Those Heartless Boys

by E. M. Moore

  “And what’s that?” I ask, already knowing that what they want, I’m not willing to give them.

  The guy is close enough that I can smell his aftershave. His hair is shaved down to a buzzcut. He’d look almost military if he also didn’t look as rough around the edges as he could get. He’s the type who’s hiding a few knives—and probably guns—and knows how to use them. In fact, he might actually be good looking if he wasn’t so scary. When he grins, I expect his incisors to be shaved down to fangs, but they aren’t. He shows me a perfect set of white teeth.

  He lifts his hand. Tattoos start there and run up the length of his chiseled arm, disappearing under the sleeve of his shirt and reappearing in flames just above his collar. They reach up his neck, and as he moves, they look alive, flexing with his skin. I shy away as his fingers graze my face, but that only makes him smile wider, so I stand my ground. He brushes his fingers over my cheek. Wyatt curses again, colorful language filling the air around us until he leaps for the guy. One of the leader’s goons intercepts, holding his gun right in Wyatt’s face.

  Fuck. The guy wouldn’t accidentally miss if he pulled the trigger this close, and these guys don’t look like they give more than one warning shot.

  “It’s fine,” I say, hoping to calm Wyatt, but even I hear the waver in my voice. I’m practically shaking all over, adrenaline coursing through me with a healthy dose of unease picking at me. Five minutes ago, I was praising the fact that Wyatt, Stone, and Lucas had come into my life. But I wasn’t in danger before them, was I? Now look what they dragged me into.

  Maybe a boring life is better than a fear-filled one.

  “That’s right,” the guy says, voice suspiciously soft. “It’s fine. Now, I just need you to show me wherever this thing is that I need.”

  “What thing?”

  He grins, and this time, he bares his teeth. “Are you expecting me to believe you guys are just out here for a walk...with a shovel?”

  “You never know what you might want to dig up,” I say, my hands turning to fists at my sides. My father’s words echo through me. No one but a Wilder deserves to find the treasure. No one but a Wilder.

  “Don’t play me, Dakota,” the guy says, trailing his knuckles down my cheeks once again. His voice is laced with irritation this time. The veins on his neck stick out as his jaw tightens. He’s slowly losing patience, and we definitely don’t want that.

  Think, think…

  “She needs incentive, boss,” one of his goons says.

  Tattooed guy in front of me cocks his head. “Do you need incentive?”

  “Need incentive for what? I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

  “Dad,” Stone growls, shooting a look toward his father.

  “Shut up,” Lance spits. He watches the situation with a devilish grin, eyes gleaming.

  The rich fuckers have congregated behind the thugs now. This is what Stone meant when he said his father was in over his head, I’m sure of it. What he failed to explain was that his father was also trying to help them at the same time too. I guess that’s what people like the Jacobs are all about. Saving their own asses.

  Wow, I’m so fucking naive. I might as well be holding a sign that says, Use me because I’m fucking oblivious.

  The leader nods, and my stomach clenches. The thug next to Wyatt moves forward. Anticipating his move, Wyatt ducks in under the butt of his gun and slams his shoulder into the guy’s midsection. The goon growls, an angry red spreading over his cheeks. They wrestle to the ground, each punching the other. Stone and Lucas move to help their friend, but the other guy with the gun pushes the barrel to my forehead. “Move and she dies.”

  The metal is warm, and I close my eyes, my heart in my throat. The guys freeze right where they are. My heart gallops in my chest as the two guys wrestling on the desert floor beat each other to a pulp. Wyatt moves with a barbaric intensity that curls my toes. He’s like a monster, giving as good as he gets. The leader watches on in approval, not jumping in to stop the flying fists and kicks or trying to end it sooner than it should.

  It isn’t until Wyatt’s opponent pulls out a knife that I freak out. “No!”

  It’s too late. He stabs Wyatt in the side. When Wyatt slumps forward, he throws his body off him and gets to his feet, dusting the dirt off his clothes. Wyatt moans like a wounded animal, holding his hand over his fresh wound. Blood seeps through his fingers, soaking his shirt. The circle grows and grows.

  Panic sets in. I run over to Wyatt. “Shit. Shit. Are you okay?”

  He grins, showing off blood-stained teeth. “Don’t tell them where it is,” he says through clenched teeth. “Don’t do it.”

  The same guy he wrestled with yanks me back by the hair. Pain flares over my scalp. He wipes at his nose, blood smearing across his knuckles as I struggle against his hold.

  “Hey, hey,” the leader says, throwing the guy’s hands off me. I stumble back, and he catches me. He roams his gaze over my head before running his hands down my curls. “I read somewhere that curls were a sign of an angelic nature.”

  “The Wilder girl is a savage,” Lance barks from behind us.

  The leader’s face melts. A cruel smile tilts his lips before he turns, punching Lance in the face with a sickening crunch. “Where I come from, we treat women with respect.”

  My burning scalp would disagree.

  Lance lifts his hand to hold over his mouth. Instead of glaring at the guy who hit him, he glares at me, spitting blood out onto the floor between us.

  The leader runs his hands over his buzzcut, cracking his neck as he turns back to me. “Before this gets too far, baby girl, you’re going to have to give me the location of whatever you have hidden.”

  Since I don’t have a better plan yet, everything in me tells me to deny, deny, deny. “I don’t have anything hidden.”

  The same dark eyes that just turned on Lance freeze me in place. My heart pumps wildly, but I move my chin into the air in defiance. The information in that safe is all my family has. It’s our legacy. I can’t just give it to anyone.

  “My interest in you only goes so far. You should remember that. But since you want to play this game, I’ll play.” He nods toward one of his friends who wastes no time kicking Lucas in the shin, dropping him to his knees. He reaches over and grabs Lucas’s brown hair, shoving his face into the sand before holding the gun to his head. A shot goes off, and I scream. Blood-curdling fear rips through me. I step toward Lucas, but the leader grabs me by the waist, hauling me back into his arms. “That was a warning shot,” he growls. “Don’t play me, Dakota. Not many live to tell about it.”

  My heart jumpstarts back to life when Lucas moves, grabbing his ear and hissing in a breath. I close my eyes, my breath coming in shallow gasps. Tears prick my eyes.

  “Tell my friends where to dig.”

  My mind races. Am I willing to let us all die to keep my family’s secrets? My father was. He told me he didn’t care if we died, at least the information was only left for a Wilder.

  Fuck.

  “I get it,” the guy purrs in my ear, still caging me to him. The vein in Stone’s forehead looks like it’s going to burst as he stands there, watching the guy manhandle me. “You’re wondering if we’re serious.” He releases one arm around my middle, using it to reach behind him. He’s so close I can feel his lips tug up, but I just stare at Stone. “I think you know someone named Dickie.”

  He thrusts his hand in front of me. I peer down at what’s in his grasp. I gasp when a photo of a bloodied Dickie stares back at me. “What did you do to him?” I cry, sobs racking me now.

  I reach for it, but he removes the picture before I can even trace over the outline of Dickie’s bloodied body. I can’t tell if he’s dead or if he’s just beat to shit.

  “Apparently, your father told him he had something more. Something he never shared with him. I hoped he had so we wouldn’t have to make this about you, but you can thank Lance Jacobs that you got pulled into this.�
� He moves even closer, his hot breath hitting my ear as he whispers. “He’s a piece of scum, but he’s good for some things.”

  “He’s vile,” I growl.

  “And unfortunately, I don’t even think you know the half of it, baby girl.”

  Goosebumps spread over my arms at his nickname. It makes me feel cheap, but even then, it’s not as worse as Stone’s betrayal. To think I’d begun to trust him.

  “Get your hands off her,” Stone demands, gritting the words through his teeth while he just stands there.

  The leader smirks again, the movement plastered against my cheek. I can feel the prick of his earrings pressing into my skin and the scruff of his facial hair against my cheek. “You sound jealous, Baby Jacobs, but aren’t you her stepbrother? That’s some kinky shit right there.” He chuckles like he doesn’t not approve.

  “Where’s my mother?” Stone demands, ignoring the leader’s jab.

  “How should I know?” the guy answers, but even I don’t believe the tone of his voice. It sounds like the punchline of a joke no one asked him to tell. “Pick up that shovel,” he directs Stone. “Dakota here is going to tell you where to dig.”

  Stone crosses his arms over his chest. “No, she’s not.”

  I glare at him, looking him up and down as he just stands there even though his words are defiant. His gray blue eyes are sharp as he glares at the guy holding me, but he’s also quick to look at his father.

  Lance roars, striding across the desert floor to curse in his son’s face. Blood is smeared over his lips like some sort of gothic lipstick. His vitriol is chilling, even more so when you realize it’s being directed at his own flesh and blood. Father and son equal each other in height and stature. They’re an imposing duo standing right next to each other. The same narcissistic blood running through their veins.

  What a great show. That’s all I can think. The pair of them are two peas in a pod.

  “I can’t tell Jacobs where to dig…” I say coolly. “…because the information is in me.” I shrug, which is hard to do, considering the guy still has a death grip on me. “Do you think I’m dumb enough to actually bring these assholes out here to give them my father’s lifelong work?” I laugh into the air, letting everything I feel about the Jacobs right now come out. They’re twisted and deviant. And I can’t believe I fell for it.

  Finally, the leader lets me go. I step away, rearranging my clothes back on myself just as I’ve seen Stone do a hundred times before when he’s trying to pull himself together. “My father wasn’t an imbecile like Lance Jacobs would have you believe. He didn’t write shit down. The important shit is in my head.” Truth, actually. Only the Wilders know the one thing that could break the treasure hunt wide open. Sure, we’ve never been close enough to utilize the piece of information yet, but no one will find it without one of us. No one. “If you want it, you’re just going to have to take me, but I wouldn’t unless you think you can make me talk.”

  “People always talk,” the leader says, grinning.

  “How about someone with nothing to lose? You say you’ve been watching me? Then you see where I live. You see the fact that I have no fucking friends and that my father is missing, most likely dead. People talk because they’re threatened with losing something. Well, good luck finding something to get me with, asshole.”

  The guy straight up laughs, eyes sparking. “I recognize you in me. I admit, you have spirit, Dakota Wilder. But you’ve already shown your hand. Your weaknesses are these three.”

  I give him a dead glare, my heart pumping inside me. “You can test that theory if you want but you’ll be sorely disappointed.” I glare at Stone because he’s the only one I can muster up the strength to hate as much as I used to right now. “Let me ask you a question instead. What are you going to do with the information when you get it? Are you going to trek up into the mountains yourself to get the very same treasure that has eluded my family for the past hundred years? Are you going to hand the job over to the Jacobs?” I laugh, mimicking his menacing style, which really doesn’t take all that much acting. It is funny to think that the Jacobs would ever find the treasure before me. “I assure you they’re all talk and no skill. Lance, as you’ve already clearly figured out, is a waste of space. He may as well live out the rest of his days as an ATM.”

  “You little bitch.”

  Lance takes a menacing step toward me, but the leader lifts his hand, silencing the toxic fuck. “How can I trust that you’ll do what you say you’re going to?”

  Hope builds inside me. I may be able to get out of this after all. “I guess the question is how much do you trust yourself to keep watching me?”

  A vile smile peels his lips apart. The danger in his eyes bleeds through his very being. “The Jacobs underestimated you.”

  “Everyone does.” It’s not smart to make a deal with this guy, but right now, all I want is to bide myself some time and find out how to keep my family’s legacy safe from assholes like these guys. And yeah, not dying would be cool too.

  “The thing is, baby girl,” the leader starts. “Where I’m from, when we strike deals, we give something up.” Amusement flickers in his gaze.

  Shit. I thought I almost had him. Nervous energy pours through me, but I’ve already come this far. What’s the big deal about striking an even bigger deal with an even badder devil?

  I swallow. “Like what?”

  “A freedom, usually. An innocence. Or a thing, something that you love. It’ll be tricky with you because you say you don’t love anything.” He turns in a circle, taking in the scenario. “I think you’re full of shit on that, but I’m willing to let you play that little scenario out for now because it suits me.”

  “So?” I ask, lifting a brow, my head thundering.

  He gives me a cocksure smile. “So, you’ll give up a freedom.”

  He’s intentionally being vague, and I want to tell him to get on with it already, but I’m assuming he likes this part the best. The part where he gets to dangle the marionette strings over us. He can do it all he wants as long as my family’s legacy stays safe, and hopefully, the rest of us too. “You’ll have to explain that one to me.”

  He pulls a gun from the waistband of his pants and holds it in front of him. “You have to prove your willingness to team up with us. In doing so, you give up a little piece of yourself and place it in our hands where we’ll keep it nice and safe...or don’t,” he says, shrugging. “It all depends on what you choose.”

  I stare at the black handgun swaying from his fingers. My father taught me how to shoot when we were in the mountains. After we would make camp, we used to set up target practice, listening to the gun fire echoing around us.

  “We’ll agree to leave you alone for now if you put a bullet in...Lance Jacobs.”

  I gaze over my shoulder to watch the color drain from Lance’s face. “The fuck? That’s not what we agreed to. I’ll kill you for this. I’ll—”

  “Soon, Dakota,” the leader says. “If I have to listen to the words coming out of his mouth for much longer, the deal is gone, and you’ll wish you were dead.”

  “I’ve never—”

  “Take the gun,” he roars.

  I take it, feeling the weight of it in my hands. I stumble with it on purpose. I don’t want him to know I’ve used one of these before. Sometimes, it’s best to hold all your cards close to the vest.

  “Dakota,” Stone says, voice unsure. He swallows, and the Adam’s apple bobs in his throat.

  His low tone pierces my gut, but I block it out. He brought his father here. I owe him nothing, and I owe his father even less than that. “It’s the only way,” I say, looking away. There’s something in his eyes that could make me change my mind, and I’m not going to do that. This is what will save us all right now. Unless I’ve completely read the situation wrong.

  “Dakota,” Stone urges.

  Lance prowls forward, gazing from me to the gun. “You little bitch.”

  I raise the barrel, aimin
g it square in his chest.

  He still strides toward me, face angry. He doesn’t think I’m going to do it. He calls me every twisted name in the book. Whore. Slut. Cunt. Freak.

  I peek at Wyatt, who’s still clutching his side. He’s white as a sheet, cringing, blood still pooling over his fingers. Lucas’s face is still smashed in the dirt. His keeper has a booted foot on the back of his neck, holding him there no matter how hard he struggles. While I watch, he nudges the barrel of the gun into Lucas’s head.

  Lance is almost to me now. I line up my shot and take the safety off. His eyes round for a fraction of a second, the disgusting words he’s shouting at me die on his lips as I pull the trigger.

  I had no other choice.

  The gunfire doesn’t echo like I remember. It pierces my ears for a brief moment before it’s carried away on the wind.

  Lance slumps to the ground. I watch his body hit, but nothing comes over me. Not remorse. Not anger. Not even satisfaction.

  The leader steps into my view, holding his hand out for the gun. I hand it over, and he grins. “It’ll be nice working with you, Dakota Wilder. I’m Cole.” His grin stays as he pockets the gun, but then it slips from his face as he reaches to the collar of his shirt, yanking it down to reveal a dragon. Flames shoot from its open mouth, leaping up Cole’s neck. “You’re now the property of the Dragons. We’ll be in touch.”

  Cole moves out of my line of sight, his two friends trailing him to the ATV’s. But all I can focus on is Stone. He leans over his father’s body as bright red blood spills from the hole I made.

  Calm washes over me. I guess I really am a Wilder now.

  Treasure above everything else.

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