Rustler's Heart

by Amanda McIntyre

  He eyed her a moment, chuckled, and then lowered his hand, straightening his Armani tie. “Just like your mother.”

  “Fortunately, she taught me more than you think, because I don’t need you, and I don’t need your money.”

  He looked straight ahead, indifferent, in control. “You’ll feel differently when you see how much tuition is to that school of yours. Unfortunately, your mother, God-rest-her-soul, nullified her largely inadequate life insurance policy by virtue of how she chose to depart this world.”

  She leaned forward and tapped on the smoke-glass window shielding them from the driver. The window rolled down. “Pull over here and stop.”

  He looked over his shoulder, his expression hidden behind his mirrored sunglasses, but she caught the quirk at the corner of his mouth. She shook her head. There was nothing now holding her here. She wouldn’t bow to her father’s abusive control. “I said pull the goddamn car over.”

  “Don’t be a fool. He can’t just stop. There are well over a hundred cars following us.”

  Ignoring him, Liberty wrenched open the door. The limo came to an immediate stop. She stepped out, the mud from the rain earlier squishing into her heels and glanced back at the long procession of cars—not for her mother, but filled with those who bottom fed from her father’s many Vegas enterprises. She bent down, holding to the door with one hand. “You know, you may have given me your seed, but you have never been a father.”

  He scooted across the seat; his dark, hateful gaze penetrated her heart. “You get back in the car, this instant you ungrateful—”

  Liberty didn’t wait for the rest. She slammed the door in his face. A small victory in the memory of her mother against the man who’d pushed her into an early grave. The window rolled down part way as the car lurched forward. “You’ll regret this, Liberty. You could have had anything you wanted.”

  “At what price?” she called out as the car carried him away. She didn’t care if anyone heard. They knew him well enough. She watched the faces of those in the cars that passed her. With each fearful glance, each look of pity, her resolve grew. Most of them lived in fear of his power. She’d just liberated herself from it. Overhead a clap of thunder reverberated in her chest and another rain shower washed down. She turned her face to the heavens, letting the water free her with its cleansing freshness. Pain, fear, and an unfathomable sense of loss, pierced her to the core. Her tears were lost in the torrent. But she opened her arms wide and spoke to the sky. “We’re free, momma. We’re finally free.”

  A few weeks later, she’d enrolled at the university, taking full responsibility for her loans. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that the part-time waitress position wasn’t going to be enough to make ends meet. Then, like an answer to her silent prayers, she met the devil in the form of exotic Angelo Patreous. He and his friends often stopped in late at night after some of the clubs on the strip had closed. In comparison to the bleary-eyed drunks that frequented the diner, he was a god—tall, exotic, and oozing charm. Well-to-do, he owned several clubs in the area, and much to Liberty’s delight, he had no connection to her father. That alone appealed to her.

  “You are a very lovely woman.” He would tell her, showing off his white even smile. She accepted his flirtatious praise and his generous tips for the expert way she’d serve his pancakes. One thing led to another and she found herself invited to one of his clubs, where he introduced her to his dancers. A few weeks later, she found herself headlining and earning enough to pay off what loans she’d accumulated, rent a nice apartment and convince herself as long as she could dance she didn’t need college.

  ***

  “Do you have change for a dollar?”

  The fresh-faced, new bride pulled Liberty from her reverie. “Oh, sorry. No. Maybe the attendant can help you?”

  “Sure, thanks.” Her lover could barely let go of her as she struggled to stand.

  Liberty readjusted her things, aware that the movement from the young woman had once more stirred the putrid air filtered in from unclean bathrooms. The arrogant looking dark-haired lady behind her shifted in her seat, assaulting Liberty with her sickly, sweet perfume. She spied a streetlight outside the murky, picture window, but decided she’d be safer inside, despite the intrusion to her senses.

  Liberty watched as the giggling young woman return to her amorous husband. He wasted no time as he slipped into the men’s bathroom, and returned with a handful of condoms.

  She looked away. Their reckless behavior reminded her too much of how she and Angelo once were. She’d been with him nearly three years, accepting the fact that his cut of the dancers wages were to help pay for overhead, new props, and costuming. She discovered though, through the grapevine that he possessed an expensive cocaine habit, and while he never made it obvious, she began to see the signs—the paranoia, the sleeplessness, the abuse. Angelo wouldn’t be happy when he found out that she’d snuck in his office and taken back her twenty percent cut. If she could get to this remote ranch, she’d have enough time to figure out what to do next.

  She drew her jacket closer together and folded her arms over her chest as she looked around her. A low rumble echoed in the deserted streets, and she held her breath until the bus turned the corner. She released a sigh with the sound of its airbrakes as it pulled into the garage. The sooner she put some distance between her and this town, the better off she’d be.

  “May I get this for you?” The dark-eyed man stood when she did. Liberty grabbed her duffle and swung it over her shoulder with the practiced ease of a combat soldier. Strength and agility were the rewards of her profession. “Thank you, no. I’ve got it.” She walked head high to the bus, and tossed it into the luggage compartment without the driver’s assistance.

  “One bag, ma’am?” he queried and held out his hand for her ticket and ID She produced the information and waited as he eyed her and then the license. “That was taken six years ago.”

  “Don’t forget to renew before your birthday.” He smiled and handed it back to her. “Welcome aboard. Your first transfer will be in Salt Lake at our six-fifty a.m. stop.”

  She nodded her thanks, climbed onto the bus and searched for a quiet spot to sit where she wouldn’t be disturbed. She moved toward the back, away from the passengers at the front of the bus, and dropped her bag in the seat next to her. The dark-eyed man glanced at her, but ended up taking the seat next to the woman with the heavy perfume. The amorous couple, on the other hand, giggled and pawed at each other as they passed by her to sit at the very back of the bus.

  It could be an interesting next few hours.

  She pulled out her iPod, put in her ear buds and scanned through her music until she found Heart’s Greatest Hits.

  Sometime later, startled awake by an odd sound, she realized one of her ear buds had slipped out. Her cheek felt cool to the touch, from where she’d slept with her face pressed against the window. Disoriented, she blinked, trying to determine how long she’d slept. She glanced at her watch, seeing the late hour and remembered that she was heading to god-knows-where-Montana. She peered down the aisle. Everyone on the bus, except the young couple in the back, were asleep.

  “Aw honey, that’s it,” the male voice hissed quietly. A feminine sigh and a soft groan followed.

  She didn’t need to look back to know anymore. Liberty shook her head. Maybe she was jealous. At least they had each other and despite their lack of propriety, they were clearly in love. Even so, she hoped that they’d get off at the next stop. A quiet male groan caused her to chuckle.

  Or maybe sooner.

  She repositioned the ear bud to stifle the sounds of their lovemaking and checked her phone. There were two missed calls both from Elaina, a friend of hers from work. She quickly punched in a text.

  Are you home, and is everything okay? Has Angelo said anything to you?

  A few moments passed before she received a text in response. He did. But since you refused to say where you were going, it didn’t take long f
or him to give up. I don’t trust him, Libby. If cellphones can be traced, he’ll know who to pay to make it happen.

  ***

  By the time they pulled into Salt Lake, Liberty had deleted all contacts, messages, and calls received. Dropping her phone in an empty coffee cup, she replaced the plastic lid before discarding it in the trash outside the restaurant. She climbed on her transfer bus, glad that the couple, as well as the dark-eyed man who gave her the creeps, stayed on the other bus, bound for points further east.

  She leaned her head against the window and watched the limitless blue sky give way to a dusty twilight. Dozing off and on, she awoke to a black velvet sky sprinkled liberally with stars. There were few times she could count that she’d seen the sky awash with stars. The garish lights of Vegas always blocked them from view. Her eyes drifted shut and the gentle rocking motion of the bus lulled her to sleep.

  Chapter Two

  “Nope. I made it clear, Wyatt. You invited her. She’s your responsibility.”

  “I forgot that Aimee had scheduled dinner tonight with Pastor Tony and his wife. Come on, man. I just need you to go pick her up at the bus depot.”

  “Sorry, I have plans.”

  “Dammit, Dalton. You stubborn son of a….” Wyatt paced the living room, Sadie dutifully at his heels.

  Rein peeped open an eye. He’d laid down in the living room, exhausted and unable to haul himself upright to shower after they had moved all the furniture into the cabin. But he’d listened to this tirade for the better part of fifteen minutes. Enough was enough. “You two sound like bitchy, old women,” he mumbled.

  “Shut up,” they replied in tandem.

  He turned to his side and snuggled with the throw pillow on the couch.

  “Wait. I’m sorry, Rein. Have you got plans for tonight?”

  “You’re looking at them, Wyatt. I’ve busted my butt for the last forty-eight hours trying to get that cabin into shape for your sister.”

  “Half-sister,” Dalton interjected.

  “Dalton, do you intend to be an ass the entire time she’s here?” Wyatt asked. “I actually thought that of the two of you, you would be the more open-minded.”

  “Thanks, Wyatt,” Rein mumbled into the pillow. Had he the energy, he might have smacked his ungrateful brother.

  “Fine, I’ll call Aimee and tell her we have to reschedule.”

  Rein waited a heartbeat for Dalton’s apology. Meantime, he fought the urge to knock Dalton’s head off. “Would it kill you to drive down to Billings?” He looked at Dalton through blurry eyes.

  “I told you. I have plans.” Dalton growled.

  “Jesus. Criminy. Fine, I’ll go.” Rein pushed to his feet, winced and grabbed his lower back. Four-thirty in the afternoon, and he felt like an eighty-five year old man with arthritis.

  “Where the hell is she supposed to be?”

  Wyatt slapped his hand on Rein’s shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver, man. Thanks.”

  “Here’s the number of the bus and there is her cellphone number. She gets in at eleven-fifteen. The bus station’s not in the best part of town, so don’t be late. I don’t want her to sit alone down there.”

  Rein nodded, took the paper, and stuffed it into his pocket.

  “You know, in case you’re interested, I’ve been doing a little research on our mysterious half-sister,” Dalton stated. He moved Jed’s desk and flipped open the laptop.

  “Give it a rest, Dalton,” Wyatt said.

  “Don’t you want to hear what I found out?”

  “No,” Wyatt barked in response.

  “Yes,” Rein countered. “What did you find out?”

  Dalton settled back in the chair and pointed at the screen. “Says here that she attended the University of Nevada, interior design program.”

  “I told you that.” Wyatt folded his arms over his chest.

  “Just verifying, bro.” Dalton glanced over the screen at his brother. “Doesn’t say whether she graduated.”

  “Anything else?” Rein asked.

  Dalton frowned, his dark brows pressed together as he studied the information. “It gives her last known address. It looks like an apartment.” He paused then looked at Wyatt. “Parents, deceased—mother, Eloise.”

  Wyatt spread his arms. “There, are you happy?”

  “Yeah, well there’s something else here that you might find interesting.”

  Wyatt shook his head.

  Rein moved slowly, favoring his back as he walked over and stood behind Dalton.

  “It says her last place of employment was the Kit Kat Club.”

  “Did you search engine it?” Rein nudged him.

  Dalton tossed him a smug grin and hit one of the keys. A slow vampy, bump and grind tune blasted from the site, which left little doubt to the type of entertainment the club offered. If that wasn’t enough, the pictures of voluptuous women with triple-X covering the strategic parts of their bodies cinched any remaining doubt. Rein searched the faces and had a hard enough time trying to determine which of them might be Liberty. He looked up and met Wyatt’s steely gaze. “None of them look young enough to be her.” This unexpected news did little to ease the already mounting tension between Wyatt and Dalton.

  “She said she quit school and had her reasons. We don’t know what circumstances drove her to take a job there,” Wyatt said calmly.

  “And she very well might have been a cocktail waitress or bartender.” Rein jumped on that positive bandwagon, hoping to diffuse the ticking bomb in the room. “Hell, they have tons of female bartenders in Vegas.”

  “Turn it off, Dalton. You’re through with your investigation,” Wyatt warned.

  Rein looked from one man to the other. There were few times that Wyatt took that particular tone with anyone, much less Dalton. He clapped his hands once. “I’m going to go take a shower and grab something to eat. I need to stop by Tyler’s and talk to him about the plumbing in one of the cabins. Then I’ll head down to Billings.” Rein looked at Dalton. “If you want to join me, you are certainly welcome.”

  Dalton dropped the lid to the laptop. “Nope.” He pushed away from the desk. “Since one of us has dinner plans, I guess the other one is in charge of chores.” Grabbing his cap and jacket, he stomped out the door. Rein glanced at Wyatt who stood staring where Dalton had been.

  “I don’t think until this moment, I realized how wrapped tight to the point of selfish I was about my mom and what she did to us.” His gaze met Rein’s. “I think maybe Dalton’s going to have a tougher time letting go of all that he’s been through.” He sighed, clearly concerned over his brother’s welfare. “I appreciate you doing this.”

  “He’ll come around. Give him time. He’s just protecting the only family he’s got.”

  ***

  Rein had to remind himself of that a few short hours later. He checked his watch again—eleven o’clock. He hadn’t ridden a bus, much less heard of many who’d for opted that mode of travel, except maybe charter tours of senior citizens. With the numerous changes and faster means of transportation, the majority of bus stations fell into a state of disrepair, and the one he waited at had to be at the top of that list. As a rule, very little made him uncomfortable. More a lover, than a fighter, he could still hold his own. He scanned the dimly lit station. The flickering of can fires made by vagrants dotted the area outside the stations chain link fence. Though he doubted that would keep them from entering the depot. The place gave him the creeps, not to mention it made him damn curious as to the type of woman who’d choose this form of travel at this hour. She either was extremely naïve or had the balls of a prize bull, with a degree in some type of martial arts added as a plus.

  The sound of the bus brought his head up from the game on his iPhone. He pulled out the number Wyatt gave him and dialed it not once, but twice, and received her voice mail. She sounded a whole lot older than twenty-one. He sat in his truck and watched each person climb off the bus with the idea that when she appeared, he’d instantly recogn
ize her. Only five people departed. One man made a hasty exit to his parked car and another checked something on his phone before he stepped to the street to hail a cab. The rest entered the station, but in the low light, he couldn’t see well. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, pocketed his phone and keys, and hopped from his truck, his eyes peeled as he approached the station.

  Stepping inside, his senses were immediately challenged by the acrid smell of urine, bleach, and the sight of overstuffed trash bins. One person crouched in front of a vending machine awaiting his order, while another man studied a wall map. Unless Liberty wore a man’s disguise, there were no other people in the station.

  He pushed his hat up, stepped outside, grateful for the fresh air though it mingled with a heavy diesel smell. Maybe she hadn’t gotten off the bus yet. “Excuse me.” He walked over and stood at the base of the open bus door. The driver jotted something down on his clipboard. “Has everyone departed from the bus?”

  The man did a quick glance down the aisle and nodded. “No one left onboard. You check the bathrooms inside?”

  “Wyatt?”

  That was definitely the voice from the voicemail. It skirted up his neck like silky fingers and made the tiny hairs stand on end. He turned to face her. “I must have just missed you—” The words halted with his brain. Cold dead. He blinked, afraid he might be too tired, and seeing things. “Are you…Liberty?” He tried not to sound incredulous.