Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Willow
Next to me, Murph growls and bares his teeth toward the intruders standing in the yard. The dog’s furry presence emboldens me. But it’s the man standing with his legs spread, and his arms crossed over his broad chest, that really makes me feel safe.
Cal.
I know I’ve hurt him. I hate it.
But at the moment, there’s nothing I can do about that.
Well, maybe not nothing.
I take a breath, steeling myself against the gross way Ronnie’s looking at me. Even from this distance, I can practically feel the way he’s undressing me with his eyes. And I’m about to get closer.
I reach around to pat my back pocket, reassuring myself that my phone is still there, and walk down the steps, and head straight for Ronnie.
“Willow.”
I swallow hard at the warning in Cal’s voice and hope like hell he trusts me enough to let this happen.
Honestly, I’m not entirely sure myself that it will work. But somebody needs to end this once and for all. And since I got myself into this mess, I’m damn well going to get myself out of it.
I keep walking.
Behind me, I hear Cal mutter a string of expletives under his breath.
Good. At least he hasn’t given up on me yet. The thought gives me a fresh burst of resolve.
Ronnie’s smile widens as I stop a few feet away from him. Close enough to smell the stale cigarettes and beer on him.
“Nice of you to join us.”
I ignore him and say, “You want to tell me exactly what your issue with my brother is?”
“All you need to know is he owes me a lot of money.” Ronnie sneers, but I don’t react. “And that means that you owe me a lot of money. Or something else just as valuable.”
I work hard not to react to his disgusting innuendo.
I give him my sweetest smile, instead. “I can’t imagine that rusty piece of junk you were driving around was worth much more than a six pack, Ronnie.”
He spits a heavy stream of tobacco juice into the dirt before straightening and stepping up to me. Beside me, Murph growls, and I’m pretty sure I hear a similar sound from Cal behind me, but I don’t back down.
“It’s not the truck, Willow.” Ronnie reaches out and runs one dirty finger down my cheek. I steel myself, trying not to gag on his stale breath. “It’s what was inside.”
“And what was inside?” I force my voice to stay even and sound as innocent as possible. “Must be worth quite a bit if you’re going to all this trouble to collect.”
“Don’t trouble your pretty little head with the dirty details.”
I glance down, so I’m looking at him through my eyelashes in a move I hope is flirty enough to throw him off. “Oh,” I purr, laying it on as thick as I can. “But dirty details are my favorite kind.”
Again, I’m sure I hear a string of curses from Cal, but I don’t dare turn around.
I focus on Ronnie, who, by some miracle, appears to be falling for my ruse.
So I kick it up a notch and reach out, tracing my finger up the inside of his arm.
“You know,” I say, dropping my voice conspiratorially, “I know a lot more about this kind of stuff than you might think.”
“Oh yeah?”
I shrug. “Small town. People talk and…well, you know my brother.” It’s a risk bringing Bryson into this, but I have to take the chance.
Ronnie scowls, but I continue, letting my finger drift away.
“I have to admit, Ronnie. I never figured you for a guy important enough to move something worth stealing.”
The bait lands exactly the way I hoped it would.
“Pft. Important enough?” he laughs. “Little lady, the goods in my truck are worth more than everything your family owns.”
I widen my eyes in faux surprise.
“Really?”
“Fifty grand worth,” he says proudly. “How’s that for important enough?”
“Wow.” I bat my eyelashes, laying it on thick. “You really must be important to have that kind of…what exactly?”
“The kind of product city folk will pay top dollar for.” He puffs up his chest. “Pure and uncut.”
There it is.
“Sounds risky.”
He laughs, and I take the opportunity to take a step back, putting distance between us.
“Only if you get caught,” he says. “And I don’t plan on it.” The arrogance—and stupidity—practically drips off him. “By the time anybody figures out where my shipments are going, they’re already halfway across the province.”
Shipments. Plural.
Got you.
I knew Ronnie was into some bad shit, but I had no idea it was this bad.
I almost smile.
“But I am going to need that truck back, kid.” His head swings toward my brother, and I use his moment of distraction to step all the way back in line with Cal.
Beside me, Cal’s hand reaches out to find me. He laces his fingers through mine and squeezes quickly before pulling back.
“I don’t think you should worry about the truck, Ronnie.”
Once more, his gaze focuses on me, a quick flash of surprise on his face to see that I’m no longer standing directly in front of him with a flirty smile on my face.
He opens his mouth to protest, but before he can, I reach into my back pocket and pull out my cell phone.
Quickly, I hit stop on the recording and press send on the message, sending the recording to the authorities, all before I look up to see Ronnie’s face twisted into a purple, pulsing rage as he steps toward me.
“What the fuck?”
“Don’t bother.” I hold my hand out as if it could stop his advance. “The recording’s already been sent to the authorities.”
“Joke’s on you, sweetheart,” he sneers. “There’s no cell service on the mountain.”
“Think again, Hatch.” Cal steps up, putting himself between us. Luke is right there with him.
“I installed a state-of-the-art communications system up here years ago,” Luke says. “Private network, of course.”
Ronnie’s gaze drops to the phone in my hand, and I watch the realization spread across his face.
For the first time since he arrived on the mountain, the mask of confidence slips.
Not completely, but enough for me to see the panic underneath.
I can't stop the small smile of satisfaction that crosses my face.
“You little bitch.”
He comes at me fast enough that I barely have time to react, but Cal moves faster. His hand wraps around Ronnie's wrist before he can get anywhere close to me.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Ronnie spits out a string of nasty words and tries to wrench himself free, but Cal has a seriously strong hold.
“Let go of me.”
Cal’s expression shifts into something dangerous as he narrows his gaze. “I suggest you start making better decisions,” he says, tightening his grip enough to make Ronnie’s face twist. “Because that was a particularly bad one.”
Beside us, Luke crosses his arms across his chest and watches the exchange unfold with the relaxed expression of a man who already knows how it ends.
“Can’t say I disagree,” Luke says with a shake of his head. “Personally, I think you’re getting off easy.”
Everyone standing there, especially Ronnie, knows without a doubt that Cal’s perfectly capable of snapping Ronnie’s wrist, and I’m not sure that he won’t.
Finally, Cal releases him with a shove backwards. Ronnie works to keep his feet under him as he stumbles back toward the truck. “You’re going to—”
Whatever threat he’s still stupid enough to utter is cut off with the roaring of truck engines making their way down the gravel forestry roads.
“Fuck, Ronnie,” Dale yells behind him. “Someone’s coming.”
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” someone else hollers.
There’s a flurry of activity as the men scramble for their vehicles. Ronnie hesitates, but only for a second before he spits one last time and says, “This ain’t over.”
Cal wraps an arm around me, tugging me close. “It sure as hell is.”
Cal
By the time the dust settles, literally, Hatch and his men are halfway down the mountain running like the scared little boys they truly are.
Good riddance. Although their issues are far from over. As far as I’m concerned, I’m done with them. And if I ever see any of their faces on my mountain again, it’ll be too soon.
Despite Willow sending the recording to the authorities, which was a brilliant idea, even if it was risky, it wasn’t the cops coming up the mountain the way those idiots thought.
Just as dangerous, if not more so, it was Holt and Beck. We served together more than twenty years ago, and they’ve never failed to have my back. Then and now.
We might not spend a lot of time together since moving out to the mountain, all of us battling our own demons, but we’re there for each other when it counts. And I’m glad to see their faces.
Beck is the first one to walk over, joining us in front of the porch. “Can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a couple of assholes run that fast,” he says with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t be surprised if they drive themselves right off the road the way they were driving.”
I tighten my grip on Willow, happy they’re gone. I don’t even want to think about how that could have gone. The danger she was in. The danger she put herself in.
“The message got through?” I ask Beck. He’s worked closely with local and federal law enforcement authorities on various cases over the years since leaving the military.
He always had exceptional skills and a unique talent for having no fear when it came to putting himself into situations most men would be terrified of.
“It did.” He nods. “It was a good idea to send that so quickly,” he addresses Willow, who straightens in my hold. “Risky,” he adds. “But smart.”
“It was Lilly’s idea to call you,” she says, surprising me. “She said you’d know who to send it to.”
Luke laughs as Lilly appears on the porch. He waves her over, and she runs to join us. “I guess filling you in on the details of my friends paid off, hey?” He kisses her on the top of her head and pulls her close.
“What can I say?” she shrugs. “I pay attention. But it was Willow's idea to taunt him into admitting everything.”
“It was reckless,” I growl, not wanting to think about what could have happened if I hadn’t been there and Hatch got his hands on her.
“But it worked.” Willow presses her lips together, ready to defend her irresponsible actions with her usual fiery attitude. “And I’d do it again.”
I’m about to protest, but Holt steps in.
“Relax, Cal. She’s right. It worked. And if there’s one thing I know about these women of ours, it’s that once they have their minds set on something, there’s no stopping them.
” He shakes his head with a chuckle. No doubt thinking about Tessa, his new wife, who also happens to be Luke’s daughter. “No point fighting it.”
Women of ours?
I glance down at Willow. Is she mine?
The tangle of feelings rolling me right now—protectiveness, relief, desire, frustration, and God help me, love—settles it.
I tighten my arm around her. We have a lot to talk about. A lot. But Holt’s right about one thing: there’s no point in fighting it when it comes to Willow, and I wouldn’t want to.
Even when she can be infuriating. And she really can.
“It was—” I hold my hand up to stop all the objections I know I’m about to get. “Smart,” I finish, and Willow looks up at me, a tentative smile on her face. “It was really smart,” I say directly to her. “Hopefully it’s enough to put him away for a long time.”
“It sure as hell should be,” Beck says, jumping into our conversation. “But it would be better if we had the truck. With evidence like that…” he lets out a low whistle.
“Maybe I can help with that.”
All heads turn to Bryson, who’s standing a few steps away from the rest of us like he’s not sure if he should turn and run before we all remember he’s still there.
If he were smarter, it’s exactly what he should have done.
I turn, releasing Willow only so I can grab the kid if he does bolt. “What do you mean?”
“The truck,” he stammers. “I know where it is.”
“What do you mean?" Beck steps up. "You know where the truck is?"
“I assumed you would have dumped it,” I say. “Or sold it.”
Bryson looks between Willow and me as if his sister can help him answer for him. I’m growing very weary of this kid leaning on his sister to get him out of all his problems.
When Willow doesn't offer any guidance, Bryson turns back to me and starts talking.
"I took the truck because I needed a way to get out of town," he shoots a guilty glance at his sister.
"But when I realized what was inside, I didn't want anything to do with it.
I mean... there's trouble, and then there's trouble," he says.
“So I dumped it down by the river. If I got caught with that…”
“You would have had bigger problems than Ronnie to deal with,” Willow says with a shake of her head. “At least you made one somewhat smart decision in all this.”
I failed to see how he’d made any smart decisions, but it didn’t seem like the time to bring it up.
“And you can take me to the truck?” Beck asks.
Bryson nods.
“Let’s go,” he jerks his head toward the truck.
“Right now?”
“You got something else to do?”
Bryson glances at his sister. Willow doesn’t say a word. She crosses her arms and shakes her head tightly.
“Guess not.”
There’ll be time for her to deal with her brother, but I agree, now is not the time.
“We’ll take him down the mountain,” Holt says to me. “He’s going to have a lot of explaining to do,” he addresses the last comment to Willow, who only shrugs.
“I can’t protect him from everything,” she says. “Not anymore. If he broke the law, he needs to face it.”
I know it hurts her to say it, but I’m so proud of her for coming to the realization that she doesn’t need to carry the weight of his choices.
“Thanks, guys.” I look at each of my buddies. “I appreciate—”
“You don’t need to say it,” Holt stops me.
“It’s what we do,” Luke adds.
I nod. It is what we do.
Willow and I don’t speak as we stand side by side watching my friends get in their trucks and drive away. The silence settles around us.
For once, the mountain is truly quiet. Even Murph has retreated to the porch steps.
It’s not until we’re alone in the yard that she finally turns to me.
The truth is, I already know what she's going to say. I also know we can't leave it hanging between us. Not anymore.
Not if this is going to go any further.
And lord help me, even after everything, I do. More than anything.
"We need to talk."
We both speak the words at the exact same time, and I almost smile.
Almost.
But then I look at her and remember exactly why this conversation is going to be a lot harder than either of us wants it to be. “Let’s go inside.”