The Family

Chapter 8

M rated

…

Jefferson Hyde felt the irritating itch of disloyalty. Laurel was literally throwing her clothes in a suitcase as she ranted about needing time to process Jessop's death. He'd known they'd been fooling around, but obviously he'd missed just how deeply involved they'd become. If he'd been paying attention or really cared he'd have put an end to it. But, he hadn't, and now he had an even bigger problem. She wanted to go back home to Charleston. She claimed she missed her friends and needed to talk things out with them. Things she said he wouldn't understand. What he did understand was the disaster it would be if he let her go.

He had wanted her the first time he saw her four years ago. He was attending a wedding at Magnolia Plantation. She was the bride's cousin, young and beautiful, and the sexiest damn woman there. Weddings are boring, but that one was memorable. He'd fucked her on the floor of the gazebo. She was silly drunk and had been more than willing to strip naked when he asked. That should have been a clue, but he hadn't cared at the time. She was a great fucker. Still was, but now it didn't matter. What mattered now was that she was a liability. He just wished she wasn't still so damn sexy.

"Laurel? Honey?" He spoke quietly as he moved between her and the suitcase. "Slow down, Sugar."

Her face was streaked with mascara. It was repulsive, but sexy. The tip of her tongue darted out between those pouty lips of hers and he felt himself harden. What the hell…one last time. He slid his hand inside her blouse, and he saw her eyes become sharp.

"What the hell are you doing?" She asked, instantly stepping back.

"Trying to get you to give up this stupid idea," he replied. "You love this place. Hell, you decorated it. I even got you that set of elk antlers to said you just had to have."

"That was before you got Jessop killed," she whimpered. "Now I hate this whole damn state. I need to go home…someplace with good memories…where I can go shopping and have a decent cocktail in the afternoon."

"One last fuck before you go?" His voice dropping as anger gnawed at his insides. "You wouldn't deny me that, would you, Peaches?"

"You know I hate that nickname," she said, struggling as he pulled her close.

"What did Jessop call you?" He asked, squeezing her arms. "Huh? What cute little names did he call you when you were fucking in my bed?"

He bit her neck as she struggled against his hold. He hated her for what she did with Jessop. Hated him too, but he was already dead.

"Stop it!" She cried. "He was sweet to me. He listened. He took his time."

"Time's up, Peaches," he growled.

"What? What does that mean?"

He could see her fear and it made him want her. He liked it when she was afraid of him. She was right. He had never been sweet to her, and he wouldn't be now. He wanted to make her sorry for all the times she'd fucked Jessop. He wanted to remind her that his dick was a helluva lot bigger than that slick little shit's ever was. He wanted her to beg for forgiveness and try to make him change his mind using the only attributes that made her worth a damn. Then he would give her to Kyle. That sick bastard would finish what he started and clean up the mess after. She wasn't going home, and by her screams, she knew it.

…

Deeks smiled when he saw Kensi come out of the house. She shaded her eyes with one hand and shyly waved to him with the other. In that moment he was struck by how truly lovely she was. Yes, she was sexy, but it was that soft smile that made his heart beat a little faster every time she blessed him with it. Just watching her walk towards him, anticipating her touch, another one of those smiles, a warm kiss…they all gave him comfort. And reminded him how much his world had changed since he fell in love with her.

"Hey, cowboy," she said as she put her hands on his chest and gave him that anticipated kiss.

"You've never called me that before," he responded, kissing her just beneath the ear.

"Apparently, Tilly, the seductress, wanted to play…and I quote…'cowboys and Indians'… with you and Elan," she replied. "Henry just passed on that little tidbit of information a minute ago. Joe thought it was funny. Elan not so much."

"And you? Funny? Or maybe an idea for future role playing…minus Elan of course."

"Remember those chaps you wore when we tried to go undercover at that motorcycle gang hang out?" she asked as she pressed against him. "Maybe just the chaps this time. Nothing else."

"Awesome. And what might you be wearing during this role playing scenario, Mrs. Bleeks?"

"How about that straw cowboy hat of yours?"

"Anything else?"

"Not a thing."

"And how do you expect me to function for the rest of the day with that image in my head?"

"Ready. Willing. And able," her kiss lingered this time, and he pulled her close, enveloped in the warmth of her familiar love.

"How did I get so lucky?" He whispered.

"It was a love story meant to be," she said as she leaned back and looked into his eyes. "It took us both a while, but it was always meant to be just like this."

"I love you," he said and held her gently like the treasured gift she was.

She leaned in and kissed the dark bruise under his eye. "I want to get whoever did this to you, baby."

"Just promise me you won't get hurt doing it. Or killed. Especially not killed," he said, suddenly chilled by the thought. "I can't lose you, Kens. My life would be meaningless without you in it."

"Ditto, Deeks. But we're going to watch each other's back, so nothing bad happens. Right?"

"Right. Okay, then," he said and kissed her lightly on the lips. "So, how did the big planning session go?"

"Not sure I liked it," she replied. "Hetty and Sam want to use you and Elan as bait."

"Seriously?"

"I said no. That's when the arguments started, and Callen came out here."

"He wants me to step back," Deeks said.

"Is that what you want to do? Because I'm good with that," Kensi said, cupping his cheek as she searched his eyes.

"What did Elan say?"

"Soldier and Lily argued against it, but Elan is in."

"Then so am I."

"Deeks…"

"Kens, I worked a lot of undercover drug busts as a cop, and the one sure way to blow a sting operation is to show up without the merchandise. You know what I'm talking about," he said. "There will be bad guys watching, and if Henry shows up alone, Tilly will walk, Henry will get made and then shot. You know I can't let that happen."

"And I can't let them shoot you either…or Elan."

"And I'm counting on that, baby."

"Deeks…are you sure you're up for this?"

He looked away, trying to answer that question himself. He couldn't deny he had doubts, or that flashbacks didn't plague him at odd times. But if he gave in, where would that leave him? He wanted to lie to her, to tell her he was fine, that the torture hadn't affected him deeply, but she would know he was lying. And he didn't want to lie to her.

"I have to do this, Kens," he said. "This is our family now...a family that changed my life. I can't let those bastards destroy it. I wouldn't be able to live with that any more than I could if I lost you."

"Okay, baby. We'll do this together. We'll bring them down, and keep each other and this wonderful, crazy old family safe," she whispered and pulled him close.

…

Tilly was an exotic being. A rare woman unencumbered by sentiment, and unbothered by violence. All of that was packaged in a body ripe for sex, if one had the nerve to propose it. That kind of proposal was her prerogative, not any man's or another woman's. Kyle had seen her almost emasculate a young man for not reading her signals correctly. When Tilly said no, she really did mean it. But that was not to say that Kyle hadn't tried a time or two. It was only his position in the hierarchy of the family that kept her from denying him. He wasn't sure she enjoyed it, but he had. She hadn't minded the rough stuff. It might have been the only part she did enjoy. He wasn't sure. Now she stood just inside the door of his private cabin, and he wanted her.

He'd often wondered where Hyde had found her. The boss would never say, although he detected some sort of European accent. Czech, maybe. He wasn't sure, but she was hot in a slovenly sort of way. She had full lips and big hazel eyes. Her auburn hair was curly and always messy. He was sure she worked hard to make it look that way, and it was incredibly sexy. She looked like a slut, especially when she smiled and unbuttoned her blouse. It was all part of her allure for the marks Jeff sent her after. He had always been curious as to why Jeff had settled for Laurel when Tilly was there for the taking. But then Laurel had been a pushover and a lot more presentable in social situations. Tilly was anything but. Now, Laurel was under a tarp in the shed out back, and Tilly was in his living room in black jeans, knee high boots, and a red sweater that accentuated every curve and revealed just enough of her breasts to make his mouth water.

"You want to fuck me, don't you?" she said, raising her chin at him. "It's what all men want from me."

"We can do that later if you want," Kyle answered and poured himself another glass of bourbon. "Right now, tell me about the local deadbeat who found the hippy and the Indian."

"Business first? Okay," She said as she walked over to the sideboard and poured herself a drink. "Because, unless you're armed, there won't be a later."

"You want me to force you?" He asked. "I can. And I won't need a weapon to do it."

"Except the one between your legs? Yes?" She laughed and downed the bourbon in one swallow. "And maybe your fists?"

"Already did that," he said. "Laurel."

"Does Jefferson know?"

"He ordered it."

"Why?"

"She wanted to go home, and he couldn't let her do that," he said, downing his drink as he stared into the fireplace. "Now tell me about those boys you got a line on. I'm tired."

"Did she fight you?" She asked and began to unbutton his shirt. "Did she scream?"

He realized she was turned on by what he had done to Laurel. The room was suddenly very warm, and her perfume suffocating, but for some reason this seduction play made him angry, and he pushed her away. She laughed and he slapped her.

"She's dead, you little slut," he said gruffly. "Now what's the set up tonight? Where's the meet?"

"Too bad. I liked her," Tilly said, and poured more bourbon in her glass. "We fucked once. Jessop watched. I never got what she saw in that prick, but his interest was easy to understand. She had amazing tits. Men love tits. Most of them never look in my eyes, except for last night. With that local barfly."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"He was actually sweet, and just like most men, easily taken in," she said. "But when I started asking about the hippy and the Indian, his eyes became more focused. He knows them, but he lied and said he didn't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Instinct and a lifetime of experience," she breathed out with an arrogant smile.

"So, you think tonight is a set up?" Kyle asked. "What did he say when he called?"

"Said he knew where they'd be tonight," she replied, smugly swirling the bourbon around in her glass as she watched him. "Then he asked me how much I would pay for the information."

"Sounds like your sales pitch wasn't all that impressive," Kyle said with a gruff laugh. "I think he saw right through your little orgy offer. Saw an opportunity to fuck you in a way that padded his wallet. Smart guy."

"He didn't look like he needed money, Kyle. He looked cagey…like he was playing me. I'm telling you, something's not right about this guy. I wouldn't trust him if I were you."

"You're just pissed because one of your marks saw you for what you are."

"And what is that, Kyle?" She became very still and there was pure malice in her eyes.

"You know what you are, sweetheart. So don't get all 'holier than thou' with me."

"You think you're better than me, don't you?"

"Yeah, I am. And you really don't want to forget that," he snarled as he shoved her up against the sideboard. "You're not as special as you think you are, Tilly. You're a whore hired to do any job we tell you to do. And tonight, you'll finish that job, or you'll end up under a tarp in the shed with Laurel."

"And fucked?"

"Totally."

There was something in her expression he couldn't quite read, and he didn't like it. He wondered briefly if she might be planning to double-cross them, but that would be stupid and Tilly wasn't a stupid woman. She thought she was special...untouchable. He wanted to beat the shit out of her right now, to show her she wasn't, but he couldn't without compromising the meet. She knew that. Maybe that was the look he saw on her face when she walked past him.

"I offered him five hundred dollars," she said as she picked up her coat. "He asked for more, but I said take it or leave it. They'll be in an old rail car…a caboose…just off Saratoga Lake Road. He said the Indian lives there."

"What time?"

"I'm supposed to meet the guy there at eleven," she said casually. "Bring the money. I'm just the hired help."

With that parting shot she slid into her coat and slammed out the door.

He was so pissed he had to fight for control. He was tempted to follow her, to take her to the ground and strip her naked in the mud. She was arrogant, something he hated in a woman, something he enjoyed making them regret. Her time would come. Maybe he and Jeff could do her together. A way to celebrate the taking of the hippy and the Indian. Why shoot them on sight? Why not take them and bring them up here? Finish what Soji had started. He and Jeff could watch Tilly fuck their asses off. Jeff would probably like literally fucking a federal agent. There was symmetry in that. And then they could kill them all. Slowly and precisely. Especially Tilly. He wanted to hear her scream. He needed that.

…

Brother Ambrose had a furtive look on his face when he stepped out of the helicopter just before sunset. He'd always been insolent, and Hyde had always tolerated it, but now wondered what he was hiding. The Feds had been after him for a long time, but could never find enough evidence to charge him, unlike his situation. But the man had come when he'd called, and he appreciated that. He just hoped the preacher didn't have another agenda that might compromise his operation here.

"Welcome to Wyoming, old friend," Hyde said as he ushered him toward the house.

"Helluva place to end up," was all he said, remaining silent all the way up to the house.

"You drinkin' these days?" Hyde asked as the big man peered around the living room.

"It's a link in the Devil's chains, Brother Hyde," he said, scolding him with a soft smile. "My boys brought their own."

"How many with you?" Hyde asked.

"Brung five. Two of 'em are my sons," he replied. "Don't think you'll need more, but if you do, just ask. Lots of 'em wanted to follow the call of their prophet."

"Is that what they think you are?" Hyde asked.

"Belief is a powerful weapon, Brother Jefferson," the old man said. "And I know how to use it."

"Still preaching?"

"Still got my church over in Ridgeland. Ain't as big no more, but it fills my needs."

"Still getting converts from the correctional facility there?"

"Half my congregation come from inside those walls," he laughed. "Them boys love me. Do whatever I ask. Loyalty is the first commandment."

"Amen, brother," he said. "They probably love the drugs you supply too."

"What's your deal here?" Ambrose asked, ignoring his remark. "Know you had to run somewheres. You ain't the kind to want to spend the rest of your days in the Federal prison system. But Wyoming? A little raw for you and Laurel, ain't it. Leavin' all your fancy suits behind to mix with common folks must have been humbling?"

"I'm not mixing with anybody I don't personally know," he replied. "That's kind of the point."

"Watch out who you trust. There are vipers among us, brother," the old man warned. "The Lord probably ain't looking out for you, though I do believe he'd forgive your sins if you ask."

"I'm not in the mood," Hyde snapped. "We all got sins on our tab. Even you."

"Oh, I got plenty, but God likes me. Decided to bless me," he replied. "Just bought me a new Ford F-450, and a new doublewide for the kids."

"Do you believe your own bullshit, Ambrose?" Hyde asked. "You're a goddamn drug dealer."

"But God forgives me my trespasses," he said, his jaw tight. "How about you? What sins made you call me for help?"

"The sin of listening to my damn wife," he said and poured himself a drink.

"I just might need a sip of what you're drinkin' while you tell me that story."

"One more sin that won't matter?"

"God ain't picky about the small stuff," he said with a smile as he poured himself a generous dollop of bourbon. "Laurel around? Women always got their own side to a story."

"Let's just say, she reaped her just rewards," Hyde said, watching keenly for the man's reaction.

"Nasty business, brother," he said softly. "Justified?"

Hyde nodded and the man bowed his head and seemed to be praying. Thankfully it was silently. It was disturbing and insulting. He was an unholy hypocrite, an old war horse who regularly beat the crap out of his third wife. No one knew what happened to the first two, but there were rumors. He used a tire iron to keep his sons in line, and the one daughter he'd had, ran off with the first boy who paid any attention to her. They were both found dead in his truck at the bottom of a ravine. Cops said it was an accident. Nobody who really knew Brother Ambrose believed it.

"You gonna tell me why I'm here?" The old man asked when he was done praying.

Hyde told him the story, watching the man's expressions change as he spoke. During the telling, Kyle Taft walked in, shooting a look his way that exposed his true feelings about Brother Ambrose. They had history. A long and violent one. Hyde had never been given the reason behind the hatred that simmered between the two men, but he needed them to put that aside for now. There was no room for in fighting. Not now.

"How the fuck are you, preacher man?" Taft called out. "Still screwing your parishioners? And I mean that literally. Those ex-cons are a horny bunch."

Brother Ambrose could move fast for a big old man, but Taft had his gun out and pointed at his face before he could act on his outrage.

"Enough!" Hyde shouted. "Settle your damn feud another time. This is business. These local cowboys need a lesson. Nobody messes with our family. So, I'm calling a truce. None of this bullshit till their whole family gets what they deserve for fucking with ours."

"Don't forget about the Indian," Kyle said as he secured his weapon. "He's the one killed Soji."

"Soji's dead?" Ambrose said. "Then that's no ordinary Indian. The devil has darkened his soul."

"You would know," Kyle said as he poured himself a drink.

"I'm a man of God, boy," Brother Ambrose bellowed.

"You better check on that before you go up against these fuckers," Kyle said. "Soji ain't the only one they killed."

Brother Ambrose turned to glare at Hyde. "How many?"

"Too many," Hyde said. "They talk about retribution in that Bible of yours, don't they Ambrose? That's what you and your boys are here to do."

"We gonna bring fire and brimstone down on their heads! Amen!" He shouted to the rafters.

Hyde looked over at Taft and saw his eyes go reptilian, and that was never good. This might get messy, and he realized he'd better find a way to avoid the fallout if it did.

…

…