Cocky Secrets (Cocker Brothers #29)

71. Honey Badger

SEVENTY-ONE

Honey Badger

F uck, this wind isn’t just loud it’s snapping cold, too. I mean motherfucking gangrene toes falling off from frostbite cold. Gotta make sure she gets to her car okay though, and not freak her out in the process, so I’m staying far back. A block and a half of distance at least.

I have a habit of scaring the shit out of women.

Men, too.

Don’t want to do that tonight.

I want to protect her.

Saw her leaving the hotel late last night, too. I’ve seen bad shit go down in my lifetime, man. This is not the hour for a lady like her to be walking by herself, even in a tiny-ass town like this one.

Just over the hill are Meth users.

A common pastime for losers who have nothing better to do but smoke that shit is to steal to pay for their habit. And who best to rob than a woman by herself when everyone who could hear her screaming is sleeping?

What the fuck was that?

Was that laughter?

Adrenaline is a familiar comrade as I break into a sprint and tear around the corner.

I got here in time.

They both have their pants up. But she’s on the ground, her dress around her hips and her panties twisted at the strap from being pulled at.

Two minutes later and these two demons would know what murder felt like.

Fire shoots up my neck as I leap through the air and land right next to the struggle. Grabbing one guy’s collar I toss him into the street and simultaneously hammer-fist the other guy’s face into a wall.

Not just once.

Six times.

Until he’s good and bloody.

His evil friend charges me.

I shoot my left leg in a back-kick and knock the motherfucker on his ass, spinning around to make sure he stays there. I kick his gut in, and then start pounding his face with my knuckles until he’s a pulp.

Near death but not quite there.

When his grunts silence and he passes out, I turn for her.

How the fuck did I let this happen? I’d given myself too much distance. I’m so fucking stupid! I can’t believe I did this. And that wind, man, on the larger street it was deafening.

The shy redhead I’ve struggled to get the nerve to talk to ever since I spotted her three nights ago is on the ground and it’s my fault.

While I took those guys out, she’d pushed the long skirt of her Victorian costume between her legs for modesty, and silent tears are dripping off her chin. Her auburn hair is out of the bobby pins, the once-perfect ringlets crunched into odd shapes. The bonnet is hanging from its ribbon around her neck. Her glasses, that I thought were fucking adorable, are in fragments near her feet. She’s staring at me but I can tell she’s not in there anymore. I’ve seen that look too often on the many faces of victims I’ve saved.

Pulling the hammer-fisted fuckhead out of the way, I kneel in front of her and ask, in as gentle a voice as I’m capable of, “You okay?” It sounds more like a growl, but I can’t help how I talk.

She swallows and nods, blinking at me. Oh shit, she’s near blind as a bat, isn’t she?

“I’m okay. They didn’t have time to…” she trails off, the rest of the sentence hanging between us like a bad smell.

I don’t dare touch her without her permission, but I offer my hand in case she wants help up.

“They’re not gonna hurt you no more. You’re safe with me.”

She slips her hand in mine, and gives a strangled whisper. “You’re that man, aren’t you?”

“Can you see me without your glasses?”

“Just outlines, but there’s a feeling.” Her voice trembles as she adds, “I have a feeling about you.”

This makes my heart pound because I have one, too. That’s why I stayed in town when my plan was to drive to San Francisco next, continue my search there.

“I won’t hurt you. You wanna take my hand? I’ll help you up.”

Her gloved fingers glide onto my naked palm and she whispers, “Thank you.”

“It’s what I do,” I shrug, slowly guiding her away from the scene. She nearly jumps out of her skin as she hears one of them moan. “They’re not dead,” I reassure her, because I don’t want her to think I’m a killer. Even though I am one, in a way. Depends on how you look at it. But I’d never hurt her. I’m selective about who breathes their last breath on my watch. “I left ‘em alive.”

She whispers, “I wish you hadn’t.”

My eyebrow cocks up as I glance to her profile. She’s staring forward, eyes heavy. Sniffling and shivering she keeps walking toward her car, but if she stays on this course she’ll run into that pine tree instead.

Out of instinct I put my arm around her. “It’s this way. I’ll help you. You want me to go back and finish ‘em off?”

She glances to me in surprise but, by the look that flashes across her pretty blue eyes, I can tell she’s seriously considering it. “No, thank you. My car is a dark blue Toyota.”

“How you gonna drive it if you can’t see?”

Fresh tears flow down her cheeks and she pulls away from me, covering her face. I shouldn’t have put my arm around her. She doesn’t know me. But it’s so fucking cold out.

“Here’s what you’ll do,” I grumble, hating to see her upset. “Get in the car. Call the cops. I can’t let them see me, but I’ll hide where I can watch and make sure you’re safe until they drive up. They can take you home.”

Blinking in thought she wipes her eyes and finally nods. “Okay, thank you.”

“Stop fuckin’ thankin’ me. This is what I do.”

“Sorry.” She digs in her coat pockets for her phone. Pulling out only her keys, she mumbles, “My phone’s not here! I had it when I left.”

“You have a purse?”

“No, I just used my pockets today. They’re so big.”

I’ve got a cell but no fucking way am I calling the cops. They’ll want to take me in for the beating I just gave those evil fucks, and that’s a backwards situation I want no part of.

“Hang on,” I tell her, sprinting back to the bodies.

Where the hell are you, phone?

There you are.

You snuck off into the dirty-ass corner.

Swiping if off the ground I stroll out with wary eyes scanning the bodies. Steam is coming out of their mouths, so they’re still breathing. The impulse to put an end to them is overwhelming. A less-experienced man who also had a childhood as shitty as mine wouldn’t be able to control this rage. I’m able to hold it at bay.

I don’t want to scare her away from me.

She might think she wants them dead right now – and doesn’t want to say it aloud – but she could change her mind and where would that leave me in her eyes? I’m not chancing it.

Too bad though.

Demons like them deserve worse than they got.

Jogging back I tell her, “It’s just me. I found your phone.” Forgetting my own strength I slap the phone into her hand so hard her arm dips. Her eyelashes flit to my face and she almost thanks me but stops herself.

Her shaky key fails to open the door. I can’t stomach watching her struggle anymore so I mutter, “Here,” and take it from her, easily sliding it into the lock and opening the door for her, something I’ve never done for anyone ever. She lowers herself in and tucks her full dress inside.

“Is any sticking out?”

“No. You’re all set,” I tell her. “Give me your phone again. I’ll dial.”

As soon as I hear it ringing I hand it back and quickly shut the door, heading off.

The wind’s picked up again and it’s colder than shit, but I’m not going anywhere until the police get here. They’ll never see me…not from where I’m hiding.