Chapter Seventeen
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE AIR IS THICK and muggy today. It has been since I got out to the fence this morning. While the sky looks like it could unleash its fury at any moment, it has yet to do so. Until it does, I’ll continue mending the fence. I need the space to think after last night. Even though I only got a few hours of sleep (if that), I was out of the house well before Joseph and Charlie got up this morning, thankfully. I wasn’t ready to face that beast, yet. I was grateful to find Joseph had restocked the coffee. There was no way I would make it through today without it. The thought crossed my mind as I prepped the pot this morning that maybe I should talk to Joseph about moving out.
Joseph tries to hide his concerns, but I think it’s obvious things around the ranch are tight—tighter than before. I notice it whenever conversations about money or needing materials get brought up, or when Charlie goes out one too many nights a week. I can’t help but wonder if I’m part of the cause, too. I’ve considered asking Joseph to cut the small stipend he started giving me, but I don’t think that talk would go over very well.
If I move out but still work around the ranch, it might alleviate some of Joseph’s concerns. It might diminish some of the tension with Charlie, too. If I stick around, I think it’ll only make things worse.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention and goosebumps rise across my skin as I finish securing one of the barbed wire knots. The weight of a heavy presence draws my attention over my shoulder and I sigh. “Fuck.” The word slips past my lips when the two figures approach.
They’ve come to finish the job, and something tells me this will be a fight to the death…literally. What was it Dakota said the other day in town? You’re supposed to be dead. That means I’ve already won before, right? Maybe I can do it again…
“If you’re looking for Charlie, you’ve come to the wrong place,” I say, standing from my position on the ground.
“You best stay away from my girl.”
“Your girl?” I laugh. “That’s not what she told me.”
“Better be careful. Wouldn’t want your wife to find out you’ve been stepping out on her while you’ve been gone,” Dakota says with a wicked grin.
What did he say? Your wife . Wife…I have a wife?
I look between them and a smirk tugs on Cooper’s face when he realizes my confusion. “She’s been raising holy hell to find you, too. I’m surprised the feds haven’t stormed the castle by now.”
My heart stops at the thought as the image of the woman plaguing me since I arrived in Bezer fills my mind. It has to be her. My wife. And she’s looking for me—has been looking for me. Raising holy hell to find you , is what Dakota just said. So, why hasn’t she found me? Shouldn’t the police know where to find me if I’m in the missing person database?
“My wife?” I ask.
Cooper rolls his eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t remember.”
My lack of response is enough to elicit a laugh of disbelief from them. Dakota clamps down on Cooper’s shoulder. “Oh, this is rich! You mean you really don’t remember? I thought Old Man Red was blowing smoke up my ass.”
“Kind of takes the fun out of killing you,” Cooper adds.
My hand tightens around the pair of pliers I’m holding—not that they’ll do me any good compared to whatever these two have in their arsenal.
“Maybe—” Dakota glances at his counterpart before he smiles my way. “Maybe we oughta pay her a visit, too.”
My words come out between gritted teeth. “Touch her and I’ll kill you myself.”
A chuckle rumbles in Cooper’s chest as he reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a black square—a wallet. Flipping it open, Cooper studies something inside the wallet before looking up at me. He nods and tosses it over to Dakota. “What do you say, Koda? That him?”
Dakota does the same, but when he looks up at me, there’s a hint of mischief in his eye. “I don’t know, hair’s a bit different. But I think he could pass.”
“I wonder if he still could with his face caved in?” This time when Cooper makes his threat, he takes a step closer, and I see the oversized blade at his side.
Shit.
What good are a pair of pliers going to do against that? That’s like bringing a knife to a gunfight.
Wait.
Gun. I have the gun Joseph gave me just in case , especially when I’m out in the fields. The last thing you’d want is to be caught out here empty-handed if something snuck up on you. Little did I know it would be two things.
Dakota moves at the same time Cooper does, coming around the side. They’re going to try to pin me against the fence. I could run for the truck—for the gun—but Dakota could easily intercept me.
I have to do something. I can’t stand here and wait for them to finish me off. I have to try and fight. I have a wife waiting for me. If I walk out of this alive, I’m going straight to Sloan to tell him.
My feet are heavy the first few paces toward the truck. Realistically, it’s only about ten feet, but it feels like a damn football field in this moment. Cooper yells something at Dakota and when I reach the truck, one of them grabs hold of my shoulder and throws me back onto the hard dirt. The impact steals the breath from my lungs and sends a jolt through my skull. I cry out when Dakota steps onto my injured hand before he applies all his weight when he sits on top of me. He lands a blow to my left cheek and another to the side of my face. I extend my good arm toward the pliers on the ground barely out of reach. My finger grazes the handle, and I gently ease them between my fingers until I can grasp them and slam them against Dakota’s temple. The blow only temporarily stuns him, and the look of fury in his eyes when he composes himself tells me I better do something fast.
I punch him in the ribs three times and slam the pliers against the same temple before finally leveraging him off me. I try to scramble to my feet, but Cooper is already there. He grabs hold of my ankle, slamming my face back into the dirt. He raises the machete in the air and I twist to try and use my other leg to kick his chest, but the blows don’t land properly and he twists my ankle into an odd direction—the same ankle that had been sprained a year ago.
Gunshots ring through the air before hoofs against the dirt ride up to meet us. Joseph holds a shotgun toward the sky as he and Lady approach the scene. Getting closer, he lowers the gun, aiming directly at Cooper’s head. “One move and I’ll drop you both right here.”
Cooper chuckles, dropping my ankle and sending me crashing to the earth. “Oh, c’mon, Joe! Don’t be like that.”
“I don’t care if you have Red in your back pocket. This is my property and not only are you trespassing, but you’re assaulting one of my employees. I’m within my rights.”
“We weren’t meanin’ no trouble, Joe,” Dakota says, rubbing his head.
“You okay, Xavier?” Joe asks without looking.
“Fine,” I say, pushing myself up from the ground.
“You hurt?”
“Nothin’ I can’t handle.” I wince applying weight to my ankle—it’ll be sore, but I can live with it.
Joseph motions toward the road in the distance, speaking to Cooper and Dakota, “Unless you want Red to find your brains scattered across my field, I suggest you get moving.”
Cooper narrows his gaze at me before he turns back to Joseph, the blade still dangling between his fingertips. I don’t trust him, and I sure don’t trust Dakota. They won’t give up this easily, not when I’m within their reach. They’ve waited long enough. They want to finish the job. Dakota reaches into his waist and I lift the gun from the holster between the seat and center console—another thing Joseph suggested when he realized I’d been keeping it in the glove compartment. “I’d think twice before doing that,” I say, aiming the barrel at Dakota.
Dakota looks at me and then at his friend. Lady stamps her feet and huffs in anticipation, but no one moves, locked in a standoff no one seems ready to lose. From here, I can see Joseph apply a little more pressure to the trigger, and finally Cooper relents.
“This isn’t over,” Cooper says.
“Step foot on my property again Hayes and I’ll make sure you never leave.” Joseph continues to follow his every move with the barrel as Cooper and Dakota begin their retreat. Only when they turn their backs and get a few more yards away does he finally lower the gun, never taking his eyes off them until they’ve disappeared down the highway. “Sure you’re okay?”
“Fine,” I say, rolling my shoulders and touching my cheek. I’m sure it’s bruised, I can already feel it swelling beneath the skin. “Maybe it’ll knock something loose.”
Joseph chuckles. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Thank you. If you hadn’t shown up—”
“I’ve been looking for an excuse to do that since the day Charlie brought him home her sophomore year.” Joseph stuffs the gun into the holster on his back. “Seems like they’ve taken a liking to you. You know ’em?”
“I don’t, but apparently they know me.”
“What’d they say?”
“Not much. Said I was supposed to be dead…and I have a wife.”
Joseph leans forward a bit on the saddle horn. “She lookin’ for ya?”
“Raising holy hell, too, according to them.”
“Where she at then?” Joseph rights himself, tugging on the reins to direct Lady back the way they came. He poses a good question—one that I need to ask Sloan. If he and the sheriff had put my picture out there, why hadn’t she shown up yet? “Well, pack up and come on back to the house. I was ’bout to start dinner before Charlie goes to work. Fair warning, she seems to be a bit in a mood.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And from now on, Xavier”—Joseph looks back over his shoulder—“you don’t come out here alone. Got it?”