Walker (Bad Boys of X-Ops #1) (15 page)

“Ceremonial only. We’re not going all Wounded Knee here or international spy tonight.”

She caressed the butt of the Beretta she held in her hands, reluctant to part with it.

“And you think I have trust issues?” I asked.

“
Ugh
. Fine.” She placed the gun on my dresser.

“Now, place nice with the Natives.” I bit back my laugh when she huffed.

She started for the door, but I halted her. “Hang on.”

“I thought it was women who always dawdled.” She rolled her eyes.

Rummaging through my pack, I located the wanted item and slipped it into my palm. When I returned to Jade, I handed it to her.

She stared down at her cell phone. “What’s this for?”

“Peace offering.” I smirked.

She rolled her eyes again and tossed the phone toward her bag. “I’d rather have my Beretta,” she grumbled.

“I know.” Fitting my hands against her face, I gently rubbed my thumbs beside her lips. I leaned forward and kissed the twinkling silver piercing that was like a beauty mark. “Just wanted you to know I trust you, Jade.”

Her eyes lifted to mine. The smile spreading across her lips warmed me from the inside out.

When we entered the main room, Mom, Dad, and Madge stood from the table. My parents looked sepia-photo-op ready in their tribal garb. Madge wore a more than presentable outfit that accentuated her generous curves, and gold bangles glittered up and down her arms before she covered her upper half in the same winter jacket she’d been wearing during our journey.

“If Jade would permit me?” My mom drifted forward, her long silver hair shining.

She held up a decorative hair comb detailed with a pattern of brightly colored beads from which an abundance of feathers in every color of nature fell, and Jade assented with a nod.

“White Buffalo made this for me. And he adds a feather for every year. That’s why it’s so long. As long as our love.” She glanced at my dad, a smile flitting across her lips. “We call him Brian at home.”

“Woman. Why you have to give all my secrets away?” My father’s brusque voice boomed.

“Because that’s what thirty years with you has earned me.” Mom lifted a buffalo cape, showing it to Jade. “And my mother helped me make this when I was twelve. I felt like a real woman then. Couldn’t wait to catch me a man.” Her soft eyes twinkled. “I would be honored if you wore it.”

The tightness in my throat wasn’t just because of this homecoming.

It had a lot to do with what I’d lost, given up, what I thought I’d never find again.

“It is my honor,
Shappa
.” Jade beamed.

“And you can call her Sheila.” Dad teased Mom.

A round of laughter broke up the seriousness of the moment. We journeyed outside where the snowfall had lifted, leaving a dark velvety sky above set with brilliant stars undiluted by clouds, or smog, or cityscapes.

The soft white fluff muffled the sound of our footsteps. We made an unusual group, but it worked. Misfits. Loners. The wanted and the hunted, and the feeling of deep-rooted heritage and belonging no matter what.

Despite the ease of family and the companionship with which they’d welcomed Jade and Madge, an uncomfortable twist knotted in my stomach.

Five years.

Besides my parents, there were two people I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid no matter how much I wanted to.

I just didn’t want Jade to find out.

The music hit us first, loud and distinct. Then the lights and torches shining bright from the longhouse.

Once we entered the great meetinghouse with the ancient carved totems, people openly rubber-necked Jade. Word must’ve already traveled about how I’d referred to her, no thanks to my mom,
no doubt
.

Mahasani.

My step faltered when I saw
them
. There’d be no duck and dive this time.

That twist in my stomach tightened like a screw. The pain I’d sought to outrun slammed back into me like a fist.

My former in-laws moved toward me.

With a last squeeze of Jade’s hand, I cut away from the pack, hoping to head them off.

Lost

I COULDN’T IGNORE THE tears on Wachiwi’s lined face or the ghosts hiding in her welling-over deep brown eyes. Before, they’d always been merry and slightly mischievous, so like Kimimela’s. I couldn’t disguise the glut of emotion resurfacing when tall, sturdy Hotah took me into his hard hug.

My chest ached. The anguish, the wound of my past reopening from the embraces of my mother- and father-in-law.

The clawing sense of guilt and grief suffocated me. Something I only relegated by being on hyper-drive, danger-watch twenty-four hours a day so it didn’t consume me whole.

So I could forget.

So I could pretend
that
life,
that
loss, had never happened.

“I’m sorry.” Stepping back, I dropped my head in shame. “I couldn’t face you. I was less than a man.”

Hotah’s strong hand on my shoulder guided me back to him, and I’d never felt more young, more unsure.

“I’m sorry about Kimmy and . . .” Her name raked from my throat, and I swallowed over the lump lodged there.

I hadn’t said her name for years.

Thinking it had been like drawing a sharp knife over my own flesh.

My flesh and blood.

“We know that, Wakiza. It was an accident. Don’t you think we know that?” Wachiwi pulled me around.

“I should’ve been more careful. If I hadn’t—”

Wachiwi grabbed my chin. “You stop that. Five years you’ve been gone. We have lost something that can never be replaced, but we haven’t lost you,
chinkshi
.”

She called me son, and I wiped my nose on my sleeve like I was a nine-year-old runt again.

Suddenly the old animation, the gleaming mischievousness was back in her eyes.

Wachiwi surprised me, asking me, “Is it true? About this Jade?”

“I’m sorry.” I apologized a third time. “I didn’t want to.”

I felt Jade’s watchful eyes on me and decided ignoring her in this moment would be the best bet, because I’d never felt more flayed open in my life.

Wachiwi tipped into my embrace, and I tucked my arms around her. “We only want you to be happy, Wakiza. You need to forgive yourself.”

“I’m not sure I know how.”

“That one looks like a good start.” Hotah smiled, wiping at his eyes. “It’s okay to love again.”

The hot sheen of tears brimmed in my eyes, but I blinked them back. “I haven’t told Jade any of it. Not yet. We have . . . issues.”

“Everyone has issues. The best part is working them out together.” Hotah moved to stand beside his wife, and she released me to take his hand.

“I hear that.” I nearly grinned before relapsing into private torment. “I was worried about seeing you again.”

“And we’ve all been worried about
never
seeing you again.” Wachiwi patted my face familiarly. “Don’t stay away so long next time.”

Relief lifted the stone in my chest as I rejoined Jade and Madge. Veritable magpies surrounded them, women and girls inspecting their hair and dress, asking them about where they came from, where they’d traveled, and if they had boyfriends or husbands.

The vibrations of the past meeting the present in all ways.

Other elders filed inside, granted their moments of respect they deserved. Children filled the room, their high voices like sparkles of laughter. Festivities in the air for this nation that had seen decay, depression, poverty.

More folks arrived wearing a mix of ceremonial dress and everyday clothing . . . a rebirth, a meld of modern and tradition.

A new kind of harmony
.

Not just found in the musicians, who blended Lakota love flutes and hand drums with rock star rhythm including Mahpee on the bass guitar.

Several iPhones flashed in my direction, probably with the hashtag
old school
, but I didn’t care. Unless of course they were posting that shit on Instagram.

Mahpee loped toward me. He’d been my best friend, Kimmy’s
thibló
, her older brother.

Part of me wanted to run and hide. He’d been there that day. He’d seen it all.

But I wasn’t gonna be less of a man this time.

I straightened as he approached, trying to smile.

“
Hépela
!” He wore three braids, a big quill chestplate to go with his faded jeans . . . and a man on his arm.

Foregoing my hand raised in greeting, he yanked me against him. “You shit. I missed you.”

I slapped him on the back. “Didn’t know if I’d be welcomed here.”

He drew back and looked at me like maybe crazy was catching. “We can’t bury the past.” A shadow flew across his black irises. “And we can’t live in it.

“You kind of dropped off the face of the earth, my friend.”

“Exactly that.” On the run. Hiding out. From myself.

Mahpee grinned. “Did that too. Until I decided they could take me or leave me.” He snagged the guy closer, kissing the side of his neck. “He’s mine.”

“No need to go territorial.” Walking away, the broad-shouldered dude skated a wink in Mahpee’s direction.

“He’s your bear?” I did a double take.

Mahpee broadly laughed, launching an arm around my shoulders. “
I’m
the bear. He’s my cub. Just wait until you get a load of his name.”

“How the hell did I not know you’re gay?”

“You been gone a long time. It’s called living. Life. Being.” He dragged me toward the chow line. “Where the hell have you been anyway?”

Trying to get myself killed any way I could.

But not anymore.

I stared at Jade. Of course she already had a full plate of food and was digging in and laughing between bites.

“She’s the one, yeah?” Mahpee skimmed his eyes over Jade when I couldn’t look away from her.

“She’s the one,” I agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten—”

“It ain’t about forgetting. It’s about forgiving.” He took over dumping venison stew, a hominy mixture, and fry bread on my plate.

“That’s what your mom
said.”

“Because she’s damn smart. Hardships hurt.” My joking friend who’d always been so full of life became philosophical. “And sometimes hardships heal us. Turn us around, make us see a different direction. Sometimes it’s good and right to follow the scent of something new.” He winked. “Like on a hunt.”

“I hunt a lot.”
No lie.

“I bet you do. You were always the best tracker. Now let’s get this
scran
down our throats,
huh
?”

“Where’d you learn that word?”

Mahpee patted his chest with a huge hand. “I’m not just a traveling troubadour.”

“Troubadour?” I barked with laughter. “Caterwauler more likely.”

He cuffed me on the back of the head, snickering. “Watch it. We’ll be dueling at dawn . . . with bows and arrows.”

I chuckled and looked up, my gaze magnetized by Jade. She sat still and silent, watching me, a different sort of smile on her lips, one that made my heart knock around inside my chest.

Mahpee and I sat down with our plates balanced on our legs in the circle including Madge and Jade who both somehow seemed to fit right in. I glanced around, savoring the sights, and scents, the sounds I’d missed for so long.

The hollow echo of pain, like a distant drumbeat, finally lessened a little.

Jade pigged out while Madge ate more daintily. Jade and I both knew from experience when you were on the run you never knew when your next hot meal might come along. I hopped up to refill her plate with fry bread and the stew before she could object. I’d discovered two foolproof methods for keeping her quiet: kissing her and feeding her.

Madge had struck up a conversation with my mom and dad and a few of the elders who squatted around us. Their talk drifted from displacement to the loss of sacred lands the US government sought to make retribution for with money that sat unused and unwanted in a DC bank account.

It was one reason I worked not for the federal payroll but for the people who ran the high stakes, deep cover missions to oust corruption around the world.

Or maybe that was just an excuse.

And possibly a lie built on a house of cards, considering Madge’s predicament and both her and Jade’s unlawful presence in America.

“We are not so different. Protecting our nations,” Madge mused.

“Wouldn’t know about that.” I chuckled. “The company I keep is questionable.” I shot a sly glance at Jade.

“Walker. You’ll pay for that later.”

Grabbing Jade around the waist, I pulled her closer to me. “Can’t wait for you to take advantage of me.”

Mahpee’s boyfriend approached, breaking up the powwow. He sat down and dropped a bold kiss on Mahpee’s lips.

I wanted to do the same damn thing to Jade.

“This is my man.” Mahpee sat hip to hip with him, a wicked smile turning his lips. “Smooth Arrow.”

I choked on my drink.

Smooth Arrow
grinned. “I know, right? I was born queer.”

I shook his hand. “Well, if the notch fits . . .”

“Is that what you straight boys call it?” Arrow howled with laughter, his lean face full of amusement.

“We’re getting married in the spring.” For once, big, brawny Mahpee looked bashful and beholden. “I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I.” Arrow kissed him slowly and softly.

Jade’s hand curled around mine.

The quiet moment drew us together, and her cheeks heightened in color.

I bent toward her, intent on tasting her, touching her, but the eating had died down and the music amped up, and Mahpee broke his lip-lock with Arrow.

Swiveling his head around, the asshole decided to torment me.
“Come on. You’re up.”

“I can’t. I’m out of practice.”

“Ain’t no practice and never was. It’s in your veins, Wakiza.”

I stared straight ahead, heat rising up my neck to my cheeks.

“Are you blushing, Walker?” Teasing evident in Jade’s voice, she continued, “What’s the matter? Afraid you don’t have any moves?”

Coaxed, cajoled, then outright ridiculed into performing.

Great.

“I’ve got the moves, lady,” I grumbled, rising to my feet.

Throwing off my shirt, I joined the other men at the front of the meetinghouse. The drums started, a rapid rhythm. The Fast War Dance.

We chanted, moving along to the beats and the bells. Sweat dripped down my bare chest, and I closed my eyes.
Mahpee was right. The music coursed through my veins like the very blood in my body.

Singing . . . circling . . . floating—
almost soaring
—that flying feeling, the high without drugs—being connected to the land at the same time.

Belonging.

Sheer belonging.

I was connected to the earth and my body, my body that wanted Jade more than anything. As the drums and flutes pounded higher, hotter, fluttered faster, louder, the dance was less about war, more about wanting.

Wanting.

Jade. Jade. Always now, Jade.

She was in my sights, bent forward, eyes captivated, her hands at her chest as if to hold every overwhelming emotion inside.

I dipped my head in her direction and danced from my soul.

I almost tranced-out, only coming back to earth when the final drumbeats reverberated through the hall.

Grinning and laughing, I pounded Mahpee on the back as he shouted close to my ear, “See? Told ya. Just like riding a horse. Lakota down to the bones.”

I weaved through the women who would perform their traditional dance next. Jade stood at the edge of the crowd.

Her gaze roaming over my body, she bit into her bottom lip.

Jesus
. I knew that look. She was horny for me. Maybe I’d have to do the dance thing more often.

When I reached her, she stroked her fingertips down my wet chest. Her light touch replaced the chills from the music with a new cascade of sensation that shot a spike of heat right to my groin. Her palm slowly slid down my abs, which clenched in her wake.

“You don’t do anything by halves, do you?” Softest green, her irises were dreamy.

I lifted her hand in mine, pressing it to my mouth. “You should know.”

“The next time you do the tango, it’s with me,” she whispered against the corner of my lips.

“That wasn’t the tango.” I strived to keep my cock under control as she lowered her head to suck on my chin.

“I know.” Her hand skimmed down the muscles of my arm until she captured my fingers. “Are you going to take me to bed now?”