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“You lousy, fuckin’, narcissistic piece of shit!” he roared. “I want so badly to strip you of your fuckin’ plaid flannel pajamas and torture you within an inch of your pathetic life! It fuckin’ pisses me off that I can’t even punch your goddamn ugly face! Or cut off your micropenis and shove it down your throat.” Storm’s hands shook as rage consumed him, heaving above a cowering Miller.
Dayum, I ain’t never seen him like this before.
“No. I can’t do any of that! But I’ll tell you what I can do, you motherfuckin’ piece of shit. Watch with great pleasure as you shiver to death. Your fingers and nose turning blue. The breath stilling in your chest. I will stay here until the very end to make sure you can never hurt my woman again!”
Miller shook his head, eyes pleading as he begged for mercy.
“Track, open the door and let the dog out,” Storm ordered. The yappy rat scurried out. “Now, get to your feet, or I will dress you out like you did that deer above the mantle.” He jerked his head to the right.
I hadn’t even noticed the deer head.
Once Miller had on a pair of boots, Storm pushed him out the door. “Go find your dog!”
The bound deputy ran, slipping on an icy patch of leaves. He struggled to get back on his feet. I saw how this would work. How the dog was the perfect decoy to lure deputy fucking Miller to his death.
Strom stepped out the front door. “Grizz, keep eyes on him.”
“Yeah, boss,” Grizzly’s reply came through the earpiece.
Storm turned toward us. “Let’s erase any trace of us. Go back out the way you came. Remove footprints as you go back to the vehicles. Box, you’re with me. The rest of you can go home.” Storm scratched his chin through his knit mask. “But not you, Grizz.”
“I know, boss.”
“What about the rat dog?” Dodge sounded a bit concerned.
Storm growled a little. He wasn’t an animal person.
“We can leave it at that gas station we passed a half a mile back,” Boxer said.
“Fine,” Storm grunted.
I guessed that was it.
Track, Dodge, and I did as Storm commanded, erasing our footsteps as we returned to the van. We removed our gear and headed home.
“Gotta say this was one lackluster manhunt,” I told my brothers.
“Yeah, I sorta feel sorry for Storm.” Track grabbed a bottle of water and tossed it back to Dodge. “You should drink at least five of these a day.”
“Water has no flavor. It’s boring,” Dodge complained.
“Your kidneys will thank you after the way you’ve been living.” Track and I laughed, shaking our heads.
28
Tara
IT WAS THE Monday before Thanksgiving. In two days, school would be out for a long weekend. In Minnesota, we only got a four-day weekend for Thanksgiving and Easter to account for snow days. I envied other states that had the whole week off but had no inclination to ever move out of Minnesota.
The last couple of weeks were the best of my life. When Hero came back from the run, he’d wrapped himself around me in his bed at the clubhouse and whispered, “All is right in the world,mi vida.”
I hadn’t understood what he meant as I smiled with my eyes closed.
A few days later, we were at the club for supper because my man loved Tater-tot-hotdish Thursdays. But I felt it was more about feeding me a high calorie meal, although Hero never said as much. He knew I was self conscious about the weight I’d lost. We’d talked about when I was stressed or sad, I lost weight. Never intentionally, I just forgot to eat.
Storm had received a call in the middle of Boxer talking about the Black Friday event coming up. Our table went silent. Maddy’s mouth dropped open, like she could hear what the caller told Storm.
When Storm had ended the call, he tugged Maddy into his arms. “Deputy Miller’s body was found this morning in the woods near his cabin in Duluth. They say he’d died of hypothermia while searching for his Chihuahua.”
