by Maira Dawn
But there was another side to her too, because everyone liked her, every single person he'd talked to about her. So much so, that once they realized his interest, they clammed up.
Didn't want a Cole boy sniffing around her. They're probably right.
Dylan gave Skye one last glance before he turned his attention to his driving. Thinking about the task at hand, old memories of his own upbringing teased at the back of his mind, haunting him. He gripped the hard steering wheel tighter, then shook his head to clear it.
He hadn't been able to look at her when she teared up over the boy. If he didn't do anything else for her, he'd help her rescue this kid. For her and for the boy. Dylan looked at Skye sitting there with her hands in her lap, trusting them. That woman would've got nothing but hurt without us.
Dylan shot a glance over to his brother. Wade nodded. They agreed, they were gonna save that boy.
Twenty
Stalled
The weathered truck bounced down the pothole-filled road. Sandwiched between the two large men, Skye did feel like the little girl Brown-hair had called her.
And why am I in the middle, anyway?
Skye tried in vain to make herself even smaller. The men had ripped the sleeves from their t-shirts, so their smooth, powerful biceps and shoulders were bare. They were nice to peek at, but she tried to avoid contact with them.
I guess I should just be happy the dead carcasses are not sitting on my lap. For a moment, Skye swore Dark-hair had been thinking about bringing them into the cab of the truck. But after a brief hesitation and a regretful squint, he'd slung them into the back. Skye grimaced. Probably right on top of my stuff.
Since social skills didn't appear to be the men's strong suit, Skye took the lead in introductions with a nervous timbre to her voice. "I'm Skye Jackson from over near--."
Dark-hair stopped her. "Yeah, we know who you are."
"Oh, have we met before?" Secretly, Skye tried to observe the man. Now he’d calmed down, she could see how handsome he was. She was sure she would have remembered him. And the ridiculously broad shoulders her eyes played along, despite his somewhat tattered clothing. On top of those, the man had an energy about him she hadn't quite figured out, but it reminded her of something left on the stove at a simmer.
Dylan darted a look out the side window. "I seen ya around."
Skye twisted her bracelets round and round causing them to jingle. Well, that certainly clears things up. She nodded. "I moved here a couple of years ago. I'm Tom Jackson's cousin."
"The cop, right?"
"Um, yes."
Skye second-guessed her decision to get in the vehicle when the men exchanged glances above her head. What is that about? Are they some sort of mountaineer outlaws?
Since the men had yet to offer their names, Skye cleared her throat and prompted, "And you are?"
With offhanded tone and a wave of his hand, Brown-hair volunteered, "I'm Wade Cole, and this is my brother, Dylan."
"I can't thank you enough for the ride, Wade, and Dylan." Skye searched for a topic that would interest them. She figured out one and said, "So, is it hunting season? With bows?"
The brothers both turned to stare at her as if she was some kind of odd bug before returning their gaze to the windshield.
"Yeah, it's bow season," Wade said.
Skye glanced down at herself. Do I look like someone who would keep up with that? What do they keep mistaking me for someone who knows anything about hunting? Skye gave up trying to find a subject they had in common, her mind turning to Jesse, and they drove in silence.
Dylan grunted his approval that the small talk was over and sped along as fast as he could while missing the worst of the potholes. Wade stared out his side window.
At one of the endless stop signs, the truck sputtered, coughed, and stopped.
Another delay was more than Skye could take. "Piece of junk," she muttered under her breath, frowning. She bit her lip when she realized they heard her. Don't insult their stuff.
"Hey! Watch it!" Dylan growled at Skye, taking the affront to heart. He scowled at her, his blue eyes darkening with disapproval. "It's just stalled."
Dylan half-hung over the steering wheel as he twisted the key a few times, getting nothing but more sputters. Skye stared at the ignition, willing it to work. She waited, her body winding tighter and tighter, as he turned it a fourth, a fifth and a sixth time.
"I'm sorry, but I can't wait until you get it started. Excuse me." Neither of the men moved when she scooted closer to them on the seat indicating she wanted to leave.
Dylan paid her no attention as he worked, without success, on getting the truck started. Wade stared at his window, tapping his finger along it as he chased down a small, leggy bug.
"Please let me out of the truck." Jesse's house wasn't far from here. She would go back to her original plan of waiting outside the house until he came out.
The men continued to dismiss her, and a wisp of fear went through her as worry transferred from Jesse to herself. She had gotten in this truck with strangers, and she knew better. Skye looked at them again, their muscular bodies, their hard expressions, their many weapons. She bit the inside of her lip. Her alarm over Jesse had led her to do something foolish.
Panic edged her voice. "Let me out now." She gave each a hard nudge, but rock-like, neither brother moved.
Dylan turned toward her and raised an eyebrow. "Just where do ya think you're going?"
Skye's stomach lurched, but a second glance to his face showed no threat. She let out a slow breath. Regardless, perhaps it was best to go now. "Dylan, I told you where I'm going. Now let me out."
"Yeah, well, when you can get past us, you can get out. For now, you're stuck right here."
Skye's eyes widened despite her efforts to stay calm. Oh, excellent! The world is turning into a nightmare, and I'm either stuck with two of the bossiest men I've ever met or being kidnapped. She glanced over her shoulder wondering if she could fit through the truck's small slider window.
"'Sides it's gonna start. It always does."
Skye opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment, the truck fired up. Dylan gave her a triumphant glance that said he knew all along what he was doing. Skye rolled her eyes both at his haughty gaze, and the fact she was indeed stuck now. He ignored her irritation. Instead, he let a smirk curve one side of his mouth as he put the vehicle in gear and took off down the bumpy road.
Twenty-One
This Part
Skye's heart raced faster the closer they got to Jesse’s house. "Here," she said when the property came into view.
When Dylan stopped the truck, the three looked over what had once been a driveway but now seemed more like an overgrown dirt path through the trees. The only item marking it was a weathered, rusty mailbox leaning half-way over a grassy ditch, the address painted in white, uneven letters. Skye wondered if a younger Jesse drew on the postbox, or a drunk Frankie.
Tension built in the two men as they pulled in the drive. They were on alert. The strain was contagious and caused Skye's throat to dry.
Dylan eased the vehicle down the long driveway. Skye clenched the edge of the seat impatient to get to the end. She bit her lips together as Dylan halted the truck a short distance from the house and parked, then scanned the forested property.
Skye didn't see much change since the last time she visited, except perhaps, for a few more pieces of garbage in the yard. Frankie's home was little more than a falling-down wooden shack with bits of white paint claiming better days. Scavengers had devoured any food thrown out leaving containers and bottles in the sparse grass. To a passer-by, it would have seemed another derelict property, but Skye knew what this house was. A shiver trailed her spine. And what happened here.
Skye scooted up on her seat. "Let's go."
"You're staying here. We gotta make sure things are okay," Dylan said.
"They are okay. No one is out here."
"He could have a gun. There could be dogs. We
don't know what we're gettin into here."
Skye stared at Dylan. "Let me out."
Dylan continued to watch the house and yard without acknowledging her.
"You don't have to help with this part," Skye said.
Dylan snorted. “I know Frankie too.” He opened his door and got out of the car, watching for any movement as he did so.
Skye shot him a look. That wasn’t all that surprising. It was a small town. She hopped out, and squeezed around him, heading toward the door.
"Slow down," Dylan warned. Skye's only wish was to get to Jesse. If I go faster, maybe they will too. Frankie won't give me any trouble with these two standing behind me.
Skye walked the mud sidewalk to the front door. A dull smacking thud she couldn't place came to her from inside. It sounded again and again. Then a muffled cry.
Skye stumbled to a stop. It was the heavy smack of a leather belt on exposed skin.
Nauseous, Skye put a hand to her stomach and ran for the door. Jesse! The poor, poor boy! Dylan and Wade's feet thudded up the sidewalk behind her.
Conflicted emotions played across Wade's face. "This is a family matter. Best leave it alone."
Skye had no response for him but turned to Dylan. His pained expression told her he understood precisely what was going on here.
Dylan gave Skye a reassuring nod. "I'm with ya." Wade followed his brother's lead.
The front door stood ajar a few inches. Skye jerked it open the rest of the way. Her stomach quivered when she caught sight of Jesse.
He huddled against the wall, cringing in anticipation of the next blow. His shirtless body half-turned from his father to help shield himself from the attack. His skinny arm raised as if he could ward off the strike.
Frankie towered over the boy. He took another swig from the near-empty whiskey bottle he held in one hand before raising the belt again with the other. Unmoved by the welts already swelling on his son's body from this beating and the solid purple bruising remaining from the last one, Frankie staggered toward Jesse.
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.
Twenty-Two
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 Jesse would be on their way soon. This time tomorrow, we'll be sitting on Mom and Dad's back porch sipping tea.