Tossing his gear in his saddle bags, Cree straddled his Harley and settled in as he fired it up. One last look around and he shifted gears, heading for one last spot before he left for Hill City.
As he travelled through the reservation, he saw signs of religious worship. Prayer sticks, small bundles tied to branches, and even brightly coloured fabric hung in shrubs sporadically as he made his way through the Badlands, all signs of worship by the tribal members.
Stronghold Table was thought to be the site of the last Ghost Dance. It was a place for men to fast and pray, hoping to have a vision of their future. What he wouldn’t give for more time to continue his search for his connection to the earth, to find peace.
He could almost see and hear the ancestors as they travelled through the steep cliffs, canyons, ravines, and gullies which made up the area. Slowing down, he watched the sun wash across the landscape. The dark black and blue coal strata mixed with the bright clays of reds and orange scoria created a spectacular colour display. Cree was awestruck every time he travelled through the area. Deciding this was his time, he turned off the main road. Travelling along a two-track lane worn into the landscape, he headed toward the Stronghold Table. Hell with the landowners if they didn’t want him on their land. Let them try and stop him.
Standing on the Stronghold Table, Cree raised his arms out at his sides, embracing the warmth of the sun’s rays. Closing his eyes, he listened to the whispers of the soft winds coming off the cliffs. In his mind, echoes from his childhood had him moving his feet to the sound of distant chanting.
The dance and chanting were meant to reunite the living with the dead. The chanting faded into his memories, and he stopped moving. Dropping his arms, he felt almost settled.
The sound of talking broke the moment. Turning around, Cree saw a group of people with their cameras out.Tourists.
He could see it now—Indian warrior seen dancing at the Stronghold Table. Serves him right for trespassing.
Chapter Three
It was more than Kennedy expected as she looked around the small storeroom. A small loveseat was tucked against the far wall, with a few tattered blankets laying across the arm. “This must be where they take breaks.” Shuffling over to the sofa, Kennedy dropped down onto the lumpy piece of furniture. Letting out a sigh, she reached down and gently tugged off her shoes. Blisters covered her heels and toes. Her legs were covered in cuts and scratches.
Shrugging out of her ruined jacket, her shoulder burned as her blouse pulled at her skin. Glancing at the area, Kennedy saw her blouse was covered in dried blood. Moving the fabric aside only tugged more at the skin it was stuck to, causing her to wince. Covering her face with both hands, Kennedy cried silently. She’d learned how to swallow her emotions when she was little. Her stepfather’s words shouted in her head.Crying won’t get you anywhere or anything.
Resting her head back, Kennedy wondered how in the holy hell she’d gotten into this mess. Oh yeah, she mistakenly thought she forgot her phone at work and went back for it. That was the precise moment everything went down the toilet.
She’d been running ever since.
Two days ago . . .
Needing to buy herself some time, Kennedy drove through the city and managed to find the restaurant. Sitting in the parking lot, she gave herself a moment to decide what she needed to do. Run, that little voice screamed in her head. Her boss had too many prominent friends to go to the police.
Looking around the crowded parking lot, she climbed out of the vintage car and locked it. Wrapping her winter coat tightly around her body, she took off on foot. If Mr. Angelini or his thugs came looking, they’d see the car parked in the lot and she hoped it would give her time to get home.
She ran eight blocks, zigzagging through crowds of people and happy shoppers. She cut down side streets and back alleys, not wanting to be seen on a main road. The entire way, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket.
When she stopped to catch her breath, she pulled it out. Standing on a dark corner on a side street, the screen lit up her face. The message came across from her boss.
Mr. Angelini: Kennedy, I could really use your help. Could you come back to the office after your date?
Hell no! With the message glaring at her, Kennedy knew they were onto her.
Taking off, she ran another block before answering the message.
Kennedy: Can I come in tomorrow?
Mr. Angelini: Of course.
Shutting off the phone, she put it away and ran the last three blocks home, tripping over a curb and landing on a knee. Shoving off the ground, she barely looked at the large scrape that covered the area before running into her apartment building.
Climbing the stairs, her knee throbbed and burned. Kennedy wished the damn place had an elevator so she wouldn’t have to run up three flights of stairs, but living in the older part of town didn’t grant you luxury. It granted you lower rent.
Once at her door, she looked around before opening it and entered quietly. Closing the door just as quietly, she moved through the apartment without turning on any lights. When she was sure no one was hiding in wait, she rushed into her closet and grabbed the go bag she kept there. Looking around, she didn’t have a lot of time to pack anything else. Dino and Chuckie could have figured out she wasn’t at the restaurant by now.
Grabbing the cash she kept taped to the back of a wall decoration, Kennedy headed for the kitchen for a bottle of water. She barely had the bottle to her lips when she heard male voices coming up the stairs. “Shit.” Setting the bottle down, she pulled the backpack on and headed back to her bedroom. Closing the bedroom door, she went to the window and opened it. Crawling out onto the fire escape, she closed the window and made her way down the ladder, one rung at a time. On the second-floor landing, she saw her downstairs neighbour trying on his wife’s dress. To each their own, she thought as she made her way down the next ladder. Dropping to the ground, her knee buckled slightly, causing her to almost hit the pavement a second time. She dashed down the alley, only to be spotted. She heard one of the men yell her name, and as she glanced back, she heard a shot ring out.
Instantly, Kennedy felt something impact the top of her shoulder. Reaching up, she grabbed the area as a burning pain told her she’d been hit. How bad, she didn’t know and didn’t have time to check. Blood covered her hand when she pulled it away.
Another shot rang out, hitting the ground close to her, sending debris against her bare leg. Terrified, she made her way to her parked car. Hitting the unlock button on the door, she jumped in, fired it up, and slammed it into gear.
She mistakenly thought she’d be safe driving. She only stopped long enough for gas and to pee until she got to Provo, Utah.
