Texas and Tarantulas (19 page)

Mahon decided then not to change his name.

He told Trent as much after they left the Sheriff’s office.

“Why not?” Trent asked, confusion making him almost irresistible.

Mahon wanted to kiss him until they were both desperate for more.

He exercised more restraint than that. “It’s what’s on everything—my license, my truck and camper title, the birth certificate I have. And I’m the only Mahon Morrison now, right?”

“Did they all have the same documents? What if they’ve been arrested?” Trent fretted.

Mahon could reassure him on that. “None of us were, and yes, they had the same information. We were one powerful entity. Now it’s just me, and I’m…I’m Mahon. I like the way you say my name, the way you shout it when you come.”

Trent hissed and dropped a hand down in front of his groin. “Stop it. I don’t want to walk around town with a hard-on. People will notice.”

Mahon gave his best leer.

Trent pinched his hip. “Come on. Let’s go see what it’s going to cost to rent some heavy-duty equipment. Might stop by one of the mobile home places, too.”

“Or we could build our own place,” Mahon suggested. “It’s your land, of course—”

“Mahon, I will stomp on your toes if you go there. It’s us. It’s our home. I told you that I love you.” Trent watched him expectantly.

But not for long. “Okay. I have money saved up, not a lot, but some that I hid away.”

Trent cupped his elbow and got them moving along. “Why’d you have money hidden?”

“You know, I never thought about it. I just did it,” Mahon answered. “Kind of assumed the others did, too. Maybe they did. Who knows?”

“Well, you can contribute if you want. I have some savings, too. A house built just for us… That might be real nice. How do you feel about dogs?”

Mahon tried a wink, something he’d seen Trent do before. “As long as they aren’t wolves, I’m good with them. I like cats, too.”

“I want dogs,” Trent said firmly. “I want a bunch of them. Well, as many as we can reasonably fit on an acre. Don’t want to be one of those pet hoarders.”

Mahon could picture him and Trent sitting out in the yard, with actual grass growing, a shade tree over them, and two or three puppies tussling with each other. “What breed?”

Trent nudged his arm. “Mutts, I think. Is that politically correct? Can I say mutts? Mixed breeds, just to be safe. Not one of those designer dogs. I’d thought I should get something made for ranch work, like a heeler or Catahoula, since wild hogs can be a problem out here. Now, I want a pet. Pets. I also want to fence our yard so hogs can’t get to the dogs. They’ll sure tear a dog up if they can.”

“We should take care of having a place for them and us first, right? Or do you want to get puppies while staying with Joe and Diego?”

Trent stopped and clicked his tongue. “Oh, honey. No. If your little camper isn’t destroyed, we’re going to stay in it just as soon as possible. I love Joe and Diego, but I’m not supposed to live in that house, no matter what he says. I heard the will being read—I was there for it. I can be a guest, but living with Joe is a will-breaker. Dad really wanted to drive a wedge between us.”

“Why would he do that?” Mahon wondered. “Was he ever kind to you?”

“That’s the thing. He wasn’t always like he was the last few years before he died. Maybe he was more standoffish with me than Joe when we were kids, but looking back I figured it was because I had been more of a mama’s boy. That night she left, I remember—” He stumbled over the curb. “Shit.”

Mahon held onto Trent’s arm until they reached a park with several picnic tables. “Sit. Tell me what you remember.”

Trent ducked his head and sat. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think it’s a memory, sometimes I think it’s a dream I made up. I never told Joe because if it isn’t a dream…” Trent looked at him. “She came into my room that night. Joe had his own bedroom. Mom came in. I was supposed to be asleep so I kept my eyes shut. Maybe I
was
asleep, see?”

Mahon didn’t see anything yet, except possibly a man who desperately wanted to avoid hurting his brother.

“I started remembering this along with the other dream, once the bones were found. It probably isn’t true. In this…dream or whatever, she sat on the edge of the bed and told me she had to leave but she’d come back for me. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. I waited as long as I could stand it, then I got up and tried to follow her.” Trent covered his eyes. “I’ve tried to ask Joe without being too obvious if she went to his room that night. He used to say he wished he knew what happened because he went to sleep and had two parents. But I—I think if it’s real, she wasn’t coming back for Joe. Why wouldn’t she come back for Joe? Who wouldn’t want him for a son—or a brother?”

“Maybe she felt it was wrong to take both children from their father, and since she was closer to you…” It was the only insight Mahon had. “I never knew my parents. I’m probably not the person to ask about this kind of thing.”

“I think you are. You have a perspective I don’t.” Trent touched his hand. “If it’s not a dream, then Joe may be angry with me for not remembering it sooner or because I didn’t believe it. I guess I really need to speak with him about this. I already told him about the dreams with Dad digging a hole and all. He’ll probably think I’m losing it.”

“I doubt it. Joe will listen to you.” Mahon sat with Trent in the park until Trent was ready to leave. “Where to now?”

Trent grinned at him. “Well, I do like big equipment.”

* * * *

“Can I talk to you, just us?” Trent asked Joe that evening. He was feeling wrecked after sifting through what remained of his trailer—which was nothing. The explosion had decimated it all.

Joe glanced at Diego, who was sitting and chatting with Mahon. “Did you and Mahon coordinate this?”

“Mahon likes Diego,” Trent said, avoiding a direct answer. “He wants to see if they can figure out which pack members died here with these last attacks.”

“Good information to know.” Joe got up. “Office okay?”

“As long as you’re not talking about the downstairs bathroom,” Trent teased.

“Why not? I’ll let you sit on the toilet this time,” Joe retorted.

They went into the office and Trent closed the door. He leaned against it and folded his arms over his chest. “I told you about the dream with Dad. I didn’t tell you about the one with Mom, and…and here’s the thing. I don’t know if it’s a dream or a memory. Either one of them.”

“Dad with the shovel?” Joe frowned. “With the glowing eyes?”

“Right, that’s what keeps throwing me. I think my brain’s chunking it in with reality.” There. He’d admitted that he believed their father was a murderer.

“I never saw him hit Mom,” Joe said. “Might not mean anything. He could have snapped. I wish I could say for sure I didn’t think he could have done it. I don’t like to believe he did it, but I wouldn’t have believed he’d be such a dick about the will, either.”

Trent shrugged. “Maybe I’m not his. I wonder sometimes.”

“One of the ranch hands. No insult intended. I’m just thinking out loud.”

Trent wasn’t insulted. “Or maybe I am and he just didn’t like it because Mom favored me. I keep— Did she come in your room the night she disappeared?”

Joe became very intent, concentrating on Trent with a focus that he rarely showed. “No, she didn’t. She went into yours?”

“Or I’m dreaming it. That’s very possible, Joe. Since her bones were found, these things pop in my head.”

“What is this particular thing?” Joe asked.

“Don’t get offended, okay? It could be from us talking about her and all.” Trent waited until Joe agreed, then he told his brother about the dream or memory or the mix of both. “I can’t remember the rest of it. Did I actually see her or Dad? It goes from me getting out of bed to seeing Dad digging that damn hole.”

Joe was very pale. He looked away, out of the window. “Maybe we should go to the spot she was found.”

It felt like Trent’s blood turned to ice in his veins. His head got spinny, and he slid down to sit on the floor. “I don’t want to.”

“I think you have to, for your sake,” Joe said. He was close enough that his breath wafted over Trent’s face. “You just about fainted when I mentioned it.”

“Did not. I just wanted to sit.” Suddenly. Because his legs gave out and his head tried to do some weird-ass dip and dive.

“Trent.”

Damn it, he couldn’t not look at Joe when Joe said his name in that patient, caring voice.

Trent opened one eye. “I don’t want to.”

“Neither do I. I also don’t want to call Sheriff Kenzie and ask her to come out. It needs doing.”

Trent whined, a drawn out ‘why’ that would have gotten him a whipping from his dad.

Joe just pulled him in for a hug. “Because we need to know. We’ll call her in the morning.”

“She’s going to hate us, bugging her all the time.” Trent finally raised his head and met Joe’s gaze. “We’re like the Uvalde troubled children, always causing a fuss.”

“Keeps her job from being boring.” Joe tousled Trent’s hair.

“Hey, you just lost the cool big brother points for that,” Trent warned. He lied. He had the best brother, ever.

* * * *

Later on, he awoke to the sound of a wolf howling. “Mahon?”

“I hear it.” Mahon was already halfway out of the bed.

Trent got up, too. “It’s not Diego.”

“No.” Mahon didn’t look out of the window. He headed for the door. “He’s calling him, though.”

“Shit.” Trent only paused long enough to put on underwear then he was hurrying down the stairs.

Joe and Diego were whispering heatedly by the front door.

“I’ll go with him, if that’s what you’re arguing about,” Mahon said.

Joe turned an angry glare on him. “I’ll go with him.”

Mahon walked over to them. “Don’t make this about ego. Make it about who can keep him safest. In this instance, a bear might be the best option. You and Trent could follow with the shotguns or hand grenades, whatever you want.”

“I want some fucking hand grenades,” Joe growled. “And I want this shit to stop! All we want is to be left alone by his pack. They’ve cost Trent his home, and…and… Trent’s done things he shouldn’t have had to do because they won’t stop!”

“Then tonight we make them stop. I’ll go out the back door. Give me a five-minute lead. I’m not as fast in bear form as a wolf.” He asked Diego, “Is that okay with you, Diego? This is, after all, your pack business.”

“I don’t want anyone I care about to get hurt,” Diego said. “I’d rather take the alpha on myself.”

“None of us will get hurt.” Mahon gave Trent a swift kiss. “You don’t have to kill anyone tonight.”

Trent couldn’t think of anything witty to say to that. He watched Mahon leave then watched the clock. Another howl pierced the night.

“I don’t get it. He has to know we’ll kill him,” Joe muttered.

“All he’s asked for at this point is to meet with me,” Diego explained. “If he’s lost as many pack members as we think and all his resources have been taken from him, he may not be aware of why. Who is left to explain that many have died for his stupid pride? No one. He needs to know.”

Trent fetched the two weapons and extra ammo first then went to the washroom for their boots. He also put on his dirty jeans and shirt from earlier and put the box of ammo in his shirt again. He really needed a better plan for shit like that.

In the living room, he handed Joe his boots and gun. Trent put his boots on then went to find flashlights. He tucked two in his waistband.

“Five minutes is up in ten, nine, eight…” Trent counted down to one.

Diego shifted.

Joe told him he loved him then opened the door.

Diego darted out.

Joe and Trent couldn’t keep up with him.

“Guns ain’t gonna do us any good in the dark,” Joe said.

“Got flashlights.” Trent took one out and handed it to Joe. “We can spotlight ’em and see if they freeze up.”

“Diego said there was only one howling.”

“Only one
howling
,” Trent emphasized.

They didn’t speak after that.

After running for several minutes, a chorus of howls came from not too far off.

“Fuck!” Joe snapped. “That’s a whole damned bunch of wolves.”

It was. Trent ran faster, his shorter legs giving him speed while Joe’s longer ones gave him distance.

A roar cut through the howls.

The moon was only a sliver in the sky, and even then it was partially covered by clouds. So were many of the stars. It was fucking dark and Trent was over it. He pulled out his flashlight. “Turn ’em on!”

The flashlights helped and while they also made Joe and Trent easier targets, they hadn’t been possible to miss in the first place, running, panting, cursing.

Trent spared a moment to fire his shotgun in the air, hoping to scare some shifters into running off. “Real wolves would scatter.” Then he was moving as fast as he could again while yelps and growls grew louder.

Watching the flashlight beam bounce made him queasy. Trent tried to look right past the brightest part of it. He nearly pissed his pants when a giant wolf leaped in front of him.

“Is that Diego?” he shouted.

The damn thing jumped at him before Joe answered.

Trent didn’t get a shot in because Joe was quicker.

“Nope, not Diego,” Joe ground out.

“Good to know now.” Trent stepped over the carcass. “Maybe we should slow down and shine the lights—fuck!” Ahead of them, there were several wolves piled on Mahon. “I don’t think so, you furry fuckers!” Trent shouted, fed up beyond all ability to be calm. “I am sick”—he shot the first wolf that came at him—“and tired”—and the second—“of you assholes fucking up our lives!”

“Diego, shift before Trent mistakes you for one of them!”

“I won’t shoot any more of them unless they come at me.” Trent was worried about Mahon, but the bear was throwing wolves down left, right and center. There was more yelping coming from that pile of spit and fury than the biggest kennels in the state.

Trent kept his shotgun ready. Mahon hadn’t wanted him to kill tonight. Trent was sorry to bust his protective bubble. He’d done what needed to be done.