Chapter Fifteen
“Never again, will your kind possess,
What you seek to throw away,”
Her voice was hard and six eyes assessed,
The coyote’s avarice ways.
Lyrics from the folk song “Crossroads Coyote”
The night was filled with flashing lights and animated voices.
The bar fight had been the biggest ta-doo in Red River Valley since those prairie dogs were busted for selling dangerous potions underground. The horrible aroma of burnt leather had given away their operation, because that telltale scent indicated Hasten-2. It led right back to the prairie dogs’ vast network of burrows.
However, this saloon brawl was far more exciting than some artists inadvertently destroying their creativity with illicit magic.
The fight happened right in the middle of town, so everyone could gather and watch the fun. Each person who’d been in the Lone Prairie had an opinion on how it all went down. They were eager to share their views with news crews and lookie-loos alike.
Desert Pete, the Lone Prairie’s owner, was showing reporters pictures of the damage. “Like a bucking bronco got loose in the joint!” was his favorite description, so he kept repeating it into various microphones. “I never shoulda let a damned coyote through the door.”
Saloon patrons chatted amongst themselves or filmed the chaotic scene with their phones. Most of them were just thrilled to have gotten out of paying their bar tabs.
Stew was whining to anyone who would listen. His arm was in a sling, because Bill had snapped it in two. That was a real cryin’ shame. But it wasn’t half as painful as what Bill would do to him, once the authorities weren’t watching. …Real quiet and indirect.
Nobody touched his mate.
The “stolen” part of the title had faded from his mind, somehow. Clem was rightfully his . His mate. No one else’s.
Clementine was standing with a cop, a few yards away, giving her statement. The guy was huge. Colossally huge, with dark skin, dark eyes, and a dark scowl. There was a tin star on his chest, which meant he was the sheriff.
Wonderful.
The sheriff didn’t seem happy to be hearing whatever it was she had to say. He kept shaking his head in frustration and occasionally jabbing a lecturing sort of finger at her. He’d also wiped at her arms and hair with a red bandana, making sure she was cleaned up from the beer that had been flying around during the fight.
Clementine was sassing him back, even as she stood still and let him tend her.
Who was this guy and how did Clem know him so well? Their obvious closeness was worrisome. It reminded Bill that Dinah had insinuated that the sheriff was bonded to Clem somehow.
He didn’t like that idea. At all.
Bill was the only person in a three-block radius not talking. He sat quietly on a bale of hay, handcuffed and waiting to be formally arrested. He figured he was gonna take the blame for the fight. All the other punches being thrown would be glossed over. If a coyote was present and mayhem happened, it was the coyote’s fault.
“That maniac belongs behind bars!” Once the witch-practitioner finished patching Stew up, the jackass was headed Bill’s way. “I wanna press charges! I wanna testify to my pain and suffering!”
Clementine left the gargantuan sheriff, so she could rush in front of Stew. She stood between him and Bill, like she was ready to fight the man herself. “Leave him alone! You’re the one who started this!”
Fuck.
“Clem, no .” Bill got to his feet. “Don’t go near him.”
“He started it.” She repeated stubbornly.
“I know, but you can’t be under stress. It’s bad for your health and that’s more important than some pissed-off railroader.” Not to mention that Stew was twice her size. “Come on over here by me.”
She immediately headed his way.
“Clementine, don’t you dare.” The sheriff snapped, striding over. “Get away from both of them. Right now.”
Clem didn’t quite obey that order. She just eased closer to Bill at a slower rate.
Not satisfied, the sheriff crooked a massive finger at her. “ Now .” He repeated sternly.
The man’s proprietary tone had Bill’s hackles rising. The sheriff was acting as if he had rights over Clementine.
That just wasn’t gonna work for Bill.
“She’s fine standin’ by me.” He told the sheriff emphatically.
The sheriff flashed him a glare. “I say she’s not.”
Bill’s eyes narrowed.
“Hank, you’re not even listening to me!” Clem didn’t return to the sheriff, as he’d commanded, but she did stop moving towards Bill’s side. Like maybe she wouldn’t outright defy the man. Like maybe he did have a claim on her.
Yeah, that really wasn’t gonna work for Bill. He wasn’t fixin’ to share his mate.
“I’ve been listening to you for half an hour.” Hank-the-cop told Clem in a long-suffering way. “So far, you’ve told me all about,” he consulted his notepad, “Bill’s blue shirt. Bill’s new job. Bill’s spectacular guitar performance.”
“Oh, it was spectacular.” Clementine agreed. “He has such talent.”
“Then, you expounded on all the ways that Bill is kind and generous.” Hank continued, unaware or uncaring that Bill was plotting his death. “Then you explained that Bill loves your chocolate chip cookies. And that Bill likes home improvement shows, because he’s so handy. And that he’s your new business partner and incredibly generous.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“You explained that Bill is your best, best friend. And that Bill is your roommate now.” Hank fixed her with a pointed look. “I told you Johnny was an ass, didn’t I?”
Clem made a face at him. “Who cares about Johnny? This is about Bill!”
“ Everything is about Bill tonight, as far as I can see.” Hank flipped his notebook closed. “You haven’t shut up about him since I got here.”
“Because he’s being treated so unfairly. That jerk should be in chains, not Bill.” She gestured towards Stew, indignation on her face.
Stew gasped in outrage. “I’m the damn victim here! I’ve been attacked by a wild coyote. The whole bar saw him throw me…”
“Only because you grabbed me first!” Clementine interrupted.
Hank’s dark gaze pinned Stew like a switchblade through a scorpion. “You put your hands on Miss Miner?”
Stew flinched at the sheriff’s arctic tone, refusing to answer.
“Didn’t I tell you that part?” Clementine looked back towards Hank, blinking her big eyes. She’d evidently been so busy expounding on Bill’s many sterling qualities that she’d skipped over the drunken asshole accosting her in a bar. “That’s why Bill hit him.”
Hank glanced Bill’s way appraisingly.
Bill stared back at him.
“Really, I had it all under control.” Clem went on. “You know I can look after myself. You taught me how.” Apparently deciding they were back on the right track, she smiled up at Hank.
Bill hated it when she smiled at other men. He knew what her happy grin did to his insides. He could only assume the same dazzled, desperate emotions swamped all males, whenever she directed it their way.
Not that Bill was the jealous type. Clem was friendly and cheerful and liked people. Nothing wrong with that. It surely wasn’t her fault that so many sons of bitches would want to steal her away. Bill treasured Clem just as she was, so he wouldn’t change her innocent, outgoing nature. Not for the world.
He’d simply bought himself a shovel, because he foresaw a future filled with dead men in need of lonely desert graves.
“I never touched that little skank.” Stew decided. He was dead man number one. He just didn’t know it yet. “No respectable girl would be livin’ with a coyote. She’s probably a hooker, looking to get paid.”
The chain on Bill’s handcuffs snapped. He didn’t consciously break it. The creature inside of him was just very strong and very pissed. The metal gave way and he was headed for Stew, fully prepared to kill him, witnesses or not.
“Bill!” Clem dashed into his path. “Honey, your artistic temperament is all riled up.”
“Clem,” he tried to step around her, but she moved again to block him, “just let me deal with Stew, alright? I promise I won’t hurt my hands.”
“You keep that mangy animal away from me!” Stew cried righteously. “I won’t… hey! ” He gave a sudden yelp as Hank slapped handcuffs onto him. “What are you doing?”
“Arresting you for instigating a bar fight and physically assaulting a woman.”
“But I told you I didn’t do it!” Stew sounded insulted. “You believe that bitch’s word over mine?”
“I believe my sister’s word over anybody.” Hank snapped, twisting Stew’s broken arm hard enough for the man to shout in pain.
Bill’s brows lifted in surprise. Hank was one of Clem’s brothers? Damnation, that made a world of difference! His animosity towards the man evaporated into relief.
Stew’s eyes bugged out. “She’s your sister? No fucking way!”
“Yes fucking way.” Clem chimed in triumphantly. “Hank is my foster brother. I lived with the Bunyon family, after my parents died.” She looked up at Bill. “They specialized in hard-to-place kids. Most of the foster homes in Red River Valley are run by humans, you see. I was a muse, so child services didn’t think I’d fit in there.”
“You fit in with humans, just fine. You fit in with everybody.” No one could be around Clementine and not crave her warmth.
Clem hesitated. “Well, I guess it was more the human foster-mothers didn’t want a teenage muse hanging around the foster-fathers. People assume we’ll try to seduce every man we meet, even though…” She trailed off with an uncomfortable shrug. “I mean, I wouldn’t have done that. It wouldn’t even have occurred to me.”
Bill’s jaw tightened. Fucking idiots.
“But, the Bunyons were very kind to me, even though they typically took in boys.” Clem rushed to say. “They understood what it’s like for rarer species. And Hank was there, too! He’s a mountain man and they can be scary, if people don’t get to know them. They’re very large.”
“Yep. I can see that.”
Hank smirked at him, no doubt envisioning how he could crush Bill like sagebrush under a boot heel. The “mountain man” name was apt for his species, given the sheriff’s geological proportions.
Clem beamed. “The Bunyons are great with mountain men. Their biological son Paul is one. I told you about my foster family, right?”
“You mentioned you had big brothers.” Bill allowed.
“Well, this is one of the biggest. John Henry.” She pointed towards the sheriff. “Everyone calls him Hank.”
“Nice to meet ya.” Bill said politely.
Hank didn’t seem to agree. “So you almost killed this dickhead, because he grabbed Clem?” He held Stew by the scruff of the neck.
Stew wailed louder than a cat in a cooking pot.
Bill canted his head to one side. “You looking for a confession, Sheriff?” He asked, raising his voice so Hank could hear him over all the bellyaching.
“I’m looking for an answer.”
Bill weighed his options and went with the truth. Honesty always worked best, he found. “Stew put his hands on Clementine, so I put my hands on him.”
Hank grunted. “Well, you and I are about to have a conversation, during which I may or may not put my hands on you .”
It sounded like a threat, because it was a threat.
“Seems fair.” Bill was feeling all kinds of obliging, now that he understood the sheriff saw Clem as a kid sister. Why, him and Hank were family, now.
“Stop being so paranoid.” Clem snapped at her brother. “Bill is a peaceful artist.”
Hank wasn’t buying it.
It amused Bill some that Clem’s brother so obviously didn’t trust him. He was Bad, of course. And a coyote. Not many folks did trust him, but Hank regarded Bill with the wariness usually reserved for a sleeping rattlesnake. Like he sensed that Bill could be a much bigger threat than his present circumstances let on.
“Pecos Bill is free to go.” Hank decided, not real happy about it.
Stew immediately started protesting that decision, even as another officer came over and led him away. He should be grateful that the cops saved his life. …Or maybe not. Death would’ve been quick. Now, Bill would destroy Stew in a quiet, indirect way, so the suffering went on and on. That would be much more satisfying.
“Take my sister home and put her to bed.” Hank told Bill, ignoring Stew’s shrieks about grave legal injustice. “Her own bed.”
Bill tended to struggle with authority figures. He accepted that failing in himself. No man was perfect, after all. So, Hank’s words instantly conjured the idea of Clem sleeping beside Bill that very night and he didn’t do a thing to dispel it. The picture seemed real natural, in fact.
“Hank!” Clem flushed bright red. “Bill has never suggested anything remotely inappropriate with me.”
Hank’s eyes flicked back to Bill, a cynical expression on his face.
Bill smiled his most harmless smile.
Hank wasn’t impressed. “Playing the long game, huh? Yeah, you look clever enough to know how to bide your time.”
Bill’s smile became more genuine. It was nice to have another fella to play with. Johnny never had been much fun. “Thank you, Sheriff. I sure appreciate that compliment.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.” Hank tossed a key to Clementine, so she could undo the broken cuffs on Bill’s hand. “Tell me again what happened with The Yellow Roses, Clem.”
“Johnny fired me.”
“Just out-of-the-blue up and fired her, huh?” Hank’s attention was fixed on Bill. “That was real, real lucky for you, wasn’t it?”
“One man’s loss is another man’s gain.” Bill mused philosophically.
“You and Johnny don’t get along, I’m guessing.”
“Why, I never had a cross word with John, until today.”
“What happened today?”
“Oh, Hank. Johnny was completely out of line, earlier.” Clementine lamented. “He was shouting at poor Bill! I think Johnny wanted to hit him.”
“Shocking.”Hank deadpanned.
“I hardly even recognize Johnny anymore.” Clem fiddled with Bill’s handcuffs, trying to get the key to fit. “He’s done things that were hurtful, before. But lately, he’s been erratic and selfish and downright bigoted. I just won’t tolerate that.”
“The guy’s been finding opportunities to grow as a professional shithead ever since high school.” Hank said, like Johnny’s plentiful shortcomings were a frequent topic of conversation. “He was just better at hiding it, because he needed you. He still needs you.”
Bill frowned. Any talk of “needing” made him uneasy.
“If that narcissistic idiot is spiraling, it could be a problem.” Hank’s dislike of Johnny was palpable. Bill admired that. “Trust me. I meet some real dangerous characters in this line of work.” His gaze skimmed over Bill. “They’re always prowling around.”
“And the worst ones are probably hiding right in plain sight.” Bill commiserated.
Hank wasn’t at all reassured by that response. His attention switched back to Clementine. “The bottom line is this: Johnny considers you his own private cheerleader. Now, you’ve stopped telling him how special he is and instead, you’re with this guy?” Hank gestured towards Bill. “It’s gonna eat that manipulative prick alive. That’s why he’s freaking out.”
Clementine’s forehead wrinkled in thought.
“I think you’re onto something, Sheriff.” Bill liked to give credit where credit was due. “Seems Johnny don’t like me much, these days.”
Clementine patted his arm in solidarity. “The way he’s acting isn’t on you, honey.”
Bill nodded, accepting that Johnny was fully to blame. For everything. Always.
Hank watched him, perhaps sensing Bill’s un-regret over the fractured relationship. With an irritated sigh, he turned back to Clem. “You want me to talk to Johnny?”
“It won’t do any good.” Clementine sounded resigned. “Johnny never listens to anybody. I’m just glad I don’t have to live with him anymore, because he’s become insufferable.”
“Why exactly is Clem your roommate now, when she could move in with me or my brothers?” Hank wanted to know, back to glaring at Bill.
“Oh no, I’m not living with any of you.” Clementine scoffed. “No way. I still remember the wolfball matches in the living room, and all the nosy questions, and how I never got any hot water in the shower.”
“We were kids.” Hank protested.
“That was last summer, when we went on family vacation to the Big Rock Candy Mountains.” She got the locks on Bill’s wrists unfastened. “Now, can you at least pretend to be nice? You’re going to frighten Bill into thinking my whole family is scary.”
Hank lifted a shoulder, as if to say, “Well, it’s true, so why hide it?” “How long are you staying in this guy’s apartment?”
“Haaaaaaaank…” Clem groaned, exactly the way she surely had when she was a teenager, and she thought her big brother was being overprotective.
“It’s hard to say for sure how long she’ll live there.” Bill volunteered helpfully. “The whole situation is temporary.”
Clem blinked. “What do you mean temporary? You want me to move out?”
“I want us both to move out of that dump.” Clementine deserved the best and Bill would see that she got it. “Sooner or later, we’ll get us a finer place.”
Her eyes brightened. “I have always wanted to live somewhere with a tree in the yard! Do you think one day we could rent somewhere with a tree in the yard?”
“One day, I’ll buy you a house surrounded by trees.”
Hank crossed his gigantic arms over his gigantic chest. “You probably don’t want to tie yourself to this guy through homeownership, Clem. What if you find your True Love and want to move out?” He gestured towards Bill. “Coyotes can’t have True Loves.”
Bill’s teeth ground together.
“I think the whole True Love thing is overrated.” Clem opined. “And Bill has a lot of interest in real estate. Didn’t you hear me telling you about that house-flipping show we watch?”
Hank pretended not to hear that either. “You understand they will never find your body if you hurt my sister, don’t cha?” He challenged Bill. “I only put up with Johnny, because he never laid a hand on her. I found that reassuring. I’m not getting that same kind of reassurance from you.”
“Why, I’d never hurt Clementine.”
But that wasn’t what Hank meant and they both knew it.
“You’re so gallant.” Clem rubbed Bill’s wrists, like she was worried about his blood flow. “I wish you’d think about yourself, a little more. You might’ve been hurt tonight. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you, Bill.”
“I’m fine, darlin’. Don’t you worry.” Bill kissed her forehead, his gaze locked on Hank. “I’m not going nowhere.”
“Suddenly I miss that asshole Johnny.” Hank rolled his eyes, as someone called his name. “I’ve got to go deal with this mess. Clem, we’re not done discussing your ‘temporary’ living arrangements.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She hurried over to kiss his cheek, which necessitated him bending almost in half so she could reach it. “I love you, but you’re a dictator.”
“I’m your brother. It’s my job.” He ruffled her hair, his hand encompassing most of her skull. “ Your job is to listen to me, so work on that.” He went stalking off. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He warned over his shoulder. “And call me tomorrow.”
“I’m so not calling him tomorrow.” Clem whispered to Bill, coming back to his side. “He’ll lecture me for hours. My brothers think I’m ditzy.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry about all of this. Especially about your big night getting ruined.”
“Nothin’s ruined, if you’re here with me.” The leftover aggression in his body was morphing into lust. Bill was used to controlling himself around Clem, so he didn’t scare her, but having her so close made him drunk on her scent. “You sure you’re okay, baby?” He murmured, trying to hold back his desire. It darkened his voice.
For some reason, the rougher tone sent a shiver through her. “Yes.” She whispered back. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can’t believe you were handcuffed. What if they’d cut off circulation to your fingers?”
“I can feel all ten of ‘em.” Bill promised. “You think you could rub my arms some, though?”
Her hands slipped up to his biceps. “Do they hurt?”
Bill melted beneath her soothing touch. “Not much.” He told her truthfully, because he’d never lie to Clem. He just wanted her hands on him.
She made a small noise that said she didn’t believe his denial and kept massaging.
He was uncomfortably hard and losing higher brain functions. Did he move back from her, though? Hell no. He dipped his head to inhale more of her sweet fragrance.
“Better?” She asked breathlessly, still stroking his arms.
“ So much better.” Her touch made every part of him better. He just wished the sleeves of his shirt weren’t between them, so he could feel her skin. “Every time you leave my side, you end up in trouble, you know that?”
“That’s not true.”
He arched a brow. “Somehow I keep losing jobs, too. This is the fourth one this week.”
“That’s only sometimes my fault. Besides, you were too good for this place.”
“I’m just gonna have to keep you closer, I think. I don’t like it when you’re outta my sight, anyhow.”
His va-va-voom vixen drew in a deep breath, so the tips of her breasts grazed his chest. The contact made her gasp, and she suddenly seemed to realize she was pressed against him. She tried to shift back, but Bill didn’t let her get far.
Instead, he put his palms on her waist. “Now what did I just say?” He scolded. “You stay right here with me, like a Good girl. Tell me more about that coyote kid.”
Surprised green eyes flashed up to his, as he kept her still. Her hands remained on his arms and he could feel the jut of her nipples against his chest. Oh yeah, this was right where she belonged. He made a soothing sort of sound, wanting her gentled to his touch.
It seemed to be working. Her expression was a little dazed, but she wasn’t trying to retreat.
“Clem?” He prompted, when she gazed at him.
She swallowed. “Um… I’m sorry, what were we talking about?”
“That coyote boy. What was he doing here?”
“Well, I didn’t invite Luke to dinner, exactly …but I kind of did invite him?”
Bill sighed in exasperation.
“He’s just a kid.” Clem defended. “I’m sorry he was so upset with you. He’s very moody.”
Luke was a miserable little shit. He’d been willing to throw down with Bill over Clem getting food, though, so it was hard to write him off as completely useless. Not impossible . Just hard.
“I don’t think his attitude had anything to do with you.” Clem assured him. “I think he had a rough home life and now he’s on his own. It’s difficult to be a teenager without parents. Trust me. I know.”
Sometimes it was easier without parents. Not when they were kind and caring, like Clementine’s had been. But when they were selfish, abusive shitbags, they were better off gone. Just ask Bill. He did his best to forget his father even existed. An angry coyote could be dangerous to a child.
And a woman.
Luke had clearly internalized that same lesson. He saw Bill as a threat to a compassionate, cheerful angel of a girl, who had no idea she was in over her head. The kid was right. Bill wasn’t a physical danger to Clementine, but he’d sure as hell hijacked her life. She had no idea just how trapped she was. From the outside looking in, Bill was the clear villain of the tale.
And, like all true villains, he didn’t give a shit.
“I would never hurt you.” He reiterated, making sure she knew that much.
“I know.” She smiled at him. “It’s Luke’s pain talking. Let him adjust to you and he’ll see how nice you are.”
Bill doubted all the cops and medical teams agreed with her about his “niceness.”
“Luke’s struggling.” Clem persisted. “Emotionally and financially. He’s going to be homeless soon. Woody said he was evicting him tomorrow. Luke was starving when I gave him that pizza, like he hadn’t eaten for days on end.”
“Lots of coyote kids don’t eat for days on end.” Bill had gone hungry countless times.
Clem looked at him. “Your childhood was like Luke’s.” It wasn’t a guess. Her palms rubbed up and down his arms, soothingly now. Hearing all the things he wasn’t putting into words. With Clem, he never had to talk much to communicate everything important.
“It’s better not to need people.” Bill muttered for absolutely no particular reason, at all. “Then they can’t break you when they leave.”
“What if they don’t leave?”
He lifted one shoulder. “Why would they stay?”
“Because you are a wonderful person, Bill. And very strong. Tonight, you went from the triumph of your first solo performance, to Hank nearly arresting you, to all these harrowing memories resurfacing. I think it’s inspiring how well you’ve endured it. So many artists would have crumbled under the trauma.”
“I find the secret to dealing with trauma is to look outside myself.” …So he could find some other motherfucker to inflict trauma on.
She nodded. “I know you like to focus on the people around you. It’s your nature to give. But we’re going to concentrate on you, right now, and not just bottle up your feelings. Is there anything I can do to help you process all this?”
“You do plenty for me.”
“But I want to help more .”
Bill was never a man to miss an opportunity. Her brother had given him an idea and here was the perfect chance to see it through. “Would you consider sleeping in my bed tonight?”
Her lips parted.
“Just to sleep.” He assured her swiftly. “I promise.”
“Would that help you feel safer?”
“You know, I really think it would.” With her tucked in beside him, nothing could steal her away. His life and heart would be much more secure.
Not that coyotes had hearts.
She chewed on her lower lip. “I sleep with a light on. I’ve been scared of the dark, ever since the mining accident.”
Maybe he had been the lucky one to have useless parents. Maybe it was better than losing loving ones. Needing them and having them ripped away must have been a horrific blow. No wonder it still haunted her. “How about we bring your nightlight into my room?”
“That would work. If you’re sure it’ll really help you to have me there.”
“Darlin’, I’m positive .”