by Dee Tenorio
Katrina ground her teeth against the memories. Coming home to find the ambulance and police officers waiting for her. Realizing that her greatest fear had happened. That the sadness and the nightmares in her father’s eyes had finally taken what was left of him. Leaving her alone…
Damn Cade for dragging it all back up.
She didn’t feel responsible for him because of David Killian’s suicide. She refused to. Her responsibilities were to her agency and to this godforsaken piece of shit town. To those little kids Cade was so damn interested in keeping safe. She didn’t feel a goddamned thing about the man who couldn’t even let her give him an apology for running out on him.
She didn’t care what he thought of her at all.
Now that’s pretty good bullshitting, Katy…
She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, forcing her temper to cool. Anger wouldn’t do anything but keep her awake. Same with guilt. Guilt for lying. Guilt for running. Guilt for pushing Cade into a relationship she couldn’t handle.
For weeks after they’d had sex, she’d avoided him. Refused to let herself think about him. Pushed away the emotions he’d brought into what should have been simple, stress-relieving fucking. Then, eventually, she’d had to admit he wasn’t the only one who’d brought feelings into the mix. She just hadn’t counted on what those feelings could mean. What they might make her crave.
Commitment.
Honesty.
Vulnerability.
None of those things were part of her world anymore. Or his. Any one of them could get either of them killed. Or worse. She’d seen before what these bastards did to the women they discarded. It was worse for the ones they felt had betrayed them. She thought once again of Brynn Collins. Unbelievably worse.
And yet, she’d tried over and over to explain.
Cade refused to listen.
Do you really blame him, Katy-girl? When all you’re gonna do is get that poor bastard ripped apart?
She folded her arms again stubbornly, as they’d been before, the only difference that she kept her grip tighter on the knife.
It didn’t matter now. Cade wasn’t going to give her the time of day and she needed to be happy about that. They were both safer apart.
“Damn it, Katy, he’s gonna need stitches this time,” someone complained. Wolf Hubrick. Young, stupid enough to think the bikers who controlled the town were heroes, Wolf was the bar’s busboy and part-time janitor.
“Maybe he’ll remember to keep his hands to himself next time,” she said around a yawn. If they could sense her fear, she was as good as fucked. As long as she held her own, no one would bother her. She held onto that knowledge with a desperation she didn’t want to feel. Couldn’t afford.
“Can’t you just kick him in the face or something? Damn!”
“Shut up, dogboy,” Hawkings snapped. “Gimme that rag.”
“Take it,” Wolf groused back. “Mop up your own blood while you’re at it.”
Katrina opened her eyes at the genuine disgust in the kid’s voice, to say nothing of the solid thump and a grunt from Hawkings before Wolf stomped off. “What’d you do to the kid?”
Wolf’s worship was practically a given for anyone wearing the cut, a source of open ridicule from all the members.
“Nothin’,” Hawkings answered, wrapping the wet towel gingerly over his hand and wrist. He didn’t look up and his usual arrogance was definitely missing. The last time she’d sliced him, a slash to his shoulder, he’d bragged she gave him a love tap.
Her exhaustion fled in a heartbeat, replaced by adrenaline. The bar was quiet, something she hadn’t given enough thought to earlier. Anyone who hadn’t been arrested would be here waiting for orders. Especially with Frank in the town lockup. None of these morons knew what to do with themselves without him. But now…only her, Wolf, and Hawkings?
“What’s going on, Hawk? Where is everyone?”
“You should know since you’re in so good with that bat-shit crazy sheriff.”
Katrina rolled her eyes. Cade wasn’t crazy. He might not be completely stable, but he wasn’t crazy. And he didn’t want to see her anymore…
Concentrate on Hawkings. He’s concentrating on you.
“I’ve had no sleep and no food since before yesterday. Rode out to Corcoran and back before I had to spend all goddamn day sorting out idiots who got into a fight with cops for no damn reason. Do not screw with me right now or that cut really will be a love tap.”
Hawkings’s lip curled. “Everyone who wasn’t busted by the war hero and your boyfriend is guarding Shana.”
“He’s not my—” She bit off the tirade. English was wasted on Hawkings. “Why are they protecting Shana?” Everyone knew Frank was the one she needed protection from and she was safe whenever he was in the lockup.
When the idiot shrugged, she kicked him none too lightly.
“She’s in the hospital, okay? When he found out about it, the fuckin’ undersheriff went insane. Frank doesn’t want the bastard to hustle her out of town so he sent the boys out there to keep an eye on her.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit! It sounded more like an excuse for Frank to get rid of Rick—and his partner. Katrina licked her lips, forcing herself to pretend a shaft of sheer terror hadn’t hit her right in the gut. “Shana all right?”
Hawkings’s pout was nothing good. “She’ll live. It’s just a couple broken bones. I’ve gotten worse fallin’ off my bike.”
It took all her will not to kick him in the face this time, like Wolf said. She could smash his nose and cheekbone before he even realized what was happening. God, she wanted to. At least now she knew what had set Wolf off. The kid liked Shana. Everyone liked her.
But no one was interested in helping her.
“A couple of bones.” It wasn’t a question.
“Arm. Maybe some fingers, I don’t know. I’ve been here, waiting for your cranky ass.”
Why, she quickly wondered, but there were more important questions. “What about the kid?”
“Probably with her. What do you think I am, the fuckin’ internet?”
“You’re a pig, Hawkings.”
Katrina almost reached for her phone to see if there had been a call from Jimmy but she couldn’t do that in front of present company.
She grumbled to herself as she slid out of the opposite end of the curved seat. Rick Trelane, single-handedly fucking up her situation yet again. Well, not single-handed.
Katrina was up and on her way to the door, trying not to register the worry attempting to bubble inside her. If the men were at the hospital, Rick would walk right into it, no matter the consequences to himself, his friends, or the innocent people he wanted to save. Asshole would let the world fall apart if it would save Shana.
“Wait, Frank said to keep you here.”
She practically skidded to a stop, hand already on the front door. Had Frank figured out the truth? Was he testing her loyalty? She looked back at Hawkings, who apparently was meant to be her jailer. “Why?”
Hawkings only shook his head, shuffling toward the men’s bathroom. “He said he wants you here when he calls.” He slammed the door behind him, leaving her alone, but she wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t take his eyes off her if Frank didn’t want him to, even if she’d cut off his hand. This was a fucking trap.
You’ve helped her too many times, princess. Who’s in the crosshairs now?
Her eyes closed, dread filling her. She might hate the voice in her head, but it was never wrong. Frank wasn’t going to call. He was holding her here to make sure she didn’t interfere with Shana. One more mind game. One more example of his control over her. He was wrong, of course, but she couldn’t let him know that.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the time to tip her hand.
She stared at the door, her fingers gripping tighter around the brass handle. Guilt tore at her conscience. How she still had one, she didn’t know. It felt torn into smaller and smaller pieces every time she had to sacrifice doing what was right
in order to serve the greater good. It would cost another shred of her psyche if she stayed, if she didn’t warn Cade to steer clear of Shana’s hospital room. If she kept up this game of cat and mouse.
Suddenly, she realized she couldn’t hold too much of a grudge against Rick. She wasn’t much different, trying to protect everyone and risking exposure when she didn’t have to. Every price she’d already paid for this operation was too high to walk away from. Too high to throw away.
I’m sorry, Cade. This time, you’re on your own.
She let go.
Chapter Seven
“Why are we doing this again?” Rick asked, grunting in exertion as he pushed hard against the heavy fence post. Both of them were sweating through their long-sleeved shirts, the gloves on their hands adding to the heat beating on their shoulders. They’d been at this for hours, clearing out damaged posts and wire, digging holes, and dropping new posts into place. Rick packed loose dirt around each pole with a capped metal pipe and Cade strung the posts, holding them tight for Rick to staple the wires down.
“Because Milly asked us to.” The post finally dropped solidly into place.
Milly was a widow trying to hold her small ranch together up here in the mountains. She had only one ranch hand, the others having gone off when her husband died. Her husband had refused to let Wheels of Pain use his land for storage. After he’d been found in a ravine, no one else wanted to risk their lives to help the old woman stand against them.
“Milly Walters has never asked for a goddamned thing in her life.” Rick leaned on the fence post and wiped his brow. “And I know for a fact she’d never ask us to do this. She barely knows you and she nearly shot my balls off once for being on her land without permission.”
Cade wiped his own forehead, heading over to the skein of barbed wire next to the last post they’d strung. “Guess it’s a good thing you’re on the outside of the fence, then.”
Rick shook his head, watching as Cade carefully restrung the wire the way he’d been told by Jace Wilkes at the feed supply store in town. Milly was only one of about eight ranches on the outskirts of Marketta. Mostly small operations, they ran everything from dairy farms and chicken ranches to produce and orchards. Milly was one of the few who had horses and acres of private timberland. Open sections like this were just asking for trouble, especially when Cade found several motorcycle tracks.
“What exactly are you expecting to come from all this?”
“All what?” For the fifth damn time Cade’s glove caught on one of the sharp ticks of the wire. Well, he never said he was anyone’s cowboy.
“Picking up Old Jean’s mail every day. Coffee at the diner most mornings when we can just as easily fill up a thermos at the station and sit in the truck instead. I think I saw you carry groceries for Carrie Anne Milford the other day. For the past month, it’s like you’ve been practically spinning cartwheels to make the townsfolk like you.”
Cade looked up. Was that amusement in Rick’s voice? He couldn’t even remember the last time his friend had laughed at anything. “You think it’s working?”
Rick took a breath, openly considering the answer. “Well, they aren’t crossing the street to get away from you anymore.”
Cade accepted that with a grunt. “Progress, then.”
He’d taken to sitting at the park bench near the playground instead of his tree. The kids had started to shyly smile at him even. No one had come close, but every time one of those little grins was pointed his way, it started a warmth in his chest he was quickly getting accustomed to. Maybe, just maybe, there might be a chance for this place. There might be chance for him.
Hard as it had been to swallow, Trina’s advice had helped him see that. Helped him see a lot of things…
“You haven’t been sitting out with Katy for a while,” Rick rumbled, as he shoved the last seven-foot post out of the truck.
Just like that, the wire went through Cade’s glove, slicing his palm. He swore, ripping the thing off impatiently.
“I see she’s been her usual charming self.”
Rick’s attitude concerning Trina rankled. Always did. But Cade had to admit, Trina hadn’t spoken much better toward him. “She’s fine.”
And so was he, though the cut stung like a bitch.
“You just don’t want to be around her anymore.” Rick said it like a statement, but Cade heard the question underneath.
He shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. If he talked, he’d think and if he thought, he’d wonder if he made a mistake pushing her away. Like he’d tried not to think for the last two months. She’d been nothing but kind to him, though most would balk at his definition of kind. She was a blunt, no-bullshit woman, and he couldn’t help liking that about her. Under her rough demeanor was a generous, compassionate person. A sensitive one, who had her own scars and open wounds. The contradiction confused and captivated him, tempting him to track her down and beg her forgiveness.
Even if she gave it, the problems between them remained. Her loyalty to her club would always conflict with his mission, his growing dedication to these people.
“Katy never could play anything straight.”
“What’s your problem with her anyway?” A horrifying thought crossed his mind, one that should have occurred to him long ago. Both Katrina and Rick had grown up here in Marketta. “Were you two ever—”
Rick’s black glare relieved pressure Cade hadn’t realized had started to build.
“I had to ask,” he replied roughly, going back to pulling the bottom wire tight with the wire stretcher, then coiling it around the bottom of the post.
“You sure as shit didn’t,” Rick snapped. “There’s never been a damn thing between me and Katy Killian except for a lot of mutual dislike. Something you should keep in mind before you start thinking about tangling with her again. She’s dangerous. Her family’s dangerous. Nothing you do or say to her is going to change that.” A few whacks of the hammer had the line held in place, and they repeated the process in sullen silence.
Cade worked, watching his friend sweat and swear, feeling that disconnection trying to creep back between them. Something under his skin insisted he ask questions. Dig for the truth.
“Why do you two despise each other so much?”
He wasn’t sure if Rick would answer him. The silence stretched out so long they got the last pole almost completely tamped before Rick started talking.
“Katy got shipped up here to live with her uncle when we were kids. I never envied her that, since Cooper Killian was a bastard and a half even then. At first, she didn’t talk to anyone much but she seemed nice enough. Then, after a few months or so, she started getting into trouble. Getting into fights. She was always in one scrape or another from then on. And she had a mouth on her you wouldn’t believe.”
Cade almost smiled, picturing a tiny Trina, thumbing her nose at everyone, holding them off with bravado instead of sense.
“Then she started getting busted for stealing and it went downhill from there.”
“Downhill how?”
“When she was fourteen she got caught stealing a car. Crashed it into a tree. Got shuttled out to juvie for that stunt.”
No surprise. She’d told him she hit juvie repeatedly in her teens. “How does that turn into you hating her?”
“Aside from the fact it was my dad’s car?”
Ah. “Aside from that.”
Rick blinked a few times. “Can’t really say, exactly. She and I ran in different circles, judged each other left and right. People thought of me as some kind of golden boy I guess, and that left her as the black sheep. Coming back from Afghanistan in one piece to be a sheriff while she comes back to be some kind of halfway old lady hasn’t really helped.”
Cade nodded, but both of them knew Rick was hardly in one piece. Neither was Trina.
“We just always seemed to be on opposite sides of everything.”
“Bet that happens a lot when your only parent is the local boogeyman.
”
Rick looked at him for several long moments. Not his usual stare, which all but dared Cade to say something. No, this was that eerie stare, his eyes so arctic it almost lifted goose bumps on Cade’s sweaty, long-sleeved arms. “Are you trying to make me feel bad for her or something?”
“No.” Trina would hate to be the object of anyone’s pity.
“Because I won’t. Katy made her own choices. Red Dog isn’t even in Marketta anymore. She’s here because she wants to be, and the sooner you realize she’s poison to someone like you, the better off you’ll be.”
Cade stiffened. “What do you mean, someone like me?”
“Someone hanging onto his code by a thread. All it’d take is one little yank from her and you’ll forget yourself. Do things you never thought you could, all the while convincing yourself you had to for her sake. Until you become something you hate. Then where’ll you be, Cade?”
In hell.
Cade nodded, knowing his friend was right, but at the same time… The taut lines on Rick’s face. The misery and rage, hidden just under the surface of a face that should have been young but wasn’t. Cade knew then, Rick wasn’t talking about him.
“Shana?” he asked, but he didn’t have to. Cade knew the constant friction between the club and his friend had as much to do with Shana as it did the terrorizing of the rest of the town. Some might think more. “All this, everything you’re doing with the MC… It’s for her.”
Rick’s expression shuttered and he looked down, gloved hands loosely at his hips. Helplessness shadowed his frustrated sigh.
Arresting Carter every few weeks was essentially the source of the town-wide tension. Sooner or later—sooner, if Cade didn’t miss his guess—it would erupt into open gunfire. Shana had called Rick from her hospital bed and very calmly asked him to back down on his investigation. Cade had seen the torment on Rick’s face when she asked. He hadn’t stayed, stepping out of the personal conversation, but he knew shortly after she’d checked out of the hospital and had herself and her son driven home.
