by KB Winters
She gave a big embellished nod. “I did. Want to learn to play guitar with me?”
My gaze went from the guitar in her hands to the little blonde girl on the paused screen behind me. “In a minute. Have you seen Peaches?”
Her little face twisted the way it did when she was deep in thought trying to remember some detail. “Uhm, yeah but not since she said she was going to help Martha hang the laundry out to dry.”
Hmm. That explained why Martha didn’t answer earlier. “Thanks Maisie. We’ll play guitar later, okay?” My feet were already on the move but her question stopped me in my tracks.
“Promise?”
I turned to face her and arched a brow. “I promise. Stay here, Squirt. I’ll be right back. Love you.”
“Love you too, Gunny!”
I shook my head as I jogged down the stairs, knowing she would be calling me that damned nickname until the day I died. Those thoughts were pushed aside as I ran down the front steps headed towards the bunkhouse, but the sound of a familiar ringtone stopped me. “Cross, I can’t talk right now brother. I’m trying—”
“This ain’t a social call, Gunnar. Jag just got notice that Bob Slauson was found dead in her car on the side of the road. They’re calling it a heart attack, but she had a bullet in her head.”
“Shit!” His words sank in instantly and dread rose up in me, making my feet move like they were trapped in mud as I tried to get to the bunkhouse.
“I haven’t even told her about the guy who visited last week looking for her.” Now I felt bad because she’d had no warning that the people hunting her were so close, but I knew if I told her she would leave. And I didn’t want that.
“What did you tell him?”
I stared at the phone to make sure this was my old Prez, Cross, I was talking to.
“You seriously have to ask me that? I didn’t tell him a goddamn thing, not even confirming that I knew the name. You know me. At least I thought you did.”
Cross sighed. He sounded exhausted, making me realize what a dick I’d been about all of this. “I do know you Gunnar, but I also know you’re no fan of Peaches.”
And what he didn’t say was that I was perfectly fine with Vivi doing the Reckless Bastards’ jail time for us because I was no fan of hers either. Even though she’d proven herself more than worthy.
“How’s she doing?”
I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me, and I wondered if I would always feel like a subordinate where Cross was concerned.
“Hell if I know. I think she’s avoiding me because I haven’t seen her in a few days, even at meal time.”
Just then I thought of all the gifts she’d gotten Maisie, and I had a sinking feeling in my gut. They were years of birthday and Christmas presents. “Shit.”
Cross groaned, expecting to hear the worst. “She’s not answering Vivi’s calls either, and this morning, she got rid of that number. Gunnar, I need you to get eyes on Peaches, man. Now.”
I didn’t know who hung up first, me or Cross, because blood pounded through my head as I ran to the bunkhouse, finding everyone there but the woman I was looking for.
“What’s up, man?” Saint was the one to ask the question, shocking the shit out of me. If I’d been thinking straight at the time I would have realized what progress he’d made but my mind was full of one woman.
“Peaches. Have any of you seen her today?” Holden sat around the table with Saint, Slayer and Ford, already getting a head start on playing cards and drinking beer.
“Nope.” They all had a variation of no which only pissed me off.
“Fuck.” I hesitated for a minute, wondering if this was a burden I needed to place on these men right now. But this was an emergency and even when his PTSD was at its worst, Max had been there when we needed him.
“Peaches is gone.”
I told them about the guy showing up last week and as much as I knew of the work she did and what brought her to the ranch. “I should have told you sooner but I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”
Only Holden gave me a look that called bullshit, because he knew that her stay was meant to be much shorter so there would’ve been no need to tell them anything.
“So she’s hot as shit and a badass?” Slayer snorted and shook his head. “No wonder you’re so fucking scared of her.”
I glared in his direction but the fucker was unfazed. “We need to find her.” At my words, they were all on their feet, shoving them into shoes and boots, grabbing jackets and gear. Ready to help.
“Thank you,” I said before we all hustled out of there.
“None necessary,” Holden said as he clapped me on the back. “We’re brothers, remember?”
“Fuck yeah,” I told him, my expression serious as we shook hands and embraced the way men do. The way brothers did. I walked out and tried to call Peaches, knowing ahead of time that it wouldn’t go through, yet still pissed when it didn’t.
“The number you have reached is no longer in service.”
She’d made it damn near impossible to find her, and she was damn good at disappearing according to Jag and Vivi.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” My stomach lurched and it became hard to swallow as bad thoughts, terrible, deadly thoughts ran through my mind, all involving Peaches, pale and dead. Alone.
Holden stepped up and placed a hand on my shoulder, a sympathetic smile on his face. “It’s better to realize it now than when it’s too late, brother.”
“What?” There was no need to bark at Holden because the man let shit roll of his back like melted butter.
He grinned. “That you’re in love with her, dumbass. It’s better to figure it out before it’s too late. Believe me.” There was a story there and if I wasn’t so worried and so damn selfish, I would dig.
“I’m not touching that comment, not even with your foot long cock, Holden.” He laughed and pushed me towards the ATVs in the barn because they would help us search the property quicker.
“As long as your heart knows it, you don’t have to say a word, least of all to me.”
That was the last thing Holden said before we took off to find Peaches.
The woman I might—or might not—have been in love with.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Peaches
I wish I could have said that it had been far too long since I’d slept in a car but that would have been a damn lie. That went double for the half-rusted piece of crap pickup truck I traded the Caddie in for. It was old as hell, too old to have any trackable technology, which suited my purposes just fine, but it was the second worst place I’d ever slept.
After I’d picked up the truck last night, I pulled into a truck stop for some food and planning session. I needed something that at least resembled some kind of getaway plan before those assholes caught up with me. I still couldn’t believe Gunnar hadn’t said anything to me about the man showing up at the ranch.
But first, I had to switch the license plates just in case they somehow figured out how to find Ray from Craigslist who’d always wanted an old Cadillac, and he gave them important information. Temporary out of state plates were the best in this situation because most cops didn’t know enough about how other states worked to make a big deal out of it. Also, they were easy to change out quickly. I also got rid of my phone, shoving it into one of the airholes in a trailer that made sure livestock arrived at their destination still breathing.
Over a big fat juicy cheeseburger complete with a salad and chili fries, I read an anonymous email, encrypted up the ass, telling me that Bob Slauson was dead. There was no other information and I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t a trap so I fired up the old search engine and my heart fell to my gut at the words on the page. A heart attack, so they said, but Bob would never do something as amateurish as pull over on the side of the road in the middle of the night. Not for anyone. She’d done too much shady shit in her life to ever take that risk. Someone took her out. A hit. I was literally and figuratively fucked.
Once the sun came up, I drove into the closest city and found a cheap, by the hour motel to get cleaned up. Homeless street urchin wasn’t the look I was going for when I needed to play nice with the good ol’ boys to get my hands on some firepower.
God bless Texas, was my only thought as I drove along the interstate, clean, powdered, and perky again, and finally spotted a giant hangar that simply said GUN DEPOT.
“Thank you, Texas!” I grabbed one of my IDs and shoved a few stacks of cash into my bag before popping a few buttons on my red and white checked shirt and hiking my denim skirt up just enough to cause a distraction.
It worked. Ninety minutes later I had enough weapons and ammo to start a small army. It was just me, which meant this should take me as far as I could go with what I was up against. I loaded up the back of the truck, covered and secured it and got back on the road, driving a few hours in the opposite direction, hoping that zigzagging across this huge ass state would throw them off my scent.
It was already after lunchtime when I came to a stop at the urging of my growling stomach, but before I could even think about food, there was something I needed to do first. I opened one of the burner phones I’d bought and dialed the only number I knew. “It’s me, Vivi.”
There was a long silence and then a loud gasp. “What the fuck were you thinking, Peaches? Leaving the Hardtail Ranch! Leaving, really?”
I thought she might’ve been done but I gave her a second just to be safe.
“Gunnar is worried sick. He called us to see if you were headed here. Imagine my surprise because I haven’t heard a fucking word from you in days. Almost a goddamn week, Peaches!”
“You done?”
“For now. Seriously, what the fuck?”
“I had to figure a few things out. That’s why I didn’t call. Besides, you said you’d call if you heard anything and you didn’t. Not even about Bob.”
“Not that you’d know, since you cut your goddamn phone off.”
She was right, but so was I. “So you’re saying if I check the messages, I’ll hear your voice telling me Bob’s dead?” She didn’t say anything and I didn’t even have the energy for a stupid smirk. “That’s what I thought.”
“Okay fine, I knew if I told you that, you’d fly out of there like your ass was on fire. And look at you fly, girl.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Since when are you such a drama queen? Anyway, I found out about Bob early this morning and I was already gone.”
“Clearly,” Vivi grumbled but I heard the telltale sniffling again and I was alarmed. “You’re my sister and you weren’t even gonna say goodbye?”
“That’s what this call was supposed to be. I didn’t think Gunnar would notice for a few more days.” Barely thirty-six hours had passed since I snuck off the ranch, but I figured he wouldn’t notice until tomorrow some time. “He’s more perceptive than I thought.”
“And he probably wouldn’t have if Cross hadn’t called to tell him about Bob.” Vivi was pissed and although I understood why, I couldn’t deal with it right now.
“I had a few errands to run first to make sure this was the path I wanted to go down.”
“And now you’re sure?” I heard her skepticism, but I wouldn’t let her know it got to me.
I wasn’t sure, not even a little bit, but this wasn’t really about what I wanted. This was what had to be done. “Absolutely.”
“Well I’m not, dammit. Go back to the ranch. Please.”
“I can’t.” As much as I didn’t want to spend what could possibly be the last few minutes I had with my best friend arguing, I had to tell her the truth. I told her about the fed who showed up on the ranch and threatened Maisie.
“And Gunnar didn’t say one damn word to me.” She wasn’t convinced, but she would be. “He was watching, just enough to know Maisie was his weak spot, but still, he didn’t say shit to me about it, Vivi.”
“Don’t you think that’s for Gunnar to decide?”
“Hell no, I don’t. We both had parents who didn’t give a fuck about the kids they brought into this world, Vivi. Look how we ended up! Maisie has a chance at something better.”
Vivi snorted, and I could just picture her doing her best to look snooty. “We didn’t turn out so bad.”
“Maybe not,” I conceded since Vivi was living as close to normal as people like us were allowed. “But she has a chance at better than fifty-fifty. Maybe even better than your somewhat normal life and damn sure better than making a goodbye call to your best friend before your Dirty Thirty.”
Vivi was no longer just sniffling, she was out right crying. Blubbering, even.
“Don’t say that Peaches. I can’t hear it, not now.”
“Wow, chica, pregnancy has made you soft.”
She snort-laughed on the other end of the line. “That’s what carrying life inside of you does to a woman.”
That thought made me smile, and I was glad I didn’t stay in Mayhem and bring this shit to her door. “Then you do have something else to worry about right now. That baby. Not me.”
“Don’t hang up yet, Peaches.”
This was hard. It was the first time we’d ever said goodbye to each other where it might actually mean goodbye. Listening to my best friend, the toughest chick I knew, cry her eyes out over me, tore my heart right out of my chest.
“Take care of yourself Peaches. Be safe and call me from wherever you land next.”
It was what she always said before one of us left on a job we couldn’t talk about or a vacation that was meant to erase another scar. This time it was bullshit. We both knew the next place I’d land was the morgue, but I smiled and nodded even though she couldn’t see me. I wasn’t sure how pregnancy hormones worked, but I figured it was better safe than sorry.
“Will do, Vivi. Take care of that baby. Love you.” I ended the call before she could say something that would make me change my mind. I sat in my car and let the tears fall. And fall. I didn’t know how long I stayed there, but I stayed until I was all cried out.
I washed my face with a bottle of water, changed into my favorite worn out jeans and got back on the road, headed somewhere.
Anywhere.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gunnar
“You didn’t think I’d let you get away so easy, did you?”
I could have kissed Jag after he called with news of Peaches’ whereabouts and more importantly, her phone number.
Peaches laugh was deep and husky but it lacked her usual amusement, hammering home once again just how much trouble she was in.
“But I did get away, Gunnar. The words you’re searching for are ‘thank you’.”
What the fuck? I looked at the phone like it might sprout a head. “What am I thanking you for, exactly? Sending me all over the ranch in search of you or having the guys run all over Opey and beyond searching for you?”
She laughed again, this one was colder and darker. More distant. “For taking my troubles away from you and your family.”
I could tell by her tone that she actually believed that shit, which pissed me off for a couple reasons. First, because it meant I’d misjudged her and she wasn’t saying that shit to get sympathy and second, well, because she believed that shit.
“We’ve all been searching for you, Peaches. Maisie is—”
“No. Stop. Don’t tell me.” She was on the verge of tears, something she hadn’t done since we’d met, and that was a good thing in a woman as far as I could tell.
“Fine,” I conceded because like most men, I was shit at dealing with emotional, crying women. “Where are you?”
“Somewhere safe.” Vague words meant to piss me off or protect me. Didn’t matter, the outcome was the same.
“I’ve been going crazy trying to find you. I thought those assholes ha
d gotten to you.” My voice broke, showing even her just how worried I was about her. “Just tell me where you are.”
“Careful Gunnar, you almost sound like you give a damn.” I could hear the smile in her voice in her attempt to lighten the mood but I couldn’t.
Not this time. “Of course, I give a damn.”
She was silent for a long time, so long I thought maybe the call had dropped, but the timer still ticked. I waited her out, wondering if my words scared her, appealed to her or pissed her off.
“I’m fine Gunnar. I’m armed and making plans as we speak. But I am glad you called.”
She sucked in a deep breath and I could just picture the rise and fall of her tits, probably barely contained in a lowcut tank top or a tight tee.
“Thank you for putting me up for so long. I know you didn’t have to, and I know I didn’t make it easy, but I’m glad you did so, thanks. You have a good thing going on at Hardtail, and I hope it all works out for you guys.”
A dark frown crossed my face at her words, and I ignored the searing pain behind my eyes and deep in my chest. It felt like anxiety and panic and fear. I fucking hated fear. “Sounds like you’re trying to say goodbye to me, Peach.”
“I’m not trying, Gunnar. I’m saying it. Goodbye.”
“No, dammit—” But it was too late, she’d already ended the call. I called her right back. “Damn stubborn ass woman!” The call went straight to voicemail. Three fucking times it went to voicemail. On the fourth try, the operator said the number was no longer valid.
“Fuck!” I shouted. I wanted to tear my office apart until I felt better, until some of the anger and fear simmering just under the surface was let loose. Uncaged. But cleaning it up later would only piss me off and this room was off-limits to Martha and her daughters.
“Everything all right, Gunnar?”
I looked up and was met with Holden’s steady brown gaze. Arms folded and eyes filled with concern, the cowboy was good in a crisis.
“Fuck no, I’m not all right. I finally talked to Peaches and she’s gone. Said goodbye and then shut off her fucking phone. Fuck!”
