Protecting Her Secrets (Mountain Men of Culver Springs #1)

Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Walker

We park a half mile away from the cabins. I hate to waste time walking, but we can’t give ourselves away too early. Sticking to the tree line so they don’t see us coming, we make our way closer. We aren’t certain they’ll be here, but we’re putting our trust in the Geezers.

“There’s the Plymouth,” Rowan says.

“Wait a second.” Wilder stops us. “I deputize all three of you. You’re now acting sheriff deputies in Plumas County.”

“Cool. Do I get paid too?” Rowan pulls his gun from his side holster.

“No,” Wilder grumbles.

“Damn.”

We approach the cabin slowly, though all is quiet. The door is unlocked, and Wilder instructs Ridge and Rowan to guard the door while he and I clear the inside.

The second we’re through the door, I hear a sound from the left and point my gun in that direction. A woman raises her hands. She’s naked except for a blanket. When she lifts her arms, the blanket falls to her waist, exposing tits that are probably not appropriate for a woman in her fifties.

“Don’t shoot. I’m unarmed,” she says. Her face is busted, with dried blood crusted on her nose, a fat lip, and two black eyes. The rest of her isn’t doing well either. She has bruises on every part of her showing.

“Cover yourself and stand,” Wilder says. She drapes the blanket around her and stands on unsteady legs. Wilder pats her down and instructs her to take a seat. “Is there anyone else in here?”

“No, it’s just me.”

“Where’s Skylar?” I ask, knowing this is the woman who took her, even with the bruises.

“I-I don’t know.”

I take a menacing step toward her, pointing my gun right at her fucking forehead. “Tell me where she is. I’m not playing games.”

She winces. “I really don’t know. She went t-to the bathroom, and then I heard K-Klutch say she jumped out of the window. That’s all I know. They took off after that.”

“Cabin’s clear,” Wilder says after checking the bedroom and bathroom. “The window in the bathroom is open.”

A gunshot echoes through the little valley the lake and cabin sit in. “Stay here.”

She sniffles. “I got nowhere to go.”

Wilder and I rush outside, relaying information as we head toward the trees outside the bathroom window. It would make the most sense for her to run this way. I try to tune out the fear and anxiety of Skylar being my wife and treat the situation like it’s a SAR mission, only with guns and bad guys.

“Thanks for teaching me to hunt,” I whisper to Rowan as we follow the obvious trail left behind by Skylar or the assholes who took her.

“No problem.”

Another gunshot sounds, and Wilder gestures in four different directions. If we want to find her, we have to split up a little but not get so far apart that we can’t be there to help at a moment’s notice.

I come across a fresh gouge in a tree. Klutch and his idiots wouldn’t think to leave a trail. This has to be Skylar. We’ve had many conversations about my work with SAR, and this was the first thing I taught her.

“Good girl,” I say.

I follow the breadcrumbs she left, my fear ratcheting up each time I hear a gunshot. My goal is to find Skylar, not the bikers—though if I find one of them, I’ll have no problem showing them what I think about them kidnapping my woman.

To my left, I see Rowan, and to my right is Wilder. I keep them in my periphery as we trek through the trees. We don’t necessarily travel deeper into the forest as much as we travel in a giant ass circle. After about twenty minutes, we pick up the voices of men. They’re not even trying to be quiet, stomping around and shouting to each other. They’ve done like we did and split up. I think I can hear four distinct voices, but I can’t be sure.

We have a better chance of taking them down all at once rather than one at a time, and Wilder seems to agree as he motions for us to proceed. I’m all too pleased when I set my sights on Klutch. He’s making too much noise to hear me approach as I position myself behind him.

I wait for Rowan and Wilder to both give me a nod before stepping behind Klutch and cocking my gun, just to add a little drama.

“Don’t move a fucking muscle.”

“That you, Walker?”

“Just give me a reason to blow your head off. I dare you.”

Despite being a hunter, I’ve never killed a human and don’t want to start now, but if it comes down to my life or his, I will press the trigger and sleep like a baby tonight.

“I gotta give you credit. You found us a lot quicker than I thought. Though if my bitch fiancée didn’t run, you would’ve missed us.”

“Drop your gun,” I say. “And she’s my wife, not your fiancée.”

“Whatever you say.” He tosses his gun, and I take a step back.

“Now put your hands up and turn around slowly.”

“I’m not out here alone. One call to my buddies, and you’ll be surrounded.”

“I’m not here alone either, and your buddies are a little preoccupied right about now.”

My mistake is glancing to the side to make sure everything is okay with my friends. Klutch was expecting it and takes the opportunity to grab my arm and point it upward. My finger presses the trigger, firing off a round into the air.

I struggle to gain control of my own damn arm, but the asshole is strong. I can’t get far enough to land a punch with any momentum, and with him angled toward me, I can’t kick either. So I do the only thing I know: I grab him by his stupid vest and headbutt him.

The key to a good head butt is to land a thick part of your skull against a vulnerable part of your opponent’s. Since I’m taller, the only technique I can use is to drop low and ram my head up into the side of his jaw, dislocating it.

He howls in pain, but it only seems to piss him off, not weaken him. When he tackles me to the ground, I hold onto my pistol with all my might. I can’t let him get control, or it’ll be lights out for me. He has my hand pinned to the ground, not to mention the rest of me. Rocks and branches dig painfully into my back, but the adrenaline helps me ignore it.

He mumbles something unintelligible, his jaw unable to close with it out of place. I try to worm my knee between us, but I get derailed when he slams my hand onto the ground over and over, trying to get me to drop the gun. I feel a bone or two break as I realize he made sure there’s a rock under it.

I feel the gun slip from my hand, and I crane my head and watch in horror as he grabs it and sits up, pointing it right at my chest. I’d never survive a shot at point-blank range. Turns out, time does slow down, and you do see your life flash before your eyes when you think you’re about to die.

In a split second, I feel the weight of everything I never got to experience, like growing old with Skylar or watching our baby grow, but I also feel the joy of everything I did get to experience. I had the privilege of falling in love with the most amazing woman to ever exist, and then I had the privilege to fall in love with her all over again. She was the best thing to ever happen to me, and my only regret is not forcing her to run away with me all those years ago.

The gun fires in slow motion. I see the spark as it leaves the barrel, and what feels like an eternity later, I feel it pierce through my flesh, tearing up my insides. Coughing, I gaze up at the sky between the trees, praying my friends rescue Skylar. I trust they’ll take care of her.

Before my heart stops beating, a heavy weight falls on me, and I’m suddenly covered in something wet, warm, and metallic-smelling. Blood. Is it my own? Why am I still alive? And what the hell is on top of me?

Glancing down, I come eye-to-eye with Klutch. He looks absolutely terrified as he chokes and gurgles. Blood is pouring from his nose and mouth, and when I follow the river of blood soaking me to his neck, I spot the wooden handle of the switchblade Rowan gave Skylar.

“No. Please, God, no.” Skylar’s shaky voice calls out, and then she’s standing over me, trying her best to get the bleeding man off me. The life in his eyes is gone, and I know he’s dead, just like I should be. Except I’m still here.

I place my hands on Klutch’s chest, but a sharp, shooting pain forces my left arm back down, followed by my right. Apparently, the bullet hit my left shoulder, and my right hand is definitely broken. So instead, I help Skylar with my knee, rolling him off me. I’m disgusted at the amount of blood on me, but I’m so fucking grateful to be alive. Skylar must’ve stabbed him right as he was pulling the trigger.

“Oh my god, you’re alive,” she sobs, falling on top of me, not caring that I’m wearing a blood suit.

“You saved my life,” I murmur into her hair. “Are you okay? What about the baby?”

“I feel fine, but my Aunt Amy drugged me, and I don’t know what with.”

“We’ll get you checked out right away. You sure you’re okay?”

“Physically, yeah. I got away before he could hurt me.”

“I need you to tell me all about it, but that can wait. Fuck, I was so scared.” I wince when she pushes against my left arm.

“What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?”

“He got me in the shoulder, and my right hand’s busted.”

She’s off me in a heartbeat. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t go. I just got you back.”

Her nose scrunches. “You’re covered in blood.” She looks down at her body. “Now I am too.” She turns green before she doubles over and vomits all over Klutch’s back. It’s the kind of send-off he deserves.

I sit up, needing to check on my friends, even though there’s fuck all I’d be able to do to help them. All three of them have their biker pricks in zip ties. Apparently, I’m the only idiot who let my adversary one-up me, though Wilder does have a bloody nose.

“You good?” Rowan asks.

“Yeah. Probably need Dr. Rivera to take a look, but I’m alive. This guy is dead dead, though. Sorry, Wilder; you might have some paperwork to fill out.”

“Am I going to get in trouble for killing him? Oh my God, I can’t go to prison,” Skylar cries. She’s in shock; of course she’s drawing conclusions and panicking.

“No, Sky. You’re all good. It was in defense of a life,” Wilder says.

“Though I’d venture to guess Walker’s gonna wanna handcuff you to his bed for a few days,” Rowan adds.

“Doesn’t look like he’ll be doing anything that requires both arms or hands for a while,” Ridge mutters.

“You guys are all assholes.” I try to stand on my own, but without the use of my hands, it’s damn near impossible. Thankfully, Rowan helps with minimal ribbing. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Ambulance is on its way, along with a welcome wagon for these assholes,” Wilder says.

My three friends start the trek out of the forest while I limp behind, Skylar helping the best she can.

“I’m so sorry, Walker. I never thought Aunt Amy would trick me like that.” The words catch in her throat, emotion heavy in her tone.

“Shh. It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll talk about it later. Right now, the most important thing is making sure you and the baby are okay.”

She sniffles and nods. I don’t dare voice my concern that the club will want retribution for the death of their president, but if today proved anything, it’s that I’ll protect my family at all costs. I don’t want to leave Culver Springs, but if moving out of the club’s reach is what it takes, then that’s what’ll happen.

It’s a conversation for another time because her current emotional and physical health are my priority. It’ll take some time to work through all the trauma, but she’ll have me to help however she needs, and I have no doubt she’ll come out stronger on the other side.

Dusk is settling over the lake and cabins when we emerge from the forest. Sirens blare in the distance, and my friends have their three criminals sitting cross-legged on the ground. Outside the cabin, Wilder is talking to the naked woman.

Skylar stiffens, avoiding looking in that direction. I can’t imagine how seeing her must make her feel. The woman betrayed her, but she was also a victim today. Protectively, I wrap the arm with the broken hand around her, drawing her closer.

“We don’t have to deal with everything all at once,” I say. “One step at a time, Sunny. One step at a time.”