Chapter Twenty-Eight
But much too late, to now undeal,
A hand already played,
The cy’ote knew this whole ordeal,
Came from his heartless ways.
Lyrics from the folk song “Crossroads Coyote”
“Luke is adapting to being here a lot better than I thought he would.” Clem murmured to Bill, as they lay in bed that night. “He fell right to sleep.”
“Right to sleep” was a relative measure, given the amount of energy Clem put into getting him settled, but Bill supposed Luke did take to her fussing pretty well.
They’d packed up the kid’s few belongings from his old apartment and arranged them in the spare room. Luke only seemed to care about his pages of sheet music. He’d looked quietly amused by all Clem’s pretty, girly stuff surrounding him, as she’d literally tucked him into bed.
“The coyote’s always been inside the boy, but now it’s fully awake.” Bill explained softly. “It trusts you. Luke’s human mind has got no chance against animal instincts, so he trusts you, too.”
“The coyote isn’t forcing Luke to move faster with us than he’s comfortable with, is it?”
“The coyote is Luke. The two of them are one being. The kid’s smart, so he’s paying attention to what his coyote-self says. And it says he’s safe with you forever.”
Clem stacked her hands on his bare chest, resting her chin on top of them. “What does your coyote-self say about me?”
“That you’re my future. My partner. My mate, even though my kind doesn’t have them.” Bill played with the ends of her hair. “I’m smart, so I listen to it, too.”
Clementine stared at him, her eyes huge. “Bill?”
“Hmmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course you can, darlin’.” And he would do his very best to pay attention, even though having her so warm and close was a powerful distraction.
Because he was a considerate husband, he hadn’t even suggested sex. She’d been a virgin just twenty-four hours ago. Her body was probably still sore from their wedding night. Not to mention the rest of her was bruised from Johnny’s attack. She needed comfort and care.
Also, Bill knew his wife would balk at doing fun activities that the kid might overhear.
It was hard to focus on anything but her soft body pressed against him, though. Real, real hard. Clementine was lying half on top of Bill. She smelled like blueberry flapjacks and she was wearing one of his t-shirts. It pulled against the swell of her breasts, in all kinds of interesting ways. His palms itched to explore under the taut fabric.
They were getting a bigger apartment, just as soon as they could afford it. Someplace where Luke’s room would be a good distance from theirs and Clem would be okay with making some noise.
In a way, it was a shame they had to move. Their current complex would soon be improving. There was that potluck thing that Clem was organizing. Whatever it was. And she was talking about finding somebody to clean up the swimming pool. The woman would look real fine in a bathing suit. And what with his upcoming tax audit, Woody would be too busy to be his usual annoying self. Red River Valley’s local government sure did appreciate knowing that the manager of the Westward Arms Apartments was keeping two sets of books.
And Bill really hadn’t appreciated the way the landlord leered at Clem.
Clementine took a deep breath, like she needed to brace herself to ask her question. “Why did you marry me?”
His hand stilled on her golden hair.
She kept on staring at him. “I thought it was at least partially to help your career.”
He shook his head in frustration. “ You said that. Not me.”
“Because I thought it was what you wanted.”
“Why the hell would I want to marry you for my career? You’re already my muse and my manager. You’d help me, whether we were married or not.”
“So then what was your reason for marrying me?” Clementine pressed.
Because he’d wither into nothing without the spotlight of her attention.
Because he’d loved her from the moment they’d met.
Because he needed her.
Vulnerability clawed his insides, even though he didn’t want to acknowledge the emotion. Everything in Bill’s head told him to keep his barriers in place. It was a matter of survival. He had to protect himself. …But his coyote knew he was safe with Clem forever.
Clementine kept watching Bill, her gaze steady.
He opened his mouth…
“Clem!” Luke burst into the bedroom, the door slamming into the wall. “Bill, come quick! The building’s on fire!”
“Fucking Johnny.” Bill leapt out of bed, dragging Clementine to her feet. Breathing deep, he could now smell smoke over the distracting, intoxicating scent of his mate. “Didn’t I suggest we get a hotel room tonight, darlin’?”
“Because you thought I’d be traumatized returning to the apartment. Only I’m not traumatized and we don’t have the money for a hotel room.” Clem fumbled for her glasses. “Do you really think that it’s Johnny?”
“It’s Johnny.” There wasn’t a doubt in Bill’s mind that the derivative hack had committed arson for the second time in one night.
Bill should’ve gone hunting for that prick like he wanted to, instead of listening to Hank about letting the law handle things. If the law had the slightest clue how to deal with dangerous men, Bill would be in jail himself.
“Get your boots.” He didn’t wait for Clementine to comply. He gathered them up for her, along with a blanket to wrap around her body and their framed wedding picture right off the wall. “We gotta go.”
“This building had better not burn down. We have three months of prepaid rent.” Clem automatically took all the stuff Bill handed her. “Luke, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m just pissed off.”
The kid had his binder filled with sheet music clutched to his chest. It reminded Bill to get Clem’s father’s notebook from the dresser. He detoured over to grab it and tossed it to Clementine, too. His wife, that book, and the photo of their wedding day comprised all of Bill’s valuables.
Time to leave.
He hustled Clem from the bedroom and into the hallway, which was already filling with smoke. “Let’s go, Luke.” He supposed the kid counted as a valuable, too.
Luke trailed along behind. “This is fucked up, Bill. Why didn’t you kill this Johnny guy months ago? For real.”
“I’m askin’ myself that very thing.”
“I just hope everyone else gets out safely.” Clem fretted, securing their belongings in her blanket. “Our neighbors are all so nice. I met some wicked witches in the laundry room, and they invited me bowling this weekend.”
“You’re not going bowling with wicked witches.” Luke scoffed. “Hell no.” He looked more upset about Clem’s proposed outing than he did about the fire. He turned to Bill for backup. “It’s too dangerous for her to hang out with wicked witches.”
It took some time for a suspicious coyote and an extroverted muse to adjust their differing natures, so they could live in harmony. …It took even longer for the coyote to understand that he would be the one adjusting.
“We’ll all three go bowling with the witches.” Bill decided. The secret to a successful relationship was to support your wife in whatever she wanted to do and then quietly, indirectly ensure that she was safe while she did it. “Just as soon as we escape the burning building.”
Bill grabbed his guitar from where it was leaning against the couch. They went through the living room and out the front door.
The night was full of shouting and people running, as the other tenants fled. The Westward Arms was an old adobe structure. Adobe didn’t burn, which gave everyone a fighting chance to escape. All the architectural flourishes that had been added over the years would burn, though.
Quickly.
The steps down from the exterior balcony were already engulfed in flames.
“Oh God.” Clem whispered, seeing that their way down was blocked. The fire was eating away at the wooden walkway in front of their second-floor apartments. They seemed to be the only ones trapped. Johnny must have specifically targeted their section of the building.
Bastard.
“I sometimes use the laundry chute to slip around Woody.” Luke volunteered, taking stock of the situation. “We can get to it, but we’d need to make our way to the other wing.”
There wasn’t a clear path to the other wing or time to find one. The balcony was already groaning under the fire’s wrath.
Bill turned towards Luke. “Can you catch her, just as you are?”
The kid’s coyote wouldn’t be able to come out again for at least a few days. Shifts took a lot out of freshly-emerged creatures, even ones as huge and bloodthirsty as Luke’s. It was a monster trapped in a teenage body.
“I can catch her.” Luke sounded certain and surprisingly calm, considering half of him was a frustrated, ferocious coyote. He handed Clem his folder of sheet music and headed for the iron railing, following the plan without Bill having to explain it.
Yep, the kid was real valuable.
Bill slung the guitar strap around him, so the instrument lay at his back. “Luke’s gonna get to the ground.” He tied their blanket full of valuables around her, so her hands were free. “Then, I’ll drop you right to him, okay?”
“You want us to jump, you mean?” Clem shook her head so hard that it sent her curls swinging. “No, not okay! It’s a two-story plummet onto concrete…” She broke off with a panicked yelp as Luke vaulted over the railing.
The kid gracefully fell to the ground, landing in a crouch.
“Don’t do things like that!” She admonished.
Luke straightened up, already reaching for her. “You’re being bossy, again.”
“Assertive.” She corrected in a panicky tone. “And I’m assertively suggesting we call the fire department, before one of us breaks their necks.”
Bill swept her up in his arms. “It’s gonna be fine. He’ll catch you.”
Luke had better catch her. What if he didn’t catch her?
Bill met Luke’s eyes through the smoke. He suddenly wasn’t sure his hands would be able to release his wife into thin air. His newly-found heart hammered at the very idea. The kid was so skinny. So young. What if…?
“I won’t drop your mate.” Luke interjected, seeing his anxiety. “We have a deal. We’ll both defend her. Trust me.”
Coyotes were stronger than they looked, even in human-form. Luke treasured Clementine. The boy wouldn’t let her hit the pavement. Bill forced himself to believe all that, because there wasn’t another option. The fire was getting bigger, filling the air with heat.
“I hate this idea so, so much.” Clem moaned. “Just do it quick, so we can get out of here.”
“It’ll be okay.” Bill kissed her forehead. “I’m right behind you.”
Firming his jaw, he tossed his wife over the railing. If Luke somehow screwed this up and Clem got hurt, Bill would die right along with her. The woman glued all his broken pieces together.
For the longest second of Bill’s life, Clementine went freefalling towards the unforgiving ground. Then, she was caught in Luke’s arms and securely held against his chest. The boy snatched her from the air, not letting go. Clem’s hands grabbed hold of his neck, safe and sound.
Relief flooded Bill. “Good work! Now, I’m…”
Beneath his feet, the balcony gave an ominous shift to the left. He barely kept his balance, as everything tipped sideways.
Luke and Clem shouted in alarm.
“Fuck!”Luke bellowed.
“Noooo!”She screamed.
“ Shit .” Bill leapt off the walkway, just as the supports gave.
He threw himself forward, so he wouldn’t get crushed in the avalanche of flames and wood. The power of his coyote’s jump propelled him most of the way towards the half-filled pool in the courtyard. He was partially-transformed when he landed, his animal-body absorbing the brunt of the impact. But he wasn’t dead.
He lay on the cement for a beat, breathing hard.
“Bill!” Clem struggled to get free of Luke.
Luke wasn’t letting her go. He scrambled away from the fire, still holding Clem tight against his body. Guarding her, just like he’d promised. Whatever reservations Bill had about trusting his little brother, vanished just that fast.
“I’m alright!” Bill called to his frantic wife. Getting to his feet, he took stock and realized that miraculously, nothing was broken. Not even his guitar.
Sometimes it was damn lucky to be a coyote. He’d escaped with barely a scratch, and all his valuables were safe. Bill counted that as a win. Now, he just had to get them away from the inferno. Inside the apartments, furniture and fixtures were burning. It would only get worse…
“I knew the fire wouldn’t be enough to close this show.” Johnny announced suddenly. “I knew that I’d get my big finale.”
Bill’s attention swiveled towards the swampy pool. The Yellow Roses’ battered lead singer was sitting on one of the ratty deck chairs. There was a bottle of some God-awful hipster beer in his hand.
Bill’s head canted to one side. “Howdy, John.” He said mildly.
“You absolute asshole!” Clementine shouted at her former friend. “Look what you’ve done! You’ve destroyed people’s homes!”
“It was an ugly building anyway.” Johnny shrugged like he was relaxing by a campfire. His voice sounded raspy. Luke’s attack must’ve really done a number on it. Bill could grow to love that boy.
Clem had never been so furious in all the time Bill had known her. “You’ve lost what’s left of your mind, Johnny! I hope you go to prison forever! I never want to see you again!”
Bill had already promised her that she wouldn’t ever see Johnny again. He prided himself on honesty, so he didn’t appreciate that the absolute asshole had made him lie to his mate.
“You hurt my wife.” His coyote let out a ravenous snarl, belying his human-side’s even tone. “You know I’m gonna kill you for that.”
“All great artists die young.” Johnny assured him, sounding much too confident. “Their lives are all the more memorable, because of the loss of potential. So much music left unplayed. It adds to their legacy.”
“No one’s gonna remember you, John.” Bill started forward, intent on slaughtering the dickhead once and for all.
“Oh, I wouldn’t.” Johnny surged to his feet, his eyes crazed with zealotry and illicit magic. From a holster at his waist, he pulled out a revolver. “You think I’m not prepared for this? You think I’ll let you be on the TV show I’m supposed to be on? You think I’ll let you become more famous than me?”
“You think a gun’s going to stop a coyote?” Bill countered.
“It’ll slow you down. That’s all I need. See, I took a trip up to the railroad and borrowed some of the shit they used to clear rocks.” Johnny opened up his fashionable fringed coat. “Tomorrow, I’ll be the one with all the killer headlines.”
There were red sticks of dynamite strapped to his chest. Enough to wipe out everyone in the apartment complex. And the long fuses were already burning.
Bill’s stomach sank. Aw hell… He knew enough about explosives to understand that they only had moments before detonation.
Johnny smirked at Bill’s dark expression. “We all go out in a blaze of glory, and it’ll be wall-to-wall news coverage for days. No one in Red River Valley will ever forget me. I’ll be immortal. A star. …And you’ll just be one of my nameless victims.”
Bill’s eyes cut towards Clem, gauging her distance from the blast.
Too close.
“Run.” He ordered Luke.
The kid took off, carting Clem with him. He’d do his best to protect her, but it wouldn’t be enough. The explosion would be too big for Luke to outdistance, even with coyote strength. Especially since Clem was fighting him again, screaming for Bill.
He blocked out her desperate pleas, because otherwise he would break. He couldn’t stand making her unhappy. All he wanted was to have her with him and smiling. And safe. More than anything, he wanted her safe.
Johnny automatically took a step after Luke, eager to get close to Clementine so his explosives would kill them all.
Bill shifted directly into his path, not caring that the gun jerked in warning. “You know, it’s times like this I have to wonder if we were ever really friends a’tall.” He lamented in a tone guaranteed to redirect Johnny’s attention back towards him.
Sure enough, Johnny’s eyes widened in furious astonishment. “No, you idiot! We were never fucking friends! Not ever! Not for one minute, of one hour, of one day!”
“But I was your Secret Santa at the band’s Christmas party. I gave you that designer coonskin cap you wanted.”
“It had fleas! I had to shave my head!”
“Is that why you did that?” Bill made his voice sound surprised, but a taunting smirk played around the corners of his mouth. “Why, I thought baldness was another of your ‘sophisticated’ choices.” He took a step forward.
Johnny automatically edged back. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me, Bill. Not now.” He was somewhere between raging and triumphant. He didn’t even care that Bill was partially-transformed, because he thought he’d already won. “Even if I die first, you can’t defuse the bomb in time.”
“It’s gonna go off, no doubt about that.” Bill allowed, maneuvering closer to Johnny.
“You’ve got that right! That’s what makes humans better than other species. Our superior brains. Our creative genius.” He pointed to his temple. “Look at how our fight is ending: You’re just an animal, who I’ve got hopelessly outgunned.” He laughed. “I bet you wish you were a real cowboy and not some wannabe, who doesn’t even carry a six-shooter.”
“I don’t need a revolver to end a fight, John.” Bill’s hand moved to snap the guitar strap that was still wrapped around his torso. “And I’ve lost all my cowboy-ing jobs. I’ve decided to be a music star, now.”
He swung the guitar at Johnny’s arm knocking the revolver aside. The instrument shattered, wood splintering everywhere. Johnny pulled the gun’s trigger, but the bullet went into the cement of the patio.
Bill was already moving to grab Johnny’s throat with his other hand. “Also, I’m a coyote and you fucking touched my mate .” He flung the other man backwards, right into the unmaintained pool.
Johnny clung to Bill’s arm, dragging him along. They both hit the slimy water, sinking to the bottom. It was deeper than it looked and murky black.
Alas, Bill was no swimmer. It took him a second to get his bearings and figure out which way was up. He still did better than Johnny, who was weighed down by impractical shoes, an ugly suede coat, and a couple pounds of dynamite. The guy was flailing, trying to lighten his bulk.
He grasped at Bill. Bill shoved him away and searched for the side of the pool.
He knew he had to get out. Even wet, the dynamite fuse would burn. He’d seen what explosives did to rocks, out in the open. The shockwave underwater would do far worse damage to a person’s body. He hit the algae-covered tiled wall and followed it up.
“Bill!” Clem was right by the edge, when his head cleared the surface. Because of the diminished water level, he was too low to easily pull himself out. She seized hold of his arm, like she might be able to lift him.
Goddamn, but he loved that woman.
Bill gripped the cement lip of the pool and heaved himself upward. “You’re supposed to be keeping her safe.” He wheezed at Luke, pulling himself onto the pavement.
“She’s slippery.” The kid helped Bill to his feet. “She got away and came right back to you.”
“I will always come right back to Bill.” Clem gave them both irritated swats on their arms. “You idiots! Do not ever do that again! I make my own choices, and I will not be overprotected.” She gestured to the pieces of wood scattered around the patio. “And why is your guitar broken all to…?”
“Darlin’, we gotta go.” Bill interjected. The dynamite would still go off, even underwater. The blast radius would be smaller, but he was taking no chances. He herded her towards the street as fast as he could. “Luke!”
“I’m here.” The kid jogged by his side, carrying their blanket filled with valuables. “Hey, where we sleeping tonight?”
“Hank’ll put us up.” Bill decided. “He’s practically your uncle now.”
Boom!
The explosion shook the night and sent water shooting twenty feet into the air.
Clem looked back over her shoulder, towards the pool. He saw her register that Johnny was still under the surface. Saw her realize that he wasn’t ever going to leave that boggy pit.
Bill hugged her tight. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sorry Johnny was dead, but he was sorry she was hurt.
She let out a shaky breath and kept walking. “I have no idea who that maniac even was. He was a stranger.” She shook her head. “All that matters is you’re okay, Bill. It was very brave of you to face him down, but it was far too risky.”
He kissed the top of her hair.
Clementine pressed closer to him. “You can’t take a chance on hurting your practically-magical hands. No more fights. I mean it. You only get ten fingers.”
“I will not mess up my practically-magical guitar-playing hands. I promise.”
“I meant, they feel magical, whenever you touch me.” Clem shrugged. “But your guitar playing is nice, too.”