by Jenna Kernan
His gaze strayed and he watched her nipples tighten to buds beneath the thin fabric.
“You didn’t take the medication your brother gave you?”
“It doesn’t do anything for me.”
He rose from the bed. Their eyes met. Heat flared between them, and his skin began to itch.
“I’ll get them for you,” she offered.
“I can do it.” He didn’t want to be babied. He just wanted to get through this unlikely partnership without doing something stupid, like forgetting he was a job to her.
Beth turned back at the same time he tried to step past. Her elbow collided with his biceps and he gave a hiss of pain through his teeth.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” She had a hold of his opposite arm now, helping him straighten as she looked up at him with that adorable worried expression. Now Ty’s stomach hurt worse than his shoulder. Beth was killing him. She hurried to the bathroom medicine cabinet, her scent filling his nostrils as she went. Her wet hair was a riot of curls and he wanted to press his mouth to her neck and thread his fingers in her thick wonderful hair as he breathed her in.
Instead, he clenched his teeth and headed with Hemi to the kitchen, for a glass of water. She arrived with the BC Powder, his go-to for all body pain, as he was letting Hemi out.
“Extra-strength okay?” She held up the package.
“Fine.”
She offered him a papery envelope of ground pain reliever in her open palm. His fingers swept over her hand, and Beth’s hand trembled. His eyes lifted to hers and she lowered her lashes as green eyes darted away. He unfolded one end of the packet and poured the bitter powder to the back of his throat, then chased it with cold water.
Her upper teeth clamped over her plump bottom lip and dragged over the tender flesh. He took another long swallow of water and his throat still felt dry. There was a definite lump lodged there.
“Wow,” he said. “You are something because I can’t think about anything but kissing you again.”
Her eyes rounded and she backed toward the hall.
“Shower,” she said. “Because I am sleeping with you, but we are not having sex.”
“Tonight,” he said, qualifying.
“Ever. It’s a job. After I bust up this surrogate ring, I am moving on and you’re staying where you have always been, here on Turquoise Canyon with your family.”
“Between my family and the Wolf Posse, you mean.”
“What?”
“It’s why I’ve stayed.”
“You saying you are here to protect them?”
He did not reply, just walked past her down the hall. He’d already said too much. He thought about the information that Faras had given him about the location of the first ever meth lab on tribal land. He didn’t like it, but it wasn’t his business and it wasn’t Beth’s, either, because despite their agreement, this was not part of the surrogate kidnapping ring. Faras was hedging his bets, because it was very possible that the Russians would find their little fertile field of young surrogates ruined by the increasing attention of the police and federal authorities.
Ty was angry over the fact that the Russian crime organization supposed that no one would miss the girls that disappeared and even more furious that they were right. Up until Jake and his new wife, Lori, made the connection between the disappearances and the tribe’s clinic, no one had thought these missing girls were anything more than runaways.
Ty hit the shower, careful not to soak the bandage Kee had fixed to his shoulder. The stitches tugged, but he managed to get himself clean and ready for bed. He dragged on a pair of loose sweatpants and shuffled like an old man across the hall. Beth was in bed under the sheets and blanket. Hemi stretched out on top of the blanket beside her like a living partition. Ty no longer cared. He was too tired to do anything more than imagine having a woman as smart and beautiful as Beth pressed up beside him in his bed. He realized that living above his garage was not likely what she pictured when she closed her eyes and that conjecture took some of the spark from him. Hemi fell asleep first, snoring as usual. Beth fell asleep next, likely with her hand on her service pistol.
Ty waited for the medication to take the sharpest notes of pain from his shoulder and then he closed his eyes, drifting away to sleep. His dreams were filled with a sense of looming menace that woke him in a sweat during the night. He wondered if he had a fever. Hemi lifted her head and then dropped it on his stomach. He rested a hand on her shoulder and noticed that Beth was lying on her side facing him. One of her hands was on the dog’s rib cage, just inches from his. In sleep, her skin glowed ethereal, like a fairy queen’s, and her face was as serene and calm as the clear night sky. He resisted the urge to touch his fingers to hers and closed his eyes. The beat of his heart echoed in his healing shoulder.
The next thing he knew he was startled awake a few hours later by an unfamiliar ringtone. He threw himself to a seated position as Beth scrambled off the bed and retrieved her mobile phone, which she had plugged into a charger on his dresser. He scooped up his mobile from the nightstand and saw that it wasn’t even 6:00 a.m. He’d been asleep less than five hours.
Ty sank back to the pillows and groaned, covering his eyes with his arm against the pale gray light that filtered through the slats of the blinds. His shoulder pulsed to life, sending a dull ache down his arm with each heartbeat.
Beth was speaking to her supervisor. She was telling him she could be there in twenty minutes. When she finished the call she was scrambling through her duffel.
“Be where in twenty?” he asked.
“Go back to sleep,” she said.
“Yeah, right. Am I going?”
She shook her head, her arms now full of clothing and her bathroom bag. “I’ll see you later today. Just carry on as you normally would do.”
“So fix the carburetor. Is that your suggestion?”
But she was already gone.
He was still in bed when she returned. She was dressed as a civilian, her brown leather coat hiding her shoulder harness and her black turtleneck sweater hiding the FBI shield he suspected she wore. “Call me if you hear anything from Faras.”
“Yes, Agent Hoosay.”
Hemi stood before Beth, tail wagging.
“Let her out?” she asked.
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
Beth and Hemi disappeared down the hall and Ty rose to meet the day. He was on his second cup of coffee when Hemi demanded readmission and breakfast. Ty spent Monday morning in the shop and the afternoon took Hemi over to his mother’s place. Ty fixed her bathroom sink drain, which was choking under the strain of hair shed by the three foster girls, Lori’s sisters, and his own sister, Abbie. He pulled a wad of wet black hair the size of a drowned rat from the drain, solving the problem.
His mother thanked him in the usual way by fixing him a sandwich. But she sat with him, waiting until he finished to bring up whatever it was that was troubling her. Then she pushed a folded sheet of paper at him with the warning to not get upset.
He unfolded the page and noted the prison insignia at the top of the letterhead. His heart rate doubled as he scowled. He was already upset.
When she spoke, his mother’s voice held a familiar tightness he had not heard in a long time. “He’s been paroled.”
Chapter Twelve
There was no need to ask who Ty’s mother meant. His father had served seven years on a ten-year sentence. They’d all been bracing for this. Seven years ago, Ty had thought he had everything settled. Addie would be in college, hopefully, and Ty would have his brothers to help protect their mother.
But Colt was gone. And Kee and Jake both had their own families to protect.
“When?” asked Ty.
“Soon. I don’t know exactly. I put in a postconviction request form so they’ll notify me fifteen days before release, but you know, the m
ail up here is slow. Might not know right away.”
Ty glanced down at the letter again and realized that it was over a month old. “You just got this?”
His mother flushed. “No. A while ago.”
“And you didn’t tell me until now?”
“I knew you’d be upset.”
That didn’t even begin to cover it. Ty had been to see his father only once after he was incarcerated because he wanted to see him locked up. Only after the visit did Ty realize the vanity of that meeting and the danger it brought. Colton Redhorse had figured it out at first glance. His father was a brutal man with a hairpin trigger. He’d raged and the guards had come. Ty had not gone back. He didn’t need to. The damage was already done.
His father was as unpredictable as a tornado. And just like with a tornado, Ty knew he would cause destruction, but there was really no way to predict where or when. “Do Jake and Kee know?”
“I didn’t know how to tell them. I haven’t even told Burt yet.” She’d told Ty before her own husband.
Ty’s intake of breath was sharp. Both Jake and Kee visited their father on occasion. It had been Kee who had related to Ty that Colton had discovered that May had remarried, and his father had not taken the news well. Burt was in serious danger.
“But he won’t come here,” said May, her head bobbing as she tried to convince herself.
Ty met her gaze, offering no reassurance. He knew that his father would strive not to get caught. But he highly doubted he would resist the urge to hurt Burt and the woman he still considered his wife, divorce papers aside.
“Your father isn’t stupid, Ty,” said his mother. “He doesn’t want to go back there.”
“That doesn’t mean he won’t hurt you, Mom. He knows you won’t press charges.”
“It only makes things worse,” she said, defending her position.
And here he was, right back where he’d been when he was eighteen, trying to protect his mother, brothers and sister from his father. Only this time, his father would see Ty coming.
Going to the police would do nothing. His father had served his time and Ty knew that tribal could act only after his father committed a crime. By then it would be too late.
He needed to speak to Faras. Again. Damn.
Ty made his excuses to his mother and broke the news to Burt about the firestorm heading their way. Burt went pale. He was a good-hearted man, but not a fighter. Ty cautioned Burt to contact him if they received any more information on his father’s imminent parole. Then he whistled for Hemi, who crawled out from under his mother’s front porch and stretched. Ty opened the passenger door and folded back the seat, waiting for his dog to climb in. Then they drove directly to the Wolf Posse’s headquarters.
The gang had moved up in the world since their affiliation with the Russian crime syndicate. They no longer lived in a hollowed-out shell of a building. Faras had purchased a ranch outside the town of Koun’nde with cash. The outfit was fenced with an electric gate entry. The only one on the reservation, as far as Ty knew. Once beyond this first security barrier, Ty passed two checkpoints, although only one would have been visible to outsiders. When he was within sight of the barn and house, he was greeted by the first sentry. Today it was Henry Lavender, who stepped off the porch and raised a hand at Ty in greeting, waiting for the dust to settle before approaching his car. Ty lowered his front window with the crank.
“Hey, Ty. Heard about the fight with Chino. Man! You messed up his face. He had to go to the dentist in Darabee. He been gone for hours.” Henry offered Hemi his hand and then scratched behind the dog’s ears while Hemi lifted her chin and let her eyes roll back in her head. “She likes that,” said Lavender, grinning.
Ty stuck with the topic of conversation—Chino and the dentist. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll wire Chino’s jaw shut.”
Henry snorted with laughter, holding his fist to his mouth to stifle his mirth. He glanced over his shoulder at the closed door as if checking to see if anyone had noticed his hilarity. Then he shifted his gaze back to Ty.
Ty stepped from the ’67 GTO and signaled Hemi to stay put.
“Faras here?” Ty asked.
“Yeah, but he’s in some kind of meeting. Something’s happening, bro. I heard them mention Quinton. They didn’t sound happy.”
“What about him?”
“Dunno. Something bad, you ask me.”
“Tell him I’m here. I’ll wait.”
Henry nodded and ducked into the house. Ty glanced about at the trucks and cars parked along the drive. He had worked on most of them. He recognized Faras’s second car, a new black Mustang. He studied the cars he did not know. He wondered if any belonged to the Russian connection.
Today he was here about his own business. Business that concerned Faras as much as himself. Dangerous business. But if the opportunity arose to learn some information about the missing women from his tribe, he was not above taking advantage.
Henry returned after a few minutes and ushered him in through the living room, where Norleena Caddo and Autumn Tay lounged on the overstuffed sofa watching a reality TV show involving women as overly primped and made up as the two of them. Ty paused to issue a greeting in Tonto, which they both returned without shifting their eyes from the large-screen plasma TV. Both women were in their early twenties, pretty if you wiped off the paint smearing their faces, and both had joined the gang during high school. They reminded him of Japanese geisha, here to entertain and attend to the men and, equally, to stay out of their way when unwanted. Ty compared their vapid expressions to the purpose he saw glimmering in Beth Hoosay’s bright eyes. Were there gangs where she lived in Oklahoma? Did she have a solid home life that helped her avoid such land mines and trapdoors?
As he entered the dining room, he made a mental note to find out more about her past. She interested him and he thought it would be to his benefit to know more about where she came from.
Faras sat at the head of the rectangular wooden table. He motioned for Andre Napualani to move over and make room for Ty. Also at the table were two other members of his posse, Deoma Quintero and Eldon Kahn. Noticeable in his absence was Quinton Ford. And Chino Aria, of course, though Ty knew where he was today and the knowledge that Chino was in a dentist’s chair gave him some measure of satisfaction.
Ty took the seat vacated by Andre. Despite what his brothers, his mother, his father and tribal police believed, Ty was not a member of the Wolf Posse. Perhaps he was in a worse position because he owed Faras. But Faras also owed Ty. Friends since high school, the two had a sort of symbiotic relationship forged by need, mutual respect and common history.
“You want something to drink, Ty?” asked Faras.
“Dr Pepper.”
Faras called to Norleena Caddo to fetch the drink. A moment later Norleena clicked through the dining room on ridiculously high heels that were as impractical as her short shorts and halter top. The men watched as she opened the refrigerator and then leaned over as if knowing all eyes were upon her. She retrieved the soft drink and used the edge of the counter to pop off the cap with practiced expertise. Then she returned, swaying her hips, and slid the drink before Ty. Her mission completed, she rested a hand on Faras and asked if he needed anything else. Ty always felt nauseated at the displays of submission required by the females in the gang. Their compliance was mandatory. However, he noted that the pecking order between females was much less civilized. Some of the battles for dominance were epic. Most recently, the removal of the alpha female, Minnie Cobb, had left a power vacuum. Much as Noreen would like the spot, Ty knew that it was Jewell Tasa who seemed to be stepping into Minnie’s expensive shoes.
Faras gave Noreen a pat on the posterior and pushed her back toward the living room. Then he watched her go. Only when she was out of sight did they return to business.
“Happy to see you, bro,” said Faras.
“I’m sorry about Chino,” said Ty.
“Had it coming. She wasn’t one of ours and you told him she was your girl. Listen, we’ve had some trouble. I need to finish up with my council. You got any business for me?” asked Faras.
Ty appreciated Faras seeing him without notice and interrupting his own business for Ty. It was the kind of respect he did not afford anyone else, except his bosses, the drug distribution network and now the Russians. Ty got right to the point.
“My dad’s parole came through.” Ty watched as some of the color drained from Faras’s face.
“That so?”
Ty nodded, holding his friend’s gaze and seeing the worry there. Faras understood that his father’s release threatened them both.
“Yeah, we need to talk. Meet you out by the fire pit in ten.”
Dismissed, Ty left the council table.
“You want company?” asked Faras, motioning his head to the living room.
Ty swallowed back his disdain. “Naw. Not today.”
Or any day. Ty didn’t want a woman who was obliged to service him like he was some John. The entire practice sickened him almost as much as knowing that Faras chose who would be initiated each year, just as he picked which girls would disappear. Faras knew the tribe in a way that even their own tribal council didn’t. He knew who was vulnerable and who was not, who would be missed and who would not. He’d chosen well, but he hadn’t counted on the resourcefulness of two of his victims.
Zella Colelay had evaded capture by his posse for long enough to deliver the baby forced upon her. And a second victim, Kacey Doka, had escaped capture to prove she had not been a runaway. And that had been a problem that could not be erased.
* * *
TY SAT UNDER the newly erected pergola beside the circular masonry fire pit. He did not attend the Wolf Posse parties. He avoided this house whenever possible and met Faras only in the relatively neutral ground of the roadhouse. But today he made the exception because his father would be coming home to Turquoise Canyon.
