Every Little Piece of Him

Home > Other > Every Little Piece of Him > Page 12
Every Little Piece of Him Page 12

by Debra Kayn


  "Let's get them," said Mark. "I won't survive another shot."

  "I'm in." Will looked at Quint. "You?"

  "I want this over, so yeah, let's get them," said Quint.

  Two-crow nodded. "I say we sleep on this decision and tomorrow, we'll figure out how to go forward with a plan."

  Anders shut off the security camera screen and opened the door, seeing them down the stairs. He returned to the living room to find Iliana standing at the back door watching her relatives leave. Staying back, he wiped his hand down his face and grimaced against the pain in his arm.

  If he survived, he looked forward to a future with Iliana.

  Chapter 22

  The speed and rhythmic pace Iliana set for herself on the treadmill in Anders' guest bedroom soothed her. She stuck the earbuds in her ears and started her playlist she'd made yesterday while perusing new songs to add to her shows. Anders new exercise equipment that was delivered yesterday was a nice surprise.

  Setting her phone in the cupholder, she stared out the window and let herself listen to the music. The angsty melody from Shinedown's song The Crow and the Butterfly had her singing along.

  Time alone let her sing for pleasure rather than performing for others. If Anders heard her practicing, he'd probably wonder why he'd hired her because she loved to overemphasize notes and put her own swing on the tunes in private. But, he was in the shower and had mentioned going downstairs when he finished.

  Just in case, she'd closed the bedroom door.

  Into the third song, she pushed past the initial fatigue and found the sweet spot of running. The motor of the treadmill seemed to grow louder. Through the window, she watched an older couple outside walking a dog near the cabin. Her thoughts wandered from music to Anders.

  He'd had the foresight to see that the unincorporated area, so close to the Idaho border and within an hour and a half of Missoula, served a purpose in the Bitterroot Mountains to travelers and locals. Stone Lair had a steady stream of people who only stopped while making their way through the area.

  The ten percent that were local to the area mainly worked for Anders in one capacity or another.

  He'd built quite the empire.

  She slowed the speed on the treadmill, needing to cool off and catch her breath. Running on a belt in one place was different than being outside and gaining distance. She preferred being on a back road but understood that Anders worried about her safety.

  Coming from Missoula, she hadn't thought of the dangers in the rural setting. Not only four-legged creatures but two-legged as well could take advantage of her being surrounded only by trees and wilderness area.

  She grabbed the rails of the treadmill and jumped, landing with her feet on the stationary running boards, shutting off the machine. Stepping off on shaky legs, an incoming phone call shut off her music. She answered, leaving her earbuds in.

  "Ms. Iliana?" said a male voice.

  "Yes, this is Iliana."

  "This is Detective Eli Blant with the Montana State Police department. I wanted to call and update you on the arson case involving your motorhome."

  "Oh, okay." She fanned her overheated face.

  "Unfortunately, we haven't made any headway in your case after six months. At this stage, we won't be actively searching for an arrest, but we will investigate any tips or information that comes in."

  "That's disappointing." She sighed. "I was hoping the man responsible would pay for what he'd done."

  "That was our wish, too."

  "Well, thanks for letting me know." She bent her leg and caught her ankle, stretching her muscles.

  "Goodbye."

  She disconnected the call and took the earbuds out of her ears. Frustration over the lack of an arrest in the arson case, she blamed the man who blew up her motorhome for the breakup of her band. A firm believer in karma, she hoped the arsonist paid for the crime, one way or another.

  Opening the door, she walked out of the room and headed to the bedroom she shared with Anders to take a shower and came to a stop hearing his voice in the master bathroom.

  Realizing he was on the phone, she went to the dresser and picked out her clothes for the day.

  "I'll be there as soon as I get Iliana settled," said Anders.

  She straightened at the mention of her name. If he had to work, she was quite capable of entertaining herself.

  "No, getting shot on the mountain was too close." Anders paused. "Yeah, I know where. I'll be there as soon as I can."

  Her pulse roared in her ears. He was shot?

  How could that happen? He was using the chainsaw.

  Anders walked out of the bathroom and raised his gaze. "Hey."

  She looked at his bare upper body finding the angry red scar that remained where the stitches had come out only two days ago. Not knowing what a gunshot wound looked like, she stared trying to remember if he'd ever explained exactly how he got hurt.

  She'd assumed a tree branch cut him or the chain on the saw nicked his arm. He hadn't given her anything to make her think otherwise.

  She met his eyes and staring back at her, she saw the truth. "You were shot?"

  Her heart pounded, and she barely got the question in front of her before her legs shook, threatening to fail her.

  "Il..." He stepped toward her.

  She held up her hand, stopping him from touching her. "Just tell me the truth."

  His mouth hardened. She sucked in a breath as tears invaded her vision. The lack of talking to her about important stuff is what upset her before.

  Anders stepped over and grabbed his shirt off the hanger and slipped his arms into the material, covering the evidence he'd tried to hide from her. She had a right to know what was going on. They were lovers and living together.

  Shocked, she pressed her lips together. If he'd been shot, that meant someone was out to hurt him or worse, kill him.

  Anders buttoned his shirt. She half turned away from him, needing to get control of her emotions. Learning the truth left her floating in a dream-like state.

  He'd been shot but had been with her the whole time. How could she not have known? Why hadn't she heard any gunfire? Why wouldn't he go to the police?

  "I'm going downstairs." He approached her, cupped her neck, and kissed her forehead. "We'll talk later."

  For a few seconds, he studied her without another word. Whether he waited for her to comment or argue, his delay only made her pulse pound erratically in her ears.

  Then, he squared his shoulders, and left the room.

  She let him walk out of the room without saying a word. Caught between wanting to believe in him and remembering his side of the phone conversation, she wondered who he was talking to and why he trusted the other person with what happened and not her?

  Chapter 23

  Nothing happened on the long road up the mountain. Nothing happened when Anders stepped out of the Hummer at the top. Nothing happened when Two-crow, Mark, Will, and Quint joined him in front of the erected cross.

  For years, he'd come up to the peak since they'd put Joney's monument up. A place of beauty, peacefulness, and honor.

  Joney had been the youngest and smallest out of all of them. While his body had no resting place, the memory of Joney was bigger than all of them. While he never made it long enough to escape with them, he deserved a home in the Bitterroot Mountains.

  "We're open targets," muttered Mark.

  "That's the point of coming up here." Anders slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "They know I come here. They've tried to kill me here."

  "It's important that we stay aware and armed." Will walked to the edge and peered down. "If nothing happens today, we'll go to where Mark was shot. We make ourselves targets, and we do it together. We need to finish this and take them out."

  "Agreed," said Anders.

  The knowledge of Iliana back at the Lair knowing that his injury came from a gunshot foremost on his mind, he had to continually keep himself in check on what they were doing.
He'd fucked up, taking the call thinking she was in the other room with the door closed and her music playing loud enough he had privacy to talk with Two-crow. If he'd known she had come into the master bedroom, he would've waited until he was downstairs before taking the call.

  "Iliana overheard my conversation on the phone before I left. She knows my wound was caused by a gunshot." He gritted his teeth. "I left without talking with her, but I owe her an explanation."

  "Hell, no. That would bring another person into the hell we live. We trust no one and keep the secrets between us." Two-crow stoic face never changed in judgment. "The risks of someone connecting the dots from everything that has happened over the years will get higher. Iliana is not someone from the outside looking in. She's in because of you."

  He never planned to let Iliana in his life but when she'd left he'd become a different person. The last time he connected with another person, he was living in a concrete shed relying on the men standing with him on the mountain. There was never any doubt they understood and supported him, no matter what happened.

  What they'd gone through nobody else would understand.

  He couldn't say the same about Iliana. Knowing she could walk away and tell the police if he told her the truth would destroy not only him but everyone. The only way they could all continue on with their lives without going to prison would be if the truth never left their circle.

  "I'll fix this," he said.

  Quint zipped up his coat. "It doesn't look like anything is going to happen today. I don't hear any trucks or ATVs trying to make the climb up the mountain. They obviously aren't following us. We'll meet again at Will's tomorrow and head down the river. Ten o'clock?"

  The plan was to stick together and make it easy for their enemies to find them. His motivation to bury his past was Iliana. He wanted her safe and comfortable living with him.

  He walked to the Hummer, leading the others down the mountain. Coming up on the spot where he'd gotten shot, his arm ached. He'd been set up. Whoever shot him had watched him with Iliana.

  The thought sickened him.

  He'd had his head wrapped around Iliana and not paying attention. When he'd rode up on the roadblock, he'd taken the situation in and believed it was a natural occurrence.

  Trees fell all the time in bad weather. He lived in the fucking mountains and came upon downed trees and branches all the time. But, he should've known. And, because he'd missed the signs, he'd put Iliana at risk.

  Off the mountain at the main county road junction, the others went their separate ways. Anders continued the two miles to the Lair.

  He parked behind the building in the reserved spot at the bottom of the stairs to his private quarters. Stepping out of the vehicle, he tried to leave the frustration of another day going by without his enemies showing themselves.

  A dog barked. His toe snagged on the step, and he caught himself on the rail with his hurt arm. He looked over his shoulder, searching for the animal.

  Another bark sent panic through him. He took the steps two at a time until he reached the top. Grabbing the door handle, he searched the area from higher up and found a small dog tied to the railing of the porch on Cabin One.

  He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and texted Mac to remove the customers from the cabin and return their money. He wouldn't allow anyone to go against the rules he'd put in the agreement each customer signed before staying at Stone Lair.

  If they thought the legal agreement was unfair, they were free to mosey on down the road and stay somewhere else.

  Unlocking the door, he walked into the upstairs and looked around for Iliana. Not finding her in the living room or kitchen, he went to the bedroom.

  "Il?" He peeked into the bathroom and went out and looked into the guest bedroom.

  He called Mac. "Where is she?"

  "She's in front of me. About fifteen minutes ago, she came downstairs asking me where you went, and a group of people having lunch recognized her. She's visiting with them now," said Mac.

  "Watch her. I'm coming down." He disconnected the call.

  She understood when he was away from the Lair, he preferred her to stay upstairs. Mac was at her disposal. She could've called him if she had any questions or wanted to eat.

  At the stairs, he remembered the pistol pressed against his back in plain sight. Taking the weapon out, he slid it into the holster at his ankle.

  Montana had an open-carry law. It wasn't unusual to see customers and guests with a pistol holstered at their hip. Because of that, he made sure his security team for the Lair carried not only for their own protection but to protect others if fights and arguments downstairs became heated.

  Luckily, Iliana understood or at least was familiar with seeing a pistol because she never questioned his need to carry one. Until today when she got upset that someone shot him.

  He tucked his jeans down, hiding the gun, and went downstairs. Mac approached him as he let the door click softly. Anders spotted Iliana at the table, a crowd gathered around her.

  She talked to the man beside her, taking an interest when it was his turn to speak. Anders walked stiffly around the tables. There was no reason to come down early before she was scheduled to sing. There was no responsibility for her to visit with her fans.

  He strode forward, slipped his hand under her arm, and hauled her to her feet. "Excuse us."

  Taking her away from the table, he walked to the door and led her upstairs.

  Grateful she remained quiet because he couldn't speak at the moment. He hated the ease at which she talked to the customers. He despised how she smiled freely with them when the last time he looked into her eyes, he recognized fear.

  He shut the door, closing them off from everyone downstairs. Staring at her, he wanted to assure her that he was here. That he was the same man that she'd fallen in love with. That none of the bullshit outside these four walls had anything to do with her.

  She folded her arms under her breasts. "I don't appreciate you being rude and disrespecting me in front of people who enjoy my singing."

  His intent wasn't to embarrass her in front of other people. He never took her away because she was doing anything wrong.

  He was scared.

  The threats. The dog. The fear of losing her.

  He inhaled deeply and walked over to the window, overlooking the back of the Lair. His heart beat wildly. He hadn't felt such panic since he'd beat a man to death with his fists and then found Joney dead in the very condition they all feared.

  Chapter 24

  Staring out the window from the second story of Stone Lair, Anders shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry."

  Iliana exhaled loudly. That wasn't what she'd expected to hear from him.

  Instead of feeling better, she felt worse. Was he sorry for lying to her about his injury or his behavior downstairs?

  Just when she felt more secure that he was working toward opening up to her more, despite his quiet personality, today's events set her back into feeling insecure and doubting their ability to make their relationship work. When those kinds of thoughts entered her head, she latched on to them.

  She couldn't help it. As much as she wanted to have faith in him, she needed that deep emotional connection from him that she felt in her heart.

  It scared her to think all their work was for nothing and in the end, she'd walk away because of her need to have someone fully committed to her, including letting her be a part of his life in every way.

  "What are you sorry about?" she whispered, afraid his answer would push her further away.

  "All of it." He turned but made no move to come back to her. "I kept the truth about getting shot in my arm from you because I didn't want you to be scared. Tonight, I took you away from the customers because I wanted you to myself. I hate seeing others making you happier than I can make you."

  She crossed her arms and cupped her elbows. What happened downstairs was small compared to hiding the truth from her.

  "Who would
shoot you?" she asked.

  He shrugged. "Probably a stray bullet from a hunter in the area. It's deer season."

  "How can you know that for sure?" She stepped forward and stopped. "Someone blew up my motorhome a few months ago while it was parked at Stone Lair. Maybe someone is after you and—"

  "Il." He closed his eyes an extra beat and then held her gaze. "This is what I was afraid you'd do, and what happened is nothing for you to worry about. I was only trying to protect you because I'm fine. Being up on the mountain with you, sharing that time together, was something I don't want to lose. I don't want a stray bullet to scare you from going back with me. It was a fluke that it happened and no serious harm was done."

  She walked to him. He tagged her neck, pulling her forward.

  Wrapping her arms around him, she said, "You're not going to lose me if you share your life with me. You can't shut me out or try to protect me because when you do, it hurts us."

  "I hear you," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I could use a drink. You?"

  "I have to sing tonight." She stretched up and kissed his lips, knowing alcohol wouldn't be good for her voice. "I'll get you one. What would you like?"

  "Beer." He walked over and sat down on the couch, stretching his legs out.

  She retrieved the bottle out of the fridge and joined him in the living room. Snuggling against him, she rubbed his stomach. She found herself wanting to reassure herself that they'd conquered their second big conflict over his lack of communication but Anders wasn't a man who shared his feelings.

  She couldn't take a third fight with him, and it also shouldn't take her getting angry or being scared half to death for him to say that his level of feelings toward her scares him.

  She hadn't mentioned love since the first time she confessed that she was falling in love with him. There was no schedule for when the word was shared by both of them.

  She was ready.

  She loved him.

  For her, she wanted to wait until he gave her every little piece of him.

 

‹ Prev