ALWAYS (A Wolfe Brothers Novel)

ALWAYS

ALWAYS

A Wolfe Brothers Novel

Lita Stone – litastone.com

Copyright Lita Stone 2014

Published at Smashwords

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ALWAYS

To hell with reading, writing and
arithmetic. In health class, Cam had learned the answer to the
question that had haunted his waking and sleeping thoughts. He had
found peace. No more restless nights, stomach cramps and blinding
headaches. The answer to the puzzle hid within a simple statistic.
More than eighty percent of alcohol-related boating accidents
resulted in death by drowning.

Cam stood on the edge of Lake Raven, a
remote pond nestled deep in the forest of Huntsville State Park. A
hundred yards off shore empty cans bobbed around Tony’s aluminum
boat.

From a Styrofoam cooler Cam grabbed a
can of beer, cracked it open and guzzled.

Tony had always fished alone but not by
choice. Repeatedly, he’d invited Sam an elderly neighbor and Larry
a co-worker from the packaging plant. Not once had either
accepted.

Unlike Tony, Cam wanted no
friends. His six-foot frame and nearly two hundred pounds proved
useful in keeping people at a distance. Not many other
fourteen-year-olds measured up. He was a freak-of-nature the school
bully had teased, until Cam knocked three of his teeth loose,
earning him the nickname
The Tooth
Reaper
.

Cam needed little out of life, save the
one thing he had obsessed over for the past few months.

Tony.

Dead.

Cam’s six-inch height advantage wasn’t
enough. He needed bulk too, otherwise Tony might overpower him,
even kill him. Mom was timid. She’d never challenge Tony and Cam’s
younger brother Ajay would be left to fend for himself.

Blood raced through Cam’s veins. Sweat
bubbled on his forehead. A flash of heat swept over his body. With
balled fists, he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing,
slow and deep.

The Panthers’ tight-end had taught him
this technique after he had complained about the side effects of
the damn steroids. The drug drove his temper to borderline
uncontrollable levels. Despite the side effects, the desperation to
increase his size and do it quickly, kept Cam the tight end’s most
loyal customer.

Six months of H.C.G. and working out in
the high school weight room had earned Cam an extra twenty-two
pounds. He was finally ready to rid their family of the
bastard.

Ajay lay on his stomach by Cam’s feet.
He pushed a toy car through the dried pine needles. “It’s getting
dark.” He glanced up at Cam. “You think we might go home
soon?”

Dried blood covered the crack on Ajay’s
bottom lip. The purple on the apple of his cheek had darkened but,
at least the swelling had gone down. Last night’s beating had left
obvious marks. Tony was getting careless.

Cam crouched beside Ajay. “What were
you thinking, bringing a knife to school?” He lifted Ajay’s shirt.
Between his shoulder blades where Tony had burned him with a
cigarette, a blister oozed puss. “If you stop screwing up, maybe
Tony would get me one of these nights instead of you.”

Ajay shrugged as he glided the
miniature corvette over a rock.

“
Shithead,” Tony bellowed
from the middle of the lake. “Beer.”

“
Want me to go this time?”
Ajay asked.

Cam rubbed the black hair on top of
Ajay’s head. “You take enough shit from him already. I got
this.”

“
Now!” Tony’s gruff voice
echoed off the dense greenery of the secluded
campground.

Cam pulled Ajay’s shirt down. Gently,
he gripped his brother under the arms and turned him until his back
was toward the lake. He pulled his sweat-drenched shirt over his
head, folded it and set it on a boulder.

Ajay glanced over his shoulder. “What
you gonna do?”

“
Bring Tony his
beer.”

Chapter One

19 years later

The solitude of the Texas campground
hadn’t dimmed Maggie’s anxiety like she’d hoped, but the five beers
sure as hell did. She might even be drunk enough to pee in one of
the nasty outhouses.

She chugged her beer and set the can
between the ribs running along the bottom of the canoe. Grabbing
another from the cooler, she shifted her weight, rocking the boat.
Empty cans rolled and clattered. Water splashed over the
gunnel.

Tilly sat across from Maggie reading a
paperback. She set her book down and tilted her oversized sun hat
until it cast a shadow over her pale legs. “I think you’ve had
enough.”

Maggie cracked the can open and took a
sip. “I’m just getting started.” She glanced over her shoulder at
the bow of the canoe where she’d stowed her gun. The .38 snub-nosed
revolver made for a lightweight and easily concealable weapon, or
at least that was what her older brother had said the day he taught
her how to use it.

She braced her palms and leaned
backward, stretching her body, hoping her emerald bikini hid little
from the last of the day’s sunshine.

Tilly lifted her chin, gesturing toward
the embankment. “I’ve seen him somewhere but I can’t place
him.”

A tall man stood on shore. He wore
black hiking boots and faded jeans. A navy blue T-shirt stretched
smooth over a well-muscled chest.

Maggie turned to get a better view. The
bow dipped. Water seeped into the canoe. “You know him?”

Tilly shrugged. “Maybe I’ve seen him at
Chase Industries.”

Maggie snickered. “He doesn’t strike me
as the computer-geek type.”

When Maggie planned this getaway,
staying drunk was the only task on the itinerary. Not getting laid.
The five beers she had drank must’ve warped her already demented
mind. She needed a distraction and she needed to feel good. And he
looked like he could make her feel great.

Tilly covered her mouth and gasped.
“That’s no rifle he’s holding.”

Maggie’s head spun. She gripped the
seat, trying to steady herself but lost her balance. Her body
swayed. The trees surrounding the lake blurred in a drunken
haze.

The canoe tilted and
Maggie’s grip slipped. Head first, she toppled into the lake.
Darkness surrounded her. She flailed and kicked but where was the
surface? Had she swam up or down? Her lungs tightened, begging for
air. The pounding of her heart rang in her ears.
She was going to die.

Closing her eyes, she
inhaled.

# # #

Warm lips pressed against her mouth.
Maggie opened her eyes.

A man was knelt beside
her.
“Thought you needed CPR. But all you
need is a strong cup of coffee.”

Water dripped from his short black hair
and bare chest. His jeans were soaked. A gold ring dangled from a
thick chain circling his neck.

A pungent flavor of spoiled fish
lingered on her tongue. Bile rose in her throat. Gagging and
coughing, she twisted and vomited. A string of saliva trailed from
her bottom lip. With the back of her hand, she wiped her
mouth.

Tilly stood behind him, her drenched
blouse plastered to her petite frame. “Is she gonna be
okay?”

The man said, “Anybody ever tell you
that boating and drinking is a good way to get yourself
killed?”

Maggie propped herself on her forearms
and glanced across the water. The canoe floated upside down,
surrounded by cans and floatation cushions. Fog clouded her vision
and her head spun. She palmed her forehead. “One beer too many.”
Maggie rolled to the side and patted the ground, scouring the pine
needles and dried leaves. “Where’s my gun?”

As the man’s arm circled her waist, she
scented bourbon on his breath. He scooped her up, one arm under her
legs, and the other under her back.

“
Probably at the bottom of
the lake,” he said.

An enormous stranger had her cradled
like they were longtime lovers. His lips curled into a crooked
smile, a smile any sane girl would find terrifying, but she found
mildly disturbing, and at the same time, sexy as hell.

He turned from the water’s edge and
traipsed along a worn path through the woods.

“
We appreciate your help.”
Tilly followed closely. “But I can take it from here.”

They came to an empty campsite. He set
Maggie down at a picnic table and glanced at Tilly. “Take her to
the hospital. Just to be sure.” He turned back toward
Maggie.

Black, empty, doll-like eyes drilled
into her. A smirk formed on his unshaven face. He ran a hand
through his unkempt hair, before turning and disappeared the way
they’d come.

Tilly knelt before Maggie and brushed a
damp strand from Maggie’s cheek. “You scared the crap out of me.
Are you sure you’re okay?”

“
Is he coming
back?”

“
Let’s put some distance
between us and him and if you’re up to it, we’ll head back to your
cabin.”

“
You go,” Maggie said.
“I’ll catch up to you.” She stood and staggered toward the greenery
where the mysterious stranger had disappeared.

Tilly gently grasped both Maggie’s arms
and forced her to sit back down. “No way.”

“
What?”

“
Are you insane? Tell me
you’re not thinking of bedding that man.”

Maggie laughed. “No. I plan on fucking
him.” Again she stood but Tilly pushed her back down.

“
You’ve done some stupid
stuff but this is over-the-top . . . even for you.”

Maggie scowled. “What’s your
problem?”

“
My problem? I’ll tell you
what my problem is.” Tilly’s voice pitched and Maggie resisted
rolling her eyes. Tilly continued. “That man is not to be trusted.
How about a little common sense? He looked as if he was ready to
kill somebody.”

Maggie sighed. “I think you’re
overreacting just a bit.”

“
And as usual you’re
under-reacting. The guy’s huge, like Guinness Book huge and there’s
something else.”

“
I thought you said you
knew him.”

“
I said he looked
familiar,” Tilly said. “Big difference. I could’ve seen him at the
grocery store or in a restaurant or on America’s Most
Wanted.”

Maggie pressed her lips together in a
tight smile. “Well, he’s probably long gone by now
anyway.”

Tilly’s hands went to her hips. She
scowled. “Before the canoe capsized I saw him—.”

The man strode from woods
toward them. When he looked at her, Maggie almost detected a smile.
His olive skin, sculpted jawline and six o’clock shadow gave him a
rugged, bad boy look—and bad boys were her weakness. Maggie’s
breath caught in her throat. A shirt covered his chest. He held
hiking boots and a Glock—not her revolver. Maggie sighed in
disappointment
.

He inclined his head at Tilly. “Get her
to a hospital.”

Maggie watched him walk toward the
road, a wide dirt path that connected all the camp sites. “Hey!”
she said.

He stopped walking but never turned,
keeping his back to her.

“
I’m Maggie.”

Shaking his head, he continued
walking.

Strange. Most men would have made small
talk or flirted. Maybe he was gay.

At the end of the site a lanky man ran
toward her mammoth of a rescuer. His blond hair stretched half way
down his back. “Cam!”