Holdin' On for a Hero (27 page)

Wyatt wasn’t even aware she watching him. His mind was caught in the memory of what had happened the day his brother died. He remembered how horrified he was at what he’d done and how afraid he was to go home and tell his father.

His mom and dad had gone back with him to the pond after calling the police. It was bad enough that Wyatt had to see the look on his parents’ faces when they saw Walker, but when the police arrived it got worse. Winston Holling arrived with them and as soon as he got a look at Winny he made a beeline for Wyatt. If John hadn’t stopped him, Wyatt was sure Winston would have killed him.

Now that the memory had returned, Wyatt could remember the grief and sadness that followed that day. His parents had believed what he said when he told them what happened, but that didn’t stop them from crying over and missing Walker. Wyatt did too. Walker was more than a brother, he was like part of Wyatt. Wyatt really didn’t know how to function without him so he did the only thing he could do, he made believe that Walker wasn’t dead. It took a while, but in time he convinced himself that when Walker’s spirit left his body it entered him. Now he and Walker were one and no one could ever take his brother away from him again.

Wyatt never told anyone about it. The Walker he thought he had created in his mind told him not to. Walker said that it had to be their secret or he would go away and never come back. Wyatt promised not to tell and he didn’t, at least not for a couple of years.

Tsa’li had begun teaching him the history of his people, and Wyatt couldn’t get enough of the old stories and legends. Inspired by the stories and wanting to appear special in Tsa’li’s eyes, he told Tsa’li about Walker. Tsa’li didn’t say that he believed or disbelieved what Wyatt said but told him to go home.

As soon as Wyatt got home he went to his room. That’s when Walker came out. He told Wyatt that he was going to make him pay. Wyatt had broken his word and now he was going to be sorry. Wyatt begged him not to leave but he never got a reply. Walker was gone.

But he was never with me
, Wyatt tried to reason with the child inside him, the little boy who had wanted to believe that his brother had been with him. It was just childish imagination.

Then another memory demanded attention, a memory of that long-ago mission when two of his men ended up mutilated and murdered. He mentally walked through the mission, once more experiencing the sights and sounds and smells. As always his memory contained a gap. He saw DJ and Fish with the woman, DJ’s hand holding the knife to the woman’s throat while Fish raped her. He saw the look of terror and helplessness on the woman’s face and the blood that ran from the cuts on her face.

Then—nothing. No, not nothing, his mind told him. What about the rage?

Wyatt closed his eyes and allowed himself to sink into the memory of the past. He remembered the way he felt. His chest felt like it was about to explode with rage and his eyes burned like someone had poured acid into them. Then—

His eyes flew open as the memory began to come back to him. Blackness closed in around him, blocking his peripheral vision. A coldness accompanied the dark cloud, cold that seeped into the bones and numbed the mind. Then he saw it.

The shrill ring of the phone snapped him back to the present. He turned as Chance picked up the receiver. “Hello?… Yes, could you hold, please?”

“Wyatt? It’s for you.”

He walked over and took the phone from her. “Yeah?… Who is this?… Put him on the phone. I want to talk to him … All right… Yes, I understand. I’m on my way.”

Cradling the receiver he turned and walked out of the room. Chance followed him to the back of the house. He entered his studio and knelt down beside an old trunk. “What’s going on?”

After unlocking the thick padlock on the front of the trunk Wyatt pushed the lid open. “They have my dad. I have to go to him.”

Chance threw herself down beside him and he reached inside the trunk. “Wyatt, no! We have to call Tom—Sheriff Smith, I mean. You can’t go alone.”

“I have to,” he said as he pulled a long knife in a black leather sheath from the trunk. “They’ll kill him if I don’t.”

“Then call the sheriff and have him meet you there. If he catches the men responsible he can put them in jail!”

“I don’t have time,” he said as picked up a gun then changed his mind, returned it to the trunk and stood. “I have to go.”

“I’m going with you.”

“No!” He took her by the arms. “You’re not.”

“Yes, I am!”

“Chance, don’t push me on this.” He tried to speak calmly even though the rage was beginning to bubble in his belly.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go alone. I’m going with you.”

“I said no!” he barked, unable to restrain the anger. “Do as I tell you!”

Chance’s eyes were wide as she looked up at him. “It’s happening, isn’t it? Right now. I can see it on your face.”

Wyatt pushed her away from him and stared over her shoulder with a fixed expression of rage on his face. She looked over her shoulder but saw nothing except the wall. When she turned to him his expression had changed. Along with rage there was fear.

“Wyatt…” She tried to take his hand. “What do you see? Can you hear me? You have to fight this—”

“There’s nothing to fight. I’m in control and I know what I have to do.” Without another word he ran outside to his father’s truck and jumped in.

Chance snatched her keys from the table beside the door and pulled out her phone, dialing as she ran out of the house.

Sheriff Smith’s voice came on the line. He barely had time to say hello. “Tom, it’s Chance. Someone has John Wolfe and I think they’re going to kill him. They called and said for Wyatt to get over there. I couldn’t stop him. You have to get over there. I’m on my way now. Hurry!”

Chapter Nine

Maggie Valley

Iris was back in control by the time she heard the knock on her hotel room door. She opened it and stood framed in the doorway, letting Greg take a long look at her. Dressed in a sheer lace teddy with a matching chiffon jacket, she knew she presented an alluring picture. The expression on Greg’s face as he looked at her confirmed it.

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed and gathered her against him as he backed her up into the room. “This is what I call a welcome.”

He kicked the door closed behind him then claimed her in a hungry kiss. Iris let him indulge himself for a few moments then playfully pushed him away. “Slow down there, big boy.”

“Slow down, hell!” he exclaimed and reached for her again. “Baby, I’m just getting warmed up.”

“Well, cool your jets for a minute, lover.” She walked away from him to fix them each a stiff drink. “Before we get too involved having fun there’re some things we need to go over.”

“Such as?”

“Such as your little friend, Daven Porter,” she replied as she arranged herself provocatively on the bed.

“I’m listening,” Greg said as his eyes traveled appreciatively over her lush body.

“I think it’s time to eliminate Miss Porter.”

“Eliminate?” Greg’s eyes moved sharply to hers. “As in—”

“As in kill, lover.”

“Look, Iris.” Greg put his drink down on the nightstand and held up his hands. “Taking out those red bastards is one thing, but killing a woman—a white woman—that’s something else altogether.”

“Even a white woman who’s trying to trap you into admitting that you’re behind all the trouble? Not to mention one who’s bedding Wyatt Wolfe like a bitch in heat?”

“She’s fucking Wolfe? But I thought you said—”

“Forget what I said and pay attention,” she snapped then softened her tone. “Greg, honey, listen to me. I’ve seen Miss Porter, and talked to her. Don’t forget, as far as she’s concerned I’m on the Indians’ side, so she doesn’t have any reservations about being honest with me. And I know for a fact that she’s going to try her damnedest to make sure that you’re the one left holding the shitty end of the stick. And from what I understand she already has some pretty damaging evidence.”

“What evidence?” Greg’s face noticeably paled.

Iris wanted to laugh at the stricken, fearful look that was stamped on his handsome face but she knew better. She needed Greg in order to succeed. “That I don’t know,” she said, trying to sound frustrated. “But she indicated that it’s enough to get you and some of your boys arrested for murder and attempted rape.”

“Son of a bitch!” he shouted and swiped at the glass on the nightstand, sending it flying across the room. “That conniving bitch!”

“My thoughts exactly, lover. But we still have the upper hand.”

“We do?” He looked at her with a perplexed expression taking shape on his face.

“Oh yes, indeed.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Why don’t you come on over here and I’ll tell you,” she suggested, patting the bed.

Greg complied without hesitation. Iris pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him. “Now, I want you to pay close attention,” she said as she started to unbutton his shirt. “Here’s what I want you to do…”

* * * * *

Wyatt pulled off the road about a quarter of a mile from his father’s house. Leaving the truck parked in the trees, he covered the rest of the distance on foot. There was a late-model pickup truck parked in front of the house. He skirted the property, staying in the cover of the trees to make sure there was no one standing watch outside, then silently ran around to the side of the house.

Easing along, he looked into the windows as he reached them. There was no one in either of the two bedrooms or the kitchen. He checked the bathroom and found it empty then made his way toward the front of the house.

He looked through the window and could see his father. John was tied to a straight-backed wooden chair near the back wall. His face was battered and bloody and Wyatt could tell that he’d taken quite a beating. But John’s back was straight and his face was set in a mask of defiance and rage. His eyes stared straight ahead without blinking.

Two men were in the room with him. Wyatt recognized one of them, Hank Turner. The two other men he had seen around, mostly with Holling’s boys. He thought one of the men’s name was Graham but he wasn’t sure. Hank was sitting on the couch with a deer rifle lying across his legs, watching television. Graham was smoking a cigarette, thumping the ashes on the floor as he peered out the front window every few seconds, while the third man paced.

Wyatt ducked down and made his way to the back of the house. Carefully he crept up the back steps and twisted the knob of the back door. He breathed a silent thanks to discover it unlocked. Slipping inside the kitchen, he stood and listened for a few moments then began to make his way toward the front of the house.

He had just made it past the bathroom door when he heard a sound from outside. The sound of a vehicle pulling up in front of the house. Wyatt stopped, listening to see if it was more of Holling’s men. He inched forward a little closer to the living room door and pulled the knife from its sheath.

John Wolfe looked up in alarm as Graham threw down his cigarette and cursed. “Goddamn, it’s that fucking reporter!”

Hank jumped up and positioned himself on the other side of the door. “Get back!” he hissed at Graham.

Graham had just enough time to press against the wall beside the door before it flew open. “Chance, look out,” John shouted as she burst in.

“John!” she screamed, seeing him at the same moment Hank grabbed her from behind. “Let me go!” she shouted and thrashed around, kicking. “Get your hands off me!”

Suddenly Wyatt appeared in the room. “Let her go,” he said in a deadly calm voice. “It’s me you want.”

Hank jumped in surprise but didn’t release Chance. Graham leveled his gun at Wyatt. “You fuckin’ red-skinned piece of shit. I oughta do you right now.”

“Then do it.” Wyatt looked him in the eyes. “But let the woman go.”

“No!” Chance stomped down hard on Hank’s foot then rammed her heel into the opposite knee. He yelled and released her as he hopped around in pain. Chance started toward Wyatt but Graham grabbed her arm and jabbed the barrel of his handgun underneath her chin.

Wyatt made a move toward them and Graham yelled at him, “One more step and she buys it!”

By then Hank had recovered. He trained his gun on Wyatt and spoke to Graham. “Tie her hands behind her back.”

While Hank kept his weapon aimed at Wyatt, Graham pulled a length of nylon cord from the pocket of his hunting jacket. “You try anything and your boyfriend gets blowed to hell,” he told Chance as he lowered his weapon. “You got it?”

She nodded mutely and didn’t resist as he pulled her hands behind her back and tied them tightly. Then he pulled her over to a heavy wooden rocker in the corner of the room and pushed her down in it. He tied the free length of cord to the wooden slats in the back then looked at Hank.

“Now tie him.” Hank nodded toward Wyatt.

Graham swallowed nervously as he approached Wyatt. Wyatt didn’t move but kept his eyes fixed on Chance where she sat tied to the chair. Graham lashed his hands behind his back then looked again at Hank.

“His feet, too.”

“Get on the floor!” Graham ordered Wyatt.

For a moment Wyatt didn’t move, then he did as Graham ordered. Graham wound the cord tightly around his ankles, tying it tight enough that it almost cut off the circulation to his feet.

“Well, now.” Hank smiled smugly. “That’s better. Now we can have us some fun.”

“Let the woman go,” Wyatt demanded. “She’s no good to you. It’s me you want.”

“Oh, I think you’re wrong there, red-skin,” Hank replied arrogantly. “Seems to me she’d be purty damn good.” He looked over at Chance and sneered. “Matter of fact, why don’t we find out? She ain’t gonna mind. Any woman that fucks an Indian ain’t gonna mind if two good old white boys stick it to her.”

Graham grinned and nodded enthusiastically. “Can I go first, Hank? I wanna do her in the ass.”

“Hell no, you can’t go first.” Hank shoved his gun in the front of his pants. “I ain’t takin no sloppy seconds.”

He turned and walked over to Chance, putting his hands on the arms of the chair and leaning down to leer in her face. “You ready, bitch?”

She didn’t flinch or blink but instead spat in his face. “Touch me and I’ll kill you, you stinking pig!”

Hank wiped the spittle off his face, straightened up and backhanded her hard enough to make her head whip to one side and bang against the back of the chair.

“Leave her alone!” John shouted.

“Or what?” Graham taunted him. “What you gonna do, old man? Call your sky spirits to come down and smite us?”

“Leave her alone,” John repeated.

Graham walked over and smashed John in the temple with the butt of his gun. John’s eyes rolled back and his head fell to one side. Graham looked over at Wyatt to find him staring with a look of cold hatred in his dark eyes.

“Touch her and you die,” Wyatt said in a cold calm voice.

Graham laughed nervously as he took a step back then looked at Hank. Hank walked around behind Chance and unfastened the rope that held her to the chair. Grabbing her by the hair he hauled her to her feet and shoved her forward.

“You just sit there and watch, chief,” he said to Wyatt as Chance struggled, kicking and squirming to get away. “We’re gonna show you how to fuck a white bitch. Come on, Graham, let’s get this slut’s clothes off.”

Chance screamed as Graham grabbed her shirt and tore it open. His hands closed painfully on her breasts and she kicked at him, catching him in the thigh. He stumbled back with a mad look on his face then came at her again.

She could not dodge the slap he delivered, as Hank still held her by the hair. Her head swam and before she could collect herself to react they shoved her to the floor.

She started kicking and screaming like a crazed person. Both men were trying to pin her legs down in order to get her pants off. Neither one of them was paying any attention to Wyatt. They weren’t paying attention to anything but trying to hold Chance still.

Suddenly the front window exploded in a shower of glass and splintered wood. Hank tried to pull his gun from the waist of his pants as the huge gray wolf leaped into the room. He didn’t make it. Wa’ya’s weight slammed into him and a moment later his teeth sank into Hank’s neck.

Graham forgot about Chance and tried to reach his rifle that was lying on the floor. She kicked at him, making him fall over sideways then kicked at the gun and sent it sliding across the floor, under the couch.

Hank was screaming in pain as Wa’ya shook him like a rag doll. Graham was trying to edge toward the door when an enraged roar that didn’t sound quite human came from Wyatt’s direction.

Graham immediately yelped in surprise and turned in Wyatt’s direction. “Goddamn! What the fuck’s—” He forgot all about Hank being torn to shreds by the wolf.

Chance scooted over to the couch and stood. That was when she saw Wyatt. “Oh, no!” she breathed. The transformation was almost complete.

Graham didn’t have the good sense to run. He just watched in morbid fascination as Wyatt changed before his eyes. His eyes grew darker until they appeared no more than black, bottomless holes. His features twisted into a hard mask of rage and hatred. The veins in his forehead and neck stood out suddenly and as everyone watched in amazement he snapped the nylon cord that bound his wrists as if it were kite string, then did the same with the bonds at his ankles.

Chance heard a gasp from John as Wyatt stood and looked at Graham with a murderous gleam in his eyes. John looked as if he were in shock. She wanted to help him but she couldn’t afford to take her attention off Wyatt for long.

“Wyatt, no.” She started toward him. “Don’t. Let the sheriff handle it. He’s on his way. Please, don’t do anything.”

“Do not order me, woman!” he shouted and grabbed Graham by the throat.

Graham gurgled and gasped as he was lifted up off the floor. “Stop!” Chance shouted and ran at them. “If you kill him it won’t solve anything! He’s no good to us dead, but alive we have proof of what happened.”

“He does not deserve to live. He is an enemy of the People. He must die.”

“Wya—” She stopped before she got his name out. He was not Wyatt at that moment. She had to appeal to the other. “Walker!” she shouted. “Listen to me!”

He turned his head and looked at her. “Please,” she implored. “Listen to me. If you let him go I’ll provide you with what you need to ensure you remain in control. I know how you can keep Wyatt trapped. But I won’t tell you if you kill him.”

Walker eyed her with suspicious eyes. “Tell me or he dies.”

“Then kill him. And I’ll never tell you.”

Walker stared at her coldly for a moment then heaved Graham away, across the room. He hit the wall, shattering the plaster before he sank to the floor unconscious. Walker grabbed Chance by the arm and jerked her to him. “Tell me.”