15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Dante invited the new sheriff in for coffee and she sat hard in the chair across from him while Bruno brought them each a mug. As he sipped his, Vic Meyer snarked, "When were you fixing to tell me about Brooks being back in Montana?"

"Why, today, Mrs. Meyers," he said with a smooth grin.

"Right. Well, do you know where he is?"

"Not yet, but we have protections in place. I suggest the town button-down too. I've sent a few men to patrol there…gently."

"I've seen ‘em. That's why I knew something was up. Then I cornered a couple of the hands at the bunkhouse and got the truth out of ‘em. Not that I needed to. One kept checking his GPS. Kept pulling it out of his pocket and shaking it around."

"Oh, no!" Dante didn't have any intention of leaving out the sheriff, but he also didn't want her to prematurely call in the federal agents. "Vic, I know you're obliged to call in the FBI, but…"

"Actually, there's no proof he was ever out of Montana. A couple fuzzy pictures from gas stations isn't much proof. And he didn't kill anyone across this state line, so again, no need to call them. I should, you know."

"I know, Victoria. I do know, however, to have federal agents crawling all over this property, well, it would make some of my security detail…nervous to say the least."

"You mean them bikers and your boys? I just bet they would be nervous enough to piss themselves a few times. Like I said, no need of it right now, but me and my deputies are going to patrol the main roads on the place and the perimeter. I'm not asking, I'm telling."

"That is perfectly reasonable. Thank you."

She smirked a little. "Now, off my official record, I'd like to know when you catch him. And I have little doubt you will. You all are as tenacious as I've ever seen anyone. I thought little of you when you first took over. I'm sorry about that."

Dante felt relief at her words. He wasn't offended in the least. For someone so close to home as a woman like Vic Meyers, strangers were never seen as worthy of their precious places. "I'm glad we could change your mind."

"That's not easy. I set my jaw about someone; it sticks. You, building a place for people to come and be…happy. A place that is safe and joyous, that is a wonderful thing. I don't see how you'll make any money off it, but I suspect that's not a big concern for you."

Bruno smirked, and Dante caught him. "Bruno, would you like to join us?"

"Sorry, Boss."

Dante laughed and told her, "Victoria Meyers, you, my dear lady, are a thousand times smarter than you'd probably like people to know."

"And you're slicker than owl shit and I like you too, Dante Carrillo."

When she was driving off, Dante said to Bruno, "I do like her."

"She is good people."

"When are the volunteers going out, Bruno?"

"This morning, boss, and they're going in shifts. Ten hours a piece."

"Ten hours of being a target. Are they all wearing Kevlar? Are they armed?"

"Yes, Dante. You know all this. I know you don't want to lose anyone. These are men that have been through fights that would have killed most people. They're not going in blind, either."

Dante ran his fingers through his hair, watching Blaine play with the dogs in the far yard. Even Ming, that sweet old dog, was jumping and flipping around like a pup. "Everyone is getting a second wind in this place, Bruno. Even I feel younger, except right now."

"Dante, you're a good man. I think…I think it's going to work."

"Get on that tablet, Bruno, please, and check it every few minutes for Selestino. If he thinks he's going to place himself in danger, I'll kill him myself. Either way and my brother will have my head, and I'll gladly give it to him."

"Sure, Boss."

*****

The first day of volunteers doing their jobs went smoothly, quietly. The second day the same. Smooth and quiet for everyone except Sel.

He paced the floor most of the ten hours that Indio was out there. He couldn't shake the man. As much as Sel tried to hate Indio, hate was still a passionate emotion, and that passion drove him.

The thoughts that went through his mind constantly, those fucking lips…he'd stared at them close up, wondering what they'd feel like against his own, against his flesh, kissing him, making him crazy.

It was stupid. Sel knew that. Dante would forbid it. His parents, well, they'd likely lose their minds. That in itself was insane since Antonio and Dante married people their parents didn't approve of. Sel's mother wasn't Italian. His grandparents were worried she'd never be able to deal with having a husband head a dangerous crime family. She not only stood her ground with Antonio but stood beside him during the worst of it, when he had to pretend to be dead once.

Blaine, well, no one thought that sweet, quiet man could keep up with Dante. He'd proven himself to be a calming influence on his crazy, high-strung uncle. Indio…not that Sel saw them getting married, but he thought anyone who'd object would be hypocrites.

It had to mean something that he hadn't been able to shake the guy, or those crazy eyes of his. Not only was the color of them unique, but they also held all his emotions. Those emotions he'd never allow on his face were clear in those beautiful eyes.

The others were out there, like Marius, who had men at home waiting for them. They were bad for Sel, too. He comforted his friends as they stressed over their men.

Mal himself would go next, and Sel asked to be on one of the teams that watched for him. Dante, of course, said no. He wanted Sel safe at the farmhouse and if he stepped one foot out of there, Dante would know, thanks to the damn GPS tracker.

"I'm so scared for Mal," Prince said as he sat with them on the porch on that third day. "Dex, of course, when he was out there last night, I was crazy worried, but Mal is so…"

"Small," Ruben finished. "I know. Marius and Dex both are way bigger. Mal's no bigger than me, and I'm a shrimp."

Just then, they heard a motorcycle, and Sel's stomach did a flip, thinking it could be Indio, but as it neared, they saw Kirk coming.

"What? I thought he was on the team watching Mal," Binx said, a quiver in his voice.

Nathan and Pappy came out of the house, and by their faces, they were worried, too. All those left at the house ran down the stairs to meet Kirk as he parked his motorcycle and cut the engine.

"Is Mal okay?" Sel asked first.

"He's fine, everyone. Sorry for worrying you. He doesn't want me there. He said he's too worried about my reaction if the guy shows up, and I hate it, but he's right."

They were all relieved, but Sel could see how upset Kirk was. "He's right, but this has to be torture for you."

"I wasn't going to leave, but he threatened to take his GPS tracker and toss it away if I didn't go."

As they all accompanied him up the stairs, Sel hung back as those words dug a hole in his head and nestled there as his hand slid into the front pocket of his jeans to rest on his own tracker.

Anywhere the tracker was, that was where Sel would be, at least to anyone watching the screens. He could be on Indio's watch crew and no one would be the wiser. He could tell the others he was allowed to be there or Dante would have a fit. No. For sure, someone would know. Someone would call Dante to make sure.

No, he'd have to go alone. Sure, that was dangerous, but he wouldn't be far from the watch crew. He was sure he could scream loud enough to be heard if anyone tried to snatch him. Suddenly, his excitement overwhelmed him.

He went to take the tablet that Mal had been using to watch over Marius and Dex when they were out alone, heading up the stairs into his room, closing the door behind him. After sitting on his bed, he quickly went to the screen that showed them all, everyone at the ranch. It wasn't hard to find Indio, as he was one watcher for Mal. He'd just been up all night, being the guinea pig. Now, he was watching Mal. It was a lot.

Knowing Indio would be out there alone that night, Sel made a plan. First, however, he needed help. And not one of his new friends could know what he was planning. They'd never let him.

Also, they'd never believe he was still there if he kept his GPS in his room. He had to convince both his uncle and new friends that he was in the place they weren't. That wouldn't be easy.

"Binx," he said. Indio would be gone at night. Alone in the dark. Sure, he was a tough guy, probably tougher than half the men who worked for their family, but still…if anything happened to him before Sel could figure out what he felt for the asshole…

No. He'd be sent home. If anyone found out what he was even thinking, he'd be back in LA before he knew what was happening. Sitting on his bed, his head in his hands, he thought about it for over an hour.

The plan was simple enough, and he wouldn't get caught if he was careful. Leaving his phone in his room, so he couldn't be tracked by it either, and taking the tablet with him, he went down to the kitchen where Binx seemed to live, and sure enough, he was stuffing orange halves into a line of whole chickens.

"Hey, Sel! Where you been?"

"Headache," he lied, and felt like an ass. He hated lying, especially to his friends. "My uncle gave me a chore. Busy work," he complained, again feeling like absolute dirt.

"Oh, what's that?"

"I need to check everyone's trackers, make sure the serial numbers match the person. With so many having more than one, you know, partner…"

"Ah, I see."

Binx washed his hands after stuffing the last of the four chickens, then took his tracker out of the pocket of his jeans. "Here you go."

Sel turned around and took his own from his pocket, while pretending to look at Binx's numbers that were on the back of each tracker. Trading them was an easy sleight-of-hand, and he handed Binx his own tracker while pocketing the one Binx had been given. "Thanks."

"No problem. What's up, anyway? Are you…still worried about Mal, or…maybe someone else?"

"Can it be both, and that's the end of it?"

"Sure," he said kindly. "You know, Sel, we're on your side, no matter what."

He knew that was true, but Sel also knew that Binx wouldn't be on his side if he knew what Sel was planning. "Thanks, Binxie. I, uh, I'm heading to my uncle's tonight, you know, after dinner. I don't want to miss your food."

"It's only roast chicken. I need to send someone out to get some more provisions for me, unless everyone likes rice and beans for every meal."

"I'll let Bennie know when he's back from his guinea pig gig."

"I hate that. I hate anyone has to do this."

"Me too, but it's the only way Alex Brooks attacked last time. People alone on the ranch. It's scary, but hopefully we get him before anyone else dies."

Binx further made him feel terrible when he hugged Sel and whispered, "Indio is going to be okay. Mal is. We all will. I won't let it be anything except that."

"Binx…you're so…sweet."

Binx kissed him on the cheek. "So are you, Sel."

That almost changed his mind, but he couldn't let it. He wanted to know, with his own eyes, that Indio was safe. He hid the tablet in the breezeway near the basket that contained the guns that were extras for anyone that might need one, in case Brooks showed around the farmhouse.

Sel wasn't even sure why he was so worried. He reasoned it was how he wanted to know what he felt about Indio, but that wasn't necessarily true. Sel knew he wanted to get to know Indio better. But what he really wanted was to be part of things.

Tired of being protected, like Indio had accused. Wanting to be there, seeing and doing instead of back where he was cushioned and pampered. Not one member of his family would be where he was, if they could be out and doing something. Even his uncle was doing patrols.

He took Binx's tracker out of his pocket. Dante wouldn't think twice about Binx being out watching the volunteers.

After dinner, he and the others sat on the porch, like any other night. He wanted to be seen, have all eyes on him. Kirk was heading out after Mal came back to the farmhouse, taking food to those watching over the next set of volunteers that couldn't get back to eat.

Taking the pickup, that was how he was going. Sel would sneak into the back of it, hiding under the canvas they kept to cover the bikes if they'd have to take a broken down bike in it.

As Mal got back, they all hugged him, and he went into the house with Kirk. Sel knew that was the only shot he'd have to get away before Kirk left, while he and his partner were catching up.

"Hey, guys, I'm really tired. I think I'm going to head to my room."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Binx asked him.

"Yeah. I'm good, just a little headache."

Ruben jerked his head to the door. "Go sleep. We've all been tense. That's probably what's causing your headache."

"I could have Nathan look you over," Binx offered.

Possibly a little too quickly, he said, "No. No, I'm okay. It's just a little headache, like Ruben said, from the tension. I'll be great once I get some sleep."

They all bade him goodnight, and he hurried into the house, but didn't go up the stairs. Instead, he went to the kitchen, then through the breezeway there to the back door, grabbing the tablet and one of the Sig Sauer handguns that were in the basket. He also took Mal's black hoodie from the hook by the door before heading out into the night.

Thankful for the cover of darkness the location gave, not one streetlight to tell of his movement, Sel moved around the back, then the eastern side of the house as soundlessly as he could.

From the side of the house to the cars, that was the tricky part. His heart was pounding in his ears from the exhilaration and fear of being caught. He wore Mal's hoodie; he was cloaked from their eyes, and as he crouched low, he started running quietly until he came to the first vehicle, the black SUV.

Kirk either took his bike or the truck that had followed him and Mal. The road truck, he'd called it, in case any of the bikes had broken down on the way there. The food would be too hard to take on the bike, so he'd take that truck.

Looking toward the house, he saw everyone on the porch in the yellow light from the lamp by the door. They weren't rushing around, wondering where he was, so he was in the clear. He quickly climbed into the back of the truck and got under the heavy canvas that smelled of motor oil and made himself as small as possible. He waited for what seemed like hours, but finally he heard the driver's door open, felt the weight of the muscled giant as he sat behind the wheel, and then the engine started.

He let out his held breath and started bouncing a little as the truck moved over the dirt road.

Regrets ran through his head immediately. He knew if he'd been found out; knew he'd be sent home. His family would be so angry, they would never let him step foot outside his house again.

Was it worth it? Why was he doing it? Simple rebellion? He'd never had a rebellious bone in his body. Not one rebellious thought in his head. Selestino, the good kid, the mature kid, the one that watched out for the other kids in the family.

Selestino, the spoiled kid, the one protected and nurtured while the man he had a strange fascination with was likely put through hell growing up, leading to his hatred of those that weren't.

He lay in the truck's bed, covered by a stinking canvas, wondering what the hell he was doing, and knowing he would not turn back for anything. For the first time in his life, Sel felt like he was finally doing something important. Something that would mean something, if only for him.