Upper Hand (Cedar Tree Book 5)

by Freya Barker

  “Neil’s on his way with some equipment to tighten up security here.” Gus walks in, snapping his phone shut and grinning. “And don’t be surprised when Emma shows up with food to feed an army.”

  “I’m cooking!” Beth yells from the kitchen, having obviously overheard some of that.

  “Girl, you know my Emma; there’s no way she would come over and not bring food. I’m guessing that before long there’ll be more people showing up. After this morning’s attack on you and now this, I’m thinking the Cedar Tree phone lines are humming. Everyone’s gonna want to check in.”

  Both Gus and I have moved into the kitchen where Beth has half the contents of the fridge spread out on the counter.

  “Bean. Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?” I try, but am shut down with a fierce glare from chocolate brown eyes. Gus snickers beside me.

  “Word of advice; don’t come between a woman and her need to feed.”

  “Right,” I confirm, my eyes still on Beth’s where I see a hint of fear lingering. Wrapping my hand around the nape of her neck, I draw her to me, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “Right,” I say again. “I’m gonna fix that door. Gus, give me a hand?”

  Thirty minutes later, Emma is in my kitchen bickering with Beth. Gus and I have a new catch plate ready to go on the new doorpost—the old one having been splintered when Gus put his boot through it—and the door is ready to be rehung. Only thing left to do is put a new lock on it. It’s around nine o’clock, getting pretty damn cold out, and I’m fucking starving, wanting to get this shit done. The crunch of tires on my drive alerts me. Gus, I see, is already alert with his hand on the butt of his gun, temporarily stuck in the back of his waistband so he’d have free movement of his arms. Guess he was comfortable enough to go without his shoulder holster but not going without the gun. Grinding to a stop is Arlene’s truck. Figures.

  “Where is she?”

  “Easy, Arlene,” Gus cautions when she comes marching up the steps, her face angry. But then Arlene has a tendency to get pretty pissed when something happens to her friends.

  “Don’t tell me ‘easy’, Gus Flemming. I just found out Seb was called twice today—twice—about shit going on with my girl, and he’s in fucking deep water already for keeping it from me! Don’t know why you wouldn’t call me yourself. Not only this morning, but now. Good thing Emma gave me a head’s up, or who knows when I would’ve been told?”

  This is when I decide to intervene on Seb’s behalf, because it’d been me calling both times and I purposely did it on his cell. “Arlene, simmer down. I asked him to.”

  “You what?”

  “You guys were on the doorstep when we came home from the hospital, we didn’t even have time to get in the house before you laid into me. Didn’t want that whole circus twice in one day, so I asked Seb to sit on it for a couple of hours.” I try, but as expected Arlene’s not having it.

  “Then you’ve just lost any brownie points you may have won over the last year, buster!” Oh, she’s pissed. Right in my face, finger poking in my chest, and Gus, helpful as he can be, just leans back against the porch railing with his arms crossed over his chest, chuckling. Son of a bitch.

  Then Arlene makes me mad. “That’s my friend in there, we’ve been buds since we were kids, and you think you’re gonna dictate when I can and can’t see her? Got another thing coming, Clint.” She spits out my name and is ready to march past me in the house, but this time I’ve got something to say.

  “Wrong. I’m her man, and I will damn well do what I need to do to make sure she gets what she needs. This isn’t about you, Arlene. This is about Beth and what is good for her.” I raise my hand when Arlene opens her mouth to interrupt, ‘cause I’m not done. “My woman, my responsibility, and when she’s not at full strength, then my call too.” I must’ve gotten loud, because I see Emma slip outside and lean against Gus, who immediately tucks her close, and I feel Beth’s hand slide up my back. When I turn my head, she’s looking up at me with a rare softness in her eyes. Usually they shoot sparks of one or another variety, but now they’re soft, like melted chocolate. With one hand on the small of my back, the other now resting on my stomach, leaning in to my side, she turns to face Arlene who hisses when she sees Beth’s face.

  “Your face...it’s worse now.”

  “Honey, I’m fine. Shaken up but fine. I had no idea Clint called—calling frankly never entered my mind—but I’m glad he called Seb.” Arlene flinches at this and Beth is quick to finish her thought. “The scene in the parking lot, the hospital, and now this, I needed some time to process without a horde, however well intended, stomping down the door.

  “But...”

  “Hush. I know you want to rush to the rescue, and you guys are very good at that.” I notice Emma’s eyes widen a little when she finds herself included. “I appreciate it, but Clint’s here. I look after him, and it would seem he looks after me, too. So let up, okay?” Arlene still looks like she wants to protest, but Emma’s face has gone soft as her eyes travel between Beth and me.

  “Right,” she says. “Arlene come inside, give Seb a call to see if he can come over. We’ll all have a bite, since between Beth and I we have enough food for an army. We’ll let the boys finish up the door and Beth can tell us everything, all right?”

  Gus bends down and kisses her temple before letting her go, and with her arm around Arlene’s waist, she guides her inside. Ignoring Gus, I turn Beth so her front is pressed against mine, my arms around her.

  “You good?” I ask, looking down in her upturned face, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Fine.”

  The significance of her little speech for Arlene slowly settles in to my chest, and I want her to know it didn’t escape me.

  I hold her a little tighter. Bending down, I touch my lips to hers and simply whisper, “Means the world.”

  Her own arms grow tighter and she whispers back, “Ditto.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  “Hey...What time is it?”

  I’ve got to admit, having a man call you beautiful when you’ve been beaten black and blue, hair a tangled mess, and sleep crusting your eyelids together is a very new and very welcome experience. I try not to smile too big because I haven’t brushed my teeth. Don’t want to kill the illusion. Taking a quick peek at the clock on the nightstand tells me it’s just after seven in the morning.

  Shifting up in bed, I suddenly feel every muscle and bone in my body. Feels like I got plowed over by a damn Mack truck. I must’ve winced because Clint immediately puts down the coffee he’s holding on the nightstand, fishes the bottle with my pills out of his pocket, and shakes two in the palm of his hand.

  “Here,” he says, holding his hand out to me. “Better knock it down fast. Second day after a beating is always worse.”

  I take the pills from him, pop them in my mouth, and wash them down with the coffee he picks up again and hands me.

  “How would you know?” I ask after wrestling down the tablets. I’ve never been good at swallowing them. Clint chuckles, either at the question or the fact that my face goes funny when the taste of those damn pills gets stuck in the back of my throat. Complete with gagging sounds I throw back the rest of the coffee, near burning my mouth in the process.

  “Well?”

  “Grew up with a brother, Bean. We used to practice on each other. A lot.”

  I’m surprised he’s smiling as he’s apparently reliving good memories. Although, how beating the snot out of each other can be cause for smiles, I’ll never understand. Regardless, a smile in relation to Jed is progress, it’s got to be. “So have you been in touch? With your brother?” I ask, as I settle back into the pillows.

  Clint moves to the other side of the bed and climbs in beside me, fully dressed in signature faded jeans, Henley, and flannel shirt. He gingerly tucks his arm around me and pulls me close. Because Clint is more comfortable than a few pillows against the headboard
, I turn into him and put my cheek to his chest.

  “Monday, actually. Was gonna tell you about it, but shit just kept happening. Mostly he talked and I listened. Not saying we’re good, but we’re better.” His hand is lazily stroking through the ends of my hair, which is getting way too long and I snuggle in deeper. He really has a nice chest.

  “Sorry your heart got broken, Big Guy. She was a bitch,” I mutter into his shirt. It takes me a minute to realize the movement underneath my cheek is Clint’s suppressed laughter and I promptly push up. “This is not funny.”

  His smiling brown eyes sparkle with amusement as he looks down on me.

  “I love that pet name, and I love that you feel protective of my heart, but babe she didn’t break my heart—my brother did. Looking back, I reckon she never really had my heart. Now how about you get your luscious ass out of bed. I’m cooking breakfast before heading out.”

  “You’re heading out? Where?” I want to know. Flipping back the covers, I slip out of bed, tucking my shirt, or rather Clint’s shirt that I’ve taken to sleeping in, down to cover my ass. When I turn, he’s standing on the other side of the bed, a big grin on his face as he looks me up and down. “Well?” I have to prompt before his eyes slide up slowly over my breasts, that unrestricted hang closer to my belly button than I’m really comfortable with, and finally come to rest looking into mine. Damn grin is still there.

  “Two things. I have to stop by the clinic and see Kendra. Realized this morning I totally missed that appointment yesterday, with all things going on. Since I missed Monday’s too, I figure I at least owe her a coffee and an apology. Then I’m planning to meet Jed at the office, so he can get me up to date on the progress of current projects and work out a schedule with me.” He purposefully walks around the bed and right up to me, wrapping those big arms around me. Standing with my face once again pressed against his chest, my arms snaked around his middle, half-naked in my bare feet, I feel dwarfed by his size. I like it.

  “Maybe I should go check on Max. I mean, we can’t just leave him at Katie’s.”

  “Talked to Caleb this morning. He’s doing some work from home and between him, Katie, and Mattias, Max will be taken care of. But Gus said he’d come to pick you up to head into Cortez, apparently the sheriff has some more questions.”

  I know that should concern me, but my mind was stuck on all the planning that’d gone on while I was still sleeping. “You talked to Gus, too? Busy morning already and it’s not even eight.”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “Ready to get this day going, get our shit sorted, and start working on moving past it to where we can see our future clear.”

  When I tilt my head back, his eyes are warm on mine, holding a promise that I’m not sure I’m ready to contemplate, but it sure as hell feels nice. I lift up on my feet and touch my lips to his. “Let’s get shit sorted then.”

  -

  “So what you’re saying is that Tammy’s brother is the one who got Dylan hooked up with this Sam character? A member for a gang of car thieves?” I shake my head, still confused at the information that was suddenly burying me. Clint’s hand tightens on mine. He’d decided last minute to switch his plans around a bit, when Gus came to the door with a very serious look on his face. Figured he should be with me for whatever news I was about to get thrown at me, and boy, was I glad he did. He hasn’t let go of my hand since we sat down in the sheriff’s office facing Drew.

  “The gang supplies stolen cars to a crime syndicate running luxury car parts nationally and internationally. The chop shop they took down last week was only one of a chain of them. Turns out, Sam took it upon himself to use money that wasn’t his to lend to Dylan, and when he wasn’t able to come up with it in time, the syndicate discovered Sam’s indiscretion and put the pressure on. Big time. Brian says he warned his sister, and she called him after a blow out with Dylan, who had no idea until then how big his problems were. She left and I guess that’s when he decided to drop his boy off with you.” Drew takes a sip of his coffee, which by the way, tastes like fucking tar. I had a sip of mine and put it as far away from me as possible when the astringent burn hit my tongue. I’m still trying to force my brain to process the information I’m getting, but without the aid of good caffeine it’s proving to be difficult.

  Gus decides to take over for Drew. “I thought initially maybe he was working for them. Those mechanics usually get great pay and it would’ve made sense he’d go for the bigger check in order to pay them off. Now it doesn’t make that much sense anymore, because those guys aren’t known for their charitable demeanor. Seems more likely he was doing something else there, but whatever it was, Dylan’s now not only on the law enforcement radar, but on the syndicate’s as well. In a big way.” Gus puts a hand on my knee before continuing. “They want their money, Sam wants the money and even Brian is feeling the heat for his involvement from them. They’re squeezing every angle and, darlin’, I’m thinking since Dylan was spotted at the Monticello raid, it’s no longer just the money. They just want him. Brian mentioned that word coming down is that anyone who hands over Dylan will be absolved.”

  “Jesus,” comes out of Clint’s mouth. I am too petrified to even move, let alone speak. Sure I’ve lived through some hairy stuff, along with everyone else. Everyone of my friends has been through some horrible trials in the past few years, but my response to those events was always one of action. Now? I can’t even think, I’m so busy drowning.

  “Beth?” Gus’s voice penetrates and when I look up, I realize he’s moved from the chair beside me to sit on the desk in front of me. Hadn’t even noticed him moving. “I need you to listen carefully. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you or Max, and I’m pulling in all manpower for this. Joe’s on his way back from a job in Albuquerque to help. I’ve got Neil working on Clint’s place, installing more security, outside cameras, and panic buttons in the kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. Mal and Neil are going to continue to cover you, and Max is gonna stay with Katie and Caleb.”

  I try to protest that but Gus won’t let me interrupt.

  “Gotta be this way, Beth, I’m sorry. At least until we flush out all the players, and right now, as far as we can figure that’s Sam and his band of car thieves and the syndicate. The first I expect is manageable, but the second is going to be tough. Their reach is far. Drew, Joe, and I will be working on clearing this shit up. In the meantime you don’t do anything without coverage. Each time you step outside, for whatever reason, you should not be alone.”

  Swallowing hard, I try to stop my body from the trembling that’s slowly started up in my limbs. Clint just clenches my hand harder, so hard in fact, it starting to feel numb.

  “I want her put in a safe house somewhere. Some place where she’ll be completely safe,” Clint’s voice sounds hoarse and I realize it’s fear doing that. Fear for me. Despite the cold fist of fear around my heart, a warm tingle starts in the pit of my stomach.

  “No.”

  All eyes turn back to me, surprised.

  “I’m not going to do that,” I tell Clint, placing my hand against his jaw. “If I do, they’ll just move on to you or to any of my friends. Pressuring or threatening you for information. I won’t do it, Clint. Not going to pass the hot potato. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you, or any of you because I was cowering in a corner.”

  “Beth, I’m telling you—“

  “I said no. I know you want to keep me safe, and believe me when I tell you how incredibly good that feels, but I feel the same way about you. I’m sticking this out.”

  He drops his head, leaning against my forehead and whispers, “Killing me, my love.”

  My heart stops beating for a moment, before jumping into high gear, pounding so hard against my chest, I’m sure everyone can hear. Before I can properly process the fact that Clint just called me ‘his love,’ Drew decides to break up our little interlude.

  “Right. Beth’s correct in assuming they’ll just move on to the next
victim down the list. I’m going to try and convince the Durango PD to actively look for Tammy, who’s apparently really disappeared off the grid, according to her brother, but don’t hold your breath. Given that she took clothes and her car, they’ll assume she chooses to stay away. They won’t likely do anything unless there’s evidence of foul play. I will also stay in close contact with Gus and keep him updated. Either of you need me, here are all my numbers.” He hands both Clint and I his card.

  “Do I need a license to carry a gun?” I blurt out, not entirely sure what possesses me but knowing I need to have a little bit of control back. Although, I’ve always loathed guns, I’m willing to put that aside for now. Maybe I’ll feel less vulnerable.

  -

  -

  A gun? She wants to carry a gun?

  “You’re allowed to have a gun, but to carry it concealed, you need a license. I can probably hook you up with one, but do you really think that’s wise? Can you even shoot?” Drew asks Beth.

  “I can learn.”

  “Fuck me,” I let slip out loud, earning a scathing look from Beth. “Bean, I have a license to carry. I don’t usually, but I’m going to now. No need for you to have one. I’m still not planning to leave your side. Besides, I know how to shoot.”

  From the look on her face, I didn’t exactly help myself.

  “Missing the point, Clint. I need to have some control—something I can do for myself. I know you’re all big controlling apes at heart, but this ‘little lady’ wants to be able to stand up for herself.” The intended sarcasm does not go unnoticed and I tag her behind the neck and put my face close to hers.

  “That’s twice. Your ass is gonna be red,” I tell her, hopefully low enough so only she hears, but from the muted chuckle coming from Gus, he got an earful too. Beth blushes a pretty red. Immediately my thoughts travel to putting that same pretty red color to her ass with my hand. I’m so distracted by the image, I realize too late she’s out of her chair and walking toward the door with Drew in tow. Gus is still chuckling.