Chapter Three

Kendra sat in her truck for a few minutes, staring through the windshield at the smeared colors of sunrise in her shop window. Coral and lemon streaks of dawn warred with flannel gray clouds, all color slowly yielding to the blinding burn of the sun. She was trying so hard not to cry. She pinched her eyes shut and blew out a hard sigh.

“Stop,” she whispered to herself, sliding her eyes to her purse where her pistol was concealed. “Just...stop. You have to keep going. He’d want you to.”

But for nearly two weeks she’d been fighting a breakdown, skirting exhaustion and crushing grief at the sudden death of her father, and now unable to shrug off the feeling that she was being watched. She felt it, the eyes of a villain always on her. She knew that feeling, knew it too well. She’d abandoned everything in another life to run here and hide. She’d let him do that to her, that and more. She’d let Nolan break her and make her run.

But not anymore.

Things were different here. Here, she was an outcast, a shadow no one could see, an outsider no one wanted. Here, she was left alone. She could take the cold glances and the whispered rumors and the fleeting looks of pity. They all knew her story, or thought they did. She was the battered woman who had run away from her life to try and start over. She was the abused woman with nothing left but a two room cabin on the mountain. She was the half-breed indian that her white father’s people muttered about and her Cherokee mother’s people treated indifferently.

That was okay. It was all okay. It was all true, or had been once. But it wasn’t anymore. Now she was stronger. Now she was something she’d never been before. She was capable. Brave. Dangerous. She’d come home to her father, and he had spent the last few years helping to shape her into a new creature. She wasn’t hiding anymore. Not like she was when she first came to this place. She was doing more than surviving here. She was thriving. And nothing was going to stop that.

A shadow appeared at her window and she pinched her eyes shut again. A glimpse of coyote tan and black was all she needed to know.

“Morning, Jack.” she said with a forced smile.

“You alright this morning, Miss Kight?” the deputy asked.

She nodded and pushed the door open, backing him away.

“Just mentally preparing myself for the day,” she said, stepping up onto the sidewalk.

Jack nodded, following behind her.

“Lamkin boys said they saw you out in the woods last week,” he said, crowding up behind her as she keyed open the door. “Said you were armed.”

“I had a bow, Jack,” she frowned, turning to face him. “On my own property. Why don't you ask the Lamkin boys why they were on my land to begin with?”

“Aww, their just being boys,” he chuckled.

Kendra stared at him. She’d heard those words far too many times in her life.

“That’s an excuse.” she said flatly. “I’m not breaking any laws by hunting on my own land, Deputy Larrs. But those boys most certainly are by trespassing on private property. So, unless you’re here to ask me if I want to press charges, I assume you have another reason for being here.”

Jack cleared his throat and gave her a weak smile.

“Liz called me late last night,” he told her, pushing his hat back a bit. “Says she saw somebody snooping around the back of the shop.”

Kendra heaved a sigh and turned away. She flipped on the lights and set her purse down on the counter.

“The Lamkin boys.” she said. “You mean that Liz called you and told you that she saw the Lamkin boys snooping around the back of my shop.”

“She thought is was them, but she wasn’t sure.” he told her.

“Thanks for the heads up, Jack.”

She left him in the doorway and set to the task of opening her shop. He didn’t like being dismissed. Especially not by a woman. But the slow climb of one brow over her eye silently asked him if he wanted to talk about it. He didn’t. He only nodded and backed out the door. He’d be trouble for her someday. Maybe sooner than later. But that was okay. She had a plan for him. He was not the focus for the moment. Keeping her head above water was the important thing.

It was a losing battle to come to work everyday, but she wasn’t about to let the people of this town break her. Very few people came to the shop. Fewer people bought anything. The people who didn’t treat her like garbage were too afraid to patron her business. She couldn’t blame them. She knew the power of small community good ole boy clubs, and this town had a humdinger of one. Jack was their errand boy and spy.

The ringleader for the whole Good Old Boys club in town was none other than Robert Lamkin. It was no coincidence that the “boys” who kept slipping onto her property had the same last name. The rest of the town may have called them boys, but Rick and Teddy Lamkin were grown men, both in their twenties. Rick was closer to thirty, and had done a few months in jail for theft. Teddy was a mechanic who never seemed to be available, and whose lot was crowded with vehicles that would rust before they ever ran again.

They liked to poke around on her property, left to her by her father. Her father had been embroiled in a quiet war with Robert Lamkin about town politics and how things needed to change. He’d been a war hero and a decent man who was well liked, and he’d collected quite a few followers in his campaign. But then he died suddenly.

Died wasn’t the right word, really. What had happened to him was nothing short of butchery. A forest Ranger had found his body while coring tree samples. He’d found what was left of him, anyway. Everyone said it was an animal that did it. But animals didn’t gut their prey and string them up from trees to bleed out. And they certainly didn’t tear out spines and take the heads with them.

She’d had to identify his body by the tattoo on his back. It was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. Now, she was trying to make it in the town where she was the outcast, and he wasn’t there to have her back anymore. She was strong enough to make it, but it was hard to fight Robert Lamkin while she grieved.

The shop bell chimed as the door opened. She pinched her eyes shut, a tear sliding over her cheek as she sucked down a ragged breath. She wiped it away quickly, ashamed to let it be seen.

“Kendra?” the voice was soft. “Sweetie, can I do anything for you?”

“Thank you, Joyce, but I’m okay.” she whispered.

Joyce Lamkin was a saint, and a better woman than Robert deserved. Kendra couldn’t imagine what hell she must live in with that man and their sons. But she liked her, and she appreciated her more than she dared say.

“Why don’t you close up and go home?” Joyce said quietly. “Your head’s not in this. We both know it, honey.”

Kendra sniffed and looked at her, forcing a failing smile as she met the petite woman’s soft blue stare. Joyce wasn’t saying it, but they both knew what she was thinking. No one was going to come to her shop. There was no sense being stuck there while she was miserable.

“Close up, huh?” Joyce said again. “I’ll buy you some coffee.”

“Thank you, but…”

Joyce held up a hand to stop her. She smiled and stepped up to her, taking her into a hug.

“That’s an order, honey.” she said gently, hugging her close.

Kendra was trembling. It was so hard to keep it all bottled up. She wanted to burst into tears, but she couldn’t. She would not break down.

“Coffee sounds nice.” she said, voice breaking.

Joyce let her go and nodded. “I’ll wait outside. You do what you need to, and join me when you’re ready, okay?”

Kendra spent the next five minutes sobbing in the bathroom, letting it out so that she could function. No matter how she felt, the world was still spinning, and she had to keep going. He’d raised her to keep going, no matter what.

She joined Joyce after she cleaned herself up. She looked tired, but there were no signs of her emotional outburst. She crossed the street with Joyce, the pair entering the small diner and taking a seat. Kendra ignored the stares. She was used to them. Joyce stared back until people took the hint and started minding their own business.

“It’s a shame how people are here.” the older woman sighed. “Robert is the worst of them. I stayed with him for the kid’s sake, but…” she shook her head.

Her pause made Kendra look up at her.

“Oh, I like it here.” Joyce continued with a smile. “I just don’t like it here, if you know what I mean.”

“Nice place if the people all go away.” Kendra nodded.

“Exactly.” Joyce agreed.

They ordered their coffee and Joyce convinced Kendra to split a piece of chocolate pie with her. When the waitress left their table, the older woman reached across the table and took hold of her hands.

“You’re a good woman, Kendra. Your father was a wonderful man. Don’t ever let these people convince you otherwise. They are petty, backward, miserable old sots who think everyone else should be miserable, too. You hang in there. You keep fighting. Things are going to get better.”

Kendra smiled and nodded, but she didn’t believe it. Hearing the words was wonderful. Encouragement from someone, anyone, was good for her. But she didn’t believe it. Things weren’t going to get better. Not as long as Robert Lamkin ran the show.

“I’ve filed for divorce.” Joyce confessed quietly. “I’ve had all I can take of him and his ruining other people’s lives.”

Kendra stared at her.

“Joyce…” she whispered. “Won’t he come after you? Try to destroy your life?”

“That’s what he’s good at,” Joyce chuckled, taking a sip of her coffee. “But I come from old money, and I’ve got the resources to play his game. My father kept questionable contacts, and I have all their phone numbers. I won’t be fighting this alone. Neither will you. You’re good people, Kendra, and I’m on your side.”

Kendra blinked at her. She wasn’t sure what she was hearing. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

“I’ve got some...friends.” Joyce told her. “The kind you buy with six figures. They’ll be here this afternoon. Robert isn’t going to ruin anyone’s life anymore. This is a fight he cannot win. Be patient with me, but I promise, he’s going to stop being a thorn in your side. So are my sons. They are grown men, and they have pay for what they are doing to other people. I love them enough to punish them for this.”

Kendra was seeing a side of Joyce Lamkin she’d never known existed before. She knew now how the woman had survived her husband’s abuse for so long. Joyce was no fool, and she certainly wasn’t taking anything lying down.

“I don’t know what happened to your father, sweetie.” Joyce continued. “I don’t believe it was an animal. But I really don’t know what else could have happened. Robert has hurt people before, but he’s not a killer. He’s not that brave. I wish I could make that part of this whole thing better. All I can do is be your friend. I hope that’s enough.”

Kendra sputtered a sob, clamping her hand to her mouth to stifle the sound. Eyes were on them, but she couldn’t care. Joyce gave her a tender smile, her own eyes a little wet, and offered her a napkin.

“Eat your pie, honey.” she smiled. “Chocolate smoothes over most anything.”

They parted ways after a few hours of chatting. They hugged and cried together, promising to be there for eachother for the difficult days and weeks ahead. Kendra thought that Joyce must have been a stronger woman than she was, because she handled it all with grace and seemed flawless and beautiful even while she talked about liquidating all she had.

Kendra took her advice and went home to try and relax. The drive was oddly pleasant, and she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Cold rain began to fall as she hit the driveway, but she didn’t care. She’d be in front of the fireplace soon, and it could rain all it wanted to. She hurried through the door, slamming it behind her, and spun into the room toward the hearth to warm herself.

She froze, her stomach turning to ice.

The thing crouched before the fire was silent as it rose to full height and turned it's masked face to stare at her. Its skin was tawny and splashed with a strangely lovely pattern of black markings, stretched taut over lean muscle as the “it” that seemed so obviously male took a step toward her with a tilt of his head.

Kendra shrank away slowly, sliding along the cabinet-fronts toward the other side of the kitchen, but froze as the intruder suddenly strode toward her. She lurched toward the stove, and snatched the cast iron skillet from the stove-eye. She whirled on the thing as it stepped up to her, smashing the iron against the side of his head with enough force to dislodge his mask and shoot an arc of pain through her arm. She dropped the skillet and clutched at her broken hand, pressing herself back against the wall with no way to escape. His heavy mask hit the floor and spun, digging scars into the hardwood before coming to a halt against the sink base. A cabinet door rattled as the tip of a ivory tusk imbedded into the soft pine plane. Kendra choked down a shaky breath with a sinking sense of doom as the unmasked giant slowly turned his jade colored gaze on her.

“...oh, shit…” she whispered.

With a lightning fast motion, he seized her throat and hoisted her off her feet. His mandibles flared wide as he crushed her to the wall with a low growl that vibrated through his chest and into hers. Eyes wet with the threat of unavoidable death, Kendra clutched at his wrist with her left hand and jabbed her right thumb into his eye. He snapped his head away and dropped her, spinning on her again instantly. He lifted a deafening roar through the house, throwing his arms wide. Kendra sucked down a hard breath and screamed, snatching up another skillet, brandishing the iron like a weapon.