Second and Short

by Michel Prince

  Chapter Nine

  Dalton wanted to fault Willie for leaving, but how could he? Her mother is in the hands of a man she’d personally seen murder more than one person. Why she hadn’t asked for his help he didn’t get, but even with that she tried from the first day to spare his feelings on things. The Reno police were analyzing the second message since it was in the desert, but thanks to traffic noise, they knew it had to be near a highway. That was what he heard before Mr. Cuemark offered Dalton his personal plane. He hadn’t left because of the issue at the stadium.

  “My player’s life is in danger and I feel responsible.” Cuemark stood at the doorway for the suite Dalton had been put up in. “My plane is already fueled, by the time I get you to the airstrip the flight plan will be changed. Can’t tell me you can get there quicker with a commercial flight.”

  “Since when do you take chances with your players?” Dalton questioned since Mr. Cuemark wasn’t known for his generosity toward his employees.

  “Players are replaceable, but not in mass. Over half the offense has threatened to boycott if I don’t help you. You’re still on your own once you step past your security team. You okay being on your own?”

  One thing linemen aren’t used to being is alone. They block in unison, lift as a team, eat as a team. Matty may be his quarterback, but every player to a man that’s been a part of Dalton’s line over the decades, he considered a brother. How could you not? Any man who went through two-a-days at one time or another lifted you up just as you pushed them. You went through the abuse of coaches yelling at you as they compared you to every thing from baby shit to fairy princesses while asking if your tampon needed to be changed. Slipping in mud created by the water you’re forced to drink without a bathroom break. Soon you don’t need one because you’ve sweat through whatever clothing you were wearing even in the dead of winter. Those men were his family, the blood they shared came on the field, but was more than enough to have each back the other. A boycott though, even he didn’t know he meant that much to them.

  When he landed at the small private airstrip in Reno, he was greeted by a handful of Reno PD cars. “Mr. Gresham,” a sergeant greeted him. “We might have a lead. Do you have a current picture of Willeen Fire?”

  Dalton pulled out his phone and found one he’d taken when she was asleep next to him. She hadn’t let him take her picture. He thought she was under the delusion she wasn’t beautiful instead of what it really was. Passing the phone, the officer showed it to a man dressed as a limo driver.

  “That’s her, that’s the woman that mugged me.”

  Dalton’s eyes widened. Sure, Willie had a few inches on the guy, but why would she mug him?

  “We have an address,” the officer said. “We didn’t want to send one patrol car if what we’ve been told about this man was true. We have to figure out how to surround the place without causing him to panic.”

  “It’s the desert.”

  “No, there’s a diner there and all you have to do is go out back and all you see is desert. We assume he’s inside. This man was sent to pick up Ms. Fire, she stole his keys and the address so she could drive herself.”

  “Because she didn’t want him brought into the whole thing,” Dalton reasoned. “Well, let’s go.”

  “You’re not going,” the sergeant stated plainly. “We already have two civilians in danger.”

  “If you don’t take me, I’m grabbing the map over here and taking one of your cars.” Dalton’s jaw ticked. He didn’t come all this way to stand at the airstrip wondering what was happening to Willie. He needed to be there. To be with her. This bullshit wasn’t going to fly.

  “We can bring you close, but we have to keep you outside of the perimeter.”

  Dalton’s rage was hitting a level he didn’t know he had as he crammed into the back of a squad car obviously made for clowns. He wanted to punch something. Anything, but couldn’t. Blowing up in the back of a car wouldn’t help him with life in general. He needed to be smart and calculating. He needed to read the situation like he did a defense. The look in a man’s eye could tell you everything he was trying to hide.

  Pulling up about a half mile from the diner, he saw the squad cars had descended on the small, run down eatery that had been destroyed by the wind and sand of the desert. Buzzards circled prey not far from where they were and he prayed it wasn’t an omen. He’d turned off his phone as they approached, afraid it would ring or distract him in some way. An officer opened the back door and Dalton moved his legs to outside the car and stretched them while he stayed seated. Everything was within his view and he was less likely to take off in a sprint toward the establishment if he had to go from a sitting position.

  “Hector Molina,” a cop with a bullhorn called from behind his opened door. “We need to see Willeen and Violet Fire.”

  A set of hands extended through the doorway. Lightly tanned and male, Dalton shook his head as bile rose in his throat.

  “Come out slowly,” the cop on the bullhorn commanded and the man did. “Keep your hands where we can see them.”

  The man complied. In a suit, he didn’t look the type to be in a run-down diner holding women hostage, but what did Dalton know. This was a world he couldn’t fathom a month ago. Scenes like this were for his nights he binged on gangster flicks and serial killer profiling shows. An officer approached the man and patted him down. Once he was cleared, the man came forward and spoke to the officer in control.

  Dalton watched as the officer walked away from the man and came over to him. “Hector Molina says he wants to talk to Dalton Gresham. He says he’ll wait until we can locate him.”

  “He doesn’t know I’m out here?”

  “Doesn’t seem that way.” The cop looked over his shoulder. “We could get snipers set up. This gives us time.”

  “The last picture I had of Violet Fire had her bound and gagged. What are the chances he’s removed those because he’s such a nice man? Did that guy say how Willie’s doing? If he wants me, I’m going in.”

  “We don’t have a bulletproof vest that fits you.”

  Dalton had to think about that. He always wondered what the point was because the head was still exposed. For him taking out his knee could be just as life ending, but he had read once most people can’t shoot a person in the face. The chest, while just as deadly was less personal. In this case, he doubted Hector Molina cared about being personal. Shooting him in the face was more likely than any other body part.

  “I’m not going to leave her in there a moment longer.” Dalton stood up and began walking toward the diner.

  “Stop.” The cop clutched Dalton’s forearm, but he shook it off. “Don’t do this, we can find another way.”

  Stalking his way up to the front door, he heard people yelling to let him go and knew inside he was making a decision he couldn’t go back from. Every instinct in him said this was the only way. His woman was being held against her will, no matter how this monster tried to appease himself there was no reason for what he was doing. If she hadn’t gone to the police yet, why would she? What motivation did he have to keep her trapped against her will? Wanting to be with Willie was the only commonality the two men had, but she didn’t want Hector. Of that, Dalton was sure. Yanking the door open, he walked in on a sight he may never get over.

  Trying to reconcile the scene before him he attempted to read the situation, but couldn’t make sense of it all. Burning fire raged its way up his throat as he swallowed back a rock that felt lodged in his throat. With her mother still bound and gagged in a booth, Willie stood in a white dress, holding a bouquet of flowers. Hector was leaning against the countertop in a suit with a Glock resting comfortably in his hands.

  “Good, you made it,” he said as he pushed up. “We’re trying to get this finished before the police come in here and try to question my wife about things she does not remember. Would you mind standing in as best man?”

  “There are a few other men that might be more suited for the job
,” Dalton said as Willie held her breath.

  Her heart ached as the gown caused her skin to burn. She wasn’t allergic to the fabric, but the idea she was in a wedding dress across from Hector made her sick to her stomach. Before Dalton walked in she was able to bear the nausea, but to have him see her dressed this way made her want to rip the gown from her body. Anything to stop the idea that she wanted to marry Hector. Dalton couldn’t believe this is how she wanted to be married. That this was not what she wanted. Even the preacher Hector procured stood with a trail of blood going down his forehead from being pistol whipped when he tried to say he wouldn’t perform the ceremony.

  “That is true, I have known these men longer, but it would mean more to me if you would stand beside me as I take my vows. Willeen and I have had our challenges, but we always come back together in the end.” Hector reached and with a jerk to her arm pulled her flush against him. “We look like the happy couple on the top of a wedding cake.”

  Hector let go of her and brought his hands to the side of his head. The hand with the gun he banged against the side of his head as he let out a yell.

  “I didn’t get you a cake.”

  “It’s okay, you always say I don’t need to eat so much,” she assured him by placing her hands on either side of his face. “We don’t need a cake to be happy. And this isn’t our reception. This is our wedding.”

  “Let me make a call,” he said. Setting down the gun, he pulled out his phone. “I need a party room booked for tonight...I don’t care who has that one, they are out…I’m getting married and my wife wants a reception. Put a cake together, six layers at least. We will be having around five hundred people.”

  Hector was raging again and Willie wanted to go for his gun, but knew better. His hand was resting on the countertop with the gun in front of him. What was she supposed to do, snuggle up against his back? Even if she got it, there were three guns ready to be unloaded in the hands of the other men.

  Now she had more than her mother to worry about. Why did Dalton have to follow her? Hector knew he would. She ran her hands over her mother’s face. “Can we take the gag out now? She needs water. It’s been hours.”

  Hector spun around grabbing his gun as he did. “We haven’t gotten to the part where he asks if anyone objects.” Stepping toward her mother, he placed the barrel in the center of her forehead and ran it down her face, stopping at her lips. Willie saw Dalton’s fists clench, but he held his ground. “Do you approve of this union yet, Mrs. Fire? Do you think I’m good enough for your daughter?” Spinning back toward Dalton, he held the gun on him and Dalton threw his arms up in surrender. “I can buy and sell this man a thousand times over. Or do you think he is better?”

  Her mother bowed her head.

  “Is that it?” Hector turned back to her mother. “Your daughter has played with my emotions for years. Years! Running from me as if she had anything to fear.”

  Fisting Willie’s hair in his hand, she cried out in pain as he pulled her back and made sure she was focused on only him. “Please Hector, lets get on with the ceremony,” she pleaded at what could only be described as razor blades cut into the back of her skull as he yanked harder. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

  “He won’t be my witness,” Hector said. “Nobody says no when I ask a favor.”

  “Dalton doesn’t like owing people. It’s nothing personal. He’s the one who paid for my ticket here to be with you,” she lied. “He told me he knew we were supposed to be together and nothing he did could change my mind.”

  “He did?” Hector’s eyes widened and he released his hold on her. When he turned, Dalton barreled into him until he smashed against the back wall. The gun flew and Willie pulled her mother’s gag down as she crouched by her side.

  Craning her neck, she saw Dalton lifting Hector by his waistband and shirt, swinging him around as if the man weighed nothing as he put him between the bodyguards holding guns and himself. Her would be groom gasped for air as Dalton used him for a human shield. With his hands flailing, he might as well be a puppet with all the good it did as Dalton raged on. Tossing him at the three men, their guns dropped and Willie took that as her cue to gather as many as she could. Only two had gone on the other side of the counter where she was, but she found them as she pressed herself against the wall.

  “Willie,” her mother cried as she tried to undo the duct tape from her hands with her teeth. White marks were burnt into her normally smooth chocolate complexion.

  Crossing back over to her, she searched for the beginning of the tape. The preacher helped her undo the binding enough that she saw the skin was torn in some places on the top of the wrists. Blood dripped from the cuts made by the tape and Willie pulled off petals from her bouquet to press against the blood to help it clot.

  “Let’s go,” the preacher said. “We can get out now.”

  Men were grunting and howling in pain behind the counter. Crashing noises mixed with the sound of wood breaking had her wanting to make sure Dalton wasn’t being hurt. Then again, she wasn’t sure she would survive if around the corner she found Hector and his men killing him.

  “Take my mother,” Willie said as she wrapped her hands around the handle of one of the guns. When she did the math, there was no way Dalton could not be the one being pummeled behind the counter and if she had to kill all three men she’d bear that cost.

  “You need to come too,” he insisted.

  “Send the police in, but let them know I was only trying to protect Dalton.”

  The preacher took off with her mother. Behind the counter, the rhythm of the punches had slowed. Lifting the gun, she tried to steady herself as she rounded the counter to see Dalton with his hands above his head ready to smash down like he was the Hulk.

  “No Dalton,” she cried as she saw the unconscious bodies trapped in the small galley, one on top of the other. Dalton’s fists were covered with cuts and blood. Above his left eye, a trail of blood covered his lashes from a gash along his eyebrow. The Blood Thirsty Bear of the Gridiron was before her. The monster he warned her about, the one she’d seen in Hector and had been petrified of.

  Hector’s face was swollen, but she could see his eyes open and mouth smiling from her words. Spitting blood, he laughed. “She loves me.”

  She shook more at the transformation from the gentle man who held her in his arms. The one who would kill an entire hive for one bee’s wrong doing, but never bat an eye if he was wrong.

  “Dalton, don’t do it. He’s not worth your life. You can still have your life, Dalton. The one we both want.”

  She could see him processing her words. He heard her. Just like when he went after that lineman and the only person who could stop him was Rome. She was the voice of reason he understood. Taming the man everyone one said could not be tamed.

  Dalton held his hands out in front of him. His knuckles already purpling under the blood that coated them. Blood coated his hands. He’d been lost in the assault of Hector, unable to control his rage.

  “Dalton, don’t do it.” Willie’s voice cut through the haze right before he swung down with what could only be a finishing blow. “He’s not worth your life. You can still have your life, Dalton. The one we both want.”

  Police stormed through the front door and he rocked back on his knees. No longer straddling Hector, he felt his whole body go lax. The adrenaline rush crashed through his muscles as he closed his focus on the officers while they handcuffed the men. Paramedics were the next to follow, caring for the injured men.

  “Hey, you’re Dalton Gresham, right?” a man in an EMT uniform asked and Dalton raised his hands.

  “I think I broke them,” he said trying to register the level of pain and relate it to other injuries.

  “Okay, well I’m Tony and I’m going to be helping you out today. I’m not sure you’ll fit on my gurney very well. Can you walk?”

  Walk? He saw Willie’s drawn face as she was walked out of the diner. She’d seen the beast. The one he tri
ed to hide all these years. He didn’t even know it actually existed, but it must have because it had taken him over.

  “I don’t have a blood pressure cuff big enough for you, Dalton. Can I call you Dalton?” Tony asked then motioned to another EMT. “We need a blanket for him. He’s in shock.”

  Shock? Walk? He couldn’t understand the words this man kept saying. It wasn’t like it mattered. He slumped to the floor and both paramedics flanked him.

  “Alright big guy, we need to get you to the hospital,” Tony said. “I need a few more guys.”

  “I’m good,” Dalton said.

  “You are, huh?” Tony asked. “Can you stand for me? Do we know if he hit his head? I see a cut, but we need to find out from the hostages if he might have a concussion.”

  “I don’t have a concussion,” Dalton fought as his heart rate slowed down and his vision sharpened enough he could see what Tony finally looked like. A snub-nosed man who lifted weights more than Dalton did was broad, but short. Or at least short for Dalton’s crowd. “Willie?”

  “The bride?” Tony asked. “She’s being treated for shock in my partner’s ambulance.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “The cops say no. They want stories from each of you without any chance of collusion.”

  Dalton looked out the dust covered window and saw her sitting on the back of an ambulance with her mother beside her. Her white wedding dress had red stains on the side. She lifted her head as if she could feel him watching her. The same stone face her mother had stared back at him. Everything. He’d lost everything in his attempt to save the first woman he ever loved.

  An hour later, he sat on a hospital gurney as an intern got to put in stitches over his eye.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to call plastics in? They might come for someone like you?” she asked as she held the hooked shaped needle.