Claiming the Enemy: Dustin (Porter Brothers Trilogy 3)

Going past rows of plants, he made sure none had been disturbed and were still growing. At the last row, he hunkered down, touching the leaves and rubbing it between his fingers.

“They almost ready?”

Dustin rose to his feet, shining the flashlight toward Tate. “If the weather stays good, I’d say another week, two at the most. I thought you and Sutton would have left by now.” Dustin lowered the flashlight, walking around the plants to make sure none of the traps had been sprung or tampered with.

“Figured you wanted to talk when you left your shotgun behind.”

“I’ve had a few bad dreams lately.”

“I haven’t heard the death bells. How bad are the dreams?”

“Bad enough that whoever is going to die, it’s gonna be soon.”

“Fuck. Why you just telling me now?”

“I was waiting for you to tell me that you heard the death bells, but the dreams are coming more often and stronger. It’s going to be tonight or tomorrow. The last one was so fucking real I nearly checked my underwear when I woke up. I was afraid I shit myself.”

“Damn,” Tate swore. “Have you told Greer?”

“No. He wouldn’t be able to help, and I don’t want him blaming himself for being so weak right now. Whoever’s going to die isn’t going to be able to be helped by anyone.”

“What has you so protective of Greer lately? And hell, you didn’t even tell me about your dreams. You’ve been acting weird as fuck. What’s up?”

Dustin turned the light off, moving to stand next to him at the opening of the bushes. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just growing up. It’s about time, isn’t it?”

“You don’t want to tell me who you’re fucking or how work is going, you don’t have to share. But if something is bothering you like those crazy-ass dreams, I want to know.”

Dustin stared out into the darkness, a spark of unease rippling down his spine that death was just waiting out of sight.

“I didn’t want to burden you with my dreams if you hadn’t heard the death bells. You only hear them when you’ve been around who’s going to die, so we should be good, right?”

“I hope you’re right, brother. I was around every member of our family yesterday and today. I even worked with Rachel at The Last Riders’ factory, helping her set up a growing station for some new plants found. They had a cookout for lunch, so I talked to most of them. Even Knox and Diamond came by with Brink. I can’t think of anyone else we should worry about, can you? It’s not like we can do anything about it anyway. You’ve never had a dream that hasn’t come true, have you?”

Dustin could think of a couple of dreams that hadn’t come true, but none that he would discuss with Tate.

“No, my nightmares always come true.” He agreed on that point with his brother. “I guess we’ll find out who it is when it happens. You ready?”

“Yeah.”

Dustin let Tate scoot out under the bush before taking his turn. They were back at the house when he heard Tate swear next to him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Damn, I just thought of someone I haven’t been around lately.”

“Who?”

“Mag. I’ll call Cash and tell him to keep watch over her.”

“Save the phone call. It’s not Mag.” Dustin didn’t know who it was, but the one person in the world it wouldn’t be was Mag.

“You can’t be sure.”

“I’m sure. The person in my nightmare had the hell beaten out of them.”

“Oh, never mind. We’re good then.”

Dustin couldn’t hold back the dark humor at a thought that had come to his mind. Tate must have had the same thought because Dustin could hear him snickering. Anyone who was stupid enough to lay a hand on that mean old bitch would get her revolver shoved up their ass. She had been taken hostage before Rosie was born. Ever since, she kept a revolver hidden in her housecoat.

“Maybe you should call Cash. He invited Noah and Chance over to stay the night at his cabin. Those two boys are always in trouble. If they give that woman any trouble, and if Cash tries to protect them, she’ll break every bone in his body.”

Dustin had to wipe tears of laughter away when Tate made no move for his phone.

“You’re not going to call?” he managed to get out when he could stop laughing long enough.

“No. She can have him.”

Logan was already in bed, and Rachel and Ema had left before they got back to the house. Dustin stood on the front porch, watching Tate’s truck taillights disappear. Sitting down on the porch steps, he then took out his cell phone and swiped Cash’s number. It took several rings for him to answer.

“Hello?”

“Cash, how’s Mag doing?”

“That’s what Tate was just asking me when he called. She’s fine. He already warned me about your nightmare. She won’t be left alone.” Cash’s grave reassurance showed how seriously he took the warning that Tate must have given him.