The Ballad of Decker Crane Ch. 12

Kay made a face. Decker agreed. Some men just didn't understand women.

"I am not yours, Cab Hollis," Chione said, predictably, if you thought about it.

And that was a terrible place to start, too. A woman had to know you were theirs. You had to be clear about that part from the beginning. But no, Cab was going to call it all into question right away.

"I belong to myself," Chione seethed. "Nobody's going to tell me what I can or can't do, and if you don't understand that about me, then that's your fault. I plan on living here, and I figure the best way to survive is to be free anyway."

And off she went, being free, just like she said. Bai and Kay looked elsewhere when Cab glared around. Decker looked back at him, impassive. Decker had been planning to bring it up with Chione, or at least to raise the fact, in a reasonable way, that nobody had really agreed she'd go into a firefight. Now Decker wasn't going to say shit. He didn't have to help this guy.

"You let her do this," Cab accused.

Decker grunted.

Cab looked like he might say something else and then he remembered who the fuck he was talking to and turned and stalked off toward the barn where Chione was just coming out on her horse. She almost ran him down, Cab jumping out of the way.

Decker was pitying the man a little now. He was glad Persya didn't want to fight and ride all the time. It was cruel for Chione to tell Cab the facts of things in front of other men, but Chione didn't ever hold back. If Cab wanted her, he was going to have to accept that about her. Just like Decker had accepted Persya's stubborness, for example. A relationship was give-and-take. You had to be flexible.

In a few minutes, Cab came out on his horse, riding after her. Off they went.

"I don't give him odds," Kay muttered.

"She's got the faster horse," Bai agreed.

"He better not make Chione mad," Adya said. "She really mean when she's mad."

Decker grunted.

#

(Persya)

That night, Decker told Tag about them. They were in the main room. Chione was outside helping Kay to finish dragging bodies onto the wagon from the ground, since, as Decker said, she'd helped put them there. Kay had told Adya to stay inside.

"What will you do with them? Bury them?" Persya had said, her stomach turning over to see the men killed in Decker's front yard. There were so many of them. She'd missed the whole thing. It looked like some kind of battlefield.

"Briken enclosure," Decker had grunted.

Now, sitting at the table, Tag eyed Decker. "Sirens," he said, his eyes going briefly to Grace.

"And witches," Decker agreed, grim, his eyes slanting to Persya.

"Stop it, Decker," Persya said.

"Don't tell me what to do, stubborn," Decker replied.

"They make you do things?" Tag said to Decker.

"They know better now," Decker said darkly.

"They better not," Bai muttered, his arms crossing, slouching back.

"Don't, Bai," Dawine said.

"What kinds of things?" Tag said, looking at Grace again.

Grace, who hadn't moved through the conversation or looked at anybody, rose and walked through the front door and went down the stairs, almost running.

"Shit," Tag said, getting up and following her.

Persya assumed this had also been Decker's way of telling Cab without having to speak to him directly. The two men barely looked at each other, pretending like the other didn't exist.

Cab had left shortly after Grace, and Persya imagined Chione was going to hear about it soon.

Not much later, Chione had walked into the house from outside, coming up the stairs. They were doing their circle again and she was talking.

"Would you rather I would have just let you shoot me, Cab Hollis?" she said.

"I wouldn't have shot you," Cab followed her to say.

"How would I know that?"

"I wouldn't have shot you," Cab repeated to the back of her head. "I swear it."

"Of course not," Chione scoffed, going around the table. "I know exactly what you would have done if you could have."

"I might have," Cab snapped. "Now I don't even know, because you made me give you my gun. You sang me against myself. You set me off my balance."

"Then we're even," Chione said to Cab.

"I don't even know what the hell you mean by that," Cab said, following her out the door.

"Well, let me know when you figure it out, dumbass," Chione had said, going down the porch stairs, Cab following.

Chione didn't hold back. But Persya was mostly worried about Grace. She haunted the place, so quiet you forgot she was there.

"We talked," Grace said when Persya caught her crying in the kitchen after Tag left. "I thought he didn't want me. He said that wasn't it and that what I can do, the singing, doesn't matter to him. He thinks I shouldn't want him because he's poor." Grace wiped at her eyes. "I told him I'd doctor and make money for us, but he's proud. He's always tired. He works hard all the time and worries and only just gets by. He's a good man, an honest and gentle man. It's not fair, Persya. It's not right."

#

(Decker)

Decker had plans, his eyes going to Persya through the window. He was sitting on the porch in the shadows. She'd been sending him signals. For three days, he'd watched her without touching, just in case. Now it was finally night time and dark and she couldn't escape him.

He rose and went in, walking to the table. "Come on now," he said to Persya.

She looked up from talking to Yenna. "What?"

"Let's go." He gestured.

"Go where?"

Like she didn't know. "Get your pretty ass in the room."

That stubborn look came to her face. "What for?"

Shit. He forgot. He'd mean to act helpless and get her to come with him that way, using Tag's strategy. Next time. His brows went up. "How detailed do you want me to get, answering that?"

There was a muffled sound from Yenna, who rose and went to her door and slipped into her room, Lily looking out briefly. Yenna closed the door and he heard them laughing.

Persya watched her go and turned to look at him, her nose flaring. "I don't have to."

He leaned in, speaking low, his cock getting hard. "I'll take you right here on the table if you have some kind of perverted need to display yourself."

"You will not."

He leaned back a little, studying her. "Are you looking for a spanking, stubborn?"

Her chin came up. "You wouldn't dare."

He grinned. "You're so cute. Come on with me now."

That neat little face got even more stubborn. "I won't."

Which was how she ended up over his shoulder, protesting in her pretty voice and her round butt right there as he went down the porch stairs.

"Evening, Persya," Kay said, coming up and walking past, knowing her even from her posterior.

"Goodnight, Persya," Adya echoed.

"You let me down right now, Decker Crane," she cried.

"I will," he said, walking past Cabot, who ignored them like he should.

Decker's intended was squirming and screeching. She did turn him on. Decker laughed as her feet did little kicks. It was so cute when she did shit like that, her fists beating on his back. It was light enough out to see well enough. He walked with her until they had privacy and set her down on her feet in front of him, his hand twinging. It still hurt bad, wrapped in the bandage.

She came up out of her hair, red-faced and flustered. "You asshole," she threw at him.

Grinning, he motioned. "You want to fight?"

"What are you talking about?" she panted.

"Let's see what you got. Run or attack. That's always the first decision to make in a fight."

She came for him, pissed enough to give it a shot, batting at him. One caught him in the face and she made a satisfied sound.

"I got to teach you to make a fist soon, stubborn," he said, getting hold of her and doing what he wanted, tearing at her shirt and undershirt the women had insisted on making, her sweet tits bouncing out as she arched, screaming and slapping.

He grunted, reversing her, facing her backward under his arm and pulling her pants down and the underpants she also insisted on wearing, ripping them. She acted like they were the very last pair in the whole system, fishtailing and accusing, her feet in their boots digging into the ground as he got them off.

There was that pretty ass, all round and ready. He hadn't hurt his spanking hand. It came down, smacking her, five sharp swats, and then he released her. He was barely breathing fast as she jerked from him and backed away, her eyes fiery and her hair a mess, naked with her little boots on, and wasn't she mad and gorgeous.

He laughed. "Try again. Run or fight, baby."

She came for him, of course, because she was stubborn, and this time she did make fists, beating on his chest with them, although he could hardly feel it, her sweet tits bouncing. He liked this game. His cock was hard. Her knee came up and he turned his leg.

"You're getting better, pretty Persya," he said, hearing some creative language in return. She was learning that, too. It probably wasn't right, swearing in front of women, but it was a difficult habit to break. Fuck, his hand hurt.

He got behind her, his arm across her front, lifting her, and she was practically running in the air, her body pale and curvy in the night and wasn't her skin soft.

He brought her down on her belly, giving her room to get her hands and knees under her, and then he trapped her, using his weight. She went down on her elbows as he kneed her legs open from behind.

His hand came down under her, tugging her nipples, his breath hot in her ear. "You just want me to make you come," he said, slipping his hand around her and down to her pussy and penetrating her heat with his finger and adding a second, his thumb rubbing above.

She disagreed. He knew because she told him so, but she was wet, the sweet little whore. It didn't take her long. It never did, Persya shivering. She sounded mad even as she came, several sharp cries and tugs on his fingers, straining.

"Take your punishment, stubborn," he said, getting off her and pinning her shoulders down, giving her more of her spanking, another five hard swats, her ass in the air.

He released her and she scrambled up and finally did the sensible thing against a larger adversary. She bolted.

Getting up, he followed at her pace, enjoying watching the way she ran naked, her graceful hands up for balance and everything in motion. She looked behind herself and yelled, going faster and then she went down with a cry.

Decker reached her. She was on the ground. When she saw him, she cried out, trying to get up.

"Hold on, stubborn," getting down with her and looking at her ankle. Everything about her was pretty. "Does it hurt?"

"No," she threw at him, breathing fast and out of sorts.

Well, then. Pushing her on her back, he got over her, tugging the buttons on his jeans. He'd caught her. They could do it here. He grinned and blocked her hand as she came in for a slap. She'd tried. His hand hurt bad now and he didn't care. He took his time sucking her nipples, her hands pushing on his shoulders. Her face was flushed, offering them, squirming. She hitched.

"You are such a sweet bitch," he muttered, planting his bad hand and pushing her knees up and leaning on them. Trapping her, he cleared the cloth, entering her slowly. He was enjoying the sensations, enjoying that she couldn't move, her tits jiggling. Enjoying how deep he could go, coming in on her high. Reaching down, he squeezed her nipples and began pinching them lightly, one and the other, getting more rough.

There were so many ways she told him that she liked that. It was in her voice, in the spasms on his cock. It was in the way she held her breasts still for him, in the hardness of her nipples under his fingers. He gave a harder pinch and her body jerked. Slowing his thrusts, enjoying her, he slapped her nipple. He went to the other, smacking. She cried out with each one, her cheeks flushed and her eyes gone with pleasure.

"That's right," he said, excited. "Good girl." He thrust deep and fast, his own completion coming, pinching her nipples again. He'd missed her and it was going to be fast. Pulling back and reaching down, he spread her legs, his fingers seeking.

"Decker," she whined.

He did like it when she said his name like that. He was panting, feeling it on him, and there she went. He could feel the strong tugs. She cried out, a helpless note that made him come, her nipples red from his abuse of them.

"Son of a bitch," he panted, giving one last thrust to feel it.

Her eyes were closed. He kissed her, feeling her arms and then her legs wrap around him, delicate and she smelled so good. He rolled, putting her on top of him, enjoying her weight. His heart was pounding as his good hand went to her round butt.

Turning her head and seeing it, she sat up, straddling him. "Your hand, Decker."

She reached for it and he gave it to her, watching her face. Worried for him again. She was sweet as hell. Her touch was gentle as she turned it. It was bleeding again through the bandage and hurt even worse. He reached with his good hand and caressed the roundness of her cheek, Persya giving him one of those shy glances she did.

"Come on," he said. "I'll get Grace to bind it better." He got her up and pulled off his shirt, putting it around her. "What's that face for?"

She sighed, her shoulders falling. "I never win against you. Men are so much larger."

He grinned. He didn't mind it. "Best to just accept what is."

"Didn't you ever try to fight somebody bigger than you?"

He took her hand on his good side, walking. "I tended to avoid it when I was small."

"How?"

"I have always believed in getting ahead of things. I never did like being caught unaware, if you haven't noticed that. If somebody was a problem, or I thought they might become a problem, I lay in wait. I killed my first man at fourteen and armed myself with his pistol. That was the one that I just lost. Sometimes I was wrong and they weren't coming for me, but enough times, I was right. After a time, men started treating me as someone to avoid crossing, even young as I was. It was helpful. Then I got bigger and meaner, and my strategy still was useful."

"So you fought people to avoid getting beaten."

"And other things." Decker grimaced. "I was pretty when I was fourteen, Persya."

She stared at his face and seemed to slowly realize. "Oh, Decker."

"The prospect didn't please me, I admit."

She was quiet. "Did you ever lose?" she asked.

"I got beat a few times, but not raped," he answered. "I did know one guy, a little older than me. We came to the frontier planets together. His name was Jem. We had big plans and intended to look out for one another. But one time, I came back from working and a group of older men had got hold of him. I hadn't been there. When they were done, he didn't have any fight in him anymore. I figured they'd come for me next. Maybe they wouldn't have, but I ambushed them anyway. I killed all three. I shot the third in the crotch for what he'd done. I told Jem about it. I thought maybe he would come back to me some, since I'd avenged him, but he just died."

She looked horrified. "How did he die?"

"He got trampled by horses, but he was already a ghost walking around, not sleeping for nightmares and jumping at everything and shamed. I was alone after that, and I guess I just got meaner." Decker looked ahead of himself. Fuck, he hadn't thought about Jem in years. He didn't know what made him do so now or why it made him sad to remember something from so long ago. She must have sensed it, because she interpreted his feelings for him like she did sometimes.

"He was important to you," she said. "Your friend. He got hurt. You tried to make it better and you couldn't. You lost him."

It did make sense when she put it like that. "I guess."

He found her clothes, putting them under his arm. It was quiet in the house when they went in.

Grace looked up from the table and made a noise, going to get her bag. "I told you not to move it too much, Decker," she scolded.

#

Things got back to where they'd been before they'd fucked up again. He listened to the women singing in the cabin and Lily told stories. They had real food, and Dawine baked a berry pie, with crust that flaked off. He'd dipped his fingers in his plate, getting every last bit and ignoring Persya's frown at him. His hand got better, although it hurt for a long time and it wasn't pretty to look at. He'd watched Persya's face when Grace had taken off the bandage, but all he'd seen was worry for him.

Bai convalesced in the main room, nasty with it and foul, until Decker told Dawine to bring him into the bedroom before Decker shot him.

A few weeks later, he was at the idium panels at the briken pen, having a conversation with Bane, since Tag wouldn't come see him anymore, not wanting to risk falling into Grace's bed and disgracing himself. Bane was on the other side of the barrier. They had already greeted each other like they did, Bane charging down a hill, screaming.

"You big fucker," he said.

Now the big briken was tearing at the idium panel, trying to get to him, Decker leaning against it. Decker being here wasn't about inciting the animal. Bane would do this with the same destructive vigor whether or not Decker was standing there, he imagined. Bane's plans could be long-range. He was an intelligent animal. Slobbery.

The panel was translucent and thick, another splash of viscous fluid slowly migrating downward, pieces of gore in it.

"I think it's yours," Decker told the briken in a lull, just pleased all around. "I saw her the other day. I agree she's the best-looking of the bunch. I didn't know a pregnant briken would get so fat.'

Bane roared, attacking the panel with renewed ferocity, his red eyes lit with unhinged madness. The panels were insured by the company that made them. They were positive nothing could escape, but they hadn't ever had to contain a briken and Decker figured it was a worthy experiment. The panel had walls thicker than a man was tall, made of material that simply didn't tear. It yielded without breaking. There was no punching through it. So they said.

Bane strained, his longest horn entering the material, pushing into it with a creeping slow insanity, Decker turning to watch with interest. The horn penetrated deeper toward him, the animal twisting. Bane was going to have a difficult time getting it out if he didn't watch it, but he could be shortsighted in the heat of the moment. He snarled, more snot hitting the panel.

Decker could relax now. They'd taken care of Cochrain, and now the assholes from town wouldn't attack his ranch. There weren't that many left anyway, the cowards. The point was, he and the other men had surmounted their difficulties and it was time to reap the rewards of their efforts and get some damned peace for once. It was pleasant.

Bane grunted, a deep grunt, panting, and then roared.

"If you get your head inside, I'm not digging you out, stupid," he told the briken.

"Decker--"

He couldn't hear the rest. Decker grabbed his radio. "Tag? Speak up. Bane's trying to murder me again."

"Persya's gone," Tag yelled. "Prime is here in transports. Prime officers, Deck, with pressure rifles. They've come for the women."

Decker stood up. "What the fuck do you meangone?"