Like Arrows (Cedar Tree #6)

by Freya Barker

  "Ohmigawd," I mumble through my half-filled mouth. "That is so good."

  "I know right?" Emma smiles.

  "This is amazing, Emma. I don't know what to say." I'm getting a bit misty-eyed at the incredible support I'm getting from people I didn't even know a couple of months ago.

  "Not much we can do but try and make this battle a little easier for you. You're still gonna have to do all the fighting yourself, but let us do what we can to cheer you on."

  At a loss for words, I wrap Emma in a tight hug, which the older woman returns with equal force.

  "How the fuck did you find that place?"

  The one man who has the ability to scare me simply shrugs his shoulders. "Got my sources, esé. Not that difficult if you buy the right people."

  Figures he would have law enforcement in his fucking pocket too. I was shocked when he just walked in behind the two guys who took me from the FBI safe house. From what I understand, he never sets foot on US soil anymore. That's why I entered into this oil field deal, because I had expected him to be a silent partner. He turned out not to be so silent, dogging me every step of the way during the land negotiations and upping the pressure when the Walker family held out.

  Ernesto Duarte was the head of the Mexican Agave cartel and a man whose reputation for being ruthless in his business dealings made me look like Santa Claus. He was also standing across from me, forcing me to tilt my head back, since I'm tied down to a chair. Not a position I particularly enjoy.

  Especially not when Duarte motions one of his men forward, carrying an old-fashioned doctor's bag.

  "Hey, what's going on?" My voice squeaks as panic closes up my throat.

  "You've tried and failed, esé. Time for the professionals to take over."

  "All I need is a day, I'll find her," I plead to deaf ears.

  The man simply shakes his head, almost making me believe he's regretful, but I know better. "Jacob, Jacob, Jacob—you still don't get it, do you? You've lost focus, my friend. The oil is the primary objective and you've lost sight of that."

  "But the girl knows too much—" I try before he cuts me off with a blow of his fist that snaps my head back. I can taste the blood in my mouth and my eyes tear up, blurring the sight of him.

  "What's her name?" he barks.

  "Kimeo—Kimeo Lowe, I almost had her. I...I think she knows more than she's let on." In a last ditch effort to get out of this, I throw the bitch under the bus. She's the one who's caused trouble from the start. She'll get what's coming one way or another.

  With a dismissive wave of his hand, Duarte turns and walks toward the door and for a moment I feel elation at having dodged that bullet. That is, until he stops and turns at the door. "I'm done with him."

  It takes the cold steel of a barrel against the base of my skull and a single moment of terrified realization before it all goes black.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Mal

  "Joe obviously called."

  I watch Neil pick up Boo's ball and toss it to the back fence. Gus had lead us straight through the house and out the backdoor. Of course Boo wasn't gonna be left behind.

  "He did," Gus says easily. "Gonna have to get used to everyone wanting to look out for you, my friend. Your girl's been adopted by our significant others and they demand we do our part, so suck it up. Jed's place is secure, but not as secure as Joe'd like, so I'm here to pick up Neil and we're heading out there to tweak it a little."

  "Right now?" I'm surprised and a little peeved that I hadn't even considered that.

  "Yes, right now—and stop beating yourself up for not thinking of it first," he chuckles and Neil joins him.

  "What the fuck? Since when are all you guys in my head?" I ask, making Gus laugh out loud.

  "You fell in love, dufus. The moment you did your mind became predictable. All of us guys, except for maybe young Neil here, have been there. You focus on her and let us worry about the rest. Oh, and by the way," he says picking the ball up that Boo drops at his feet. "May wanna fire up that BBQ. I won't be here long, but prepare yourself for an invasion. It's Monday, the diner is closed and the telephone tree was active. Cookout here and supplies are coming."

  "Save some steak for me," Neil contributes before following Gus through the garden gate.

  At the same time, I hear the doorbell. The invasion has begun.

  -

  "Are you scared?"

  Kim's back is tucked into my front, her hands holding my arms around her in place. I lean in and kiss the exposed skin of her neck. "I am," I confess.

  We spent a loud and rambunctious, but fun evening with even Clint and Beth. The two little monsters, Mattias and Max, gave Boo a good workout. After a little initial shyness on the boys' and Boo's parts, they were thick as thieves as soon as the first ball was tossed. Seb and Arlene had shown up with coolers full of dinner fixings: steaks, hot dogs, a macaroni salad, green salad and baking potatoes. Naomi and Joe hauled in a few gallons of ice cream, a case of beer and a big bottle of wine and Emma made an apple crumble appear while dinner was cooking. We had that with ice cream after dinner.

  Kim and I had been so exhausted when we made it to bed that we wrapped around each other and promptly fell asleep.

  It's early morning now, light filtering through the blinds and I am surprised Boo hasn't come begging to be let out yet. I'm halfway between sleep and awake when Kim asks me and maybe had I been fully awake I wouldn't have been so direct.

  "I'm mostly frustrated, angry that I can't protect you from this—can't take it on for you. But there's a small part of me that is scared of even the most remote possibility of losing you to something I can't control."

  She turns around in my arms to face me, her hand immediately reaching up to touch my face.

  "You won't lose me. God wouldn't be so cruel. I won't let him." Her eyes are sincere, but they have a sparkle.

  "Won't let him, huh? You've got that kind of clout with the big guy?" I tease her, chuckling.

  "I do. I think we're both due for some happy. This is just the last hurdle before we get to it." She scoots closer and I lay back when she rests her head on my shoulder. My arm tucks her tight.

  "Whatever happens, if this moment, right here, is all we'll have, it's still the happiest I've had. I love you, Malachi." Her voice is soft but firm, and I'm amazed again at the strength and light this woman is no longer afraid to share.

  "Love you. Heart and spirit, Nizhóní."

  Forcing everything but her smell, her touch, her love out of my awareness, I grab a handful of her hair and press her even closer.

  Kim

  "I'll be right behind you," Mal says as he leans into the car and gives me a kiss. "Just going to give Boo a quick walk and then I'll head into town. Neil's gonna be following right behind you guys."

  Mal's brother had some business in town and Katie had driven up with him yesterday, leaving Mattias and Blue with Beth. I was actually relieved to hear they were coming, the mood in Jed's beautiful house was getting more strained by the minute. I don't know what I expected, shacking up with two guys who seemed to only tolerate each other, but this past week and a half has been a test on everyone's nerves. After my first chemo, I hadn't felt ill at all, at first. It was the second day, the Wednesday, that my system raised protest. I spent a lot of time in the bathroom that day and both Mal and Neil had fluttered around, trying their best to make me comfortable. I hadn't even been able to muster up any feelings of shame for my upset stomach or bowels. I'd been too miserable. But it was clear that as much as this wouldn't be easy for me, it was perhaps even worse for these guys, who with all their protective instincts at peak level, couldn't do a damn thing for me.

  Radiation had been a cakewalk in comparison. In and out in twenty minutes and only the last round yesterday left me with a slight burn and a scratch in my throat. Merely uncomfortable in comparison to what I know this next chemo session will be for me. I've been holding back on voicing my anxieties around Mal, because it only seems to en
flame his need to make me feel better. That, in turn, is starting to eat at me. Guilt. I know it's unreasonable and out of my control, but still, I feel responsible for bringing this on everyone. Which is exactly why the timing of Caleb and Katie's visit couldn't have come at a better time. The moment they arrived, Katie's direct and pertinent approach felt like relief. No careful and cautious questioning, but a blunt statement that had me doubled over laughing.

  "You look like crap." Was the first thing out of her mouth and I could've kissed her for being real. Mal started to react but I surprised him when I burst out howling until tears ran down my face. I missed having my friends around to distract me and lighten the mood. Being excommunicated to a log home in the middle of nowhere had fast lost its shine.

  The building tension in the house dissipated into thin air over the dinner that Caleb and Mal cooked. Lean protein, softened vegetables and a peach cobbler, sent up by Emma who couldn't resist. I didn't eat much but enjoyed every bite, if not for the flavor, for the company I shared it with.

  This morning, for the first time since I started this journey, Mal won't be glued to my side and I was glad for it. Not that I don't want him there, but I'm starting to worry more about him than about me. We both need a little break. Both Katie and Neil are fully trained security specialists, so I'm not worried about that. In fact, nothing has happened in the past week and I'm starting to think this may all be over. In any event, having Katie drive me this morning is a great distraction from what I know is coming. She chatters about Mattias and his antics, and tells me she's been in touch with Kerry, who is planning to come up next week.

  "I offered her to tag along, but she said she has a few things to sort out this week, but she'll call every day and promises to be there for your last chemo. She wants to celebrate with you."

  Tears burn my eyes, but I'm willing them not to fall. Noticing my struggle, Katie quickly changes direction. "So any hot doctors I need to look out for?" She wiggles her eyebrows, making me snort.

  "Not hot enough to be any kind of distraction from the fine set of brothers we've got our claws into."

  "Ain't that the truth," she says, turning to me with a wide grin.

  The moment we pull into the parking lot my anxiety is back. If she notices my sudden quiet, Katie doesn't seem to miss a beat, but simply continues to chat about...well, I don't really know about what, since my mind is on what is to come. It's welcome though. The sense of normalcy she tries to inject when otherwise I would probably be asked if I was holding up all right constantly.

  "Hey, Kim," Chrissy, one of the nurses greets me. "You brought new reinforcements today?"

  "Hi, yes, this is Katie, Mal's sister-in-law."

  With introductions out of the way, Chrissy settles me in one of the large recliners in the treatment room, pulling up a visitor chair for Katie before taking off to prep my cocktail of poison. The curtain is closed around us, giving us an illusion of privacy, even though the door to the hallway is always open. Still, it's enough to leave me with a bit of dignity without making me feel isolated. With the nurse's station right across the hall, all it would take is a sniffle or a clearing of my throat for someone to come check.

  "I brought you something. Well, actually, Caleb brought it. Something his grandmother made for him." She pulls a beautiful afghan out of her tote. Rich earth colors brace a set of intricately detailed wings. Angel wings.

  "It's beautiful," I say in awe.

  “She gave it to them after Nascha died, with the wings representing their sister watching over them. It's the only thing he took with him when he left home."

  I'm overwhelmed as she tucks the blanket around me.

  "Caleb is convinced of its powers," she smiles indulgently. "Every time Mattias has even a simple cold, he wraps that boy up in this thing, summer or winter, doesn't matter. Anyway," she says, looking a little red-eyed herself, "we figure both Nascha and amá sáni would be honored to provide you with some comfort—and who knows, maybe some protection too."

  "That's gorgeous!" Chrissy steps around the curtain, pushing a cart with all the 'tools of torture.' I can't help but chuckle at my own melodrama. I run my hands over the soft texture of the afghan and smile up at her.

  "Isn't it? Mal's grandmother made it and Katie and her husband brought it in."

  "It's perfect. Gonna keep you nice and cozy. You know this stuff can give you the chills." She indicates the IV bag on the trolley. "You know," she turns to Katie, "If you want to grab a drink or something to eat quick, this would be the time."

  I see the hesitation on Katie's face. "Go, it'll be a long sit without any sustenance. Grab something, I mean it," I add when she still seems unsure.

  "Okay. I won't be long," she says, squeezing my hand in passing.

  The moment Katie is gone, Chrissy pulls a chart. "So tell me—what if any symptoms did you have after your first chemo? Any nausea, diarrhea? Excessive hair loss?" she adds carefully.

  "Yes, yes and..." I hesitate because saying it out loud makes it more real. It may be vain, but losing my hair is something I've not been able to bear thinking about. In my mind it has always been my best feature and losing that is like losing myself. I swallow hard before continuing, I need to be realistic about this. "And yes, not so much the first couple of days, but I've noticed when I wash my hair or brush it that it's coming loose easily. I actually tied it back in a ponytail, naively thinking that maybe I'll keep it on my head a bit longer that way."

  She doesn't say anything, but spends the next few minutes in silence, scribbling her notes before closing the binder. It takes her only seconds to find a good vein for the IV needle. She eases it in, securing it, before she hooks up two bags, hanging them on the stand. When I'm all set to go, she sits down beside me grabbing my hand. "You know—I imagine for most, the hair loss, when it does happen, is a very harsh reality check. I'm guessing it makes the cancer so much more real—visible. But I also know for those who are incredibly strong, like I know you are, it can be a badge of honor too. A sign of strength, of an ability to fight without leaving a stone unturned. The new hair that will grow eventually will be an affirmation of your victory. I really believe that." With a smile and a hand ruffling my, still present, hair, she disappears through the curtains.

  I'm allowing myself to drift off a little with my eyes closed, when I hear the curtains pull back. It must be Katie, who's come back and I wait for her to say something.

  "You don't look like you'll be too much trouble," the unfamiliar deep rumble stops my heart.

  Mal

  "How are you holding up?"

  Caleb slides into the booth across from me. We're just grabbing a quick bite at a diner on the outskirts of town before Caleb heads off to meet a new client. It's been hard for me to eat around Kim, not because she has a problem with it, but because I feel guilty with every bite I put in my mouth. Her stomach has been easily upset and I've seen the weight coming off already. Not something I like seeing.

  "It's tough—being so powerless—it's not something that sits well. I lie awake forever at night just looking at her, you know? Wondering—"

  "Don't even go there. Don't draw comparisons to Nascha. Kim is going to beat this and you've gotta start believing it." Caleb grabs my wrist and squeezes before letting go.

  "She's starting to lose her hair," I reveal, remembering the soft strands I found on her pillow when she rolled over last night. "She loves her hair."

  "It's gonna grow back, Mal."

  "I know..." I let my words trail off, because really—what is there to say? Rationally I know it's part of the treatment, just like the nausea and the weight loss, and yet I want to pick her up and take her away from all of this. Totally irrational, and still I feel that urge.

  A cheerful waitress slides some mugs in front of us. "Coffee I assume?" she says with a smile as she dumps a hand full of creamers on the table. "You ready to order? Or do you need a minute?"

  "Two eggs over hard, bacon, home fries and if you have it, rye brea
d," Caleb says, going first.

  "No rye, but we have a nice sourdough?"

  "I'll have that."

  I order the same.

  Caleb's phone rings a few minutes later, when I'm about to put the last of my toast in my mouth.

  "Talk to me." I see his eyebrows shoot up before his eyes hit mine. "How long do you figure he's been dead? —Don't give me that coroner crap, you must have some idea."

  The hair on the back of my neck stands up. Who the fuck is he talking about? But his next words really concern me.

  "Shot to the base of the skull can't be a coincidence. You have anything else? —Right, then let me fill Mal in. I'll be in soon."

  The moment he hangs up I'm on him. "Cartel signature execution. You talking Hartnett?"

  "Got it in one, little brother. Found this morning by someone chasing after their dog up in the woods on the north side of town. Tied to a chair, shot in the back of the neck. Not a lot left of his face but from a few other identifying marks they could make a good guess at his identity. At least Gomez did. Looks like he'd been dead for close to a week. That was him on the phone by the way, Gomez. Looks like his hunch about Hartnett not playing alone was dead on. With any luck this will be over for Kim now. She doesn't know anything beyond Hartnett's involvement."

  I shake my head, even as Caleb is trying to convince me otherwise. "Not the way they work, Caleb. They don't leave loose ends. Never." I should know—a few years ago I got tangled up with a Mexican cartel and they were relentless in their pursuit. If not for an unexpected family connection to Katie that had them back off, I'd probably still be on the run. Or dead. At the time I ran into trouble with the cartel, Katie had been unaware she was actually the illegitimate half-sister of the current cartel boss. Something she struggled with at the time, but had not hesitated using to get me off the hook with them.