You've Got Tail

by Renee George

  Because it wasn’t. I’d deal with it.

  Dialing Babel’s number wasn’t an accident. Billy Bob and Babel were next to each other in my address book. I didn’t hang up when his phone started ringing. If he answered, at least he could get help. Even if he was angry about me sending him away, he wouldn’t turn his back on Jo Jo. “Please answer,” I begged softly.

  I heard a faint “hello.” Shoot, I needed to put him on speaker.

  “Hold on!” I hollered. “Don’t hang up!”

  “Sunny?” I heard him say clearer as the speaker engaged. “Why do you sound funny?”

  “’Cause I’m in the middle of freaking nowhere! Jo Jo’s hurt really bad. He’s knocked out and bleeding a lot.” Panic mounted inside me and I forced it down. “Help me.”

  “Where are you?” He sounded as anxious as I was feeling.

  “I don’t know. I swear all these country roads look alike. Why can’t you all use freakin’ signs like normal people?”

  “It’s all right. Tell me where you were going?” He didn’t even yell at me over the “normal people” comment. I was glad one of us was calm.

  “I…We were going back to town. Coming back from Jo Jo’s house.”

  “Okay. I know what road you’re on. I’ll find you. I’ll be there soon. Just hang on.”

  He hung up and my arm went limp at my side. The cell phone slipped out of my hand and the screen cracked and went black when it hit the rocky ground.

  “Nooo,” I shouted to the tree frogs and crickets. Breathe, Sunny, Breathe. I picked the broken phone up and put it in my pocket. Babel was coming. He’d save Jo Jo. I ran back to the truck. I had to get back to the boy. I had to make sure he still needed saving.

  I hauled ass as fast as my legs would work. My bra was soaked with sweat by the time I made it back to the wreckage. Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead, I pleaded silently to animal ancestors, God, and all the earth deities I’d grown up with in my parents’ community. I hoped if any of them existed, at least one would hear me. Of course, they might be pissed about me not completely holding to my earlier bargain.

  Jo Jo looked so pale and listless when I reached him. My hand shook as I touched his neck, trying to find a pulse. He still had one.

  “Thank you,” I mouthed to whoever had been listening. I heard the roar of a car coming down the road in the distance.

  “Help is on the way,” I told Jo Jo. “Stay with me, buddy.” At least I hoped it was help and not the SUV back for another swipe at us. The more I thought about it, the more I thought it had run us off the road on purpose. Relief washed through me when I saw it was Babel’s car, broken windshield and all. I got out of the cab of Jo Jo’s pickup to meet him.

  Ho-boy, he looked pissed as he stalked toward me. My hero.

  “Why didn’t you call me to go with you to the Cormans?” he began his rant. “I live a damn mile from here.” His nostrils flared. Why did have to be even sexier when he was angry? Gah!

  When I came back to my senses, Babel was still ranting. “After the way Brady came after you yesterday, are you out of your mind going out there alone?” He stopped for a moment, sniffed the air, then made a sharp chuffing noise. “And where’s your shirt?”

  Great. He caught my horny hormones on the wind. “How am I supposed to know that you live a mile from here, huh? I’m in the middle of the boonies with an injured teenager, and you’re pissed because I didn’t call you to babysit us?” I glared at him. “As to my shirt, do you think I was making out with a seventeen-year-old? Seriously?” First Brady, now Babel. What the hell did that say about popular opinion?

  Babel raised an eyebrow. In response, I picked up a walnut-sized rock and chucked it at him.

  He rubbed his chest where the projectile hit. “Ow.”

  “My shirt’s keeping Jo Jo from bleeding all over the damned place, you idiot.” Why had I called Babel? I could have called Billy Bob instead, and hell, it probably would have been the best thing for Jo Jo, but instead, I’d wasted my phone call on one moody coyote intent on punishing me with word, if not deed.

  He went around the driver’s side of the truck and checked on Jo Jo. “He’s still breathing and his pulse is strong.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Trimmel,” I grumbled, though I really was glad Babel had checked on Jo Jo. It made me feel like he wasn’t a complete shit-head.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t call me.”

  I snorted. This conversation was disintegrating into absurdity. “This is so much bullshit.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said bullshit.”

  He growled at me.

  I dug my broken phone out of my pocket and threw it him. “Don’t you growl at me! You might have a bigger bark, but I have a bigger bite.” Not really, but I was really pissed at him for acting like he owned me.

  He’d dodged the crippled device easily, strode forward, and closed the gap between us faster than I could react. His arms swept around me. He crushed me to his chest. “Goddamn,” he murmured. “Damn.”

  “Babel.” I craned my neck, no small pain there, to look up at him. His eyes were wild, but not animal-wild like before. He looked so handsome, in a tortured, One-Flew-Over-the-Cuckoo’s-Nest way. In a moment of weakness, I allowed myself to sink into him, taking all the reassurance he gave. His chest felt warm against my cheek and I could hear his heart thudding beneath my ear.

  He stroked my hair. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “I’m not alone. You’re here.”

  “Not what I’m talking about. I’m worried. You shouldn’t be living alone. You need someone around. Someone who can take care of you.”

  Oh, no, he didn’t. Moment of comfort over. It didn’t matter to me that he might be right…“I’m a big girl, Babel. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Sunny, don’t be like that. I only meant—”

  “I know exactly what you meant. I’m not the helpless heroine in some bad B movie who needs to be rescued every five minutes.” Okay, my track record hadn’t been great this past week, but usually I’m very capable.

  “It’s not that you’re a woman, Sunny.” His arms dropped to his side. “You’re human.”

  The way he said it was like a punch in the gut. He’d said it like me being “human” was insurmountable. I was fragile cargo. Easily damaged. “You’re just figuring that out, Einstein?” I snapped. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Lucky for Babel, the doc pulled up before I really went off on his stupid, albeit sexy ass.

  Billy Bob examined Jo Jo, then looked at my bloody, bandaged hand. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  I shook my head. “Most of the blood is from Jo Jo. Is he going to be okay?”

  Babel tried to put his arms around me and I moved away from him. I didn’t need or want his macho support. Not now. Billy Bob got a little white thingy from his bag and snapped it in front of Jo Jo’s face. The young man jerked awake.

  “Whoa, now,” Billy Bob said. “Just some ammonia to wake you up.”

  “That stinks really bad,” Jo Jo murmured.

  “That’s the whole point.” Billy Bob smiled.

  I was just happy the boy was awake. “A good sign, right?”

  “Sunny…” Jo Jo said.

  “I’m here. I’m fine.”

  “Stupid, goddamn truck.”

  Well, at least his memory was good. “Yeah.”

  “What truck?” Babel asked.

  “The one that decided playing chicken on a June afternoon would be an ideal form of entertainment.” I’d show them a whole new form of entertainment to rival the Spanish Inquisition if I ever saw them again. Vise grip to the balls sounded like appropriate punishment. Actually, I might have to get more creative, squeezing their nuts until they cried “mommy” just wasn’t satisfying enough.

  Billy Bob put a neck brace on Jo Jo and gestured to Babel. “Help me get him to my car. I need to get him back to the house to stitch his he
ad.”

  They positioned the passenger seat down to fully recline and carried Jo Jo over, gently placing him inside. I went around the other door to get in the backseat.

  “I’ll take you home, Sunny,” Babel said.

  “No, I don’t want to leave Jo Jo alone.”

  The anger rolling off Babel was palpable, but now that the cavalry had arrived, I felt the full weight of the situation bearing down on me. Where was the Xanax when you needed it? Back at the doc’s place, if I had to guess.

  Billy Bob spoke up before Babel could protest. “You go with Babe. You can come check on Jo Jo later. But don’t forget to head to the station and fill out a police report so they can try and find the person who did this to you both.”

  Sooo reasonable. Yeah. “Fine. Okay.” I guess it was back to the police station for me. The place was starting to feel like hell sweet hell.

  Chapter 16

  I felt a little guilty about the deputy who was supposed to watch me. Sheriff Taylor reamed him up one side and down the other with threats like, “The next time I give you a job to do and you don’t, my foot’s going to be so far up your ass you’ll be spitting shoe polish for a month.”

  The man was a true poet.

  I’d tried to speak up on the deputy’s behalf a couple of times, but Babel would give me the look. You know, the one that says, “unless you want your ass in a sling as well, you’ll keep out of it.” The tirade lasted a little over half past uncomfortable and bordered on mortifying.

  “Sheriff, am I a prisoner?”

  He stopped berating the deputy and ogled me. “No, ma’am.”

  “Am I a hostage?”

  “No.”

  “Then why don’t you give the nice deputy a break? I told him where I’d be, and while he insisted I should stay in town, as a free woman, I made my own choice.”

  The sheriff gave me a hard look. “Deputy Connelly, we’ll talk more about this later.”

  Tyler Thompson walked over with a sheet of paper in hand. “No one in the town with a Suburban, dark or otherwise, Sheriff.”

  “Damn it.” He shook his head and rubbed the dark circles under his eyes. “County?”

  “There are nine registered in the county, but none that we can pinpoint as being the vehicle in question.”

  Sheriff Taylor’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Anyone else know you all were going out to the Corman place?”

  “Other than the deputy? No. Yes, Neville Lutjen was there when Jo Jo asked me to go. But—”

  The sheriff picked up the phone off a nearby desk and punched in some numbers. “Yeah, Fran. Is Neville available? No. He’s been in a meeting all afternoon? You sure he didn’t go out for anything during? Okay. No, it’s nothing. He doesn’t need to call me back.”

  “You don’t really think the mayor tried to run us off the road, do you?”

  “Nope, not really. Just better to rule out who we can.” Snapping his fingers, the sheriff got Deputy Connelly’s attention. “Did you tell anyone where Ms. Haddock was going?”

  “Uh, I called into the station about it, but that’s it. Honest, boss.”

  If Connelly had called in, did that mean Tyler Thompson had known I’d be out there? Would he have really come after me like that and risk injuring or potentially killing Jo Jo in the process of trying to take me out? I watched the deputy carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. Nothing. I could read nothing on him. Except that he still didn’t like me for whatever reason.

  The sheriff fidgeted a pencil between his fingers. “It would have been nice if you’d gotten the license plate number.”

  “Well, between all the crapping myself, the ducking and the screaming…” I didn’t want to be at the police station anymore.

  “I think Sunny’s had enough for the day, Sid,” Babel said, echoing my thoughts.

  Personally, I’d had enough to last me the whole year. Hell, my whole life.

  The sheriff nodded, suddenly looking more tired than I’d seen him. “All right. I just have a few forms for you to sign and you all can go.”

  I became aware of Babel staring at me as I dotted my I’s and crossed my T’s. The heat he poured into his gaze made me squirm.

  I knew I looked a mess between my baboon-like cheeks, the oversized dirty T-shirt Babel had had balled up in the floorboard of his truck (better than showing up in my bra, and bonus, it smelled like Babel), and my matted hair from sweat and dirt road.

  He didn’t care.

  The expression on his face was that of a man on fire. He’d gobble me up like homemade pumpkin pie, even as beat up and broke down as I appeared. My earlier anger at him vanished.

  I handed the sheriff back his pen and looked sideways at Babel. “I’m ready.” But for what, I wasn’t sure. The tension in the car was thick and pressing. I could feel the weight of lust between us without even touching him. When we pulled up in front of the restaurant, Babel and I were fairly running for the door. He took the keys from my shaking hands and got us inside faster than I could have.

  The next thing I knew, I was up against the wall, the heat of his body pressing against mine. His kiss was urgent, which I normally would have totally dug, but my jaw.

  “Aww,” I said. “Pain, pain.”

  “Sorry,” he grinned. “Goddamn, but I want you, woman.”

  His caveman attitude, which would have ticked me off earlier, fueled my desire.

  I jumped around his waist, and he pushed me against the wall again, knocking my shoulder. I groaned again. “Oh, seat belt bruise, damn it.”

  Gently, he carried me across the room and set my ass on the diner counter. I threw my other arm back, and got another aching jolt for my trouble. “Son of a bitch.”

  Babel narrowed his eyes. “More pain?”

  “Sorry,” I said in a small voice, fighting the grimace. “Coyote attack.”

  He stepped back and my heart dropped. Was he giving up? Was he right to?

  Babel leaned forward and kissed my neck. “Does it hurt here?”

  “No,” I said, feeling giddier than I was comfortable with.

  He kissed my ear. “How about here?”

  “Nope.” Oh, man, we were having a total Raiders-of-the-Lost-Ark moment and I was Indiana Jones! I squeezed his thighs between mine when his hand slid down between my legs. “How about here?”

  Ho-boy. “No, doesn’t hurt one bit.”

  He scooped me off the counter, and carried me like a bride over the threshold.

  “Where we going?” I asked, kissing the crease between his neck and earlobe. Oh, man, he smelled good enough to eat.

  Babel made a rumbling noise that sent twitters down my stomach. “I’m going to take you upstairs and make love to all your parts that don’t hurt, Sunshine Haddock. Is that good by you?”

  Instead of saying “yes!” I asked the question, the one that would take us out of the moment. But I had to know. “What are we doing here?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m trying to get into your pants.”

  Okay, so he went for literal. Not what I was asking. I put my hand on his shoulder. I had to know that this was real, because I didn’t think I could do the “bang and bye” with Babel. Not now. If we did this, if we made love, my heart would be lost to him forever. There would be no turning back. At least not for me. And, Lord, I didn’t even want to think about how I would explain it to Chav when we found her. A pang tweaked my gut. Chav, where are you?

  His fingers danced along my ribs. “Earth to Sunny.”

  I couldn’t be with him if it didn’t mean more than just a fun way to kill time. “Is that it? Just in my pants and out of here?”

  He grinned. “Well, there’s several other things I’d like to do before the ‘out of here’ part.” He brushed his hair back. The smile fading. “What answer are you looking for?”

  What a romantic. “I don’t know. I just…” What answer did I want? Did I want an undying declaration of devo
tion and love? Bad Sunny, I thought, reminding myself that Peculiar was only a temporary stop for Babel Trimmel on the road to bigger and better things. I couldn’t let myself get sucked back into a relationship doomed for failure. Allowing myself to really care about Babel was a sucker’s bet. The girl in me wanted to let it ride, while the woman in me knew better.

  I sighed.

  Babel’s smoky-blue gaze, along with his smile, nearly broke my will. He dipped his chin and kissed my cheek. “What?”

  Ugh. I’d heard that tone before. It said, what are you going to say or do now to ruin this beautiful, happy moment?

  Immediately, I was annoyed. “Nothing.”

  I’d played this game too often. I tell the guy what’s wrong and he uses it as an excuse to pummel me verbally and make me feel like the bad guy. I wasn’t biting.

  He stroked my leg. “Come on, something’s wrong. Tell me.”

  Ah, lulling tactics. Where the male of the species lures the female to his trap by baiting her with soothing and innocuous words of rationality.

  Uh-uh. “Really. It’s nothing.”

  “I can tell something’s wrong.” The temperature of the conversation dropped ten degrees. Here was the “if you don’t want to have a confrontation, I’ll just force it out of you” bit.

  “Babel, it’s all good,” I fairly cooed, giving him the warmest smile I could manage. I curved my index fingers into two of his belt loops and tugged. “Come here.”

  He smiled then, the situation diffused. Whoever said the best offense was a good defense lied. The best offense was a good deflection. “Hey, I want to go out to Billy Bob’s in the morning. Can you drive me?” I asked, stroking his soft hair.

  Babel stiffened.

  Situation back on.

  “Why?”

  “To check on Jo Jo, of course.”

  “I don’t like the way Doc Smith looks at you.”

  Ohh-kay. The territorial thing again. Did he really believe I wanted to go out there just to ogle the fantastically beautiful Shaman-doc? Crazy, right? “I can’t help how he or anyone looks at me.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like the way you look at him.”