“Guessing those ain’t your men?” Destiny asked as I leveled up my Henry and stared through the scope. I scanned the situation. Two men on ATV’s, three on horseback. Two pushed the cattle and one worked the gate.
“Just the one. White cowboy hat blue shirt, standing off to the side talking to the blonde.”
“How do you want to play this?”
“They’re armed,” I warned.
“So am I,” Destiny said unzipping her cut and showing her side arms.
“Those five with rides, they will be the ones who likely have guns. The drivers might but they will be focused on getting the hell out of here. Semis are slower and more expensive. They will care more about not losing their rigs than the cattle.”
“If those cattle stampede they could trample those in the gates. Be a few less problems for us,” Destiny mused. “Brad and the woman?”
I shook my head and lowered my gun. “Leave Brad to me. Go in on bikes or on foot?”
“Bikes will give us away,” Destiny pulled out a Glock from her cut. “How are you with that Henry?”
“Probably not as good as you, but I know what I’m doing,” I checked the rifle was loaded to full capacity and made sure I had easy access to plenty more bullets from my pockets.
“Back up is five minutes out tops. Maybe less.”
“They already got one trailer loaded and pulling out, I don’t have five minutes.”
“Let’s see what cowgirls are made of,” Destiny said and took off running down the ridge, me behind her struggling to keep up.
We made it about ten yards out from the cattle gates perimeter towards the trucks without being detected. The closer they could get the better, Destiny was rocking handguns and their range was nothing compared to the .30-.30.
We took cover behind a small tree that wasn’t much more than a tumble weed. I lined up a shot with a back tire of one of the semi’s in my scope.
“Now!” Destiny whispered, and I blew the tire then a second for good measure before the rustlers closed in.
Cattle bawled and shoved against their gates and the walls in the trailer as cowboys tried to keep them moving forward. A lone man peeked around the semi and saw the blown tires. That truck wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
The rustlers organized quickly and started backing up the remaining truck to the opposite end of the pen. They were trying to make it or break it. Three men with rifles attempted to return fire. Destiny was flinging bullets their way, but it wasn’t much use. They were sitting on the border of her range.
“Got to move Lorbosh!”
“I’ve got you covered!” I shouted as a man in a black work shirt and a long gun attempted to close in our way and I sent him a bullet to the knee.
Destiny broke right, slipping along the brush line the best she could. I watched her leap from the ground and tackle a rustler from the horse he was riding and knock him out with a punch. She then lunged for the reins of the startled horse, gripped tight and swung on his back.
“Show off,” I muttered and hunkered down as bullets zinged past my ear. “Fuck this.”
I held onto the rifle and rolled to the left, grabbing my gun to my chest. When I was on my stomach, I aimed up at another man with a gun. I shot twice, and he hit the ground. I had hoped for a shoulder shot but there were no guarantees.
Destiny was shooting at the remaining guys who were armed, and she kicked at one of the rustlers as she rode past, sending him tumbling to the ground. I made it to the back of the cattle gates. Slinging my Henry over my shoulder I pulled open the gate.
“Run girls, run!” I ordered them as the cattle turned and twisted in the confusion and poured from the gates. They ran and kicked and charged deep into the pasture of their home.
I glanced around hastily, trying to take assessment of the ever-changing situation. There were still more than a half dozen rustlers out there standing and fighting. I heard the sound of bikes in the distant.
Houston was coming. No, not Houston. Tate. Tate and Fabio and the rest of them. I caught a flash of an ATV out of the corner of my eye and turned, pulling up to shoot out yet another tire.
I never got the chance, I took a hit in the back of the knees. Falling forward in the dirt I tasted the warm metallic of blood spill into my mouth as I felt my Henry being kicked away.
“Never did know how to mind your own damn business did you?” Twenty-three years I spent thinking Brad’s voice was eerily cold and empty. Nothing amounted to the frozen tundra he spoke with now.
“Last time I checked, stealing from Homeland, stealing from Grandpa, that was my business. And I take it very personal,” I spat the blood from my mouth and struggled to find my feet.
The bikes were here, and their engines were cutting. I heard the ping of the bullets hitting metal. The shouts of men. Someone screamed as a distinct thud of a body being slammed into metal was heard. I smiled as I could picture my brother slamming the head of some rustler into a truck.
Brad wrapped his fist in the back of my shirt and dug a pistol barrel into the base of my neck. “Walk, to the silver Dodge, now.”
I put my feet into gear and swallowed down my fear. Not that I was scared, the anger and the adrenaline was an overriding trait apparently.
Brad opened the back door of the quad-cab. He wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let me in the back unbound, was he? Just as I started to climb into the cab, I was struck at the base of my skull.
Chapter Thirty
Houston
My phone was buzzing by the time I was less than a third of the way to Amarillo. The three hours on the road had done little for my mood. Every mile that passed should have made me feel freer, but it didn’t. It took everything I had not to turn around and go back to Homeland, back to Amelia.
Like a child I had made a scene riding off like I had. Besides, this was Amelia; six hours to cool off wouldn’t be enough. She’d still be fighting mad tonight. I should never have left Amarillo in the first place. If I knew what trouble she would be that night in Tommy’s I’d have kicked Dart’s ass, tossed her in her truck and told her to leave and never come back.
I shook my head, that was a lie. If I knew what trouble she would be, I would still have followed her here. I wouldn’t have changed a thing, not stopped one of the times my lips fell on hers. Not stopped myself from taking her until she was screaming my name.
I ignored the first two calls, figuring Destiny or Fabio were calling to chew me out. But by call number three I got worried and pulled over to the side of the highway and flipped open the phone.
“What Destiny?”
“It’s bad Houston, you need back here now. It’s so bad. I’m sorry Houston.” My sister was the definition of calm, usually, under any circumstances. She was the level headed solider, the solid President, and she never apologized to anyone for anything. But there was a level of unbridled terror I had only heard once before; the night Fabio was shot.
“Amelia,” I whispered feeling the bile rise in my throat, I gasped, realizing I struggled to breathe. No, she couldn’t be, I just left Homeland, just left her.
“I did rounds with her, we came up on Brad and a crew loading up half the herd, she wouldn’t wait Houston and I didn’t encourage her to, I called it in and the two of us went in hot and heavy. I saw her throw open the gate and start the stampede as the boys rode in, but then, when I got a chance to look back she was gone. Brad took her. Houston I’m so sorry. I saw his truck, I tried to get there, and I couldn’t. God! Houston we should have waited for backup!”
“Yes! You should have! What the hell were you two thinking? How long ago was this!”
“Fifteen minutes ago. Sticky tried chasing them down, but he wiped out on that bike in the loose gravel. Badges had to come in and with Sticky’s rap sheet he had to disappear.”
“I’m on my way back. Find her Destiny!”
I stuffed my phone in my pocket and flipped the bike back towards Laredo, back towards Homeland. It would take near
ly three hours to get back. Three hours. God, what could happen to Amelia? Brad was unhinged, she was strong, but could she be strong enough to hold on? To hold on for me to get to her?
I understood what Destiny felt a year ago. That need to kill. Destiny had shoved her knife into Drew’s heart and never looked back. I would rip Brad limb for limb. Leave nothing of the worthless piece of human being who dared to call himself Amelia’s blood.
My hands struggled to keep from shaking and keep my grip on the handlebars and throttle. I should have never left Homeland. I should have dealt with her being pissed off like a man. Fabio, Tate and Destiny and the boys should have been able to handle things. Handle things they could do, but they couldn’t handle Amelia. Hell, I could barely handle Amelia.
That girl’s stubbornness, I should have stayed and made sure she didn’t do something stupid. Thinking she and Destiny could take on a dozen rustlers. Destiny was good, and I was sure Amelia could hold her own, but one to six odds aren’t friendly for anyone.
The miles buzzed by and I tried to focus. Tried to form a plan in my head. The cops had to get involved, fucking badges. That would make this a helluva lot harder to do. Destiny was smart, and she adored Amelia. Homeland would be buzzing with patches before I got there. Brothers would ride up and down every mile of road until she was found.
Usually, such a show of force was done only for the sake of patch brothers and occasionally close family. But this last weekend I had taken Amelia in front of my family, in front of my club as my old lady. To the club we were as good as married, and the club would ride for me. If they didn’t want to they would still ride for Destiny’s order. The order of their royalty, the President of Sweetwater, and the President of the Nomads.
Alec would ride in. He would be at least four hours longer than I. Hopefully, hopefully by then this would be over. But even on his way in, Alec and Eric, the Aunts, they would be organizing. It wasn’t their first rodeo, their first kidnapping either.
They four older one’s had seen the wars through the eyes of adult soldiers, they knew how to do this sort of thing. The experience, the power. All the years of me resenting Alec and his words of wisdom, Kristy’s take charge bossy attitude, it was the smallest of comfort. This wasn’t Bastard business, this was family business and they would pull up all the stops, because my family had seen through the bullshit I fed them when I said Amelia wasn’t anyone special.
They would find Amelia. She would be safe. She had to be safe. The last words she would hear from me, the last words I would hear from her wouldn’t be that of an argument. I should have told her the truth, should have told her in Sweetwater, should have told her in the barn. Should have just fucking stayed and told her and just dealt with the repercussions and the bullshit of figuring it out instead of riding away like a damned pussy.
Dear, God, let her be okay. She’s so good and so pure. The only bad thing she has ever done is fall for me.
I forced myself to release the tension on my muscles and relax. If I didn’t loosen up I wouldn’t have any energy left to fight when I got to Homeland.
“I’m coming for you Sweetheart. Hold on, I’m coming. I promise.”
***
Bikes and cop cars littered the ranch yard when I flew in.
“Houston!” Susanne ran off the porch steps towards me. “Amelia!” she sobbed into my chest and I wrapped my arms around her.
“I know. I know. I will get her back. I swear it Susanne, I will get her back,” I kissed the top of her head and looked up at the house. George and Eloise stood on the porch looking like hell. Their grandson had just kidnapped their granddaughter at gunpoint.
Fabio and Tate walked out of the house, Fabio motioned me to follow and Tate walked to meet the rest of the patches. “What are we doing Fabio? Has he called, made ransom demands?”
“Nothing. He ditched his cell and he’s not in his truck, so we can’t track it. The truck he left in does have onboard GPS.”
“That means we can track it right?”
“Not without a warrant and our friends here are stickler for the rules.”
“Fuck!” I wasn’t worried that the truck wasn’t being tracked but communicating would be difficult. There were eyes and ears everywhere.
“You all made it whole?”
“Tate has a flesh wound but he’s not concerned. Destiny and Amelia wrecked some havoc. Your girl didn’t go down without a fight, she blew out a kneecap and there’s another in ICU, they took him out via chopper. She’s good with that Henry.”
“I’d feel better if she had it right now.”
“She’s tough Houston.”
“I know.”
Fabio and I walked into the dining room. Scottie was already there and the President and Vice President of the closest Hellion chapter.
“Hit every single cowboy bar and work your way out from Homeland. Eyes are on us but make it very uncomfortable for them. Encourage talking. Anyone with leads concerning Brad or his whereabouts maybe allowed to strike a deal with the Bastards, a lighter sentence to speak of if they were involved in this. Money is not an issue, I’ll personally back anything you have to do,” Destiny ordered, and the three men dispersed to carry out her wishes.
“I’m so,” Destiny started when she saw me.
“Don’t even say it,” I held up my hand, “Let’s just get her back.”
“The Rangers are here,” Tate said coming in behind me.
“Just fuckin’ wonderful,” I muttered.
“That’s the response I had too.”
I turned to see the tall and lean cowboy in jeans and a tan button up work shirt. He was wearing a Stetson and living behind the star on his chest.
“Travis Connelly.”
“Ranger Connelly.”
“How did you get assigned this?” I asked. Our relationship with Connelly was a little better than our relationship with the deputy in Sweetwater, Trent Ulrey. Mainly because I hadn’t threatened to kill Connelly on more than one occasion. It was either a fantastic or a terrible thing Connelly was present.
“Ask your sister,” Connelly nodded. “Hello Dallas.”
“Travis,” she smirked and shrugged at me. “Like I wasn’t pulling out all the stops.”
“Jerrica isn’t even a Ranger anymore yet somehow she’s dictating my life and career as much now as when she was my partner. She’s tangled up in a case and recovery in Illinois or she’d be on the first flight down herself. She sends her love and regrets for missing the wedding. I assume my invite was lost in the mail?”
“Only former badges invited.”
“Look, on the record this goes by the book. We will get her back,” Travis started.
“Off the record?” I asked and crossed my arms staring down Travis.
“I ain’t stupid. You just rolled in to the midst of a dozen cops with at least three guns under that vest and I’d bet ain’t a one of them legal. Rumor has it this is your wife,” Travis paused.
“Something like that.”
“I’m not naïve Houston, I don’t think for one minute you will sit by the sidelines and let me run this. But let’s get this thing straight, you will not make a mess, there will not be a pileup of bodies. There will be no brawls; you keep your cuts, and yourselves in line and we won’t have a problem. The first sign of a hair out of line, and I will have each and every one of your asses in lock up. Henry played by the rules of his day and his father played by the rules of his. Jerrica’s toed the line her entire career, yet somehow, somehow, she keeps turning an eye to the shit this patch does. Jerrica’s like a sister to me, but I’m not a part of the rest of this twisted fucked up family, so I won’t.”
“Do your thing Travis, but you better not get in my way. I will find Amelia and bring her home safe. I really don’t give a damn the consequences,” I told him and walked towards the door.
“Light reading material for later,” Destiny dropped a nine-inch stack of papers in front of Connelly. “Evidence against Brad, courtesy of A
melia, our friend Dez, and the Bastards.”
I lit a cigarette on the front porch. Most the bikes had rolled out.
“The wolves?” I asked Destiny.
“Three hours out or less. Coming like a bat out of hell. Brining more than half my pack with them. Leaving the bare minimum behind,” Destiny answered. Our aunts and uncles were coming with Sweetwater.
“How’s things in Fort Worth?”
“It’s Fort Worth. Not their first rodeo. Rocky called, they’re checking in with a brand inspector who likes things he shouldn’t. He’ll be in touch.”
Destiny had ridden with Fort Worth when she prospected and joined the club. Rocky was an elder member who had some pull, and he kept his boot on everyone’s balls. If you were doing something shady in Fort Worth, Rocky knew about it. With black mail being an art of his, if any brand inspector in the state knew what was going down, Rocky would find out.
“I should have called these favors in weeks ago.”
“Favors like this aren’t easily cashed. You don’t easily make friends but enemies when you ride like that. You can’t play that hand unless forced. We might be bikers but a lot of us have roots in the industry, we know the pressure points. We’ll find her Houston.”
I couldn’t bring myself to talk to Amelia’s family, even Tate. I had to think, had to clear my mind. I needed a lead, a hint, something. I walked towards the foreman house. Cops everywhere. Crawling through Brad’s things, hoping to find what he was looking for.
“You can’t come in here sir,” said a local badge who was roping it off with yellow crime scene tape.
“It’s okay, let him in,” Travis said waving at me. Travis stood just inside the door, hands on his hips. “Don’t let me regret this.”
“Find anything?”
“Not yet. I’m assuming nothing leading to Amelia was in those papers Destiny Dallas turned over.”
Houston Callaghan: The Devil's Bastards MC Page 21
