Chapter Nine
“What’s our plan?” Ryan asked from the backseat as the SUV bumped and rattled along the road riddled with potholes and last winter’s frost heaves.
Sam was only half listening, every muscle in his body tense with the need to go get her and never, ever let her out of his sight again. Or at least until they got back to some semblance of normal together. Please, God, together.
“Sutton will go in first, see if Dunphy can be reasoned with,” his father answered. Sam and Ryan both snorted. “I know, but it will give us the lay of the land. And if by some chance it works, we can get them both out without a shot fired.”
“And when that doesn’t work?”
“We’ll know what he’s got for numbers and weapons and go in prepared.” His father’s mouth was set in a grim line, his eyes on the road.
They fell quiet as they drove into the village. Dunphy’s hideout was tucked up into the forest above the site of a defunct hotel. The only tourists who came through here now were serious hikers, and the population had dwindled severely with the fall of the logging industry. All of which made it perfect for someone like Dunphy. Half the locals were probably related to the fucker.
They met Sutton at the sole gas station and followed him up and out of town. Sam held his breath the whole time, expecting Dunphy’s goons to come out of the trees at any second, but it remained eerily quiet. Sutton signaled for them to stop their trucks while they were still out of earshot of the house, and opened his door. Sam and his father followed suit.
“I’ll go ahead—hopefully they don’t know we’re coming. If I don’t make it back down in an hour, assume they’re extremely hostile.”
His father nodded and they got back into their cars. Sam watched Sutton’s truck trundle up the hill with a sick feeling in his gut. If he didn’t come back down, with or without Callie, they were going in blind. There was no way they could send a scout, even on foot, without risking one of Dunphy’s goons hearing or smelling him. Their only choice would be to go in armed to the teeth, and hope for the best. He couldn’t wait for the council to act. Callie had already been stuck with the weaselly motherfucker for hours. Sam didn’t want to imagine what they might have done to her. And Bren.
The helpless waiting was killing him. “I need some air.” He reached for the handle and his father locked the doors.
“Roll down a window.”
“I can’t sit here.” His legs were jiggling, his skin was too tight, and if he ran his hands through his hair one more time he was going to pull out hanks of it.
His father nodded at the windshield. Sutton was coming back down, alone. They all piled out of their cars and huddled by the grille of Sutton’s truck.
“He says he doesn’t have them.”
“Bullshit.”
“I know. I had to let him think a verbal denial would be the end of it. They’re in there. I could smell them.”
“Where? What do we do?”
Sutton held up his palms. His father put a hand on Sam’s biceps. “Easy, son. How many guards?”
“It’s a single room with two men on Dunphy, two by what I’m fairly certain is the door to the root cellar, one on the porch, another on a window well, maybe more in the woods, all armed for an elephant hunt.”
His father nodded. “If he’s got someone on the door and on the window well, they’re in the root cellar.” He turned to face the rest of them. “Which means we have to get into the house.”
“Let’s go.” No amount of careful planning was going to get them out of what they had to do. His father’s large hand gripped the back of his neck, hard. No one had done that to him since he was a little kid.
“No. You go in there half-cocked, you’ll get yourself killed.”
Sam rubbed the back of his neck when his father let go, chastened but still itchy to get moving and do something. The longer they waited and planned, the more damage Dunphy could do to Callie. They assessed their weapons, added Sutton’s guns and stash of veterinary sedatives—”Large animal vet.” and he shrugged—to the tally, and his father assigned them positions.
“Sam, we’ll cover you. Get to the door and get them out. Don’t engage unless you have to on the way in, do whatever you have to do on the way out. Incapacitate if you can, kill shot if you have no choice. We’re not trying to start a war here.” He nodded once and gestured for the others to move up the hill. He held Sam back with a hand on his arm. “Get your head on straight, son.”
Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He pictured Callie, brazenly dropping her clothes for a run up to the swimming hole, the way she’d tasted fresh from the water and spread out on the sun-warmed rock. “I’m bringing her home, Dad.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
They stalked through the woods, scenting the air. Sam blessed the thick carpet of pine needles that muffled their steps. The house came into view at the center of a small clearing, all quiet. Sutton silently pointed out the two guarding the outside; they hadn’t encountered any others. They should have been on high alert after Sutton’s unexpected visit, but the one was leaning against the porch with a rifle slung over his shoulder and the other paced around the window well kicking grass like a kid who got lost on the soccer field. Criminal masterminds they weren’t.
Dunphy wasn’t bright enough for any of this. He was nothing more than a small-time thug who liked to complain about his father’s assimilationist agenda. Someone else was behind this sudden switch from idle grumbling to action. All the more reason to get Callie and Bren out of there as quickly as possible.
The seven of them gathered around the edge of the clearing. The second a shot was fired, all hell would break loose. Getting close enough to use a needle full of horse tranquilizers was trickier, but stealthier. They all froze, waiting for the perfect moment for Colin and Ryan to move in.
“I’m taking a piss,” the window well goon yelled and shuffled off toward where Ryan hid in the trees.
Ryan moved before the guy even had a chance to get his pants down. He covered the goon’s mouth with one hand and jammed the needle into his neck with the other. As soon as Ryan had him on the ground, their father signaled the others to make their moves. Ryan pocketed the empty needle and moved across the clearing, crouching low in the high grass. He and Colin took out the porch goon with a well-placed punch from one side and a needle from the other. It would have been comical if Callie wasn’t in the house.
Sam’s father squeezed his shoulder once. “Follow once we’re inside. Get them out, get them down the hill, then take the truck and go.”
Sam nodded. His only job, his only focus, was getting Callie and Bren.
With the outside guards taken out, the other six crept onto the porch, led by Sutton. As soon as he opened the door, chaos erupted and Sam sprinted for it, gun drawn.
He flew into the house and skidded to a halt at the door to the root cellar, gunshots ringing in his ears in the tight space. Flooded with adrenaline, he used the butt of his gun to break the padlock and flipped the deadbolts. His feet pounded down the steps, narrowly avoiding missing treads.
Callie and Bren launched themselves from the far corner, armed with a couple of wooden boards. Callie dropped the plank midswing, eyes wide and unbelieving. He couldn’t stop to soothe her. He’d spend the rest of their lives making this up to her, but they had to move.
He handed them both a gun and grabbed Callie by the shoulders as gently as he could. “Stay close behind me, between me and Bren. As soon as we hit the door, run. Use this if you have to, but we’ll be covering you. Get across the yard and down the hill as quickly as possible. That’s all you have to do.” She nodded dumbly. He took her hand and led her upstairs, where it was still chaos. Callie blinked. They couldn’t stop. “Callie, run,” he yelled and tugged on her hand.
Shaken into action, she ran with him through the front door, off the porch and into the woods. Every time she stumbled over a root, he felt a jolt of terror that it would be the slip that cost them their lead. He couldn’t be sure one of them hadn’t followed. Didn’t stop to look as they flew around the trees, his sole focus on getting them to the truck and as far away from this godforsaken hill as possible.
He picked up Callie and threw her into the cab, too desperate to get her out of there to trust her to climb in on her own. Bren threw himself into the back and Sam threw the truck in Reverse. He waited until they passed out of the village to breathe a sigh of relief. Callie sat next to him, looking thoroughly shell-shocked.
“Sam?” she asked in a small voice.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
“Can we pull over? I think I need to throw up.”
Sam pulled over onto the narrow shoulder and got out with her. He rubbed her back while she heaved over the guardrail and Bren watched the road from the driver’s seat.
After a few minutes, Callie straightened and threw herself into his chest. “I’m so fucking sorry,” she wailed. “I should never have left. I shouldn’t have doubted you. I should have listened.” She dissolved into tears, clutching his shirt.
He held her and stroked her tangled hair. “I’m sorry, too. I should have told you from the beginning. I should have trusted you. I gave you every reason to doubt me.”
“No.” She cupped his face in her hands. “You’ve been my best friend since I was five. You’ve never lied to me about anything you didn’t feel you had to. You were trying to keep me safe. And I’m an asshole who put everyone in danger and I love you and you came for me and I’m scared you’ll hate me forever for making you come for me and—”
He pulled her to his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Callie, I love you. I will always, always come for you. Now let’s go home.”
They climbed into the backseat, where Callie rested her head on his shoulder and promptly fell asleep.
* * *
She woke up as they pulled into the driveway at Sam’s parents’ house. His mom and aunts ran out to meet the car as it rolled to a stop. Bren held his mother while she sobbed and clutched at his shoulders. Sam gingerly set Callie on her feet before he wrapped his arms around his mom. Callie stepped back and leaned against the door of the truck. Melissa and Brigid and Morri had risked their husbands, brothers and sons, and it was all her fault.
Brigid let go of her son and held her arms out. “Callie, come here.” Callie came forward from behind Sam, Brigid pulled her into a bear hug, and Callie’s chin wobbled. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re home.” Brigid stroked her back. “Let’s get you inside, okay? By the time you take a shower and a nap, the others will be back.”
“They called?” Sam asked.
Brigid nodded and let go, and Callie sagged with relief against Sam’s solid chest. “They’ve got some cleaning up to do, but they’re all coming home.”
“Dunphy?”
“Will be bitching about the bullet in his hide for a couple of days,” Brigid answered with a smile.
“What happens to him then?” Callie clenched her fists. She wanted that weasel to pay.
“Hugh rallied the council. He’ll be dealt with, I promise you,” Melissa answered with a fierce look that said if the council didn’t take care of it, the family would.
“Everybody inside, come on. Sam, help Callie to the shower. I’ll get her some pajamas and you can put her in your bed.” She cupped Callie’s cheeks in her warm, soft hands. “You need some rest. We all do.”
They trundled into the house as one and Sam took her upstairs to the bathroom. As the adrenaline started to leave her body, she was overcome with a level of exhaustion she’d never felt. She could barely muster the energy to pull her shirt over her head. Sam turned as if he was going to leave her alone to shower.
“Don’t go.” She didn’t trust herself to stay on her feet and she didn’t want to be alone.
“Wasn’t going to.” He handed her a towel and a fresh toothbrush from the closet and started the water. “I wasn’t planning on letting you out of my sight for at least six months, maybe a year.” He started to shuck his own clothes. “Go on, I’ll be right behind you.”
She brushed her teeth, then stepped into the shower, feeling the fear seep out of her system with the dirt and sweat the hot water carried down the drain. She was with Sam. She was safe. Everyone would come home and Dunphy would be forced to answer for what he’d done. She stood under the stream with her eyes closed, not moving to pick up the shampoo or soap, though she desperately needed both.
The curtain twitched and Sam joined her. He kissed her between the eyes, spun her around slowly and washed her hair. She leaned against his chest and let him scrub her scalp with his strong fingers, groaning with pleasure and exhaustion. He rinsed her hair clean and soaped her body, gently massaging as he went, Callie feeling like she was going to melt into a puddle at any moment. Then he gave himself a quick rinse and toweled her off.
Sam helped her dress in her borrowed pajamas and put her in his childhood bed, bundled with blankets. She was cold in spite of it being July. Sam put on an old T-shirt and pair of shorts he found in a drawer.
“Scoot over.” He got into the narrow bed next to her and pulled her against him to spoon, blankets and all. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Callie, I’m not leaving you, I promise.”
“What happens now?”
“You get some sleep.”
She nudged him with her blanket-padded elbow. “You know what I mean.”
He kissed the crown of her head. “I know.” He squeezed her once. “The problem is I don’t know what happens now. Dunphy gets dealt with, but I have a feeling he’s not the end of it.”
“So does Bren.”
“So we try to figure out what the hell is going on, and get back to something resembling normal.”
“I don’t think there’s such a thing as normal anymore.”
He sighed. “You’re probably right.” He kissed her behind her ear. “Then I guess we decide what’s normal, now.”
Callie wiggled in the blankets until she faced him. “This. I want this to be normal. Not the being in your parents’ house part, but this, you and me, together—”
He cut her off. “You babble when you’re nervous.”
“I know.”
“Callie, I love you. I belong to you, I always have. I’m not leaving unless you kick me out.”
Her mind settled. “I belong to you, too. She’s been trying to tell me that all along.”
Sam lifted her chin and kissed her, gentle and slow, a comfort instead of an invitation for more. “I know. Mine too. Now get some sleep.”