He had always kept a kit in his saddlebag, but his old one was nowhere near as nice as this one. It would fit perfectly in his saddlebag. He would let Rider or one of the other brothers have the old one if he didn’t need it.
Train looked for where it came from, already knowing he wouldn’t find it. He would get Crash to check out the return address, though he didn’t expect to find anything more this time than he had the last when his wallet had been mailed.
He rubbed the soft leather. It was beautiful and would increase in beauty with age, like Killyama.
Train swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew she had sent them both, but she didn’t want any acknowledgment. If he asked, he knew she would just deny it. Stori wanted credit for everything she did for him, yet Killyama went out her way to keep him in the dark.
With every step he took toward her, he took two steps back. She didn’t even want to admit aloud they were a couple, she avoided any outward signs of affection, and she maintained her space when he was in bed with her at night. The only time he could see what she felt for him was when they had sex, and she always tried to control it for as long as she could. He was never going to understand her until she opened up to him, yet she refused to.
If he asked about her father or her past relationships to try to find out what had made her so closed off emotionally, she would turn her waspish tongue on him. It had become easier to let it ride, hoping she would loosen up when she realized she could trust him.
“Yeah, like that’s ever going to happen,” he muttered to himself as he answered his cell phone.
“Killyama is in a small town in Tennessee. Looks like they are trying to get someone. They’re parked in an alleyway, watching a vacant building across the street.”
Son of a bitch. The woman had promised to tell him when she was going on a hunt. He wouldn’t have let Crash take over for him if he had known she was working.
He was about to disconnect the call when he heard Crash cursing.
“What? What’s going on?”
“It’s cool. They’re taking down an old woman who was going inside the building. They’re taking her to their Escalade now. Looks like she will be making your party tonight, after all,” Crash joked, then started cursing again.
“What?”
“The old bat tried to pull a gun on Killyama when she tried to frisk her. She took it away … Ow, that looks like it hurt—”
“Who got hurt?” Train stood up, knocking his stool into Razer who was working behind him.
“The old woman. Killyama put her hand on the gun’s chamber, and then twisted it out of her hand. From what I can hear, she’s screaming that Killyama broke her thumb.”
Breaking out in cold sweat, Train used his foot to slide his stool back under him. “Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. She’s still yelling at Killyama.”
“Not the old woman.” Train’s voice rose. He didn’t even notice that the workers had stopped to eavesdrop on the one-sided conservation. “Killyama? Is she okay?”
“Oh, yes, she fine. The old woman is crying, though.”
“Crash, I don’t care about the old woman!”
“Brother, stop yelling at me. She’s helping the old bitch get into the SUV. They’re leaving. I’ll call you back when I know where they’re going next. Later.” The line went dead.
He was going to stra—He was going to yell … Dammit, he wasn’t even going to be able to yell at her because he didn’t want her to know he was watching her. She would be the one strangling him if she found out.
“Trouble?”
Train turned toward Razer who was openly curious. In fact, several of the other workers were waiting attentively for his answer.
“No. Killyama must have caught a fugitive, and she pulled a gun.”
“She pulled a gun on a fugitive? I didn’t know bounty hunters could carry a gun?” Razer’s expression filled with concern.
Train didn’t know if Razer’s concern stemmed from worry of another brother’s woman or Beth’s.
“No, the fugitive pulled one on Killyama,” Train explained, beginning to understand Crash’s predicament of explaining the incident.
“I’m glad she wasn’t hurt.”
“The fugitive or Killyama?” Train tried to joke off the fear he had felt when he had heard a gun had been pulled on her.
She was going to have to find another job. He didn’t give a shit that she worked with Hammer and Jonas. There had to be safer jobs she could do; ones that didn’t involve guns, knives, and old women who wanted to shoot her.
“Killyama wouldn’t have hurt the old woman. That’s her weakness.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because, she takes trays of cookies to women living in nursing homes every Christmas. She even sends some to Beth to bring to the one in Treepoint. She also gives Lily coats to give to the elderly women who come to the church store needing them. Killyama told Lily to tell her when she runs out of them so she’d buy some more.”