Stone Cold Cowboy (12 page)

C
onnor's back slammed into the stone wall. He barely had enough strength and presence of mind to keep his head from cracking against the jagged rocks. Derek's forearm pressed against his throat. The guy smelled like stale beer and sweat, making Connor want to gag. Scott and Tony tossed their cards on the folding table and scooted their chairs back enough to give them the ability to run for the cave entrance if things went to shit. Tony slowly reached for the glass pipe and the small baggy, fisting both in his hand and stuffing them into the pocket of his too-loose jeans. They'd been playing poker and riding their high. Scott and Tony hadn't shut up for hours, but Derek showed up and they had nothing to say.

“You fucking tell me where my drugs are or I'll kill you.”

“They're safe, man. Swear.”

“They're supposed to be in that shack you call a lab.”

Connor hadn't slept in two days. He needed another hit and stared at Tony's hand pressed deep into his pocket. Connor wanted to tell him to fucking give his drugs back. He needed them. His skin crawled with the
need. Even now, with death looking him in the eye, he scratched at his leg and wished for one more fix. The high wore off and he needed sleep, but all he could think about was sucking on that pipe and flying.

“You've been missing in action for days. We're out here day in and day out cooking that shit. We take all the risks. What the hell do you do?”

“I fucking get you what you need to make that shit you smoke day in and day out. I'm the one who sets up the buys. Where are my fucking drugs?” Derek's voice rose until the last was said in a barely controlled roar.

“We don't deliver for two more days.”

“Fucking junkies.” Derek shook his head. “I told you that three days ago. You dumbshits were supposed to be ready to move tonight.”

Connor tried to think past the fear. His thrashing heart felt like a jackhammer in his chest. Sweat trickled down the side of his face and back, soaking his T-shirt. “Okay, I'll go get them. I can get them. I'll go. I'll bring them back.”

“Where are they?” Derek shouted, spittle hitting Connor in the face.

“I hid them in the barn. They're there. I'll get them. I'll bring them back.”

“Stop rambling, you stupid fuck. Are you telling me you hid them at your house?”

“Yes. Yeah. They're there.”

“At your fucking place? Where that bitch of a sister lives? The one who's got the cops after us. The one who'd call the cops if she found those drugs.”

“She won't find them. She's got no reason to go in the barn now that all the horses are gone. She won't find them. Swear.”

“Yeah, you fucking swear all the time, but you fuck up more than you deliver. This is all I need, your fucking sister finding my shit and fucking my life again. I can't go back to my bar. The damn cops have it under surveillance. My house, too. I'm stuck sneaking around, and you three are here drinking, doing drugs, and not cooking my damn meth.”

“We are. We did. We're out. Until you can get the guys to make another run. We cooked it all. It's done. Fine. Swear.”

“You better be right about this.” Derek finally backed off, shoving Connor aside. “Let's go.”

Connor stumbled, but caught himself before he nosedived into his cot. “Go. No.” Connor shook his head side to side. “We can't go. I'll go. You don't need to go.”

“One sentence is enough. You really need to lay off the product.”

“I'm fine. Totally fine. Swear.”

“You're whacked out of your head. Let's move.”

“If we all go, we'll get caught. I'll go, get the stuff, and meet you back here.”

“No. We're meeting Trigger. Scott and Tony will take the bags from the sugar shack and drive down to Missoula.”

Connor couldn't help the goofy smile. He'd named the shack just outside the cave the sugar shack. They used that term when talking or texting about the operation and how many bags of “sugar” they produced.

“I don't know what the fuck you're smiling about, man, this is serious shit. We don't deliver and someone's going to get their head blown off.”

Connor hoped it wasn't him. He'd done his best to
keep up with Derek's demands, but all he wanted to do now was get out. Not going to happen. He'd screwed up the first few batches after he swore he could deliver. Instead of slicing his head off, Derek put him back to work to pay off his debt. At this point, Connor knew one thing for sure; the only way he was getting out was dead. No way he ended up in a cell detoxing and hurting with a need for the one thing he couldn't live without anymore. He'd gone down the rabbit hole and lost himself on the dark side.

“Do you hear me, man? We need to go. Now.”

Scott and Tony rushed out to the sugar shack to pick up the duffel bags, then headed to Scott's car. Connor stared at Derek, wishing he could take the dude out. All he did was push, push, push. Connor just wanted to ride his high, forget about everything else, and feel that exhilaration. Derek's presence only made him angry. He hated when he lost control. It really killed his buzz, like when he thought about Sadie and what happened to her. So he smoked some more and let it all go.

“We go. We get it. We get out. You leave my sister alone.”

“You do what you're told for once, and we won't have a problem.”

“Right. I'm the problem.”

Derek shoved him. “What does that mean?”

“Keep your hands off my sister. She's not a part of this.” Connor pressed the heel of his hand to his eye, then up over his sweaty forehead. “All those fucking cuts on her.”

Derek's eyes lit up with excitement. So much so that Connor might have thought he'd just used, but Connor
knew better. Derek never touched the product. No, he liked something other than drugs. He liked to inflict pain. He'd caused Sadie plenty. So had Connor.

He hoped he got away tonight with the drugs from his house without Sadie finding out.

S
adie walked into the kitchen and found Rory sitting at her breakfast table.

“How is your dad?”

“Sleeping.” Sadie looked at the dark windows, then the clock. “It's late. You didn't have to stay.”

“I wanted to.” Rory held his hand out to her.

Sadie walked to him and took it. He gave her a soft tug. She sat on his lap, her legs between his, and leaned into him. He wrapped both arms around her. She leaned her head against his and sighed out her worry and frustration, feeling lighter just having someone here with her, having him here with her.

“No more working at my place. You need to be here with your dad from now on.”

“I appreciate it, Rory, but I'm not going to change my mind about doing what is right.”

“Sadie.” He grumbled out her name like a warning.

She pressed her fingers over his tight lips.

Rory pulled them away and relented. “What can I do to make you feel better?” His deep, rich voice soothed her, but the sweet sentiment went right to her heart.

“You're doing it. I feel better already.”

“I can do more than just sit here with you.”

“You're here, Rory. That's all I need, just to be close to you.”

His arms contracted around her. She settled into his big body, letting his warmth envelop her. The ripples of heat, the pulse of the pull between them, the way it felt right to sit in his arms resonated through her.

“I can't get much closer to you,” she teased, trying to keep things light as nerves sent butterflies fluttering in her belly.

“You could.” He slid his hand up her thigh and squeezed her hip. A deep groan rumbled in his chest. “It's never been easy for me to get to know people, especially women. Ford and Colt say I spend too much time alone on the ranch working. They're probably right.”

“Don't worry, I won't tell them you said so.” She loved the way the brothers teased one another. All in good fun. Rory had forgone a lot of the social aspects of life to fulfill his obligation to family and business. He knew what was important.

“Please don't. I'll never live it down.” He kissed her on the side of the head. “What I'm trying to say is that everything seems easy with you.”

She laughed under her breath. “You think finding me the way you did, staying up all night at the hospital, losing your cattle, what that means to your business and family, and my brother a sore spot between us is easy? If so, then the rest of our lives should be a piece of cake.” She heard her words echo in her ears and backtracked. “What I meant was . . .”

He squeezed her thigh again. “Relax. I know what you mean. All that stuff is hard, but when it's just you and me”—he hugged her close—“like this, it's simple.”

Someone hammered something heavy against metal outside. Rory stiffened against her. She tried not to think the worst, but had to face reality.

“Trouble just came home.”

“Your brother?”

“Probably. It's coming from the barn.”

“Stay here.” Rory stood, pushing her off his lap and gently setting her away from him. “Is your brother armed?”

“With stupidity.” She remembered the last time she saw him. “And yes, he had a handgun the last time he came home. I don't know where he got it. I'll be surprised if he hasn't shot himself in the foot yet.”

That made him smile. He headed for the door, but she grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“I'm going with you. He'll listen to me.”

Rory pressed his lips together and one eyebrow shot up. He eyed her, not believing a word she said. “Yeah, right.”

“Rory, please, he's my brother.”

He peeled her fingers from the grasp she held on his shirt. “I don't want you to get hurt again. If he brought his friends with him . . .”

“You'll be outnumbered.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, that won't be a problem.”

His assurance didn't help. Neither did the sheer size of him. All those muscles were impressive when combined with his height, but all she saw in her mind was that knife Derek liked to use. Her mind conjured one nightmare after the next, all of them filled with images of that knife plunging into Rory's chest.

Sadie let loose Rory's shirt and went to the cabinet near the front door. She opened the door and pulled out
the rifle she'd cleaned, loaded, and tucked away just in case something like this happened.

“What are you doing with that?”

“Protecting what's mine.”

Rory eyed her. “I am going out there.”

“I'm not stopping you, but I'm not going out there without this gun. If Derek is with my brother, I'm not letting him get a piece of me. Or you.”

“Do you know how to use that thing?”

“Yes. I do. Very well.”

The banging stopped. The ensuing quiet turned to an eerie silence that thickened the tension between her and Rory.

“Let me go in first. If it's just your brother, we'll talk to him, see if we can get him to turn himself in.” Rory pulled out his cell phone, scrolled through his contact list, and hit dial.

“Who are you calling?”

“Deputy Foster—”

“Mark? You're calling the cops.” She shook her head and pinched back one side of her mouth in a half frown that didn't even faze him.

“It's Rory Kendrick. I'm at the Higgins place. Connor and maybe some of his friends are out in the barn. I'll try to detain him until you get here,” Rory told Mark.

Sadie sighed, opened the front door, and walked away from Rory. He had every right to call the deputy sheriff and let him know her brother was here, but she didn't have to like it. She wanted to protect the little boy she held on to in her mind, but she knew she could no longer help the man who'd chosen a life that led to nothing but ruin. Connor needed to face reality. If
she could get him to see reason and turn himself in to Mark, he might have a decent shot at making a deal to turn Derek over to the authorities. After all, Derek was the one forcing her brother to cook meth and sell it.

There you go again, making excuses for him.

She'd been doing it all her life. Hard to stop now, but like her father said, sometimes you have to let go of the rope, or you'll get burned. She needed to let go of the hope that the sweet little boy Connor had once been, before the drugs had erased him a little at a time, would somehow magically reappear. Not going to happen so long as Connor went headlong down the road to destruction.

Letting go wasn't as easy as it sounded.

“Sadie, hold up,” Rory called in an angry whisper.

“If he's in there, he's going to answer to me first. Then you can turn him over to the cops.”

Rory's dark gaze and frown reminded her of the man she used to see in him. Now she knew he wasn't that guy, and the ominous look in his eyes was because he didn't want her to get hurt again.

They made their way across the grass and weeds, drawing closer to the barn.

“The stupid thing is stuck.” Her brother's muffled voice carried out to them through one of the open barn doors leading out to a paddock.

“Bang it again. Get that damn barrel open. We don't have all night.”

Sadie stopped in her tracks at the sound of that familiar voice. It followed her into her nightmares each night.
I like to watch you bleed.

Rory stumbled into the back of her and grabbed her shoulders. He rubbed his hands up her trembling arms. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “What's wrong?”

She turned her face toward him and whispered back, “That's Derek.” The quake in her voice made Rory squeeze her shoulders.

“Give me the rifle and go back to the house. I'll take care of this.”

“Hurry the fuck up,” Derek ordered.

A shiver rocked her whole body, vibrating up her spine. Rory wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed the top of her head. “You're okay, sweetheart. I won't let anything happen to you.”

Sadie stiffened her spine and shook off her fear and Rory's embrace. She stood on her own and turned to face him. “You go that way around the back. They probably have a truck or something parked behind the barn. If they came in the back way, that's why we didn't hear them drive up. I'll go in through the front. I'll keep them focused on me and you make sure they don't leave before the sheriff's guys get here.”

“Scott and Tony took the smaller stashes out to Butte and Missoula. We need to get this to my guy tonight, or it'll be my ass, which means it will be yours, too,” Derek warned.

“This is a bad idea,” Rory said.

He was probably right. She tried to think of a better plan than facing off with a knife-wielding drug dealer.

She wrapped her fingers around Rory's arm. “I just thought of something. If my brother drove, he left the keys in the ignition. He always does. No one would steal his piece of crap truck. Get the keys, then they can't leave.”

“Cover the front, but do not go inside.” Rory touched
her chin, tilting her face up to his. He leaned down and planted a soft but quick kiss on her lips. He gave her one last resigned look and took off around the paddock to the back of the barn.

She hoped he found the keys in the truck and that stopped her brother and Derek from leaving long enough for the cops to arrive.

“Got it,” her brother said, drawing her closer to the front barn doors to get a better look and keep an eye on them. If they tried to go out the back before Rory had a chance to get the keys, she'd stop them.

“Fuck yeah. Pull it out and load up the bags,” Derek said.

Sadie snuck around the barn doors and slid along the aisle, her back against the stall wall. She stopped at one of the open gates and hid in the darkness. Her brother and Derek stood at the other end in a pool of weak light cast by a single bulb burning just outside the workroom door.

Connor pulled out several bags of packaged drugs from a fifty-five-gallon barrel and stuffed them into the duffel bag at his feet like stacked bricks. She'd never really noticed the barrels. They'd always been there, long ago used and left to rust as her father grew frail and the business dissipated along with his health.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Derek ordered.

“I'm going as fast as I can. Once we deliver this, I'm out. I don't owe you anything more.” Her brother's voice held little conviction. Too weak to stand up for himself, he'd keep going along so long as Derek threatened him. So long as Connor got the drugs he craved more than a life with his family.

“You're out when I say you're out.” Derek picked
up one of the drug bricks and tossed it on top of the others.

Sadie worried about Rory, moving around the back of the barn and approaching the truck. He wouldn't have much cover. If he got into the truck, Derek and Connor might spot him. Sweat broke out on her brow. She kept to the shadows, barely breathing, hoping they stalled these two losers long enough for the cops to arrive.

Connor leaned over and zipped the first duffel bag closed, grabbed the handles, stood up, and tossed it straight into Derek's chest. “Take that to the truck. I'll pack up the last of this, then we're out of here.”

Fear tore through Sadie's guts. She couldn't let Derek catch Rory.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Sadie stepped out of the shadows, the rifle butt tucked up against her shoulder, the barrel aimed right at Derek's chest.

Derek dropped the bag and walked back into the dim light, smiling in a way that sent a shiver of fear dancing up her spine. “You came back for more.” The glint of excitement in his eyes shone brighter than the light gleaming on the knife he pulled from his back.

“Take one step and I'll shoot you dead.”

“Yeah, right. You can barely hold that gun, let alone hit the side of this barn.”

Sadie kept her gaze locked on Derek but addressed her brother. “Who taught you how to shoot, Connor?”

“You did.”

“Who never misses?”

“You.” Connor tugged at his hair and swore under his breath. He scratched at his leg, then his arm, and
wiped the sweat from his face. Dark circles marred the undersides of his eyes. His pale skin made him look sickly, but it was nothing more than the drugs he kept pumping into his system. Just looking at him made her sad.

“Seriously, Derek, don't fuck with her. You got away with it once, doesn't look like she'll let you do it again.”

“That's right.” Sadie sent Derek the same menacing smile he'd given her.

Derek took a step toward her, testing her. She fired, missing his head by a good six inches and blasting a chunk of wood out of the workroom wall next to him. Splinters sprayed his hair and shoulder.

“I said don't fucking move.”

“Don't
you
fucking move.”

The deep voice startled her, but the hand that gripped her hair and the gun barrel pressed to the underside of her chin stunned her. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart stopped, and her mind went blank except for one thought.
I'm dead.

The man holding the gun moved from the side to stand in front of her, just off to the side of the rifle she still held pointed at Derek.

“You just had to come out of the shadows,” he whispered for only her to hear. “I hoped it wouldn't come to this.”

She eyed him wondering what he meant. Wasn't he with Derek and Connor? He looked like a thug. Shaggy dark hair brushed his shoulders and tattoos wove up his arms—an intricate tribal pattern overlaid with a twisting vine of wicked blades for leaves, an open rose in full bloom, and an ominous skull in the center of his forearm. But his softly spoken words and the resignation
and regret she caught in his eyes said there was more to him than the tough exterior.

He nudged the rifle with his shoulder. “Toss that to your brother.” His deep voice demanded one thing, but the hand softly holding her hair at the back of her neck said something else altogether.