I was sure he’d go down again, but he held his ground, face impassive. I was kind of impressed.

  “Well, you can take a hit. I’ll give you that, boy.”

  Still Shaun said nothing. He didn’t move, or try to hit back. But I could tell a storm was brewing. Deeds was an idiot not to see it. Shaun’s expression, previously one of determination, was now dark and stormy. There was anger in his eyes. Rage ten times more potent than what I’d seen at the junkyard.

  “Makes sense, I guess,” Deeds snickered. “You learned early to take those hits, didn’t ya, boy? Had years of practice from what I heard.” He winked. “Daddy used you as his own punching bag.”

  Shaun’s hand twitched in mine.

  Deeds, seeing the fury in Shaun’s eyes, kept pushing. “Oh, yeah. Everyone knows, kid. We heard all the stories.” He lounged against the side of the scaffolding. “I gotta say, you must be just about as fucked-up as they come.”

  A second passed. Maybe it was two. Deeds opened his mouth again, but he never got the chance to speak. Shaun let out a roar that sent my hair standing on end, and lashed out.

  A lightning-fast jab to the face, followed by a kick to the gut, and Deeds went tumbling backward in a flash of orange skin. He recovered quickly though, launching himself forward at Shaun—and me. We all went down in a heap, Deeds swinging like a madman possessed as Shaun semi-successfully blocked his blows.

  Up. Down. Up. Down. They went back and forth, taking turns knocking each other to the ground as I got tossed around like a rag doll.

  “You think you can actually take me?” Deeds growled as he landed a blow that sent Shaun sprawling sideways. He fell back against the pole that held the far side of the scaffolding up. The whole thing shimmied and shook, a can above our heads tipping over and dumping red paint down. It hit the pavement and sloshed everywhere, making the scene look like a bloodbath.

  I struggled to my feet, dragging Shaun along with me. He wiped a trail of blood from his lip, breath coming in shallow rasps. Like Deeds, he was a man possessed. Focused on nothing other than his opponent. What I’d witnessed in the junkyard paled compared to this. It was a whole new side to him. One that, while scary, sent prickles of excitement up and down my spine.

  “I told you to walk away,” Shaun growled.

  “I will. Just hand the little bitch over and consider things done. I won’t even beat your ass raw for the disrespect you’ve shown me.”

  The muscles in Shaun’s jaw twitched. His eyes flickered from Deeds to the scaffolding overhead as he wiped his mouth again and took a step back. “I dare you to fucking try.”

  Deeds laughed. He was standing directly under the middle of the scaffolding now. The can of red paint still dripped, the droplets hitting the ground right next to him and dotting his pants leg with what looked like specks of gore. He glanced down and frowned. “And on top of it all, you owe me a new pair of pants.”

  Shaun didn’t respond. He pushed me back and took another step, until we were out from under the scaffolding.

  “What? Got nothing to say, boy?” Deeds grinned. It was the kind of smirk you just want to wipe from someone’s face using Brillo. Or possibly high-grade sandpaper. It was conceited and, more than that, cruel. “Not that I expected anything else. Most beaten animals put up a small fight, but in the end, they know who the master is.”

  Shaun stiffened. For a second I was sure he’d charge Deeds again, but instead, he gently pushed me behind him. “Master? That’d be me.”

  Without warning, Shaun brought his leg up and kicked out at the scaffolding support with impressive force. It caved, wobbling for a moment before crashing down on Deeds.

  “Let’s go.” He took my hand and led me away as a crowd started to gather on the corner.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I stuffed my free hand under my leg to keep warm. We’d settled on the edge of an abandoned lot, against the wall of an old box factory, a few feet away from one of the many trash-can fires. It was late and the sun was going down. We’d spent the rest of the day trying to avoid not only Jaffe’s men, but now Deeds as well. “Can I ask you a question?”

  Beside me Shaun smiled. He was trying not to shiver. I’d attempted to give his jacket back, but he kept insisting he wasn’t cold. “The answer is yes. I do work out.”

  I smiled but shook my head.

  There were tents strewn all around—some real and others homemade—as well as sleeping bags and crudely made shelters. The locals called it Purgatory. Mom and I had crashed here for a couple days a few years ago. The cops mostly ignored it, and the local shelter came through once a day with food. It was mostly down-on-their-luck people—entire families who’d lost their homes, runaways, the poor and jobless, people who wanted to disappear. It was a broken community where everyone was welcome and no one had a name.

  “I was wondering about what Deeds said…”

  “Ahh.” He knew exactly what I meant. “I told you, hunters talk. They knew Pat took me in. He disappeared from the game for a while after that.”

  “Why did he disappear?”

  Shaun adjusted the cuff on his hand, then turned to look me in the eye. “’Cause I was a terror. Seriously damaged and impossible to handle.”

  Something Deeds said—something about a beaten dog and taking a hit—made the acid bubble in my belly. I swallowed hard. Suddenly it wasn’t so cold. “Damaged?”

  “My dad—my real dad—was a bastard. He was a drunk and knocked me around pretty badly.” He shifted the collar of hi
s shirt aside to reveal the angry bunch of scars I’d seen the other night on his left shoulder. “Used to use me as an ashtray.”

  “Jesus.” I gasped, remembering Shaun’s reaction, first to Patrick smoking back at the cabin, and then to Josh in the junkyard. Now it made sense—and looking at the cluster of scars, I couldn’t blame him.

  He shrugged it off. “One night, right after I turned thirteen, I’d had enough. I got angry and I fought back.”

  “What happened?”

  Shaun’s expression went dark. “He didn’t like it.” He pulled up his shirt, revealing the tattoo above his navel. Running his thumb across the top, where the ink was slightly warped, he said, “Stabbed me. That’s why it’s all fucked up. I had them put the ink over the scar. I survived, ya know? He also gave me three broken fingers, two busted ribs, and knocked out four teeth that night. Told the people at the ER I fell.” He shook his head. “After hearing that over and over again, they didn’t even bat an eye.”

  All my life it had always been just Mom and me. We looked out for each other and no one else. So when I found myself furious that someone had done that to him—had hurt him while he was so helpless—it was a bit overwhelming. I took a deep breath. “Where was your mom?”

  “Died when I was born. It was always just me and the old man.”

  “So you left?”

  “I had to. He left me alone for those first few days after I got out of the hospital, but fighting back had been a tipping point. If I stayed, he would have killed me. As soon as I could, I packed a bag and never looked back. I lived on the streets for ten months before I stumbled into the alley behind Pat’s building. I was frozen and starving, and beyond messed up. I was violent, and didn’t trust anyone. He put up with a lot from me…but never once did he yell or try to slug me.” A small smile crept across his lips. “When he put me into school, I didn’t really mesh with the other kids. I was always getting into fights—got my ass handed to me, too.”

  I couldn’t picture Shaun on the business end of a beating after the things I’d seen. The guy was hard-core. “Seriously?”

  “Oh, hell yeah. But Pat spent the weekends teaching me to fight. Teaching me to stand on my own two feet and defend myself.”