Breaking the Bad Boy (23 page)

“Buck’s not here.”

“I know,” he grinned and Joss felt a little ill.

“What do you want?” She asked.

“Just looking at the merchandise, Blondie,” he said. He pulled a knife out of his boot and started picking at his fingernails. It took an effort not to roll her eyes at his theatrical flair.

“You should go away before you get hurt.” There was another sound to her left, and she was going to bet there was a third guy on her right who was just a lot quieter. The first guy chuckled a little.

“We thought we might have a little fun while your boyfriend is doing the medicine woman. She’s sweet, too, but I like white meat once in a while. It’s a nice bike, too.” Joss thought they must be idiots. If there were going to do this successfully they would have to get rid of Buck first, and if they had, they would have gloated about it. Instead, they merely wanted instant gratification, and it was going to be bad for them. She thought briefly about how expertly he got rid of the bear, and then the rapist. But he was bleeding and he left his gun with her, she would have to shoot them.
How many bullets do I have
? She hadn’t even checked the clip.

“This was poorly thought out, and it’s going to end badly for you,” she said. He chuckled again.

“Uh-huh,” he said.

“You and your friends seem to think I’m an easy target, but that could be very bad for your health. I strongly recommend that you go back to your own camps and we’ll just forget this ever happened. Buck is very… possessive.”

“Nah, nice try, Blondie, but that’s no fun,” he said coming nearer now. “And I aim to have me some fun.”

What is it with these people and fun? She heard the one on her right now. “You aren’t even proper Navajos. Your friends,” she pointed left and right, hoping she was somehow telling Buck where the enemy was, “are so loud I can hear them breathing. You won’t hear Buck when he’s right behind you, if you are lucky your death will be swift.” The first guy couldn’t help it; he turned to look behind him.

Buck had sneaked up behind the quieter guy on the Joss’ right and broke his knee quickly and soundly. There was a stifled cry from him, not the wail one would expect.

They had been only a few feet from Joss, and she stood from her squat and leveled the gun at the knife holder who had moved in closer to her as Buck slammed his fist into the third man’s face, and crashed him into a tree knocking him unconscious.

“Should I shoot him?” She asked Buck casually.

“Let’s see what Chee has to say about it. It would be his place to mete out punishment.” He called out something in Navajo and the knife guy’s shoulders sagged minutely.

Several men came into the clearing and looked around at the damage. For her sake, she assumed, Chee spoke in English.

“Bear’s Mistress, were you attacked by these three men?”

“They were on the verge when Buck dissuaded them,” she said. She could have gone on but Chee was not a chatty man, and Joss thought it wouldn’t matter anyway. He nodded.

“It is time for you to go, Bear’s Mistress. You are too compelling and these men are weak. Take your things and leave.” Chee said and she nodded, thinking it was an oddly formal dismissal.

“Thank you for your medicine,” she said. Buck picked up the panniers and followed her out of the clearing.

When they got to Buck’s bike the woman who put the ointment on her came to them and put a pot of it in Joss’s hand. “For your human lover,” she said and walked away. Buck mounted the bike and she climbed up behind him. He kicked the bike started and they roared away.

“Take my shirt off,” he called back to her and she reached around him and undid the buttons down the front, and pulled it carefully over his shoulders and down each arm. “Put it on, you’re getting burnt.” She looked at her arms and sure enough she was getting red. She pulled his shirt around her and tied it in a knot in front. “Lift my undershirt away on the left side and slather some of that goop on me.” She lifted his shirt away and once again it was stuck to his bloodied skin. “Rip it off, I’m ready.” Joss took a deep breath and ripped his shirt away from his wound. It must have been painful, but he didn’t even flinch.

The bullet had gone right through his flesh directly above his hip bone. The hip she had punched their first night together. Infection had set in since the last time she had seen it and it was now red for inches around both the entrance and the exit wounds. Both were filled with greenish pus. Buck needed antibiotics; this homemade goop was not going to do it.

“How bad?” He asked. For the first time she felt defeated. “I can tell by your breathing it’s bad. Squeeze the pus out, Duchess. Be brave.”

“Not while we’re going seventy miles an hour, I’m brave, not fool hardy.” She couldn’t hear him, but she saw his shoulders move. The bastard was laughing. “Can we pull off for a bit? How soon before they come after us?”

“I had hoped that you wouldn’t figure that out; you’re too smart for your own good, Duchess.”

“Well, unless they enlist someone else, you evened the playing field. The guy whose knee you broke won’t be following us, at least.”

“I got a little carried away, but I just saw red when I saw what they were trying to do.”

“Do they know you’re hurt?”

“We have to assume they do,” he said.

“All they know is that you’re still pretty kick ass even when you’re hurt,” she sighed. “Show me how to drive this thing; is it any different from the dirt bikes at home? You can pass out in the back if you promise not to fall off.”

“You want me to ride bitch?” He asked appalled.

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” She said and he laughed.

“Okay, this is the clutch...” he explained it twice, and then she repeated back to him what he told her. She was a fast learner, and she had the advantage of having grown up around dirt bikes. Her disadvantage was that this bike was very heavy and would be hard for her to pick up if it went down, and if Buck passed out she was going down. Buck pulled over and she got off so he could just sit back.

He had felt the infection getting to him a few hours ago, and he almost wasn’t strong enough for the three men in the glade. He only saw two of them initially; if Joss hadn’t told him where the other guy was they would have had a very different ending. The idea of her at their mercy made him ill, and he hoped she’d use the gun if she needed to. He wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve.

“Hold me Buck, and don’t let me go.” He laughed and pulled up his shirt and stopped laughing.

“Before you pass out, where are we going?” She asked.

“I won’t pass out, that would tip us over. Gas up in Lewistown, and then turn south to
Billings
, they won’t see us coming. Find us a cheap motel room; don’t use your Visa, Duchess; cash only.”

“They took me in my nightgown; I haven’t got any money at all, or a driver’s license, for that matter,” she said and he chuckled.

“I’ll arrest you as soon as I have the strength, Duchess.”

“Clean your wound out, human lover, I’ll catch you if you fall,” she said and he squeezed and puked over the side and squeezed some more. His hands were trembling when he applied the ointment and he sat clinging to her in a fog while she used all the strength she had to keep him upright.

“You’re doing great, Duchess,” he said at one point, his voice weak. “You’re so fucking brave.”

True to his word, he didn’t pass out, but she was supporting more and more of his weight as the day progressed. The weight of him nearly knocked her over when she stopped for gas in Lewistown. She stalled the bike, jerking him aware. They had to stop there, she couldn’t continue like this much longer.

They stopped at a Super Eight Motel and Joss checked in as Agnes Frey, and her husband Al. She helped him into the room and rolled the Harley in with them. It was probably against the rules, but she didn’t want anybody to identify the bike and figure out where they were. She stripped him down and then held him up in the hottest shower she could stand to get rid of the poisons in his wounds; then she squeezed the new pus out of him and staggered under his weight in the shower. This was the last shower; he wouldn’t be able to get out of bed until his infection was gone.

Once in bed she put the Navajo ointment on his wound and gave him the last of the Advil. At least the infection hadn’t gotten worse. When she tried to stand up he held her wrist. She touched his forehead, he was seriously hot.

“Don’t go, Duchess, hold me and nothing can hurt me.” His eyes were closed. The pain of her squeezing out his wound must have been brutal, but he didn’t say a word. The man was something else, and she was getting terrified. “Just hold me for a bit, lie with me, please, Joss.”

She couldn’t refuse him, he was too compelling. She dropped her towel and climbed into the bed. Her head was cradled on his chest and he turned his face to her. “There are things you should know, Joss,” he said.

“Shh, don’t sound so doom and gloom, we’re going to be fine. This is
America
, people don’t die from infections; there are hospitals on every corner.”

“Joss, listen, this is important,” he said.

“Tell me.” She touched his drawn face. “I’m listening.”

“The woman in the restaurant,” he said and she laughed.

“Yes, are you finally going to tell me what she said?”

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes and she realized he had fallen asleep, and she chuckled softly to herself and soon followed him.

“Not Joss!” Buck sat up and shouted. She squeaked and he grabbed her and held her by the wrists. The room was dark and he didn’t know who she was. He had flipped her over on to her back and he had her pinioned to the bed.

“Buck, it’s okay, it’s me, my love, just me. It’s okay,” he heard her and let her wrists go.

“Shit, Joss. Did I hurt you?”

“You scared the crap out of me, but I’m fine,” she said touching his face. He pulled her up and held her to him, breathing her in.

“Oh, God. You’re okay. I’m sorry, bad dream; I get weird fever dreams, Duchess. You’re okay, thank God you’re okay.” He leaned back pulling her with him. His grip on her was unyielding, his body on fire and trembling. She touched his face tenderly.

“The infection is going to kill you, Buck. Should I call the FBI? Now would be a good time for the guys in the white hats. Is there someone I can call? Can I take you to a hospital?”

“No, my Duchess. Lanier took my phone, but you could call this number and ask for James Fields. No one else, do you understand? He’s the only friend I’ve got. I’ve tried to call him twice now, but I get no answer. It’s not like him,” Buck made a face. “When you call, he’ll ask how your husband is and you tell him he had his appendix removed… how many days, Duchess?”

“Three,” she said.

“Monday then, appendix came out on Monday or was it Sunday night? It doesn’t matter; you need money for the operation.” He said and let her go.

“Are you for real? Can’t I just say you’re going to die without medical attention and we have murderous bank robbers and half the Navajo nation after us?”

“Yeah, see if that’ll work,” he grinned at her. “James Fields, Duchess, no one else.”

“Don’t you move from this bed,” she said getting out of it.

“Wait, don’t go yet, we have a few hours before I slip into a coma, come here and have your way with me, Daisy Duke, I’ve had a hard on for you all day.” She rolled her eyes.

“Drink this, I’m finding a phone booth,” she handed him a glass of water. “It’s going to be okay, Buck.” She moved his hair off his forehead. He closed his eyes enjoying her touch.

“Joss, be careful, take the gun with you,” he said and she nodded.