Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Something had woken him from a dream. He was back at the Stronghold Table, performing the Ghost Dance.
He could see the shadow figures of other men dancing with him.
Now, he was sweating, staring up at the bedroom ceiling.
A noise from outside had Cree rolling away from the warmth of his woman.
The sound of crackling and bright orange light had him lunging from the bed and grabbing his gun from the nightstand.
Checking the mag, he slammed it back home.
“Kennedy!” Cree shouted over the roaring sound of ATVs coming from outside. She sat up as something flew through the window, shattering the glass. A glass bottle smashed against the floor, sending flaming liquid across the floor.
Using a towel laying on a chair, Cree beat the small flames into submission.
Pulling on his jeans, he told Kennedy to get some clothes on.
An orange glow could be seen from the living room as he moved down the hallway.
A second explosion had him turning for the doorway. “Kennedy, keep away from the windows.”
Loud sounds of shattering glass had her dropping to the floor as she tugged on her pajamas. Feeling under the bed, she found her slippers and pulled them on. “What is that noise?” she asked Cree from beside the bed.
Light from outside flickered through the curtains. When the next explosion hit, Cree grabbed Kennedy, taking her back to the floor.
Another window shattered, sending more glass blowing back into the room. Getting to his feet, he scooped up Kennedy and headed into the bathroom.
“Do not move, Kennedy. Do you understand me? Do not move.”
He watched as she nodded. “When I say move, you stay low.” Grabbing his backup pistol from under the sink, he shoved it into her hand. “Do not shoot me.” Keeping her at his back, he moved them into the living room.
They’d barely stepped into the living room as a ball of fire crashed through the window. Glass and flaming liquid exploded across the wooden floor, and the long drapes caught fire.
Kennedy stepped back into the shelter of the bathroom. Sirens could be heard in the distance, but they were too far off to stop the attack. Help’s coming, she told herself silently.
Cree fumbled for the fire extinguisher. He managed to put out the curtains and the floor. Smoke filled the room, making it hard to see Kennedy. If he called her name, it would give their positions away. When he found her safe in the bathroom, he held up his hand and motioned for her to stay there.
A round of bullets pinged off the far wall, causing Cree to move quickly across the room.
They were sitting ducks inside the house.
The only room that hadn’t been penetrated was the bathroom.
Moving back toward Kennedy, he closed the door to the bathroom then carefully opened the window.
The back of the house was almost butt-up to the edge of the frozen lake.
That’s what kept the attackers from hitting that window.
Looking down, he saw there was enough of an area for them to drop down and get to the garage.
He climbed out first, and once on the ground, Cree held his hands out to help Kennedy down.
When she was steady on her feet, he took her along the backside of the house.
Sticking to the shadows, they made their way to the garage.
He could hear men shouting back and forth as blue and white lights were seen coming in the distance.
The cops were still too far off—this whole fucking thing could be over in seconds.
A shot rang out, hitting the garage next to his head. Cree ducked down, and using his shoulder, he shoved the side door open and forced Kennedy to get inside. “Find somewhere to hide. I’ll be back.”
“I’m not staying in here while you go out there. You could be killed.”
Cree grabbed her chin, forcing Kennedy to look at him. Gone was the man she’d been in bed with. Now, a dangerous man stood holding her in place. “Get inside . . . now.” Before he shoved her into the garage, he kissed her fast, then he closed the door, leaving her alone in the dark.
“I’ll be back for you.” Kennedy closed her eyes, hearing those five words through the door.
Reaching out in the dark until her hand found a wall, she ran her hand along it until she bumped into what felt like a chair.
Feeling it out, she found it solid. Curling up on the chair, Kennedy used her free hand to rub her feet, trying to warm them.
Drawing her knees up under her chin, she wrapped her arms around her legs, holding tight to the gun.
Sitting there in the darkness, Kennedy’s imagination was running wild. The chair moved suddenly and something brushed her leg. Kicking out, she connected with something large. Her foot got tangled and a fight ensued between her and the unforeseen attacker.
Trying to get her foot free, she fell off the chair.
Whatever had touched her was now on top of her.
Struggling with the enormous thing, sharp edges poked at her skin.
Reaching out, she grasped at it and realized what she was feeling was a tree.
Shoving it off, Kennedy got up from the cold floor.
A sliver of moonlight now filtered in from a small window the tree had been blocking.
Looking at her hands, she found strings of tinsel twisted around her fingers.
Her eyes jumped to the tree. “Are you kidding me? A damn Christmas tree.”
The cab of the truck was ablaze in the front drive.
Cree could see two trucks driving back and forth on the road as men moved across the terrain.
He knew the cops were near by how loud the sirens had become, and as they pulled up, the men jumped into the trucks and took off, throwing snow up behind them.
Putting his gun away, Cree stepped out from the shadows, speaking loud enough for the cops to know it was him.
Two steps into view and a flash of heat struck him in his shoulder, sending him stumbling back onto the ground.
Rolling over, he took cover behind the burning truck.
Blood ran down his chest. He’d been shot.
But who had shot him? The sound of a snowmobile moving across the open field gave him his answer.
There had been too many points of attack to be one or two attackers.
He’d counted six men but knew there were probably more than that.
The side door of the garage flew open, and Kennedy ran from the building toward him.
It was like seeing an angel coming to save him as she ran through the snow.
In one hand, she held tight to the gun. With the other, she was reaching out for him.
“Cree,” she screamed as she dropped to her knees on the cold ground. “Oh my god, you’ve been shot.”
Looking at the police running toward the house, she yelled for Cree’s cousin. When he came into view, she pointed at Cree’s chest. “Maliki, Cree’s been shot.” He shouted for an ambulance. “Help’s coming. You’ll be alright.”
Cree reached up, running a hand through her long hair. With the glow of the moon cascading over her head, a halo of silver and white shimmered. Tendrils of shiny, thin threads fluttered out of it. “What’s in your hair?”
“Who cares?”
“Humour me, I might be dying.”
“A damn Christmas tree fell on me.”
“What?”
“There was a Christmas tree and it fell on me.” Kennedy knew she shouldn’t have laughed with Cree bleeding from a bullet wound, but the fact that a fucking Christmas tree had hit her in the head was funny.
All season, she had been doing her best to ignore the holiday and it literally landed on her head.
Cree chuckled as he tugged her down to kiss him.
“You could take your top off and apply pressure to my wound.”
“I could take my pants off and do the same,” she said as the EMTs walked up.
“Smartass,” he growled as Kennedy moved out of the way.
Cree kept his eyes on her while the EMTs attended to his wound.
When they went for a gurney, he wanted to tell them he could walk, but instead, he focused on Kennedy.
She had come for him, not thinking about her own safety.
“Were you worried about me, katawasisiw?”
“What does that word mean?”
“Beautiful.”
Kennedy tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “How do you say ‘thank you’?”
Cree smiled at her question. “Hay-hay.”
“Hay-hay.”
“You’re welcome.”
Kennedy stood up, looking for the EMTs. “What’s taking them so long to get a damn gurney?”
Laughing, Cree looked toward the front of the house. He wasn’t going to bleed out in the snow, but the wound was starting to take its toll. “They’ll be right—” His comment was cut off as a figure stepped from the shadows and came up behind her.
In a split second, she was grabbed and yanked off her feet. She screamed as the figure tossed her over a thick shoulder. Ignoring the pain, Cree shoved off the ground in an attempt to stop her from being carried off.
Moving along the side of the house, he stayed in pursuit as he shouted for Maliki’s help. Seeing that he was losing ground, Cree dove for the guy’s legs. On impact, they all hit the snow- and ice-covered ground with a thud.
In the tussle, Kennedy was knocked aside. Seeing her slipping down the small embankment, Cree tried reaching out for her hand only to be yanked back. Swinging wildly, he fought the attacker. The scream followed by the sound of Kennedy hitting the frigid water had him fighting harder.
Knocking his attacker off, he scrambled down the embankment to help Kennedy, who was struggling to get a firm grip on the icy edge.
Not thinking about himself, he jumped into the dark water as she disappeared from sight.
How he managed to find her, he had no idea.
Dragging her to the side, he managed to shove her onto the embankment.
With nothing left to help himself, he dug his hands into the ice, trying to hang on as Kennedy grabbed his wrists to help him.
“Let go. Let us get him out,” a familiar voice yelled over Kennedy telling him to hang on.
Cree was pulled from the icy water by Maliki and another officer.
Shivering on the snowy ground, Kennedy and Cree were helped up.
Maliki swept Kennedy up into his arms and moved quickly across the ground.
Cree allowed the other officer to help him but refused to be carried.
When the officer stared at him in confusion, Cree headed after Maliki.
With every step, his clothes and shoes became laden with ice and snow due to the whipping wind coming off the lake.
Wrapping his arms around his body, he huddled in an attempt to shield himself from the cold.
Coming around the corner of the house, he found two EMTs with a gurney.
With his energy dissipating quickly, Cree dropped onto the gurney, allowing them to take him to the ambulance.
The doors closed once he was loaded. Kennedy sat wrapped in blankets, looking exhausted. When her eyes opened slowly, Cree saw a sheen of tears and held his hand out for her to take it. They rode all the way to the hospital in silence.