Protected Pt. 03

"Thank you." He punched the button to end the call.

"We're going to fly?"

"No. Rent a car."

"Ah." Draping Mafic over my shoulder, I pulled Colt's pistol out of my pants and handed it to him. As I wiped a seat clear of glass, he tucked the pistol away in the small his back. When I sat down in my newly cleared seat, Mafic tried to hop down, but I held him, and after a moment of me gently scratching his ears, cheeks, and chin, he relaxed and settled more fully into my lap.

For the next ten minutes, Colt paced in a tight circle at the front of the coach, clearly watching for threats.

"Here comes the taxi," he said.

A blue Honda Odyssey pulled up alongside, stopped, and the side door began sliding open. Colt went out first, did a quick check, then waved me out. I crawled into the van and moved to the seat behind the driver. Colt crawled in immediately behind me and dropped his single small bag into the floor beside my computer between the seats.

"Holy cow! What happened?" the driver cried as he looked at Colt, his eyes wide.

"Road rage."

"Are you kidding me! What'd you do?"

"I forgot to signal and a woman in a Miata thought I cut her off."

The driver stared at Colt for a long moment. "Naw, man! What really happened?"

"Really... that's it. We're in a bit of a hurry."

The driver continued to stare at Colt, but then he must have realized he wasn't going to get anything else out of him and pushed something to start the door closing as he turned away. I looked down, a tiny smile on my lips, as I scratched Mafic's ears.

-oOo-

Mafic was a good rider and had fallen asleep in the back seat of the rented Mustang as we rumbled north and east along I-35. We were two hours into the five-hour drive when I finally decided I had to call Dad and tell him what happened. I'd been dreading this since we left the airport.

"I don't want to do this," I said softly.

"It'll be okay," Colt said, taking my hand. "You're going to have to do it sooner or later, so better to get it over with."

I nodded, selected Dad's personal number from my contact list, and pressed the button to dial before putting the call on speaker. "Dad?"

"Hey, Baby Girl. Where are you?"

"On the way home. Dad," I paused a moment as I summoned my courage. "Someone tried to kill me again. I'm okay, but--"

"What?" he roared from the phone. "You said you trusted these guys and nobody would be able to get close to you again!"

"They attacked the RV! They came right up to us!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. A little bruised up from getting out of there, but yes, I'm okay. The RV is totaled. It's shot full of holes, and Colt had to crash through two trucks to get away."

"What?" he roared again.

"It was the only way!"

"I don't care about the damned RV! You're not hurt?"

"No. I'm okay. The DBMC, they saved me. Two men are in the hospital, and three more are dead, but they saved me."

"Where are you now?"

"I'm with Colt. We rented a car and are on our way home."

"I want to see both of you the moment you get here!"

"Wait a second," I said as Colt began shaking his head. I placed my thumb over the microphone. "What?"

"Not tonight. Tomorrow. I don't want to hear... I can't deal with it right now. If your dad gets in my face over this, I'm afraid I'll..." He paused as his lips thinned. "Tomorrow would just be better," he finally said.

I nodded as I placed my hand on his arm. "I understand." I brought the phone back to my ear. "Tonight's not good. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Where are you? When will you get into town?"

"It doesn't matter," I said. "I'm tired, I have Mafic with me, and I just want to go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I want to see both of you."

"Okay... we'll see you tomorrow."

He was quiet for a long moment. "Okay. Fine. I expect you in my office by eight."

"Okay. We'll be there."

Dad let out a long sigh. "Thank God you're okay. We'll take care of this. Can he hear me?"

"Yes."

"Take me off speaker."

"No. Anything you have to say, I want him to hear."

He was quiet for another long moment. "No. We'll discuss this in the morning." That's what I thought. He isn't going to bad mouth Colt or the BDMC in front of me without hearing about it.

"Okay. Love you, Dad."

"I love you, too," he said. "We've got to find out what the hell this is all about and put a stop to it."

"I hope so. The other time scared me, but this time, it was awful. Tom Fisher died because I couldn't stop the bleeding, and two more were killed before we could get the RV started." I swallowed hard. "Four men have died because of me."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered. "Just get home, and be careful. I don't know what's going on out there, but I'm damned sure going to find out."

"I will."

"Call me when you get home so I know you're safe."

"Okay. Love you. Bye."

"Bye, Baby Girl."

I hung up the phone and stared at it a moment. "Fuck... pardon my French."

.

.

.

COLT

"Okay, Dad. Bye," Willow said as she ended the call and pointed. "That's it, 2415."

I turned the car into the drive and stopped in front of the garage door of a two-story brick townhome barely wider than the double garage and front door and window. Somehow, Mafic knew he was home. He'd woken up when I'd stopped to open the gate leading into her neighborhood, crawled into her lap as we drove down her street, and was now meowing his excitement as he stared out of the windshield. Willow's home was an end unit, with a small expanse of grass in front and a larger area along the side that looked like a utility right of way.

"Let me have your key and I'll open the door."

"There's a keypad on the garage... one nine seven three enter."

"Stay in the car," I said as I stepped out and entered the number. As the door rumbled up, I returned to the car and pulled it inside. The large two-car garage was empty save for a bicycle and a row of shelves along one wall that contained neatly labeled plastic boxes. When the car stopped, she started to get out until I took her arm and gently restrained her.

"Wait." I exited the car and pushed the button to lower the door. While the door was closing the last foot, she opened her door and stepped out, cuddling the cat as she bumped the door closed with a hip check. It was nearly eleven, and she looked exhausted.

She unlocked the door into the house from the garage, shoved it open, and turned Mafic loose inside. Bag in hand, I started to follow her in, but instead of entering, she turned on the water at a valve and then stepped to the nearby hot water tank and twisted the thermostat. I heard the woosh of the burner igniting as she turned away. I followed her into the house.

It was uncomfortably warm inside, and she went directly to the thermostat on the wall and punched a button to start the air conditioning running.

"Bedrooms are upstairs," she said as I continued to watch with amusement as she proceeded directly to the kitchen.

She picked up a white bowl with pawprints stenciled on the side from the counter beside the sink, started the water running, and after checking its temp with her finger, she filled the bowl and set it on the floor. A second, smaller matching bowl that I assumed was to contain Mafic's food was placed on the floor beside it.

"You've got a regular routine."

"Yeah," she said as she stood from placing the second bowl beside the first. "I've had some practice."

Willow's home looked small on the outside, but it was much larger on the inside, the house narrow but deep like a typical townhome. My bag in hand, I tromped up the wooden steps to the second floor, the steps dumping me out directly in front of the master suite, a large room that took up the entire back third of the house. Like the rest of her house, it contained simple, elegant furniture, but what I found most interesting was her bed. It had no foot board and the mattress seemed to float above the floor without visible support.

I turned and walked into the guest room at the front of the house where I tossed my bag onto the bed. Taking a quick peek in the other rooms, I found a third, tiny, windowless bedroom she'd converted into an office, a bathroom, and a laundry room. I heard the thump of a car door closing as I paused at the thermostat, studied it a moment, and then adjusted the temperature before returning downstairs. She had her laptop out on the kitchen counter and was staring at it intently.

"I turned the A C on upstairs."

"Good, thank you. That was my next stop." She nodded at the device. "Checking to see if it's broken."

I looked around the large kitchen, family room, and dining area. The three rooms occupied the entire downstairs and were open to form one large area with wood floors throughout, an island with pots and pans hanging from a rack above providing visual separation for the family room and kitchen. Like upstairs, the decoration was sparse but tasteful. There were a few paintings on the wall for color, a large ruddy red and beige rug in the center of the family room containing caramel colored leather furniture, and the recessed and directional track lighting gave the house a modern and dramatic flair.

"Nice place," I said as I admired the bright white cabinets, dark marble counter tops, and stainless-steel appliances.

"I like it. The best part is I don't have to worry with it. I have a cleaning lady who comes in once a week, and I pay a guy to keep the yard, so I know when I come home everything will be taken care of."

I stepped into the kitchen and peered out as she swiped her finger rapidly over the touch pad and typed on the keyboard. The fenced backyard was small and dominated by a large patio made from cobblestones. In the corner of the yard was a raised and covered patio, with a grouping of chairs arraigned under a large fan. Raised beds made from the same stone as the patio meandered along the six-foot, white vinyl fence on the right and left sides, and along the higher brick wall at the back, softening the edge and leaving a strip of perfectly maintained grass in the middle. The beautifully landscaped yard was made more magical by hidden lighting and spots that drew the eye to various plants and features. The house was very Willow... beautiful, elegant, and yet at the same time, welcoming.

"It doesn't seem to be broken," she said, drawing my attention from the yard.

"Good."

She blew out an exhausted sounding sigh. "I'm going to bed," she said as she poked at her computer.

"Yeah, I think I'll turn in, too."

I waited until the screen on her computer switched off. She shoved it into the bag, and started to sling it over her shoulder, but I took it from her.

"Thanks," she said with a yawn.

We trudged upstairs, Willow leading the way, but Mafic scampered up ahead of both of us, sounding like he weighed five times what he probably did. She reached for the bag. "I'll put it in your office," I said as I reached the top of the steps.

A faint smile danced over her lips. "Thanks. Just put it on the desk somewhere. 'night, Colt."

"Goodnight."

I went into my bedroom and closed the door. I needed to check on Goose and Big Dick, so I pulled out my phone and dialed Deb, Goose's wife, while I waited for the room to cool down. The call went to voicemail, and I had to force myself to not read more into it than was warranted. I next dialed Haley with the same result. Despite my efforts, I was becoming concerned. I was debating calling Limpkin, or another of my brothers, when my phone vibrated. I nearly wilted with relief. It was Deb.

"Hey. I was calling to check on Goose," I said.

"We're home," she said, her voice cool. "He's sleeping."

"What about Big Dick? Heard anything?"

"Haley is staying with him in the hospital tonight. They think he'll probably be able to come home tomorrow or the next day."

"That's good news. Is everything okay?" I asked, "Other than the obvious I mean." Deb sounded... different... than I expected.

"Everything is just fucking great. How's the bitch?"

The hostility in her voice caught me off guard. "You need to check your attitude, Deb," I said firmly. "She didn't cause this. If you want to be pissed at somebody, you should be pissed at me."

She was quiet for a long moment. "All I know is Ken has a badly broken arm and is going to miss a lot of work, Reed is in the hospital, four of my friends are now widows, and it all started when you got involved with that bitch... so pardon me if I don't feel like inviting her to afternoon tea."

"That's on me, not Willow," I said, keeping my tone carefully neutral.

"That's not all that's on you. When we need you the most, rather than being here for your friends, your brothers, you go off to fucking Houston with her?"

"Deb, I know you're upset, and you have every right to be, but we took the job. I had to make sure she got to Houston safely. Would you prefer she dies, and then everything that's happen so far is for nothing?"

"What I'd prefer, Colt, is if you hadn't dragged us into this shit at all, then none of this would have happened. I'm wondering if we'd wouldn't be better off if you just stayed with that bitch there in Houston."

"I'll be back, maybe as early as tomorrow. If that's what the brothers want, I won't fight it."

"Yeah, but that won't bring any of them back, will it?" she said before the line went dead.

I stood, holding the phone for a long moment. I wanted to be angry with Deb, but she was right. It was all on me and I felt sick. "Fuck..." I grunted as I tossed the phone into the center of the bed.

Using the bathroom off the hall, I brushed my teeth, my conversation with Deb playing on a continuous loop in my head. I couldn't fix this. Maybe everyone would be better off if I walked away from the club. I was rinsing my mouth when Willow appeared in the bathroom door wearing a pale blue night shirt with the words Don't take a Geologist for Granit in bold letters on the front.

"Will you hold me tonight?" she asked, her face twisting as if she were struggling not to cry.

"You okay?" I asked as I dried my hands and face.

"No," she whimpered as her face scrunched even more. "I was getting ready for bed and I..." She looked down, her misery clear on her face. She looked up again and sniffed as her eyes welled with tears. "I started thinking about Fish, Grace, and Juice... and Lilly and Jacob... and Packard's funeral." I began to speak but she wasn't finished. "Packard, Fish, Grace, and Juice are all dead, and Goose and Big Dick are injured, and it's all because of me." She held her hands up slightly and looked at them. "There's so much blood on my hands."

She'd endured so much these last few weeks... we all had. I went to her and pulled her into an embrace. Her control broke with my touch. Her arms surrounded me and held me tight as she began to weep softly.

"No. Don't say that. It's not your fault. You did nothing to cause this," I whispered.

"I'm so, so sorry for everything that's happened."

"It's not your fault," I repeated. I almost said 'It's my fault' but held my tongue, not wanting her to think she had to comfort me.

"I feel like it's my fault."

"Shhhh..." I hissed softly. "It's not and you know it."

She nodded as she sniffed. "Will you hold me? I don't want to be alone."

"Nobody knows where you are. You're safe now," I murmured as I silently prayed I wasn't mistaken.

She nodded but didn't release her embrace. "I know... I just don't want to be alone." I didn't move until she pulled herself out of my embrace, stepped back, and wiped her eyes. "Sorry."

"It's okay. You've been through a lot."

She nodded. "You'll still hold me?"

"As long as you want." She stepped back and as I followed her to her bedroom, I felt a stirring within me, but then I thought of Fish, Grace, and Juice, and what Deb had said, and Packard... and the feeling passed. She went to the right side of the bed, so I moved to the left. I shrugged out of my colors, and as I'd already removed my boots, I started to lay down.

"You're going to sleep like that?" she asked as she crawled into the bed, still wearing her shirt.

"How would you have me sleep?"

"Not like that." I hesitated and then stripped to my underwear. When I paused, a tiny smile danced across her lips. "Better."

She snuggled in close to my side as I lay on my back, my arm closing around her shoulders, my hand on her back caressing her slowly as my other hand took her hand laying on my chest.

After a moment she sniffed, and I could tell she was crying again, though she made no noise and didn't move. It was still uncomfortably warm in the room, and I was beginning to sweat with the combined heat of her body and the room, but I forced myself to remain still, not wanting her to think I was pulling away because she was crying. I said nothing, wishing I could do or say something to ease her guilt, but I had no words to give her that I hadn't already said. I hoped her ordeal was behind her now, and her life could return to normal. Houston was too far from the Mexican border for the cartels to have much direct influence, unlike Rio Lago or Laredo. With professional protection she should be safe... I hope she'll be safe.

Mafic joined us on the bed, settling on my chest to purr into my face. After a long time, she relaxed into sleep, and as her breathing became deep and regular, I pulled her in tighter, fighting against my own grief. Thoughts of Fish, Grace, Juice, and Packard, and Deb's cutting words, tore at me in the quiet darkness. I'd led our club into a fight we were unprepared for, and four of my brothers had paid the ultimate price.

With Willow tucked in warm and soft, I tried to draw strength from the fact she was still alive and, physically at least, unharmed. It was some comfort, but it wasn't enough. I refused to cry, but I couldn't stop the maelstrom of thoughts as I listened to her quiet breathing and Mafic's throbbing purr.