by Nya Rawlyns
“I’m actually glad Petilune wasn’t there. Jesus, those assholes are toxic.” Marcus scrubbed at his face as if desperate to rid himself of contamination.
Josh asked, “You ever consider going to child services and getting Petilune out of there?”
“Yeah, I did initially. Especially when...”
“What?”
“Never mind. It’s not important.”
Josh was pretty sure whatever it was, not important didn’t cut it. They had trust growing between them, but for some reason, the way Marcus cut him off clued him in that there was more to the story, and it wasn’t a happy ever after fairy tale.
In any case, child services didn’t place kids in their area. Fostering was concentrated in larger towns and cities where the kids could be monitored, after a fashion. On the other side of the coin were the sometimes dubious reasons for folks to take in those lost kids. The idea of it being a business transaction rather than a service dedicated to the welfare of the child made him uncomfortable. He suspected Marcus felt the same.
It’d be a hell of a lot easier to monitor Petilune’s situation if she was with her family. Except, they hadn’t done a bang up job on that monitoring shit.
The thought crossed his mind that Marcus might make the perfect foster parent. The man was kindness personified. He treated the girl with patience and tenderness, like she was a priceless gift. He might not realize it, but if any man should have been a father, Marcus Colton was that man.
That he’d spent nearly twenty years sharing a bachelor pad with his distant cousin and business partner, Tom Henderson, had had some tongues wagging back in the day. He’d been in high school then, so when they first set up housekeeping together, it hadn’t made much impression on him. He’d been more concerned about his own confused feelings to worry about two old guys in town becoming roomies.
Old guys. Wonder what Marcus would think if he heard me say that out loud.
Marcus noticed Polly’s place still had the lights on in the back section where she kept a small office for doing her books. Josh anticipated the request and pulled in. Since Marcus knew the woman better than he did, he let him knock on the door. Polly cracked it open. When she saw who it was, she grinned and waved them both inside.
“You fellas are up kinda late, aintcha? Can I get you anything? Coffee. A beer?”
Marcus answered, “No ma’am. But we do have a question. And I’m hoping you can keep this to yourself for a time.” The woman looked concerned but nodded for Marcus to continue. “Petilune’s gone missing. We checked her house and she’s not there.”
Polly snorted. “Bout time that child left that pit of vipers.” She got a cagy expression on her face. “I saw you hustling the gal away from the fracas in the parking lot. Care to tell me what that was about?”
Since Marcus looked like he was about to swallow his tongue, Josh said, “Not much to tell. The girl was upset by the fighting and Marcus here thought she’d be better off someplace where she could calm down.” He wasn’t keen on saying more than that and regretted having stopped by to ask. But now that they had, there was no turning back. He continued, “She was in the upstairs loft at the store while Marcus and I were shooting the shit outside. At some point, I guess she decided to leave without telling us. I’m sure she didn’t mean nothing by it, but we’re a little concerned is all.” He shrugged, hoping the emphasis on ‘little’ was enough to keep Polly from drawing the wrong conclusions.
The woman mulled it over for a few minutes, then said, “Well, that child’s not the sharpest tack in the box. I suspect she’s found a hidey hole and will turn up in the morning. Wouldn’t be the first time she’s gone wandering.”
Josh and Marcus exchanged a glance. That was news to them, and not necessarily of the good kind. But if Petilune had made a habit of disappearing—and heaven knew the kid had more than enough reason to do so—well then, their best bet was to wait and see what transpired.
They thanked Polly and made a quick escape. Marcus muttered, “Don’t that beat all. No wonder Janice wasn’t concerned about her daughter. If she makes a habit of disappearing for short periods, there’s maybe nothing to worry about. Right?”
Josh didn’t bother to answer. They both knew, whatever habits young Petilune might have developed in order to cope with her situation at home, this time it was different. This time there was a gang of thugs roaming the area, getting into who knew what mischief.
And then there was the matter of this Kit Golden Eagle who seemed to have fallen ass over teacups for Petilune like only a teenager could. Maybe. But what if it was something else entirely?
Josh was getting a raging headache from trying to sort through all the possibilities. As it was, they were closing in on midnight and he still had a ten mile haul to get home. He pulled behind the store and parked next to his truck. Tossing the keys to Marcus, he trudged over to his own vehicle and yanked open the creaky door, the sound like nails on a blackboard.
A tiny screech nearly gave him a heart attack. A thin voice, rocky with sleep murmured, “Kit?”
Marcus cried, “Sweet Jesus, Petilune! What the hell are you doing in Josh’s truck?”
That set off waterworks as the youngster curled into a fetal position on the back seat, her frail body rocking back and forth.
“Christ, Marcus, what do we do now?”
“Fuck if I know. She can’t stay here, obviously.” Marcus pulled the door wide open. “Let’s get her upstairs. We’ll figure something out once we get her settled.”
Josh gently pried the girl sticking like a leech to the back seat out of the truck and handed her to Marcus. He was too unsteady on his leg to risk carting a child up those uneven steps. When he reached into the truck, he lifted the rear seat and withdrew his hunting rifle and scope. Under the soft leather pouch, he fumbled with the latch on a small wooden box. Inside he found his old 500 S&W. He tucked it into the waistband of his jeans, then grabbed a box of shells and shoved that into his pocket. With a rueful grin, he locked his doors.
Nothing like locking the barn door after the horse escapes.
He hated calling his sister in the middle of the night to ask her to check the horses in the morning. They weren’t grained until evening so it was just a matter of counting noses and making sure one of them hadn’t decided to commit hari kari on a fence post. Other than that he had a free day.
As for tonight, there was no way he was leaving the girl and Marcus unattended. Though everything seemed dead quiet and serene, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He felt like he was being watched. And his instincts had never played him false.
Except for that one time...
He hit speed dial and prepared to eat humble pie.
Chapter Seven
Pulling Teeth
Marcus looked askance at the change in Josh. The rifle slung over one shoulder, the revolver casually stuffed in the waistband of his jeans, the way his posture had straightened, eyes flashing blue fire... When he’d entered the loft, the man had sucked all the air out of the space ... and out of Marcus’ lungs.
Someone he knew as friend now scared the crap out of him, but in an unexpected way. He had to turn away, busy himself to seeing that Petilune rested comfortably on the couch, instead of jumping the warrior standing at attention at the door.
God, he looks hot. Capable. Really, really fucking capable...
Whoever, or whatever, had thrown a switch in Josh’s head had activated the combat veteran. The man was ice and granite, an immovable object and a force field. A warrior protecting his own.
The teakettle shrilled. He and Petilune jumped a foot. Josh twitched. It was good to know there was still a vulnerable man under that stern exterior. A man currently armed to the teeth. A man with PTSD and the remnants of a time he’d probably rather forget but never could. Every halting step he took, every time he went for normal but got caught with the short end of the stick, living every moment with the uncertainty of a sound or a smell or a feeling turning in
to a threat...
How did a man learn to adjust, how did he compensate so he didn’t fall back into the chaos, how did he keep a scrabble hold on sanity? Marcus had no answers for those questions, and he doubted he ever would. That kind of journey was too personal, too private, for the likes of a civilian without a clue, especially when he was still struggling with his own lingering sense of loss.
But there were questions he might entertain. Like... how could a friend help anchor that man until the bad passed. And how could that friend make the bad less, the good more?
Time seemed frozen. Josh rigid, at attention. Petilune snuffling, her eyes bugging out. Marcus glanced at the steam and the steady whistle. He said to Josh, “If you shoot the kettle, there won’t be hot water for oatmeal.”
“And that’s a bad thing how?”
Petilune tittered. A slow grin speared the rough frame of whiskers. Josh visibly relaxed and mouthed, “Sorry.” He set the rifle against the door frame and moved toward the sitting area. Petilune curled into the corner of the couch and patted the seat next to her, all the while never taking her eyes off Josh. When the man obligingly settled next to the girl, she offered the edge of her blanket and nodded as Josh carefully stretched the thin fabric across both their laps.
Marcus thought back to when Josh had lifted his two nieces like they were feathers, holding them secure. The man was a natural protector, something Petilune had sensed and accepted. It warmed Marcus’ heart to see the child finally calming down, though her eyes still darted nervously toward the door.
What are you expecting, Pet? Who are you afraid of?
After dumping the packets of dried oatmeal mix into bowls, he added hot water, raisins and brown sugar, stirring each until the steam dissipated and the concoction congealed. He used an overturned packing box lid as a tray, carrying the three bowls to the couch and doling them out to their reluctant recipients.
Petilune sniffed the porridge and squinted her eyes. Conflicted, the child was too polite to refuse but not nearly brave enough to take a taste.
Josh groaned, “Oh yum,” and dug in. His expression morphed from disgust to surprise. “Uh, this isn’t half bad, Marcus. What’d you put in it?”
Petilune stared at the bowl. Marcus had a pretty good idea what the girl was thinking, but in spite of her reservations, she was listening to Josh as he spooned the oatmeal into his mouth. He pointed at the bowl Marcus held and grunted, “If you aren’t gonna eat that?”
“Uh, no. You can have it.”
Before Marcus could hand over his bowl, Petilune spoke up. “No, Uncle Marcus. You need to keep up your strength.” She swiveled just enough to extend her own serving in Josh’s direction. “You can have mine, Mr. Foxglove.” She blushed pink. “I don’t mind.”
Josh lifted an eyebrow but took the offering, hiding a grin by diving into his second helping. Marcus squirmed under the girl’s fierce stare. Maybe the kid wasn’t quite as simple as most folks made her out to be. She’d certainly manipulated her way out of eating the oatmeal. And she had no intention of letting him off the hook either. He quickly ate his late evening snack while he mulled over her calling him “uncle” when up to that point it had always been “Mr. Colton” or “sir.”
While he rinsed the dishes in the bathroom sink, he overheard Josh saying, “You can call me Josh if you like, sweetie.” His voice lowered. “Or Uncle Josh?”
Petilune squeaked, “Oh no, sir. I couldn’t do that.”
“Why’s that?”
“’Cause you’re already an uncle.”
Marcus had to imagine Josh nodding and working out the convoluted logic. He had a suspicion he knew where the girl was going and was rewarded when Petilune explained, “You’re already special.”
Lord have mercy. Marcus shivered.
Josh suggested, “Well, then, how about Mr. Josh? Would that work better?”
“Yes sir, yes it would.”
“Okay, Mr. Josh it is.”
When Marcus returned to his kitchen area they were solemnly shaking hands. After drying and stacking the bowls on the shelf, he took the seat opposite the couch. He exchanged a glance with Josh, who blinked and tucked his chin enough Marcus knew it was time for them to get Petilune talking about what had happened at the parking lot. And how she’d ended up in Josh’s truck.
Somehow Josh guessed Marcus might be a little hesitant to lose his new special status in the girl’s eyes, so he took point on asking Petilune what had happened.
“Sweetie, I know you’re tired and everything, but would you mind if I asked you a couple questions?” He paused, assessing the girl’s body language. She was still curled into a tight ball, but her head was cocked in his direction. He assured her, “If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to. Do you understand?”
She mumbled, “Yes, sir, Mr. Josh.”
“Did you know those boys, the ones who beat up Will Barnes?” She shook her head no, but her eyes were downcast.
Marcus said, “We were worried they’d hurt you. Did somebody hurt you?” She cringed.
One possibility he and Josh had probably thought about and discarded was the off chance Will Barnes had been hitting on Pet. As unlikely as that seemed, Marcus asked, “Did Will do something to scare you? Because if he did...”
“N-n-no, sir. He didn’t do nothing.”
He and Josh both sucked air. If Will had been at fault, they’d have taken turns in the woodshed before turning the boy’s ass over to his father.
Josh asked, “Do you know why he was there?” Petilune pursed her lips, unsure how to answer. “Did he help you?” That got a yes.
Marcus realized they had to be very specific about how they directed the questioning. “Can you remember what he did to help?”
Josh had moved away, giving the girl some space. Marcus took his cue and forced himself to relax. Without meaning to, they’d been hovering over the girl like vultures, probably scaring her worse than she already was.
She stuttered, “I-I d-didn’t mean no harm. It was just...”
Josh extended his hand, laying it on the couch, palm up. He muttered, “It’s okay, take your time,” and took a deep breath when the girl put her hand in his.
In a weak, thready voice, she continued. “Ma and Jackie, they was done eating and wanted to git on home. Joey was off doing something. He said for them to wait, but they didn’t wanna so they sent me to look for him.”
“Joey’s the youngest, right?” She nodded. Marcus encouraged her to continue. “So what happened then?”
Her cheeks pinked up again, as she muttered, “Nothing,” and stared at her lap, clearly avoiding any topic that might get her into trouble.
Marcus had a feeling the “nothing” that happened had everything to do with the strange boy they’d seen at the service, the mysterious boyfriend who now had a name—Kit Golden Eagle. But it wasn’t yet time to bring him up.
Josh said, “You were in the reverend’s car,” giving the girl a chance to make the leap past what she wasn’t willing to admit to and put her at the place where they’d discovered her.
Petilune took the bait. “Will come up behind me. He musta heard what Ma said, ’cause he said he’d help me and when I said I was fine and not to bother, he said it wasn’t a bother, that it might not be good to be looking on my own.” She took a breath and smiled sweetly. “Will’s nice to me at school. Says howdy.” She repeated, “He’s nice,” making it sound like it was an unusual thing.
Josh remarked, “Will sounds like a good friend. So, did you find your brother?”
Undeterred from telling the story at her own pace, Petilune said, “Joey likes barbeque, you know? So we looked there and all around the tables but he wasn’t nowhere. I wanted to try the parking lot, and Will said that wasn’t a good idea, and he took my hand and tried pulling me back, but I ran away and saw Joey.”
“What was he doing?” Other than peddling drugs or testing for unlocked doors so he could check out the glove compartments and trunks for a
nything useful.
Marcus wished he had Josh’s notebook. He was curious why Will would try to keep the girl from going to the parking area. Had he seen something he didn’t like? If so, why hadn’t he told his father or any of the other adults, especially if it was dodgy enough he felt the need to keep Petilune away? When he and Josh went to visit the boy, they were going to be asking about more than the state of his health.
Petilune looked a little lost. She asked, “Joey?” Josh nodded. “Um, he was with Dee. Arguing about something.” Marcus thought, so much for not knowing the boys, but then the girl clarified she didn’t know the other two, just Dee.
“Who’s Dee? Is he a friend of Joey’s from school?” Marcus wanted to kick himself. He worried he was taking Petilune off on a tangent, and if that happened there was no telling if they’d ever find out the sequence of events.
Apparently Josh had the same concern, because he said, “You can tell us about Dee later. Just think about what happened next, okay?” He paused, letting the girl get back on track, then said, “Joey was arguing with Dee. What were the two strange guys doing?”
On solid ground again, Petilune said, “They was shoving and pushing on Joey. Poking like they do. Sometimes it’s in fun, but Joey was cussing ’em out and telling ’em to fuck off...” She clamped a hand over her mouth.
Marcus said, “It’s all right, sweetheart. It doesn’t count when someone else says it, and you’re just telling what you heard. You’re doing fine. Keep going.”
That seemed to ease her conscience. “Well, one of them grabbed Joey from behind and held him so he couldn’t get away. They was waling on him something fierce with their fists, kicking too. Me and Will, we ran fast as we could.” She shuddered. “Will got there first. He pulled ’em off Joey and yelled for him to leave, but Joey didn’t want to so he tried getting back into it, but I grabbed his arm and...” She sobbed a harsh breath as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.
Kindly, Josh asked, “And what then?”
