Breaking the Bad Boy (25 page)

“I believe you, Joss. I know I teased you about the bad boy, but your past lovers are not my business. That was a long time to go without a lover, Duchess,” he said softly.

“No one knows that better than I,” she said. “But I do believe you are worth the wait.”

“Why the young owl, why not the rhino, or the hedgehog, he was cute?” She huffed out a laugh. “Notice I didn’t say the hands, I don’t think I could bear the thought of anyone else’s hands on your ass. Even a sixteenth century artist.” She chuckled. The thought of Gunter Hauer’s hands on her ass or any other part of her made him decidedly irritated. He was too blond and handsome for his peace of mind.

“Me neither. Interesting that you know Durer’s work, Buck, you really were tailor made to suit me,” she looked at him. “Oh God,” she whispered. “You weren’t, were you?” He held her even closer.

“Sent by the FBI to get into your bed? That would be downright devious; I wouldn’t put it past them. But they didn’t mention it to me. Which might not mean anything,” he shook his head, but a seed had been planted in his thoughts. He could have taken a minor in art history; he had enough credits, it was a field of study he very much enjoyed. He had lived in
Germany
, too, and spoke German, Joss undoubtedly spoke it after her year of living there. They both grew up around horses, and they were fiercely attracted to each other. And there was that painting of
Guernica
in her room.

The obvious question would be why, and the obvious answer would be the Frenchman’s gold. Which once again begged the question: why? Why would the Feds be so interested in something that may or may not exist, and they certainly had no claim to?

“Don’t discount it, Duchess; you and I have more in common than you think, I didn’t realize it until just now. Tell me about the owl, baby.”

“Brand and I found an immature barn owl with some broken something, we never could get close enough to find out. Those things are dangerous,” she laughed. “Every day we’d sneak a frozen hamburger patty out of the freezer and bring it to him, and bring him fresh water, until the inevitable day when he was strong enough to fly, and he was gone.

“For years afterwards whenever we heard an owl we figured it was him, calling to us, thanking us for taking care of him when he needed it. Even to this day when I hear an owl I smile even though some say they’re bad luck.

“When I was a kid I only had Brand. I didn’t really fit in at school, but people liked him, he was the kind of person who found something to like in everyone he met. I miss him still, and I know I should just snap out of it, but I can’t seem to. Every few years I feel the need to mark my flesh, to make Brand indelible on my body, since it is my only true pallet. It sooths me, somehow. Undoubtedly it has to do with having been abandoned by my mother so soon after losing Brand. So far I have only put the tats in out of the way places. I know they are mainstream these days, but I have to look professional in my job, and these are personal, not for public consumption. And I’ve been enough trouble for poor Brent, the second to last thing he needs to see is my tattooed flesh.”

“Second to last?”

“He has a powerful fear of finding me naked in somebody’s arms,” she said grinning.

“I do too, now that you mention it.” In fact, the thought made him a little bit ill. “The bear was bad enough.” She reached back and touched his hair.

“About the second tattoo…” he began.

“The first, actually,” he heard the smile in her voice and he smiled, too.

“You know I’ve been everywhere, Duchess, I haven’t found it. I can’t say that I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed looking, though.”

“You seem to think you have eyes on your tongue,” he huffed out his breath laughing unexpectedly and she giggled. “I’ll give you a hint. I did it myself,” she said.

“That’s your hint?”

“Come on, that’s a good hint. Think of all the canvas I couldn’t reach.” He thought for a second and took her left arm in his big gentle hands and pulled her watch off. Under where the band was, a small “Brand” was written in a surprisingly elegant script. He was moved on a deep level for some reason.

“You have a beautiful soul, Joss.”

There would be no one for her once he was gone from her life; he had ruined her for any other lover, any other love. She might as well get married. “I’m a ruined bruin,” she said and he laughed.

“Ruined? Who’s ruined you?”

“You have,” she rolled into his arms and kissed him, putting her leg on top of his. “I just…” She had no more words. “Just hold me; I think you’ve distracted me enough so I can sleep now.”

“Sleep, Joss, we’re safe enough for now,” he kissed her forehead since her head was using Buck’s shoulder as a pillow, he felt godlike when she clung to him like that. He was in deep; he was going to miss her when he took off for the next job, if he made it through this one alive. What an idiot he’d been thinking once he bedded her he’d get her out of his system, bedding her had the opposite effect, he was hooked, he’d never be happy without her.

***

 
“How much money have we got left?” She asked. “Enough for breakfast?”

“Are you tired of granola bars, Duchess?” He smiled at her.

“Yes,” she laughed. “But I could handle a Snickers bar; I saw a vending machine by the ice maker.” She held out her hand for money. He slapped all the ones he had in it and looked dubiously at the remains.

“We might sleep rough tonight, I hope you enjoyed your shower,” he said.

“I did enjoy my shower, but that is the last time I let you in without a condom, Buck, we’re flirting with disaster,” she said.

“I know,” he held her to him. “I’m sorry I’m so weak.”

“I’m weak, too, you’re hard to resist,” she kissed him. Her ass was getting noticeably smaller; she needed more than Snickers, why wasn’t she whining at him? “I’ll be right back, you goop up your side.”

“Yes dear,” she heard him say as she stepped from the room and she laughed.

She had four dollars in her pocket and two different sets of bad guys after her and she honestly had never been more frightened or happier in her life. Buck didn’t know it yet, but he wasn’t going anywhere without her, she couldn’t just let him go. They were connected.

When she turned the corner she walked right into one of the Navajo bikers.

Chapter Nine

Joss concentrated more on being more frightened than happy. The biker smiled evilly at her, displaying a gold tooth and all the hair lifted off her body. Turning to flee, she ran right into the younger biker who had been cleaning his nails with his knife in the small glade. He grabbed her hands in front of her and tied them quickly together with a leather strap while his friend held her from behind.

Joss fought him and inhaled to scream when he pulled the knife from his boot and put it under her eye.

“Not a word, bitch,” he said. “Not one fucking word. We’ve been chasing you for too long, and I don’t want to listen to your crap. It’s a big state, but there’s nowhere to go, is there? So when we saw all the cops here we figured you’d be here, too. You look like you’d be trouble. Virgil and I waited around until they left, and lo and behold you just stepped right into our trap. Now let’s go find your boyfriend, and we’ll have a little fun with both of you.” She couldn’t help but groan. “Save it, Blondie, we’ll get to that.” He smiled evilly.

He pulled her along the corridor toward the room and she balked. They would kill Buck given the chance; she had to keep them away from him, but they knew exactly which room they were in. The biker just prodded her along, slapping her with the flat edge of the knife on the back of her thigh. Virgil knocked on the door, and nodded to the biker who held Joss. Buck opened it and took in the scene in less than a second.

Joss looked at him helplessly as Virgil dived into the room first and threw such a punch it would have knocked Buck out had he not just almost casually leaned out of its path, and wrenched Virgil’s head around, breaking his neck and letting the man fall to the floor of the room, immobile. Joss was amazed at Buck’s feline grace. He stood crouched to evaluate what else needed to be done.

“Not so fast. Your pretty Bear’s Mistress won’t be much fun with a slit in her throat.” The knife pricked her throat and Joss jumped from the shock. Buck stilled. They stepped into the room and the biker kicked the door shut.

“You should have shot me when you had the chance,” he said.

“I won’t make that mistake again,” Buck said.

“Sit down and watch while I fuck your bitch,” the biker said pushing Joss on to the bed, but still holding on to a handful of her hair.

“That’s not going to happen,” Buck said.

“Shut up!” The biker said as he looked around the room for something to make it easier. Virgil was supposed to knock the big guy out and then they’d tie him up, or kill him, and then take turns with Blondie. The bitch’s boyfriend was dangerous, though, he made short work of
Elgin
, and then Virgil, and he wasn’t going to get too close to him. Maybe he should just back away now, take Blondie someplace else. His best option was to keep the knife to the girl’s throat the whole time, but that was going to be awkward if he accidentally killed her, what was the big guy going to do to him then? Fucking Virgil was always messing things up for him. “You got any rope?”

Joss turned to look at the biker. Did he really expect them to provide rope?

“No rope? Then where’s the gun?” The biker looked at the panniers on the bike and grinned. He took Joss over to it and flipped open the bags. No gun. He moved Joss back to the bed and yanked her hair until she sat down.

“Can’t you use your words? That hurts,” she said. She was holding on to the wrist of the hand that held her hair, her eyes open wide in fear. The biker looked at Buck; he stood very still, with every muscle in his body clenched, ready to attack. He put the knife to the girl’s breast and smiled at Buck.

“You sit down,” the biker motioned for Buck to sit on the chair. Buck hesitated, but sat down on the hard chair and then shouted the most remarkable thing. “The gun is under the… what’s the word? The place where you put your head.” The fact that he said it in German didn’t immediately register to Joss, it was completely unexpected. The biker looked at Buck and then looked at Joss. She shrugged.

“He does that sometimes,” she said and the biker looked at Buck again. “Das kissen?” Joss said.

“Ja!” Buck yelled and stood up from the chair. The biker turned toward Buck and let Joss’s hair go. She reached for the gun under the pillow and turned holding it leveled at the biker’s chest, one of her feet was on the floor, one knee on the rumpled bed, the gun held in front of her gripped in both hands. Buck thought she looked like a cop.

“Drop the knife or I will shoot you where you stand,” she said.

The biker didn’t really know what to do. He stood for a moment considering his options. He knew the big guy was the real threat, the girl, not so much, even with the gun. Women were weak, in his experience, and she’d be too frightened and soft hearted to pull the trigger, and she probably couldn’t hit the blind side of a barn. She didn’t shoot when they were going to take her in the glade, and she wouldn’t do it now. Whereas, he’d be dead if the big guy got the gun, and both of them knew it. He made his decision and lunged for Buck, the knife held out in front of him.

Without any hesitation Joss shot the biker twice, right in the center of his body, just before he got to Buck. The knife was still in his reaching hand, but Buck once again simply stepped out of his path. The biker fell dead on the thin carpet of the room.

“Time to go, Duchess, the cops will come for that.” He pulled her off the bed, took the gun from her, put it in the waistband of his pants and undid the leather tie around her wrists. He closed the panniers and rolled the bike out of the room. Putting a hand out for her he said, “Come,” and she did, in a kind of daze she swung her leg over the bike and they roared away. Joss was shaking uncontrollably by the time they got to the first stop light.

“Come on, Duchess, don’t fall apart on me. Hold me tight,” he said and she nodded absently into his back tightening her hold around his waist. They rode south.

Buck had thought they were in
Billings
, but he guessed he was in pretty bad shape when they arrived last night and Joss thought better of going any further. He had to readjust his plans, such as they were; he was flying by the seat of his pants. First he had to feed his Duchess and keep her from going into shock, both his grandfathers, from different ends of the earth would prescribe tea. He had to keep her safe, soon enough the police would be looking for them, and they were both conspicuous in their appearance.

Something deep inside you changed forever when you killed someone, and he hoped this wouldn’t break her. He had hoped to disarm the biker and break his neck before she would have to pull the trigger, but her impulse to protect him was flatteringly powerful and she killed him before Buck could get close enough, and now Joss was suffering.

An hour into the drive she finally spoke. “There’s a cabin on Brent’s land, it’s a few miles away from the house to the north east.”

She was back. “Do you think you could find it?”

She hesitated for a minute and placed it in the map of her brain. “I can find it.” He put one big hand on hers and squeezed.

“Does Cassidy know about it?”

“No, at least, she shouldn’t, he bought it last year, I found it when I was sneaking around in his books,” she said.

“That’s my girl. I’ll feed you at the first town we come to.”

“Thank you, I’ve been eyeing your boots,” she said and he laughed. God, he loved her. He stopped laughing abruptly. Holy shit, he loved her. Oh no, but of course he did, he’d known for a while, he’d just avoided it. He couldn’t tell her either, because he couldn’t stay. They had no future. “Are you all right?” She asked.

“You may not eat my boots,” he said and she relaxed against him again and ran her hand down his chest absently.

This was the first time she had taken a life intentionally. She took a man’s life, just like Cassidy’s lover killed Brand. The only thing that made it different was that Brand would never hurt anyone, and the biker, whose name she didn’t even know, was inches from killing the man she loved. The thing that frightened her the most was that she didn’t care. A man was dead by her hand and she just didn’t care. She would have killed a hundred men to save Buck, and that thought made her feel subhuman.

If not self defense, it was certainly defense, and she might not spend too much time in jail when the time came. She had started shaking again, and Buck slowed the bike to make a turn. He stopped at a creek a little off the road and under some trees.

There was a rocky outcropping he parked underneath and he took her hand and led her to the top of it. It concerned him that she was allowing herself to be dragged up the hill, but he didn’t know what else to do.

He sat her down on the rock, and sat right behind her and held her to him between his legs. “I don’t know what to say to you that will make it better. I’m not sure there is anything to say to make you feel better,” he said quietly in her ear. “You saved my life; he would have surely killed me, and then raped and killed you.”

“I know that I am glad you are the one breathing instead of him. And I don’t think he was a particular benefit to society, but I killed him… I’m a little freaked out.”

“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“Do you ever get over it?” She turned in his arms and looked him in the eye.

He touched her beautiful cheek. “No.” He kissed her very lightly. “You just learn to forgive yourself. You can do that, you had no choice. Come on, Duchess, they’ll be looking for a lanky, beat up Indian and a gorgeous, leggy blonde, we need to keep moving. Are you okay?” She reached up and touched his face.

“Yes,” she said looking at him with those impossibly blue eyes.

“You’re my hero, Duchess.” She shook her head.

“Don’t say that, I’m a monster, because I don’t care. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“You will make an excellent mother, Bear’s Mistress, you are powerfully protective, and you saved our lives back there. Explore your psyche when we’re safely out of this, right now you need to keep it together, and know you did the only thing that could have been done. Okay?”

She nodded, still staring at him, and he nodded back.

“You had a plan though, didn’t you?” She asked him.

“Nothing as effective as two bullets to the chest, Duchess,” he said.

He kissed her again and they went back down the rocks and to the bike. Buck opened the pannier and pulled out water and a blue bandana. He held the bottle to her and she drank. He watched her throat move as the water went down and thought it was the most beautiful throat he’d ever seen, even with the small gash the biker left her.

“Tie your hair back with this, you’ll be a little less conspicuous,” he said and took the water from her and drank deeply. Putting both his hands on her shoulders he looked her in the eye. “Are you ready to do this thing?”

“Yes,” she nodded bravely meeting his gaze.

“Okay, let’s go.” They climbed on and went back out to the main road.

After a few miles they came to a town and loaded up on apples, premade deli sandwiches and a bag of Snickers. At the last minute he bought a very ugly hat that would cover up that lovely hair that ordinarily she wouldn’t be caught dead in, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. They met at the bike and when she saw the Snickers he thought she might just cry.