The Color of Jade (Jade Series Book 1) (14 page)

I knew Kane did the right thing by standing up to Morrison despite of his doubts and reservations. The repercussions could be devastating for my brothers, and those who stood with him. These men carried an unbelievable burden placed on their shoulders by no one but themselves and a tyrant who wanted to ruin lives, our lives. I decided right then that when Kane got home I would tell him even though he questioned his decision, he chose the right one.

“Thanks again, Marge. I can’t stay.”

“I know… You get home before the storm comes in.”

“See ya…”

My attention shifted from the grim conditions here in Little Creek to the chill in the air as I pushed open the door. The breeze blew stiffer compared to earlier as I walked outside and a shiver moved over me. Goosebumps surfaced over the skin of my arms exposing my chill as I picked up the pace with my head down against the breeze, towards Fire.

Tires screeched loudly and the smell of burnt rubber strong in the turbulent air. Pulled suddenly from my thoughts, I looked up. Damian’s brother Quinn and Rubin Morrison sat in their truck between Fire and I and she danced around nervously. The only way to her was around them and I hesitated for a minute then turned to go back inside when a devastatingly familiar voice behind me sent shivers up my spine.

“Hey there, Jade.”

This couldn’t be happening. Of all the places to run into Damian, here, alone at Marge’s was probably the worst. With only the schoolyard to the back of her property, Marge's was just a lonely store at the edge of town surrounded by mountains and a trail that led to distant homes.

I turned slowly to face him. A wildness in his eyes send ice through my veins as I drew in a sharp breath.

“What do you want, Damian?”

“You’re coming with me.”

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” I pleaded.

“No... Morrison wants to have a few words with you.”

“Why?” My heart sank. My breath quickened. I realized how afraid of Morrison I felt, even though I never met the man. From the way Kane talked about him, I didn't want to. “What does he want with me?”

He shrugged his shoulders, nonchalant and indifferent, but then a calculating grin emerged through his calloused eyes as they surfed over me. I didn't wait for his response as I saw that aside from Morrison's agenda, Damian had his own. I attempted to fold my arms across my chest to appear confident and hide myself from his glare. I realized I had Emery's present in my hand as the delicate pink bow distracted me. With a fleeting glance, I acknowledged it with annoyance. I couldn’t appear unafraid with a pink bow in my hands. “I'm not going to see Morrison without Kane.”

“He wants to talk to you alone.”

With numbing apprehension, my arms drifted slack to my sides. I took a couple steps back slowly over the cracked, oil-stained asphalt, and then stopped as he pressed forward robbing the distance I placed between us. He towered over me. I wanted to shrink into non-existence from his glare. My heart pounded with dread as I looked around for a way out. Goose bumps traveled up my neck and sent chills through my hair. Both tangible inclinations this wasn't just a horrible nightmare. I backed away again. He watched, unmoved. A discernible dare flickered through his eyes. Ruthless and intimidating with a spark, challenged by my refusal to let him persuade me so easily.

Marge’s store and parking lot sat vacant without a soul around and my heart sank rapidly in my chest at the realization. The Militia who were
supposed
to maintain order were absent from where they stood guard. How convenient for Damian that they disappeared. I looked down the side of the road. The disappointment must have shown on my face.

“Gage or your brothers aren’t here… No one is coming for you.”

The truck blocked my way. I couldn’t get to Fire and I would never make it home before they caught up with me if I ran. The trailhead next to the bridge seemed so far and Damian stood in between Marge’s store and me. I knew Damian trapped me, he knew as well. At that moment, he lunged after me. I jumped. Startled with a blood-curdling scream as I ran, away from Marge, away from Fire, towards the only place left for me to go, I headed for the trees.

“Marge!” I screamed. I hoped she heard me.

Damian ran after me. Somewhere along the way I, dropped Emery’s present. I ran across the street and bolted for the trail. He had the jump on me, the farther I moved from Marge’s, the faster he closed in. I almost made it to the bridge when he caught me. Persistent hands reached out, overpowering me. I fell to the side of the road. The gravel dug painfully and burned with the rawness of a fresh road rash as my shoulder took the brunt of the fall when I slid to a stop.

I screamed. I fought and wrestled with him to get away. He pinned me to the ground. I thrashed underneath him, desperate to be free. Lashing out, my fist caught his eye. Infuriated, Damian slapped me, the sting in my cheek grew to sharp stabs through my head. I kicked at him and he grabbed my leg then jerked me down the side of the road towards the truck. My back burned as the jagged gravel tore into my flesh like shattered glass.

The truck screeched to a halt alongside the bridge as Quinn jumped out. I twisted out of Damian's grasp and scrambled for my footing. He grabbed me from behind as his arms squeezed my hands to my chest. His rapid jagged breaths, heavy and hard, growled against the side of my cheek. His pungent breath, weighted with the malty smell of beer and stale cigarettes. The sounds of my own screams echoed through the trees, desperate for anyone to hear. Damian’s hand pressed tightly on my mouth as he muffled my cries and smothered my breath.

“I think it would be best if you come quietly!” Damian yelled. “You wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to your sister now, would you?” He said, as he attempted to haul me to the truck. He removed his hand from my mouth to open the truck door just as I felt I would pass out.

I gasped for air.

“Let go of me!”

How dare he? I needed to get free! I screamed and struggled to get away. Quinn reached us and grabbed my legs then they attempted to force me in the truck.

“Marge!” I cried again, as I managed to pull a leg free and I kicked Quinn, hitting him square in the chest. He dropped me as he thrust back and stumbled to get his footing. I cringed, as Quinn with widened eyes and arms flailing, tripped by the low guardrail of the bridge and fell over the side.

I gasped, shocked by what happened as Damian fell back from the momentum. We tumbled down the side of the embankment to the edge of the trees. Free from his grip I searched frantically for something, anything to aid in my escape. I brandished a stick, short, thick and heavy, about the size of a bat, the perfect size for a weapon. I lunged forward and swung. Somehow, I connected as a swift whoosh, rushed through the air. Damian furiously writhed from the blow and grasped his shoulder as he slumped to his knees.

I turned and looked quickly for Rubin as I scrambled away. Stunned, I saw him on the ground in front of the truck, pinned beneath someone's grip as he fought his own battle. Hidden partially from the fender, I couldn't see his attacker and didn’t stop to find out who restrained him as I watched a fisted hand meet Rubin's face.

I didn’t make it far before Damian grabbed me again. He flung me effortlessly over his shoulder. Air forced from my lungs with a sharp huff. He cursed as he carried me up the embankment towards the truck. He slammed me onto the ground, angered and grumbling something about my refusal to surrender. My head hit the road. I gasped for air. My breath knocked from my lungs.

“I am through messing around with you!” He fumed as he knelt over me.

His dark evil eyes grew heavy with rage and he held nothing back as he struck me again. It felt like I received a line driving fastball as a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my head. My surroundings spun around me. The blur of the trees and Damian overhead wouldn’t allow anything to be still. I tried to bring my hand up to my head to stop the motion, but I couldn’t move.

With the weight of his overpowering body, he pinned me to the ground. I couldn’t fight anymore. My chest caved with each breath as I tried to recover.

In a swift blur of motion, someone struck Damian as I heard the blunted pop of his jaw. He propelled off me, forced to the ground with a thud. Thrashing, brawling sounds of a struggle magnified in my ears.

I rolled slowly to my side in agonizing pain as the intensity of it shot through my body and moved up through my head. Tiny glinting stars circled about as my eyes and mind struggled to focus on the two figures, meshed together in the same distorted image as they fought beside me. I blinked, squeezing my eyes together to refocus as I slowly brought myself up to my hands and knees. My chance to get away.

Dazed, I stumbled to my feet and headed slowly down the trail. Quinn lay motionless in an awkward, twisted heap, face down on the jagged boulders thirty feet below the bridge. Blood surrounded him. So much blood. The porous rock stained forever a deep dark red, while blood dripped off and soaked into the gravel, disappearing into the raging water's edge. I looked up to the top of the bridge and back down to the swollen river. The rushing water roared as if angry he invaded the borders of the expanding torrent of freezing mountain runoff. I staggered, taken aback as I paused briefly to comprehend what I saw.

I faltered down the trail into the safety of the trees. The minutes churned by like hours and I couldn't distance myself from Damian fast enough as I moved towards home. I tried to run but the swaying motion caused by my lightheadedness, thrust me to the ground. I rolled to my back as restless trees whirled above me. The grayish daylight around me became increasingly bright and I felt myself fade, as the enclosing shadows of the forest grew darker. I lost my fight to focus. Dizziness consumed me. I lay still as the sounds of my tired breaths echoed loud in my head. Everything moved in a hazy slow motion. The thud of heavy footsteps against the hard-packed dirt trail, headed towards me. I panicked once more. Hands grabbed me as I tried to get up.

“No!  Stop!” I cried, as I tried to fight back again, but I had nothing left.

“Jade, it’s me… I’m not going to hurt you.” I stopped struggling. By the sound of his voice, I didn’t need to look through the blur to know Gage knelt at my side. My hands slowly found my face as I covered it and I rolled to my side in pain. My body shook uncontrollably. I tried to grasp my emotions but as the shock wore off, the tears fell and I started to sob. I felt the gentleness in his hand as he brushed my hair back. My tears slowed as I calmed under his touch. Gradually, the dizziness turned into a throb in my head. With his arms around me, he helped me to sit as I slowly regained focus.

“You’re hurt,” he said as he picked me up and set me against the coarse trunk of a tree. Gingerly he brushed tears from my cheeks with his thumb. With damp eyes, I watched him as he looked over me, concern written deeply in his face. “We need to get you home.”

“Was Quinn
dead?
”

“Yeah…”

“I killed him?” I asked through panicked sobs as my heart raced in my chest, my eyes darted about in desperation.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. They did this!   Not you!  And one way or another, they
will
get what they have coming!” Gage fumed, clenching his jaw as his brows furrowed over his intensely angry, cobalt eyes. Then his eyes softened as he turned his attention to my immediate needs. “Can you walk? We need to go now. The Militia won't be far behind us.”

“Yeah.”

It would only be a matter of time before the patrol passed Marge's, only to see Damian and Rubin beaten. They wouldn't have to look too far to find Quinn dead. They combed the main streets thoroughly on a timely basis, every fifteen minutes to be exact as they invoked intimidation and watched for signs of trouble.

Suddenly, the firehouse siren screeched eerily through the air. My stomach twisted into a knot and sank like a stone in my gut. Morrison had turned the once familiar noontime call and emergent alarm for the volunteer firefighters, into an alert to all Militia. An alert to look for me. There wasn’t a place in Little Creek the long ear piercing drawl of the siren couldn’t be heard from as it warned the Militia of trouble and reminded the towns people who remained in control, who to fear, who not to turn their back on.

Gage helped me stand and we headed towards my house. My shredded shirt exposed my shoulder and back. My arm throbbed. The abrasions on my back burned. My right cheek started to swell. Every step sent pain throughout my head.

The pale sun, covered by thickening grey clouds, sat low in the sky.  I glanced up. Trey jogged up the path towards us strapped with a backpack and my hunting rifle. He stopped, stunned when he saw me then walked up to us. Somehow, he knew I was in trouble.

“You can’t come home.”

I must have looked bad because he was unable to hide the shock on his face. His jaw tightened and he clenched his teeth while he glanced over me. With eyes plagued by torment, he touched my cheek as he inspected it then wrapped an arm around me to give a reassuring hug as he pulled me close. I winced at the pain suddenly intensified, but I didn't care and I let him hug me.

I looked up at Trey. Silent tears filled my eyes then spilled over as his grew to an intense green, full of rage. Without a word, he glanced at Gage with a hardened stare as he received an equally hardened, determined glare back. Through the sternness in their eyes, a look passed between them, an acknowledgement, a sworn unspoken pact as if they both agreed to harness the anger they felt, and settled their fury with a postponed need for vengeance.

The wheels had turned, the momentum started. As much as I hoped for the contrary, retribution would be planned out and their wouldn't be much I could do about it. I recognized that look in both their eyes. I shuddered at the thought of what this could start.

“The Militia is looking all over for you,” Trey said, as his eyes shifted from anger to the focus of what lay ahead. “They’re at our house now. Morrison himself just got there.”

“What? Already? Where’s Emery?”

“Come on… We need to move off the trail quick.” Trey grabbed my arm and weaved up through the trees. He informed us of the details while we walked. “She’s home. Kane had me hide her in the room under the floor of the barn as I left... He said he heard Damian call for backup on the CB after the attack... He got home just before Morrison and the Militia showed up… He sent me to find you.” He puffed, not slowing to talk as he trudged through the trees. “I didn’t have time to grab the horses, Militia were everywhere and I didn’t want to risk being seen... I brought what I could grab which isn’t much... You need to stay gone until this can be sorted out.”