“I ain’t got nothing better. I’m in over my head. Have been for a month.”
“I know, kiddo, but you got this. We got your back, I swear to God.”
“Yeah.” It didn’t stop him being scared, because God knew he was. He’d never once shot nobody. He’d pulled the gun once, when he was nineteen and Landon and him had gotten into this stupid fucking fight with a bunch of drunk Mexicans at a cowboy bar, but he hadn’t used it.
He was fixin’ to have to, though, and on a man he knew.
Please, Landon. I can’t pray to Jesus about this, on killing a man, so I’m calling on you and Addie. Please help me aim true and get Chloe home.
The drive took forever and took no time at all. Holden found his hands shaking by the time they parked.
Crazy took his hand and squeezed. “You got this. You have to, for that baby.”
“Yes, sir.” He got out of the vehicle, pistol slid in the space where his jeans didn’t touch his ass. “I’m here!”
There wasn’t nothing but an echo. No other vehicles were visible, but that meant nothing.
“Hello, you motherfucker? You here?”
“You bring the money?” Once again, he didn’t recognize the voice, but it was there, loud and off somehow.
“Yeah.” Holden pulled the bag out of the truck.
“Put it in the broke window there in the front of the building.”
“No. You bring me Chloe, and then you get your money, not before.”
He heard Chloe go off at the sound of his voice, her cries loud and strident. Furious. He almost laughed. God, she was right there.
That’s it, baby girl. You know who loves you.
“No way. Bring us the money, and put it in here where we can see it.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He’d had enough twenties in his wallet to make a good show, but it wouldn’t fool anyone for long.
“I want to see her. I came without the cops. You can see that. Give me a reason to hand this over.”
A guy stepped out of the gas station, a rifle in his hand, scary George Bush mask over his face. Figured.
“That’s not Chloe, asshole. Try again.”
At least two. There were at least two.
“No, but it can sure make her lose another daddy. That what you want, man?”
“What I want is to see Chloe.” This fucker didn’t really believe he was scared of dying, did he?
“Kade? Kade Johnson? What the hell are you up to, son?” Crazy came out from behind the truck, shotgun barrel trained on the man. Oh fuck, Crazy knew who this guy was even with a mask?
“Where’s Chloe?” Holden demanded. He needed his baby girl.
“Fuck. Goddamn it, Crazy. You have to know who I am.” The man with the gun panicked. Holden saw it in the way the rifle wavered, then began to rise.
“Hey! Hey! Look at me! Where the fuck is Chloe!” Holden felt his chest begin to tighten, the pressure threatening to choke him, and he fought it.
No. No way.
“Run!” Kade shouted, and Holden knew damned well the asshole wasn’t hollering at him. He started toward the kidnapper, reaching for his pistol, and he heard the boom just as Crazy hit him from the side, like the bullfighter he was.
“Fuck!” He hit the ground hard, the sound of tires squealing screaming in his ear. “No! Crazy!”
Crazy pushed himself up, and Holden could see the dark shape of his pistol right there, even as he fought to run after the truck, after Chloe.
The sound of the shot was right by Holden’s ear, the report loud enough to spin him, and the bastard Kade dropped the rifle, hands clasped over his throat.
“No.” He ran over to Kade, grabbing the son of a bitch by the shirtfront. “No. Where are they? Where are they going? Who is it? Please! She’s just a baby!”
The bastard just gurgled, staring up at him with huge eyes.
“No. No, Crazy, help me!”
When he didn’t get an answer, he looked back, and Crazy was on his knees, swaying, blood pouring down his chest, coating his shirt.
“No. No.” His chest clenched, and he fought for a breath. “No. No more. Crazy.” Holden dropped the dead weight in his hands and stumbled over. “Crazy.”
“Shh. Shh, Landon. I swear, son. You make my head hurt.”
“Crazy, please.” Holden scrabbled in Crazy’s pocket, desperate for the phone.
“I swear, y’all boys look nothing alike, for being identical.”
He pushed the emergency call button with slick fingers. “Help me! Please God, somebody help me!”
JESUS
fucking Christ on a pogo stick. What a giant cowpatty this had all turned into. Norman forced himself to drive slow back to the hotel, to not attract attention.
He almost put the damned kid in the bathtub and left, but he didn’t want to have to worry about fingerprints and shit when they found her.
“Shut up,” he told the baby. “Just shut the fuck up, or I will smother you. I need to think.”
Kade was gone. Norman knew it. He’d heard the shots, even if he couldn’t see what was going on. He itched to call Shiloh, but he couldn’t risk it. Not with the kid at the ranch.
The baby just screamed and screamed, the damn thing like a friggin’ alarm, and the fucking dogs outside howling, making things crazy, needling into his brain. Norman gritted his teeth, the idea that he’d never see that money starting to grow in his head.
Jesus, this was supposed to be easy. McCoughey had tons of ready cash, all this land, and he wanted the damn baby.
He hadn’t thought about what the hell he’d do when he couldn’t figure out how to call McCoughey and had to go through the Sheffields and the feds and….
God.
The door to the motel room busted open, Shiloh standing there, about as white as a sheet. “What happened, man? Crazy’s dead! Y’all were supposed to be done with this!”
Crazy? Crazy McPhail? Fuck a doodle doo. The bullfighter was famous in their circles. Goddamn it.
He spun around and clocked the kid right in the face. “Why the fuck didn’t you warn us, you piece of shit?”
Shiloh staggered, then pushed past, hand clamped to his face. “Where is she—you put her in the bathtub? God.”
“It’s lucky it’s not dead!”
“We have to take her back. Just put her back in the house and run. It can be over.”
“That’s nuts. We can’t do that now. They killed Kade.”
Shiloh whirled around and poked him in the chest. “Kade got himself killed trying to shoot Holden Sheffield. Now you tell me who’s nuts. I’m taking her.” Shiloh started toward the bathroom.
He took the pistol out of his back pocket. “No. No, I really don’t think so.”
Thank God there wasn’t no one in the rooms on either side of them, but the report of the gun sure was loud.
LACHLAN
sat quietly through most of the afternoon. There was the whole uproar when Holden called 911 and the feds got word. Then the wailing and gnashing of teeth had started over that Crazy bloke. Lachlan felt sorry for his friends and family, but he barely knew the man, so he stayed out of the way, trying not to intrude.
No, it wasn’t until Holden came back from the hospital, signing papers and getting checked out, after the debriefing by the law enforcement folks and the stern warnings about vigilante shit….
Lachlan bided his time through all of that. Then he hunted Holden’s arse down at the big house, needing to say his piece.
Holden was in the back of the house, in the little room that had been the twins’, standing with his face to the window.
Lachlan rapped his knuckles against the doorframe, figuring it was only fair to warn Holden he was there.
Holden glanced over at him, and for half a second Lachlan felt like he was looking at Mr. Brandon.
“I’m sorry about your friend.” That seemed important, that he tell Holden that. So much bloody loss.
“Me too.” Holden looked up at him, and it hit him like a gut punch. It could have been Holden.
Hands clenching into fists, Lachlan strode into the room, marching over until he towered over Holden. “You could have been killed! What in all buggering fuck were you thinking?”
“I was trying to get Chloe back.”
“Were you? Because you did a piss-poor job. And you almost got shot! Chloe needs you alive.” Lachlan needed Holden kicking too.
“Fuck you.” Holden shoved him back against the wall, rattling his bones. “I did my best! What was I supposed to do, you fuck? What was I supposed to do? They were watching me!”
“I don’t know! We have an army of law people out there. Not to mention more cowboys than anyone can use! I was there. You could have asked me to help.”
“What? And you were going to let me just go? You were going to just say nothing?” Holden poked his chest with every word.
“No. I would never put you in danger.” What was so hard to understand about this?
“Then what was I supposed to do? I didn’t know what the fuck to do! I’ve never done this before. I’ve never fucking been so alone in my whole goddamn life!”
“But you’re not!” It was his turn to swing Holden about, smacking the man into the wall in turn. “You have me and Ryan and your family and the cowboys. Let us help! Bloody listen to us.”
“They trusted me with her.” The whisper was broken, and Lachlan snarled, his own soul tearing in two.
“They didn’t even trust me enough to tell me she was alive, Holden. They didn’t even give me that, and now she’s gone.”
“I’m going to find her. I’m going to get her back if it kills me.”
He slammed Holden again, hard. “Not Chloe, you bloody moron! Ades! My fucking baby sister! She’s dead, and I never got to tell her how much I loved her, never got to say good-bye. I don’t even know why.”
He roared, losing the ability to make words at some point, the pain in his gut too much to bear.
Holden let him batter and yell, sob and shake, and the tiny motherfucker took it like a brick wall.
These Texans were made of pure steel.
They ended up on the floor, Holden staring at him, eyes like holes in a blanket. Christ, he was done in.
“Better?” Holden asked.
“Not really.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
“You can’t just run off, mate. You can’t.” Lachlan was fond. Too fond for words to tell. He touched Holden’s cheek. “You know, they say you can’t trust a relationship that starts under extreme stress, but I want you to stick about, okay?”
“Shit, is there a gay cowboy that doesn’t start a relationship under extreme stress?”
“No.” That surprised a laugh out of him. “Okay, so just be safe. Be careful, okay? You have help. Anything you need.”
“I wasn’t trying to be a hero. I’m not a hero. That was Landon. They were watching us. There’s got to be three of them. Someone here, Kade, and whoever has Chloe. They called Crazy’s phone.”
“And you told the coppers all this, right?”
“Yeah. I told them everything. Kade was aiming at me. Crazy took the bullet.”
Bloody oath, it was all about the guilt with this one. Holden had this need to be… what? Lachlan didn’t think it was a hero complex. The provider. Protector. Hell, he got it, even. He was the oldest, the one who ran the station, but Lachlan thought guilt was overrated.
“I hate that he was your friend and he’s gone, but I’m glad you’re here.” The best he could do was give Holden the truth.
“Landon was there. Crazy talked to him.”
Lachlan had no idea what to say to that. His opinions on the afterlife tended to be amorphous at best. He just pulled Holden into a hug, needing the contact.
A hard knock came to the outside door, and they looked up, shocked as fuck to see a milk white face at the window in the door.
“What the everloving fuck?” Holden pulled away and headed for the door. When he yanked the door open, the kid tumbled in, landing with a thump on the floor, a filthy, matted golden retriever following him inside.
“What the fuck? Colorado! Colorado, where’ve you been?” Holden was addressing the dog, Lachlan thought.
“Holden,” the kid croaked, reaching for Holden’s ankle. “Norman has her.”
“Go. Get… Ryan. Someone. Anyone.” Holden knelt down, frowning deeply. “Where is she, kid? Where is the baby?”
Lachlan took off his shirt and shoved it at Holden. “Put that on his wound. I’ll call Dez.” He didn’t want to leave the room, but he stepped to one side, dialing his security manager.
“Motel. Dewdrop. Room nine. ’M so sorry about Crazy.”
“Stay with him. I’m going to the hotel.” Holden rose.
“You are not,” Lachlan barked. “Dez. We need emergency medical. Shot kid who says Chloe is at the Dewdrop in room nine. I reckon it’s a motel.”
“Where the fucking hell are you?” Dez sounded right livid.
“The big house. Kid knew where to knock. That outside door in the twins’ old bedroom.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” The line went dead, and in minutes, there were cops and medical and Ryan had Holden’s arm in one hard hand, fingers digging in. The possessive touch made Lachlan want to growl some, to be honest.
“You stay your ass right here, you got it?” Ryan growled. “No running off to play hero.”
“Fuck you. Colorado came home. Harry’s got to be with Chloe, and they have to be close. Closer than the lake. I know it, Lefty.”
“Then we’ll find her. And the dog. Us. You’re going to stay here and not fuck this up.”
“You aren’t fucking listening, Ryan!”
Holden got a hard shake, and this time Lachlan actually took a step forward, ready to intervene.
“I’m serious. You are staying your ass right here, or I will knock you into next week.”
Lachlan opened his mouth to protest, but Dez was there, pulling him aside. “The mums are still at the hospital. The dads are here in the sunroom. Stay here and man the phones. The best thing you can do is sit on Holden. Got it?”
“Yeah, but you and me, Dez, we’re gonna have a talk about bosses and such.” He gave Dez a hard glare and got an unrepentant grin in return.
“Yeah. Suck my arse, mate, and do as you’re told.”
“I’ll hold down the house.” Even if it killed him. Lachlan was sick to death of sitting on his hands.
“Good man. Ryan, you’re with me.”
Ryan spoke to Holden again, then headed out. “Come on, then.”