The Principle: Legacy 2: Legacy, #2

By Rain Carrington

My name is Matthew Whitehouse, though everybody calls me Matt. This second story is mine, but like my cousin Mac, it's not mine alone.

I come from a big family, bigger than most. I used to think that was great. I loved having over thirty brothers and sisters. There was always someone to play with, and I never got lonely as a kid. I loved having more than one mom because if one wouldn't sneak me a freshly baked sugar cookie, another one would. I even loved my daddy, until I found out what kind of man he really was.

My family isn't what most see as normal. See, my daddy and his before him, claimed to be prophets. They claimed to speak to Our Heavenly Father, and He told them to do things, things like marrying a lot of wives and having a lot of kids. That, well, I could have believed it once, maybe, but the other things God supposedly told them, I don't believe, and never will.

It took me getting out to see into what I'd been born into and lived with for the first big part of my life. Outside looking in, that is where you need to be to see the truth. Truth hurts, it's hard to take, but it's only when we face it that we can start to heal.

I'm not saying to hate the family you were born into, but I am saying to keep one eye open while you enjoy them. Don't believe everything they say, no matter if God is telling them to say it or not. I had to come to terms with the bad my family was doing, and I had to stop it. It almost got me killed.

As Mac said, we in these books have a lot in common. We had to overcome what they did, try to fix it, or live with it the best we could. Read this story, and believe it or not, it's my life. I found the good on the other side of it, but it was one heck of a struggle to get there.

****
Matt Whitehouse needed help, but he had no idea whom he could ask. Everyone on the polygamist compound where he was raised was under the control of the prophet, who happened to be Matt's own father.

It was his father that saved him, though Matt was sure that wasn't his intention. A warning to a cousin who was far removed from his polygamist family sent people that would become the most important in Matt's life.

Steve Ricci lived in a home in the middle of nowhere, still licking the wounds of a near-fatal gunshot in the line of duty when he was a US Marshal.

When Mac Blaylock got a call, warning him to ignore any plea for help from his distant cousin, Matt, the first thing Mac did was to send help. His partner, Leo, sent an old friend and former FBI agent, Stacy Woo, to find Matt, which she did, beaten nearly to death.

A mutual friend sent Stacy and Matt to Steve to hide out in his home from those trying to kill Matt, including members of Matt's own family. The only safe place for a thousand miles was Steve's home, and when he agreed to let the two stay with him, the hard-edged woman and beaten man, he knew his life would change forever.

Matt's heartbreak was worse than his wounds. Unable to give in to his sorrow, his goal was to free those who had no way to free themselves. Not that he ever wanted to ask for help, he needed Stacy and Steve, and the two used every resource they had to jump into the fray with him.
In Steve, Matt found not only a savior but a man who needed him too.

Trigger warning! Mentions of human trafficking and child abuse. Violence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rain Carrington
• Release date: Jun 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393473961

Rain Carrington

I love writing, it's been my dream for many years, and in October of 2013, when my first book went live on Amazon, that dream came true. Writing love stories that are centered on flawed but lovable characters is my passion. Finding love between people isn't easy, nor should it be. Even in a book, there have to be obstacles for the story to feel real. I am a mother of three amazing people, and three adorable fur babies. I live in Colorado but love many other places besides my home. One state in particular is New Mexico, the state where I was born has always held a place in my heart. People and places make my stories what they are. Each character I've written is a part of me in some way. Each place I write is as well. Adventures come in many ways, and each of my stories has taken me on an adventure that I treasure. Come with me on my adventures and fall in love with my characters, as I have. I promise, you will love the ride. www.raincarrington.com https://twitter.com/RainCarrington https://www.facebook.com/rain.carrington https://www.facebook.com/Rain-Carringtons-Bear-Lake-Chronicles-104627634658342 https://www.instagram.com/raincarrington/ https://www.bookbub.com/authors/rain-carrington https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/rain-carrington/ https://mewe.com/i/raincarrington https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7082503.Rain_Carrington https://www.raincarrington.com/newsletter

Book preview

Chapter One

Hearing Leo Glover’s voice brought back memories of childhood that were carefree and absent the jaded views she currently had on the world. When he’d asked her to take on the case, she hadn’t hesitated, knowing she’d do just about anything for her friend.

Not that she didn’t want it on its own merits. Stacy Woo sat at the bedside of the boy she’d been sent to find, the smell of the hospital reminding her of the months she’d spent in one similar, while watching her mother waste away.

Boy was a stretch, however, though he seemed like one as he slept. Matthew Whitehouse was twenty-three. Wisps of light brown hair lay over his short forehead, and his skin was fresh and clear of lines or acne, leaving him in that gentle time of life.

He had high cheekbones, a squared but not overly wide jaw. Handsome, surely. Muscled, maybe a little too thin, but his wounds were what drew her. What had he done, could have ever done, to warrant a beating like he’d gotten?

Twenty-three was past the age of consent, past the age he could vote or smoke, and even past the age where he could take a drink. Though, being Mormon, she wondered if he’d taken that right when he’d been able.

He was beaten nearly to death, his right eye badly swollen, lip split up to his nostril. The doctors said he had two fractured ribs, a bruised lung, head trauma, several deep cuts, and heavy abrasions. He was lucky to be alive.

The nurse said he’d been unconscious since someone brought him in after finding him in an alley.

He screamed hustler, but the more Stacy looked at him, the more she thought that wasn’t true. At least, that wasn’t his full story. Leo hadn’t given her many details, simply he’d come from fundamentalist Mormons.

The lost boys, as they were called, were boys that were banished from fundamentalist compounds by their fathers or elder men of the sects. They worried the young girls they coveted for themselves would be taken by the younger men, so they drove them to the city and dropped them there to fend for themselves.

Twenty-three was old for that, but she didn’t know if he’d been on the streets for years or recently been taken from his home. Either way, he’d been through the mill, as her father always said. Matthew Whitehouse needed a break.

When he started to come around at four in the morning, Stacy sat up from the chair where she’d spent the previous seven hours and waited for him to notice her. After he opened the eye that wasn’t too swollen, he peered at the room, found her, jumping a little and croaking, Who are you?

My name is Stacy Woo. I’m a detective.

A cop?

Stacy shook her head, the question not unwarranted, but sticky, nonetheless. No, Matthew, I’m a private detective. I was hired to find you.

Perhaps she should have phrased it differently, but there was no chance to change it. He threw off his covers and jumped out of bed, ripping the IV from his arm, all the while glancing back at her like she was coming to finish the job someone else had started.

Nurses came in and tried to calm him, but it was Stacy who had to do that. Thinking quickly, the little she knew about the situation, she yelled, I was sent by your cousin, not your dad!

He stopped, the eye that wasn’t already swollen shut narrowing at her like he didn’t believe her. What?

One of the nurses was trying to get her to leave the room, but all her attention and focus was on Matthew. Your cousin, McCully Blaylock. We have a mutual friend named Leo Glover. Leo called me.

Stopping his struggle, he pled in a tiny voice, Daddy didn’t hire you?

No, honey, he didn’t. I don’t even know your father. I don’t really know your cousin actually, but I did speak to him and Leo on the phone. They explained what they could, and he texted a picture of you to me. Of course, the picture was at least five years old.

The nurses chattered at her for a full minute to not upset him again or she’d be escorted from the hospital. After a solemn promise to keep him calm, she was allowed to stay, with Matthew’s permission.

He was tucked back into bed and a new IV placed in the other arm. Given a mild sedative, he fell back to sleep, leaving Stacy there to watch him all over again.

The second time he woke, she was the one asleep. He cleared his throat to wake her, and she sat up, leaning closer to the bed. How you feeling?

Like heck. Who are you again? Your name, I mean. I think I remember the rest of what you said.

Clearing her throat, she shook the sleep off quickly to explain. Stacy Woo. I was sent by a friend who is your cousin’s partner. They told me to find you, and I did, pretty quickly. A quick call to the hospitals did the trick.

He sat up, wincing, asking, How quick?

She was worried about the same thing she suspected he was concerned about. Quick enough that I didn’t leave this room, in case someone came to finish the job. As soon as you are able, we’re getting out of here, and I’ll get you to a place where you can recover and tell me what the hell happened to you to get you here.

His sky-blue eyes landed on his IV and he grumbled, They’ll get me no matter where I go.

I don’t know who you’re talking about, but you don’t know me. I may be little, but as the saying goes, I’m fierce.

She received a ghost of a smile for that. No offense, but you’re a woman.

No offense, but I’m not the one with the bruises and swollen eye.

A full smile was given for that, and she saw how absolutely handsome he was under the discoloration and swelling.

He sighed, My cousin, huh? Haven’t seen him in forever.

He seems to really care. I mean, when I told him about this, he was very worried. He and Leo are coming as soon as they can.

He’s not tellin’ my dad, is he?

Stacy had no idea what the family dynamic was. Not if you ask him not to, I’m sure he won’t.

Staring at his IV again, Matthew seemed exhausted, but his mind was working on something. We need to get out of here. How bad am I? Will I last a few days?

It was a strange question, one she didn’t want to explore. Getting up from the chair, she said, I’ll look at your chart, but if you’re injured too badly, we’re staying.

If I stay, I’ll be injured a lot worse than this.

She opened the door, looking up and down the hall. The lights were dim, and the place deserted except for a nurse walking away, then rounding a corner and disappearing. She slipped the chart from the holder outside the door and closed it.

Once she was back at Matthew’s bed, she opened the chart, trying to decipher the medical jargon, and ran her eyes over the boxes that were checked.

You were busted up pretty good, Matthew.

Matt, please, and how good?

From what she could understand, Matthew...Matt, had all the injuries the doctor had told Mac he’d had. Bruised lung and cracked ribs were the worst of them, plus the head trauma. If they were to leave, they couldn’t get far from the hospital, at least a hospital.

She told Matt, Listen, I don’t know who is after you or why, and we don’t have time to get into that right now. You’re going to do what I say, when I say it, though, or you’re on your own. In your condition, that would be a bad place to be, Matt.

Got it. And...and thank you.

His voice was timid, so tiny that he could be a child. Stacy wanted a child, maybe more than anything in the world, so when she was confronted with one, the maternal instincts that hadn’t been directed for her own kid kicked in and went to immediate overdrive.

After helping him get the IV out of his arm and finding his clothes in the tiny closet, Stacy left the room to scope out their route for the escape. Sure, he could check himself out against medical advice, but it would be better if his leaving wasn’t known right away.

There were two nurses in the office area, but they were intensely typing away on their computers. Another two were doing rounds and were far enough for Matt to get out before they discovered he was gone.

The elevators and stairs were between his room and the nurses’ station, and as much as she’d like to take the stairs, no way could he make it down four flights with damaged ribs. They’d have to take the elevator, which would open in the middle of the lobby.

The door opened behind her, showing a dressed Matt holding his side and shrugging one shoulder. Anything?

We can get out of here okay, but when we get to the lobby, we’re going to be out in the open. How nervous does that make you?

He didn’t have to answer with words. The way the eye that wasn’t swollen widened with pure terror was enough.

Right, she whispered. Stay here. The nurse is coming for rounds, so I have to be quick, and you’re not real speedy at the moment. Let me go find some scrubs for you.

She snuck out of the room, quietly rushing down the hall, keeping one eye out for a nurse’s lounge or changing room while keeping the other out for the actual nurses. She lucked out and found a laundry cart in the middle of a hall that went off to the right, and it was parked outside a linen closet, filled with sheets, pillow cases, pillows, blankets and scrubs.

After grabbing a set, she hurried back to the room, and threw them to Matt. Get them on fast.

After he was dressed in the scrubs, Stacy saw her dilemma. The clothes did nothing to cover his multicolored face. Those bruises, shit, man. We need a mask.

I’ve seen this movie, he said, snidely. Do you really think it’s going to look real for a guy leaving in scrubs and a mask over his face? I’ll hide my face somehow, but the scrubs are enough.

Laughing a little, she admitted, You’re right.

Let’s go.

They left together, and as much as she wanted to hurry, she couldn’t. Not with him limping along pathetically. She felt horrible for him, but she did worry that someone wanted to finish the job.

They made it to the elevator and got the lobby button pushed. He leaned back on the wall, pale and shaking. This hurts.

I bet it does. I am going to need to know who is after you and why once we get to where we’re going for the night. If I’m putting my ass on the line, it’s only fair.

Looking her dead in the eye, he said, One, I didn’t ask you to, and two, you cuss a lot for a lady. Stop, please.

After crossing her arms over her tiny chest, she smirked and countered, One, you didn’t ask, I’m being paid to do it, and two, I’m not a damn lady, and I’ll cuss all I like.

Smiling hurt him too, so the second grin she’d managed to extract from him didn’t last, but she was grateful for it. Okay, fine. Cuss all you like.

Thanks. For you, though, I’ll try to turn it down a few.

Thanks.

When the doors opened to the lobby, the chairs mostly occupied with tired looking people waiting to see a doctor for whatever injury or ailment they’d gotten in the middle of the night. People were coming in and out of the front, so Stacy steered them to the side exit, where the security guard nodded to them as they passed.

Stacy got to her rental car and helped Matt into the passenger side, checking around the parking lot nervously.

When they pulled out, she saw two pickup trucks parking in front of the emergency room doors, and heard Matt sucking in a quick breath.

The trucks had five men each, some outside in the bed of the trucks, others crowded into the cabs. She glanced at Matt to see him sliding down in his seat, and she knew that they’d just gotten out in time.

Stay down, we’re almost past them. They aren’t even looking over here.

Cousins.

All of ‘em? Shit. Hold on, we’re going over speed bumps.

Every jar would hurt him, but she wasn’t about to slow down much, feeling the need to get out of there as much as Matt did.

As soon as they were far enough away, Stacy started going over their options. We’ll go to my motel, get my things, and find another place. As soon as Leo gets here, we’ll figure out when we can get you out of here.

Wait, wait, out of here? Who said I was leaving?

Killing the urge to slam on the brakes, she gaped over at him. You want to stay around here? They’re obviously hunting for you!

I can’t leave! There are other people involved! I can’t just run out on them!

Exasperated wasn’t strong enough for how she felt, but she kept it to a minimum, knowing she hadn’t heard the whole story. Let’s get to someplace safe for now. We’ll talk, figure things out from there.

Great plan. Are you always so full of ideas?

Glancing over, angry, she saw the pained smile and sighed, You are not very nice, you know that?

Yeah, but I was the favorite of all my mothers, so I know I can get away with a lot with women.

Oh? I suppose all the girls are after you too, huh?

I don’t really know. I’m not into girls. Another reason I can never go back home.

Chapter Two

It took a few minutes to get her things gathered, but she wasn’t concerned about the two trucks filled with cultists. Not until she saw them pulling up outside. Matt, how the hell did they find us?

Matt rushed to the window, looking down from their third-floor window. They have money. A lot of it.

That didn’t compute in her usually intelligent head. Money? Those beat up trucks are twenty years old and the men are wearing overalls! How much could they have?

Without looking at her, he whispered, Enough to pay for the information they needed to find us.

Shit! She grabbed her bags and headed for the door, thinking on the three ways in and out of the place, the stairs, the elevator, all the routes they could take to flee. Out the door, to the right. There’s a janitor’s closet at the end of this hall.

They rushed out the door, making sure it was locked behind them to slow the men down, and once they got to the closet, they ducked inside as they heard the elevator ding. Stacy peeked outside and saw the men hurrying to her room, cursing under her breath, Fucking clerk sold me out!

She closed the door, locking it behind her, then took out her phone to text Leo.

Hope you guys are close. We may need some backup.

Can I ask you...why aren’t you calling the cops? Not that I want you to.

I figure if you’d wanted the cops there, you would have told them who beat you half to death. You said you got mugged.

Can’t trust ‘em.

Stacy bit her tongue hard over that. She thought the same thing, especially when it came to small town, local cops who were inevitably related to everyone.

Leo texted back. We’re heading to the motel now, just got into town. What’s up?

Good boy, Leo, perfect timing, as usual. Get in the building, pull the fire alarm.

Reading over her shoulder, Matt started laughing. That’s like a bad movie.

Where do you think I got it? It always works in those bad movies.

They waited twenty minutes, and as soon as they heard the alarm, Stacy laughed.

I hope this works, Matt said, though his voice was cheerier than she’d heard it before.

From inside her bag, she grabbed a black ski cap, shoving it over her bobbed hair, tucking in the strays so none of it showed as she dialed Leo. As soon as he answered, she told him, Meet us on the third floor, Janitor’s closet. Do you have a coat and a hat maybe for Matt?

My man has a hat and we both have coats. Why?

Never mind. Just get here, and if you see a bunch of redneck looking assholes wearing overalls, avoid them.

Leo huffed out, Right. See you soon.

Stacy pulled Matt over, pushing his hair gently from his face. This is scary, but I swear it’ll be okay.

Matt’s eyes locked with hers and she saw steel and reservation. This is nothing.

Leo and Mac showed up right after, and Matt nodded once to his blond cowboy cousin. Mac, good to see you again.

Matt, damn, boy, you sure are roughed up. Come on, now, let’s git goin’.

Leo took Mac’s hat and set it on Matt’s head, then he draped Mac’s long coat around his shoulders. Stacy grabbed Mac’s hand, holding it like they were dating as she introduced herself. I’m Stacy, your date for the evening. Or until we get the hell out of here.

Nice ta meet ya, miss.

They left together, Leo and Matt holding onto one another, like Leo was holding a drunk friend, then Stacy cuddling up to a stranger, walking out to the parking lot and getting into a crew cab pickup.

Leo and Matt got in the back, Leo keeping Matt’s face hidden well.

Where we goin’? We can’t drive around all night. That wouldn’t do Matt any good.

As she answered Mac, she took out her phone once again, sighing as she pulled up the number in her contacts that she hadn’t called for two years. We’re not going to drive all night, I swear. For now, though, get us out of here.

Mac pulled out and Leo watched the firetrucks pulling up. Well, I don’t see anyone following us.

See, Matt, I told you it would work.

He chuckled weakly in the back and commended, Glad you watch a lot of movies.

The number stared up at her, bright in the truck. There was no picture with the contact, she’d taken that out long ago. It was too hard to see the few times he’d called before she finally convinced him to stop contacting her.

Pressing the green icon, hearing the call connecting, she sucked in a long breath and placed the phone to her ear.

When he answered, his voice was graveled, like that waking croak he had. "’ello? Stacy?"

Yeah, it’s me, Charlie. I’m in New Mexico and...I need a little help.

New Mexico? What the hell are you doing there?

Keeping it short, she simply answered, Client.

Jesus Christ, Stacy, I don’t hear from you all this time and you call at four in the morning asking for help from New Mexico? Give me one reason I shouldn’t hang up right now.

She swallowed as her eyes closed, knowing she deserved the rebuke, but she came up with the only thing she knew would work. Someone, not me, needs help. We need a safehouse.

Her words were met with a long silence, one that was powerful to her. Not hearing the click of the call disconnecting was big enough, but when she heard, Where are you and when do you need it?

Relieved, she gave him all the information she could. We’re up north. We can get anywhere north of Taos or Santa Fe in good time, she said, then added as she looked out over the dark clouds overhead, Weather permitting.

Shit. If you were in Albuquerque, it would be easier. Let me get back to you in twenty.

Okay, yeah. Thanks, Charlie, really. I know...I know I’m asking a lot.

Yeah, you are, he said, then ended the call.

She let the phone drop in her lap and realized she hadn’t heard a thing from her traveling companions. When she looked at Mac, then back to the others, she saw that they were trying to pretend they hadn’t been listening.

He’s an old friend that started out his career in the Marshal service here in New Mexico. He knows the place well.

We didn’t ask, Stacy, Leo pointed out, but didn’t stop there. That’s the ex, isn’t it?

Leo knew her too well, and she’d do well not to forget that. Yes, and that’s really all I want to say about it.

Mac chuckled dryly and asked her, You’ve met Leo, right? He don’t let much drop jus’ ‘cause you ask him ta.

For not knowing Leo’s new man, she felt complete kinship with him right then. Wow, yeah, that’s the truth.

Okay, you two, no bonding over my idiosyncrasies.

Stacy laughed, and it felt good after the tension from the call, glancing back at Leo, who gave her a wink.

I knew I called the right woman for the job.

They drove through the streets in the early hours of the morning, the sun rising over the mountains to the west as they waited for Charlie DeSoto to call back.

When he did, they were in a drive-thru to get breakfast. Stacy answered, shaking some. Yeah, I’m here, Charlie.

I may have someone, but I need to know a little about your client. Nothing big, I don’t need a name, per se, but some background. This guy I may send you to, he needs to keep a low profile.

Stacy turned as much as she could and asked Matt, Can I tell him about you? Some, anyway?

You don’t know much, so yeah, if you think you can trust him.

I can, I swear, Matt. I wouldn’t have called if I didn’t.

Matt lowered his head and grunted, Go ahead.

Charlie, this guy was almost killed. He doesn’t trust local cops, which you know is wise. He’s running from a sect of the fundamentalist Mormons. I can’t tell you much more than that, except his life is in danger.

Shit, Stacy, some religious freak? I can’t send him to this guy if he’s going to be preachy or a bigot. My friend, he’s gay.

Hoping she wasn’t misunderstood, but unable to stop her guffaw, she hurried to say, That’s not a problem, Charlie. I swear, it’s not a problem.

Are you sure? If I send you there and my friend feels even a little uncomfortable, I’m going to be pissed.

Her voice was soft, and there were blank spots in her memory, because she couldn’t quite remember why she’d broken up with the man. Charlie, my word, it’s not a problem.

Fine, he sighed. Have you ever heard of Eagle’s Nest?

I’ve heard of nests that eagles live in. Does that count?

The drive wasn’t as long as they’d feared. Not one of them besides Matt had slept much in the previous forty-eight hours. Stacy wasn’t feeling it yet, but she knew she would.

Matt was awake, watching out of the window as they passed the trees that lined the highway. It was beautiful, Stacy agreed, and unexpected. When she thought of New Mexico, rarely did she think of mountains and trees.

The address wasn’t as easy to find as turning on Google maps. The roads close to the man’s home where they were heading were marked with numbers instead of names. Turnoffs came up fast, and the narrowness of the roads themselves made it hard to navigate around some of the snowdrifts.

Leo leaned over the seat that separated them and pointed, There’s a house over there. Is that it?

It’s gotta be, she answered, hoping she was right. There was a common thread in rural places like the one they were traveling around, and that was everyone had a gun. Bears and strangers were the biggest threats, and not in that order.

They pulled into the long drive, overhanging trees and huge boulders lining their way. The area was beautiful, snow covered, hilly, the house itself like a cabin, only nicer. Long, it had a covered porch in front with several Adirondack chairs wrapping around to connect a separate room off on the side of the house.

Surrounding the place was a meadow leading to trees closer in, and it was breathtaking.

Purty place, Mac commented as he pulled up to the house, parking behind a black Ford Escape.

Beautiful, Leo agreed. A man came out of the front door, and sure enough, he was holding a rifle, though he wasn’t pointing it at them. It was slung over his shoulder on a strap.

Let me handle this, Stacy warned, opening the door of the truck and sliding from the seat.

Name? the man called out.

Stacy Woo. Charlie DeSoto sent me.

He was slight of build, maybe 5’10, dark olive skin to match his dark, wavy hair and black eyes. Handsome, sure, but Stacy knew that look in his eyes. Cautious, alert, and dangerous. Get the others out of the truck and come in. I’m not inviting you to stay until I ask some questions.

Gruff, and rightly so, he was glaring at the truck, and it didn’t escape Stacy’s attention that his hands were twitching, as if one wrong move would have the gun in them and firing.

They filed up the stairs in a single line, each getting a nod from the owner as they passed him. Inside, the room was warm and welcoming, but not one of them, Stacy thought, felt any more at ease than she did.

There was a sectional sofa in the center of the room, pointing to the huge rock fireplace that had the television hanging above the mantle. The thick squared coffee table in the middle of that was filled with books and candles, and the rug under all of it was thick and dark brown.

There were plants near the windows, bookshelves on the opposite wall, and an old console stereo with a turntable. She blinked over at it, feeling herself smile inside as she thought of the one her grandparents had had, the one they’d play old Christmas music on and she’d watch the record spin round and round.

When he entered the house, closing the door behind him, he waved a hand toward the couch, inviting, Sit and tell me why I should open my home to you.

Mac asked, I’m McCully Blaylock. You are?

They all waited, and finally, he introduced himself. Steve Ricci. Former United States Marshal.

Stacy held out her hand, telling him, I’m sure Charlie told you, but I’m former FBI.

He told me, Steve said, shaking her hand, then Mac’s and Leo’s proffered hands.

Matt didn’t offer to shake, didn’t offer his name like the others had, taking a seat on the sofa, on the edge of one end of it.

Stacy watched Steve as Steve watched Matt, but some of the wariness left him as he visibly examined Matt’s wounds. You’re the one running, I’m guessing.

Matt looked up at him and said flatly, Yeah.

They all sat, Stacy closer to Matt without being right next to him. She started, "Mac is Matt’s cousin, and Leo is Mac’s partner. I know Leo from when we were kids. I lived next to his grandparents, so I trust him. Leo asked me to find Matt, and I did. I found him in a hospital, like you see him now. As we were leaving the hospital against medical advice, men were coming for him. I am pretty sure they were coming to finish the job.

No sooner did we get to my motel, and there they were again, the same men. We barely got out of there. That’s when I called Charlie. He’s the only one I know that knows New Mexico at all. The only one I trust.

Steve had listened through this, no expression to give away his thoughts. His dark eyes only moved to Matt when she’d finished her part of the story. This is accurate?

Yes. It is.

Mac prodded Matt, Tell him, tell us, what the Sam Hill is goin’ on, Matt. You don’t gotta tell it all, if it ain’t important or whatever, but I’m purty curious m’self.

He didn’t start right away, in fact, he didn’t seem to be breathing while he sat, his eyes locked with Steve’s. Stacy grew anxious while she waited, and the others were doing their fair share of fidgeting. All except those two, Matt staring, and eventually, staring down Steve, who lowered his eyes to the table after a couple minutes.

That’s when Matt started speaking, like he was waiting for that, for Steve to back down and as he wove his tale, they all lowered their eyes, unable to watch the pain as it crossed Matt’s