by CJ Bishop
He’d been certain the Egyptian would die a lonely, bloody death. The cowboy, as well.
Braden rubbed his eyes. Why would the cowboy say these things if they weren’t true? The man had always been a straight shooter—bound by the truth. If Clint “the cowboy” Maddox said it—you could damn well take it for gospel.
Even as he stumbled over this new image of the two men—something filtered into the cowboy’s voice that Braden had never heard before: emotion. Deep emotion.
“What do you want from me?”
“We’re going to transport the kids and families in two groups,” Clint said. “They’ll have eyes on both groups. We need people outside the groups to keep tabs on them. Let us know how close they are, from which direction they’re coming at us. We’ll post others along the routes for this purpose, but coming through Montana, we’ll be on the last leg of our journey. If they haven’t overtaken us by then, they’ll likely take drastic measures to stop us before we reach the border.”
“The border?”
“The Canadian border.”
“You’re taking them to Canada?”
“Yes.” The cowboy went silent a moment. “You’re one of the few I trust completely. Even after all this time, I still trust you. Next to Nathan, you were the best of us. I need to know that when it counts the most—there’s someone out there, watching our backs, who knows what the fuck he’s doing.” Another pause. “I’m bringing someone very special with me… the man I intend to marry. I mean to get him home safely. So, I need the best of the best on our team.”
Marry? Another “concept” Braden had difficulty with regarding the cowboy.
“I understand your situation,” Braden said, “but my granddaughter is my priority. I won’t put her in danger by getting caught up in that life again.”
“I’m not asking you to engage—just watch and report back.” He exhaled. “Some of these kids we’re transporting… they were trafficked to a private prison and given to the prisoners. We lost a little girl in there.” His voice tightened, straining with emotion. “She died while being strangled and raped by her attacker.” The tension in the cowboy reverberated through the line. “If they manage to overtake us—the kids that made it out of the prison alive… will be trafficked again. And their chances of survival a second time around…”
The depth of concern in the cowboy left Braden stunned.
Downstairs, Beth moved about the cabin, calling out to him in her sweet, innocent singsong voice.
We lost a little girl in there… strangled and raped by her attacker.
Braden closed his eyes against the brutal image, helpless to see Beth’s face on the child. Just the thought of his granddaughter cast into such horror shot pain through his entire body, pelting his heart and forging a tight band around his chest.
Clearing his throat, Braden muttered, “I’ll think about it. Call me back tomorrow.”
“Good enough,” the cowboy said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Braden ended the call and leaned forward, slowly dragging his palm over his mouth.
“Grandpa!” Beth called. “Cocoa’s ready!”
Braden blinked, startled by the sudden dampness in his eyes. He cleared his throat again, returned the phone to its secret hiding spot, locked the desk drawer, and stood up. “Coming, sweetheart.”
• • •
“How did it go?” Axel asked.
Clint joined him on the sofa and stretched his arm across the back cushions. “Not sure yet. He said he would think about it. I won’t know for sure until tomorrow.”
“What do you think he’ll do?”
“Hard to say. When he left, he wanted nothing more to do with that life.”
“Why did he leave?”
Clint reached out and stroked Hope’s warm cheek. “His daughter died in a car accident and left him guardian of his infant granddaughter. Soon after, he took the little girl and moved to Montana and cut off contact with everyone in our world.” He sighed. “I think he would have left anyway. Maybe not that soon, but it would’ve happened.”
“Why?”
“Because I think he only stayed as long as he did for Nathan. When Nathan went to prison, he kept mostly to himself. Nathan had been in prison for about a year when Braden’s daughter died. I’m certain he was already making plans to go and becoming guardian of his granddaughter finalized it.”
Axel adjusted the baby in his arms. “Were he and Nathan… involved?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t even say if Braden was gay. Or, for that matter, Nathan. If something was going on between them, they kept it well hidden.”
“And he’s been living alone with his granddaughter all these years?”
“As far as I know, but that’s not saying much.” Clint smiled. “I know nothing of his life since he left.”
“How old is he?”
“Uh…” Clint frowned. “Mid-to-late fifties. I never really knew for sure. But I think he was near Nathan’s age.”
Axel sighed and leaned into Clint’s warm body. “If there was something between them,” he whispered, “it’s sad.”
“Sad?”
“That he lost him that way.” Axel’s throat knotted. “When you were taken away last time… I thought I was going to lose you that way… and it hurt like hell. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it had been for real.” He sniffed and nuzzled his head against Clint’s neck. “And then if you’d died in there…” A shuddered breath left him. “… I would’ve died out here.”
CHAPTER 10
Braden stood at the living room window and watched the shadows slowly creep out of the snow-laden forest surrounding the cabin. The sky grew darker by the moment and snowflakes floated down. Winter in Montana was nothing like winter in New York City. The snow was pure, the air crisp… and the winter wonderland that emerged took his breath away. The city was noisy, the air polluted, the freshly fallen snow quickly reduced to filthy, grimy slush.
Why was he thinking about the city? Because of the cowboy’s call? Regardless of whether he helped the cowboy, he wasn’t returning to the city, to that life, that world.
“Grandpa?” Beth joined him at the window and slipped her small hand into his much larger one. “What’s wrong?”
He sighed and smiled down at her. “Nothing, honey.”
“Why did your phone start beeping?”
“It was nothing.”
The child was neither stupid nor oblivious to her grandfather’s mood swing. “You’re acting different.”
“Different than what?”
“Than the way you always act.”
“What way is that?”
Her face scrunched. “Happy.”
Braden laughed softly and scooped her up. She was small for her age and weighed light as a feather. He brushed her dark blond strands away from her face and kissed her cheek. “I am happy, sweetheart. You make me happy. I just have some things on my mind, but everything is okay.” He tickled her cheek with his stubble. “Okay?”
Beth giggled and scrunched her shoulders. “Okay.”
“Why don’t you go pick out a movie for us to watch and I’ll get on dinner in just a few minutes.”
She grinned and squirmed free of his arms, racing to the sofa where she turned on the TV, opened Netflix, and began surfing through the movies.
Braden returned his focus to the falling night outside the window. For the first time since coming to the cabin—the descending darkness felt ominous.
• • •
The following morning, Cochise waited until Kane was in the shower, then went looking for Zoe. He found her in the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee and toasting a bagel. The boys hadn’t made an appearance yet.
“Here.” Cochise took out his wallet and laid a few large bills on the counter. “For… what we talked about. If you need more, let me know.”
Zoe waved her bandaged hand. “I got it covered. I’ll use my credit card.”
“No. You don’t have t
o pay for it.” He shoved the bills her way.
“Don’t be stubborn.” She scooped up the cash, took his wallet, and stuffed the bills back inside. “Let me do this for you. I want to. You’ve done so much for us.” She looked at her wrapped hand and smiled. “Not the least of which, saved me from giving it up to a total shithead.” Zoe gazed up at him. “You’re my hero. You and Uncle Kane both. So, no more argument. I’m taking care of everything.”
Cochise didn’t bother correcting her—that it was them who’d done so much for him—knowing she wouldn’t accept it. She’d taken to him the moment they met, and, in her eyes, he was their blessing.
With a grumbling sigh, he tucked away his wallet. Zoe flashed a satisfied smile. “Now, sit down and I’ll make you some breakfast.”
“You don’t have to.”
Zoe pointed at the table for him to sit. “When are you going to learn it’s pointless to argue with me? I can be every bit as stubborn as you—and more so.”
The Egyptian smiled small and sat down. “I’m learning… slow but sure.”
Zoe laughed. “Good. The sooner the better.” She filled a cup with coffee and brought it to him, then kissed the top of his head. “You know you’re irreplaceable, right?” she whispered. “Not just to Uncle Kane.”
He shifted in the chair and picked up his coffee.
“Say you know it.” Zoe stood beside his chair, her hand on his shoulder.
Cochise looked up at her. The truth was in her soft blue eyes. And his heart knew it was the truth—it was his head that had difficulty grasping the reality. He nodded. “I know.”
“You better.” She kissed his cheek this time, then commenced to cook him a “full” breakfast.
• • •
“Are you going to stop by Cory’s place while you’re in town?”
Clint nodded.
“And I can’t come with you because…?”
“Because we have other things to deal with as well,” Clint said.
Axel cradled the warm coffee mug in his palms as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “The same thing you couldn’t tell me about before?”
“Yes.”
“Does it involve the scouts you want to post along the routes?”
“Yes.”
“So, why can’t I know about it? You didn’t hide your call to Braden.”
The cowboy released a stiff breath. “Because this isn’t Braden. And he doesn’t want his name passed around. If anyone but myself and Cochise show up—what trust he has in us would be shot. Maybe us too.”
Axel frowned. “Maybe you, too… what?”
“Shot,” Clint replied as he took a bite of toast.
“What?” Axel stiffened. “He would kill you for bringing someone else along?”
“Possibly.”
“He doesn’t sound very stable. Why would you bring someone like him into this?”
Clint sat at the table with his coffee and partially eaten piece of toast. “Because we need people exactly like him out there with us.”
“You told Braden you wouldn’t ask him to engage… but what about this guy?”
“Engaging is what he does best.”
“And you trust him?”
“I wouldn’t go to him if I didn’t trust him.”
Axel trusted Clint but wasn’t sure how he felt about this anonymous, trigger-happy killer out on the road with them.
“Don’t worry about it,” Clint said, reading him like an open book. “He won’t be with either of the groups. You’ll never meet him.”
“Not sure if that makes me feel better or worse,” Axel mumbled.
Clint finished his toast and stood. “It should make you feel better.”
That didn’t ease his anxiety.
Downing the last of his coffee, Clint kissed Axel on the lips. “I have to go.”
“When do you think you’ll be home?”
“Not sure. We’re going to run out and talk to Cruz as well, start putting the two teams together.”
“Okay. Call me when you’re heading home, and I’ll make sure you have a warm meal waiting for you.”
Clint smiled, kissing him again, drawing it out. “And a hot dessert?”
“Mm.” Axel moaned into his mouth. “Absolutely.”
When Clint withdrew and headed for the back door to cross over to Cochise’s place, Axel had the sudden compulsion to grab on to him and make him stay. He didn’t know why—he had no ominous gut feelings—just that, at that moment, he wanted Clint in his arms… in their bed.
The back door closed behind the cowboy as Axel stood still and let him go. Though Clint was taking him on this job… in some ways, it still felt like he wasn’t part of it.
• • •
“When are we leaving?” Cochise asked.
“Tomorrow or the day after,” Clint said. “We’ll have a better idea once we speak to Cruz and see if his men are ready.”
“Day after tomorrow.”
“What?”
“We’ll go the day after tomorrow,” Cochise said.
“Why?”
The Egyptian took a moment to answer. “I have something to do tonight… I won’t be ready to go by tomorrow.”
“What do you have to do?”
Cochise shifted behind the wheel and mumbled, “Nothing about the job.”
The cowboy stared at him; his interest piqued. “You’re not going to tell me?”
“No.”
Clint smiled small. “So, now we’re keeping secrets?”
“Yes.”
“If I keep asking, will you give in and tell me?”
“No.”
Clint chuckled. “Didn’t think so.”
“Braden hasn’t called yet?”
“No. He isn’t an easy man to read. With the last phone call, I couldn’t determine if he would join us.”
“He never was an easy man to read.”
“At least he didn’t tell me to go fuck myself, then hang up.” Clint shrugged. “That’s something, I guess. It’s early yet. He could call any time today or this evening.”
Cochise grunted without comment. Everything they did today was important to the job, but his mind refused to focus on the tasks at hand and drifted elsewhere… forward to the evening. Had he made a mistake? He was out of his element, exploring uncharted territory, but it was something he needed to do—before he left again.
• • •
“This way.” The tall lean black man led the two gangsters along a different route than before, trudging deep into the bowels of the abandoned automobile factory. The distant stench of stale smoke lingered though it had been two years since the deadly fire that took over a dozen lives and brought the plant to a screeching halt. They passed by the skeletal remains of vehicles that had died on the line—now rusted, charred shells shedding burned paint.
Their “guide” stopped outside a closed door and motioned for them to enter. He didn’t follow them into the room as he closed the door behind them.
Malcolm lounged behind an old desk, casually rolling a quarter through his fingers. “What do you have for me?”
The “watchdog” stood nearby, hands clasped behind his back—likely gripping a weapon—his dark eyes locked on the two men.
“We’re leaving out of San Antonio, heading for Calgary, Canada,” Clint said. “We don’t expect any trouble through Oklahoma, and possibly Kansas. The traffickers will want to watch us for a while, size up the situation, see what they’re dealing with. We’re expecting them to make their move by Nebraska, though. They won’t want us to get too far away before they overtake us. And the states we’ll be traveling through will provide prime opportunities for them. There’s a lot of rural country out there and we’ll be staying away from interstates and large cities.”
Malcolm leaned forward and caught the quarter between thumb and index finger. “Are you willing to bet they’ll hold off until Nebraska?”
“No.”
“Do you know the route you’ll tak
e?”
“Not yet. We won’t know until we arrive in San Antonio.”
The black Mexican stared at him a moment, then scribbled on a piece of paper and slid it across the desk to Clint. “Email me the route.”
Clint picked up the paper with the email address and met the man’s stare. “Is this secure?”
“Do you always ask stupid questions?” the watchdog asked.
Malcolm held up his hand, silencing the younger man. “It’s secure.”
Clint nodded. “We’ll be leaving for Texas…” He glanced at Cochise. “… day after tomorrow. I figure it’ll take us another day or so to mobilize and head out.”
The man leaned back again and resumed the coin-roll. “I’ll see you on the road, cowboy.” The edge of his mouth curved. “But you won’t see me.”
• • •
“We gathered ten men for each team,” Cruz said. “Not counting you two and Axel, and me and Sanchez. Will that be enough? We can get more, if necessary.”
Clint shook his head. “That should be enough. We want to be able to keep track of everyone, make it harder for the fuckers chasing us to pick us off.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“You’re leaving adequate protection for your family?”
“Absolutely.” Cruz looked at the two men. “They’ll be watching out for your families as well. I know Cory will be here, and Anthony and Angelo, but I thought some added protection…”
Clint nodded. “Yes. Thank you. The more eyes on our families, the better I’ll feel.”
Clearing his throat, Cruz said, “I have to be honest, I’m a little surprised you’re taking Axel along.”
“That seems to be the consensus among everyone. But he’s ready, and he’s capable.”
