Nauti Dreams (39 page)

just basically want to see you locked up until hell freezes over, knowing I put you there.”

Yeah, this was better than a bullet. He watched Dayle pale, watched his shoulder twitch

as he prepared to go for his weapon.

Natches went for his first. He pulled the Glock from the back holster beneath his jacket,

holding it comfortably on his father.

“Did you really think you were going to convince me to help you do anything?” Natches

asked him. “I ask again, are you on hard drugs?”

Dayle’s lips thinned as he watched Natches lean against the wall, the gun held easily,

pointing directly at him.

“You can’t prove any of this.”

“ ’Course I can. I’m wired.” He shrugged.

Dayle grinned at that. “Not here you aren’t, Natches. Any wire you wore was jammed the

minute you walked in.”

“Cell phones aren’t jammed, are they?”

Dayle glanced at his cell. “Yours isn’t open though.”

“Doesn’t have to be.” He shrugged. “I got ya. DHS has ya. Busted, old man.”

“I don’t think so.”

Natches swung around, the gun barreling on Nadine’s voice as he felt his stomach drop.

Janey. For a moment, fear had nearly paralyzed him, the thought of Chaya uppermost in

his mind. But now, the fear nearly burned through his mind. Chaya could have worked

with him; she would have known what to do. But it wasn’t Chaya Nadine held by long,

thick black hair. It wasn’t Chaya who stared at him from dazed, confused eyes.

“Insurance.” Dayle sighed. “Put the gun down, and hand me the cell phone, please.”

Natches watched as Nadine leveled her own gun at Janey’s head.

“I’d love to kill her,” she told him vindictively. “Pop her little head right off, just like you did Johnny’s.”

Natches lowered the gun, shifted away from the wall and forced Nadine in a better

alignment with the window as he came closer to her.

Be in position, Alex, he prayed. God help them all, he better be in position.

He pulled the cell phone from his belt and tossed it to Dayle. He almost winced as Dayle

cracked it against the table, busting the frame before he dropped it into the vase of water

that held fresh flowers. So much for Cranston’s new toy.

“The gun, Natches.” Dayle waggled his fingers demandingly. “Let’s not . . .”

Pop.

Nadine went down, dragging Janey with her as Dayle jumped him. The fist that plowed

into Natches’s jaw felt like a jackhammer. He went backward, the gun flying, clattering

to the floor before he righted himself and faced an enraged Dayle.

“Just like Johnny,” Natches snarled. “What now, bastard?”

“Now I beat you to fucking death like I should have when you were a snot-nosed kid,”

Dayle snarled.

Natches laughed as he shed his coat, feeling the blood pump through his body, adrenaline

racing through his veins.

“I’m not a kid now, old man,” he sneered. “Come and get me. We’ll see who ends up

with the busted ribs this time.”

The second Chaya realized Nadine Grace had a hostage, and who it was, panic nearly

flared in her throat.

“We have a hostage situation.” She spoke quietly into the mic at her cheek that connected

her to the team surrounding the house.

Alex was the closest in position, stretched out on the roof across the street, hidden from

view by the branches of an aged oak growing beside it.

“Alex, confirm visual.”

“Confirmed. Target acquired.”

She heard the pop of the sniper rifle, her eyes widening as Cranston began to curse and

order all agents to converge on the house.

“All agents, be advised, don’t interfere. Cover only. This is Natches’s fight.”

“Are you insane?” Cranston turned back to her, his eyes bugging out of his head.

“Natches will kill him.” He pulled his own mic closer to his mouth. “All agents,

detain—”

“No.” Before Cranston could stop her she pulled the plug on his communications unit and

stared back at him furiously. “Stop fighting me so I can get to Natches. We cover him,

that’s it. This is his fight, Cranston. No matter what.”

“And if his father manages to get a killing blow in? What then, Agent Dane?”

She breathed in roughly. “Then I’ll deal with it, Timothy. It’s his fight. It’s his pride. I

won’t take it from him.”

He cursed again, turned from her, and a second later they were running from the van to

the sidewalk, racing to the two-story brick house that sat peacefully amid the residential

street.

Neighbors were stepping from their houses as the sheriff’s car sped down the street,

sirens wailing. And she wondered how Timothy had managed to keep Zeke from coming

in sooner.

They rushed the house. Dawg and Rowdy with their black law enforcement vests made it

there first. The door splintered as they went through it, and stood blocking the living

room, staring back at Natches and Dayle Mackay in shock.

They were brutal. Fists were slamming into faces. Natches’s jaw and lip were bleeding;

Dayle probably had teeth missing though. He was bleeding profusely from the mouth,

stumbling back as Natches buried his fist in his ribs. And from the grunt of pain, it wasn’t

the first time.

Dayle went to one knee, staggered, and then pulled himself back up. Lowering his head

he charged Natches. A second later, he came up on his tiptoes, a wet groan leaving his

throat as Natches buried his fist in his stomach and threw him back.

“Have you had enough?” Natches’s drawl was lazy, that dangerous sound Chaya swore

she was going to make sure he never uttered again.

“Son of a bitch,” Dayle wheezed and charged again.

The blow to his ribs took him to his knees.

“We can keep this up all day,” Natches informed him, stepping back as Dayle rolled to

his side. “Come on, old man; pull your ass back up. I don’t think you’re bleeding

enough.”

Nadine was sprawled where Alex’s bullet had left her, and as Chaya watched, Alex

stepped into the hall from the back and lifted Natches’s sister into his arms. Her eyes met

his, and she almost backed up at the emotion in Alex’s face.

“She’s been drugged, Alex,” Natches told him, still watching Dayle as he held his ribs

and groaned weakly. “Get her to the hospital, now.”

Alex moved as Timothy barked orders into his radio, calling for a unit to meet Alex on

the street for the drive into the hospital.

Zeke stepped into the house, and he, too, watched as Natches moved farther back from

Dayle Mackay.

“I think his rib is broken, maybe several of them,” Natches informed them cheerfully as

he gripped Chaya’s arm and began to move her back. “Take care of this, boys. We’ll see

you in a few days.”

“She can’t leave.” Timothy was nearly hyperventilating now. “You need to be debriefed.

We have fucking red tape to get through and questions that need answering. Get your ass

back here, Natches. Agent Dane.”

Natches turned back to him, stared at him, and Timothy went quiet.

“You remember that talk we had last year, Timothy?” Natches asked him.

Timothy glared back at him.

“I see you do. Cut the red tape. You have the damned recording if your phone worked.

Debrief him.” He shoved his finger in Dayle’s direction. “Arrest him, get him the hell out

of Somerset and keep him locked up. Because if I have to deal with you one more time,

in my town, I might break a promise I made to myself and Chay about no more killing.

You don’t want that.”

“And Timothy.” Chaya stood her ground when Natches would have dragged her out of

the house. “Don’t forget your promise to me. I did my part. I expect yours as a Christmas

present. As we agreed.”

He rubbed his balding head, squinted at her, then sighed. “By Christmas.”

She nodded, then turned and let Natches lead her from the house. The street was filled

with vehicles. He wrapped his jacket around her, lifted her to the back of the Harley, and

seconds later they were maneuvering through the crowd converging on the Grace home.

It was over. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against his back as they

hit the interstate and headed back to the Nauti Dreams.

“You promised me at least a week in that bed of yours,” she reminded him. “How are you

going to keep your cousins away from us?”

“I have my ways.” He turned, flashed her a wicked smile and a wink. “Don’t worry,

baby. I have my ways.”

No Knocking

No Visitors

GO AWAY

The sign blocked the entrance to the Nauti Dreams for two weeks. It had gone up a week

after Dayle Mackay’s arrest, and Chaya and Natches stayed secluded.

Rowdy and Dawg shook their heads as they passed by and heard the male laugher, the

feminine giggling, from inside. They swore Natches and Chaya were going to starve

before they came out, but they both had to admit, the sound of Natches’s laughter from

inside that houseboat lightened their hearts.

Finally, the sign came down though. As October turned into November, and the chill

wind turned icy on the lake, Natches stepped from the Dreams.

Dressed in jeans, zipped only, no shirt, and socked feet, he inhaled the scent of winter

coming and wrapped his arms around the real dream in his life as she stood in front of

him, bundled in a quilt, drowsy and sated from the early morning loving they had shared.

Excited by the knowledge they carried.

Natches had slipped from the boat the night before and made a trip to the pharmacy. This

morning Chaya had taken the pregnancy test he had brought home, and it was positive.

She was having his child.

“You’re going to teach him to play baseball then?” she asked, a smile teasing her lips as

he kissed the curve of her neck.

“Of course,” he drawled. A silky, rich, lazy sound that she already loved. “And if we

have a daughter, I swear, Chay, I’m locking her up till she’s fifty.”

“If you lock her up, she won’t be able to find a Harley-riding hellion to steal her heart,”

she teased, laughing.

“My point exactly, sweetheart. My point exactly.”

Before Chaya could reply, Dawg stepped out of the Nauti Nights, pushed his fingers

through his mussed hair, and threw them both an irritated look.

“Take your mushy crap back behind closed doors,” he grumbled, the scowl on his face

boding ill for daring to get in his way.

Chaya watched him in surprise as Natches arched a brow.

“Problems, Dawg?” he asked.

Dawg grunted. “I’m calling her brother; maybe he can force that hardheaded little minx

to listen to reason. She sure as hell isn’t listening to me.”

“About what?” Chaya asked him.

“She needs to go to the damned doctor,” he snarled. “Three weeks now and she’s sick

more often than not. She’s tired all the damned time, and she refuses to go to the doctor.

Just looks at me like she wants to rip my head off or something.”

Worry strained the thin, tight-lipped expression on his face.

Chaya grinned and he glared at her. “She’s sick.”

“It’s normal.” She rolled her eyes at his look.

The thought of it still cracked her up. Crista Mackay had been complaining of her ailment

the night she, Kelly, and Maria Mackay had been at the boat.

“The hell it is. She never gets sick.”

“She does if she’s pregnant.”

Natches tensed, but Dawg froze. He stared back at her, his lips parting, then closing a

second before she swore he almost stumbled as he stood still staring at her.

“She’s what?”

Chaya frowned. “I thought she knew. With the morning sickness—she said it wasn’t fair

you weren’t sick, too.” She had known, hadn’t she? Chaya asked herself. “Doesn’t she

know?”

Dawg lifted a hand toward the door, and she swore it was shaking. Then he turned back

to her and swallowed tightly.

“Damn.” His voice was almost weak. “Are you sure?”

Chaya stared back at him in surprise. “Sure she’s pregnant?” She laughed. “No, but

Natches bought no less than three of those tests he slipped out last night to get. We won’t

need the last two. You’re welcome to them.”

Dawg’s gaze sharpened. “You’re . . . ?” He couldn’t seem to say the words.

“Pregnant?” Natches drawled in amusement. “So the test says.”

Dawg looked back inside the houseboat, looked to Chaya, then at Natches, and she swore

he paled.

“What if she has a girl?” he almost wheezed. “Oh hell. A Mackay daughter? Natches,

what will we do?”

“Lock her up till she’s fifty.” Natches laughed as Chaya butted her elbow into his tight

stomach. “We’ll lock them up till they’re fifty, Dawg, because I don’t think I would

survive it.”

“A baby?” Dawg shook his head, blinked, then without another word, turned and went

back into the houseboat.

“A dollar says she’s dressed and headed to the doctor in the next hour.” Natches

chuckled.

“Two says he borrows the test,” she countered.

An hour later, Dawg barged in, ignoring the fact that the door was closed and drapes were

drawn. He even ignored Natches’s curse as he tried to fix the quilt around Chaya’s naked

body.

“I need that damned test.”

He was definitely pale. And his hands really were shaking.

“Get up, Natches. This ain’t no time for that crap.” He all but lifted Natches from the

couch as Chaya dissolved into laughter. “Get the damned test already.”

“You owe me, Natches,” she called out as he laughed and headed upstairs for the