A Broken Outlaw (Belles & Bullets Book 7) Read online

  A BROKEN OUTLAW

  Caylen McQueen

  ©Copyright 2017 Caylen McQueen

  One

  After three days in bed, Josiah Cole's rest was interrupted by the unfortunate arrival of morning. Rays of light poured through the window, and like slender fingers of the sun, they crawled across the dusty floor. When he was finally out of bed, Josiah couldn't stop staring at the face in the mirror. He looked like a different person. His eyes were dark, worn and tired; which was odd, since he had done nothing but sleep. He occasionally ate meals with Carol, but when she was gone, he slept. His depression kept his head crushed against a pillow for countless hours.

  For the first time, Josiah saw his missing appendage in the mirror's reflection. At first, he could only see the empty sleeve dangling from his shirt, so he tore off the garment and cast it aside. His bare chest was as muscular as ever, his right arm was sinewy and freckled—and his left arm was gone. As he sighed over the stump, a tiny growl rumbled his throat. When he was lucky enough to have two arms, he took them for granted.

  How could he not hate himself every time he saw it? Not only was the stump an eyesore, it was a permanent reminder of his failure. He couldn't save Shuchun Jun. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the silent expectation in her eyes when she saw him approach. She expected Josiah to rescue her, but he didn't. In fact, he lost the fight so quickly, humiliation buzzed in his stomach at the thought of it. Wherever Jun was, Josiah hoped she could forgive him one day.

  Josiah dressed for the day, and the simple task took four times longer with one arm. Buttoning his shirt and getting his belt through its loops was especially time-consuming. Had Carol been nearby, he might have asked for her help. More than likely, he would have insisted on doing it himself. After all, he still had a shred of pride within him.

  Josiah didn't bother with a coat or hat, not when his goal was a quick sprint to the general store across the street. As he crossed the well-traveled, cobbled road of Santa Rosa, he spotted Gwen at a nearby cafe. She was dining with a red-haired youth, and when she saw Josiah glancing in her direction, she looked down at her table, avoiding eye contact. Apparently, she still struggled to see her hero in a diminished state. Gwen's reaction inspired a few muttered curses from Josiah, who breezed through the general store as quickly as he could. He hurriedly grabbed the items he needed, including a bar of chocolate, which was more of a want than a requirement. As soon as he had everything, he paid at the counter and ran back to Carol's apartment.

  When he returned to the looking glass and studied his face, Josiah indulged in a series of sighs. If he didn't feel like the same person on the inside, he didn't want to look like the same person on the outside. When he felt tough, he wanted to look tough. But now that he felt like less of a man, he wanted his appearance to reflect that.

  Josiah couldn't remember the last time he shaved. He regularly trimmed his beard, but he hadn't shaved in years. The lather on his face felt like a foreign object. As the razor hovered near his chin, Josiah's eyes fluttered. He was nervous. Josiah couldn't believe he was actually nervous. However, after the first stroke of the razor, he relaxed a bit. He flicked the discarded hair and suds into the wash basin and continued undaunted. When he was halfway finished, Josiah barely recognized the blue-eyed boy in the mirror.

  Josiah finished shaving and wiped his face with a fluffy towel, removing the excess soap. For the next few minutes, he studied his reflection through narrowed eyes. Josiah was a stranger to himself.

  Sighing yet again, he returned to his bed, kicked off his boots, flopped down, and tore open his chocolate bar with his teeth. He had barely taken two bites before Carol burst into his bedroom without knocking.

  “Omigosh! I just talked to Gwen, and she said she saw you out and about and.... aaaaaaaaaaiiieeeee!”

  Ignoring Carol's ear-piercing squeal, Josiah complained, “Damn, girl, do you ever knock? What if my britches were around my ankles? What if I was taking a sh--”

  “Oh. My. GOD!” Carol leapt into bed beside Josiah and grabbed his face between her hands. “Who is this, what have you done with Josiah Cole?”

  Josiah raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say a word. He took a bite of his chocolate and waited for her to explain herself.

  “You shaved!” Carol shrieked. “Holy moly oly, Jojo! I barely recognize you!”

  Josiah shrugged dismissively. “It's not that big of a deal.”

  “Are you kidding me? It's a huge deal!” Carol's eyes bulged as she ran a thumb along his soft, shaved cheek. “You're adorable! I always knew you'd be cuter without that scruffy old beard, but I didn't expect this. All of a sudden, you're like... a ten out of ten!”

  “Don't patronize me, Carol,” Josiah grumbled, leaning away from her hand. “Without an arm, I could only ever be a four, and you know it.”

  “Whaaaaaat?” Carol shrilled. “Don't be ridiculous! With these striking good looks, no one's even going to notice your missing arm.”

  Josiah took another nibble from his chocolate bar, and with a shake of his head, he murmured, “Still patronizing.”

  “Gosh, Josiah. How long are you going to be this mopey?”

  “I don't know, Carol. Maybe I just lost an arm. Maybe that's life-altering. Maybe you need to try to understand that.” Josiah angrily shoved the rest of his chocolate into his mouth and pitched the wrapper across the room. After chewing and swallowing, he continued, “Besides, Gwen won't even look at me. Being shunned by a girl who used to admire me is a cold, hard reminder of how much I've changed.”

  “Well... pffffft! Who needs Gwen when you've got Carol Cassady?” she asked with a wink. “Besides, Gwen was on a date. Maybe she didn't want to pay too much attention to you when she was with another guy?”

  “She's blatantly ignoring me, Carol. Don't make excuses for her.”

  “Oh! Get this!” Carol continued with a gasp. “Her date's name is Aloysius McDardles-Ham. I don't think I could go out with a guy named Aloysius McDardles-Ham and not have this lingering fear in the back of my mind that I could be Mrs. Aloysius McDardles-Ham one day. Have you ever heard a more ridiculous name?”

  “I don't know. Carol McDardles-Ham sounds pretty snappy, if you ask me.”

  Carol dealt a light punch to Josiah's remaining arm. “Yeah, right! It sounds horrible! It sounds almost as bad as Carol Cole.”

  “I think Carol Cole sounds pretty darn good.”

  Carol could feel herself blushing, and she hated it. It took her a moment to think of the appropriate comeback. “Awwww. You want to marry me, huh? I didn't realize you were sweet on me, Josiah Cole. Let's hope your little crush doesn't ruin our perfect friendship.”

  “Oh, but I wasn't talking about you marrying me,” Josiah playfully corrected her. “I was talking about you marrying Flynn.”

  “Right. Uh-huh. If we ever find your brother, I'll be sure to tell him we're engaged. A-anyway...” Josiah's teasing briefly derailed her thoughts. “I've been working on your new arms. A few of them might need a few small tweaks, but I think I'm ready to show you what I've got.”

  Josiah raised a blonde eyebrow as he repeated the words, “A few?”

  “Oh, yeah! I've got multiple options for you. Is that exciting or what? I'll be right back!” Carol's long pigtails whipped wildly as she raced from the room. When she returned, she was pushing a large black trunk. In fact, it was so large, she had to kick it through the narrow doorway. By the time she made it to Josiah's bedside, she was panting. “Alright,” she puffed, “are you ready for my big presentation?”

  “Sure. But I'm a little nervous.”

  “I'd be nervous too if I was about to have my mind blown!
” Carol exclaimed as she dipped into the trunk and pulled out her first prosthetic limb. It was a lengthy strip of leather with straps and two hooks. “Okay, I'll be honest with you. This is the least impressive of the bunch.”

  “And you invented all these, right?”

  “I did. Well... actually, I adapted this one from a preexisting model.” Carol sat beside him and carefully fastened the double hook hand to Josiah's stump.

  “Why are there two hooks?” Josiah had to ask.

  “So you can grip stuff. Here, I'll demonstrate using your favorite thing in the world.” Carol pulled out a bottle of whiskey and placed it on the bed. Then she shoved Josiah's hook hand to the bottle and shouted. “Grip!”

  At the sound of her voice, the two hooks drew together, pinching the neck of the bottle. When Josiah tried to move the bottle to his lips using nothing but the prosthetic limb, he was glad it wasn't open, or it would have spilled down the front of his shirt.

  “It's not very flexible.”

  Ignoring his complaint, Carol continued, “As you can see, it's voice operated. Right now, it only responds to the sound of my voice, but with a few easy tweaks, I can get it working for you too.”

  “I don't know if I like it.” Josiah winced as the opinion flew from his lips. He hoped she wouldn't be too offended; after all, she had been working tirelessly to help him. Carol Cassady was probably the only one in the world who cared—except for his brother, who was miles away and missing.

  “Awww! Why not? I thought you'd like it 'cuz it makes you look like a pirate!”

  “I think that's why I don't like it,” Josiah sighed. “What else do you have in that trunk, Miss Cassady?”

  “Moving on.” Carol removed the hook arm and replaced it with a flesh-toned arm and hand. “This one can't grip or anything, but if you check the panel on the wrist, you'll see a bunch of buttons. Basically, this hand makes all kinds of gestures. You can motion for someone to come closer, make an o-k sign, give a thumbs-up... that kind of thing.”

  “Why would I need to do that? I can still make gestures with the hand I've got left, can't I?” Josiah thought his question was innocent enough, but it brought a scowl to Carol's brow. “What? Why do you look so angry?”

  “Because I've been working hard, Josiah Cole! Sooo hard!” Carol whimpered. “I wanted you to like these, but so far, you've been super negative.”

  “I'm not being negative! Actually, I like this one a lot better!” To show her he was satisfied, Josiah's pressed the button for “thumbs-up” on the wrist's panel. When the thumb shot up, he exclaimed, “Look at that! That's pretty nifty!”

  “Don't pretend you like it!”

  “I do like it!” Josiah insisted. “I've got to ask, though... what are these spots on the arm?” He pointed at the small dark dots scattered across the prosthesis' fake skin.

  “I tried to give it freckles... because you have freckles.” With a frown, she added, “But they don't look right, do they?”

  “Nah. They're fine! I like it!” Josiah assured her. Crestfallen Carol seemed to have lost some of her boundless joy, so he decided to be extra kind until she recovered some enthusiasm. “You know, I really like the fact that you can--”

  Before he could finish, the door opened, and Gwen Montgomery stuck her head into the bedroom. “Carol,” Gwen began, “I have a date with Tucker in about an hour. Before that, I'm going to grab your grocery list and head to the market. Would that be alright with you?”

  “Sure thing, hon!” Carol replied. “Don't forget the tomatoes!”

  When she saw Gwen's eyes quickly passing over Josiah's face, Carol felt sorry for him. Josiah was right. For whatever reason, Gwen was determined to ignore his existence.

  As Gwen retreated from the room, Josiah pressed the button for “middle finger” and held up the prosthetic hand. Unfortunately, Gwen's back was already turned, so she missed the cheeky gesture.

  “Nice one, Josiah!” Carol commended him. “And totally appropriate, if you ask me.”

  “I thought so. That girl's just making me more upset about this situation, and she doesn't even care.”

  “I think it's just hard for her to see you like this,” Carol suggested with a shrug.

  “Yeah? And guess who it's harder on. Me. So you'll have to forgive me if I have no sympathy for her.” When Josiah leaned back and crossed his arms, the middle finger on the prosthesis was still sticking up. “Who the hell is Tucker?”

  “It's another guy she's dating. We've only been in Santa Rosa for a week, but she's, uh... Gwen's pretty popular, you could say.”

  “I guess she's forgotten all about me.”

  “Oh my! Are you jealous?” Carol dipped into her trunk and pulled out her third option: a mechanical hand with four fingers. It was almost impossible to make a working opposable thumb in the little time she had, so she had to skip it. “I didn't realize you liked Gwen enough to get jealous about this!”

  “I don't like her. And I ain't jealous!” Josiah snorted loudly. “But when you realize someone actually doesn't give a damn about you, it's always a shock.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel better, JC, I give lots of damns about you!” When Carol tried to ruffle his hair, he ducked her hand. “Okay... now be quiet and check this out. I'm actually pretty proud of this one.” Carol pulled a pencil from her bag and brought it close to the mechanical hand. As soon as the pencil was within range, the four metallic fingers curled around it, gripping it tightly.

  “Wow. That one didn't even need a voice command,” Josiah pointed out.

  “Yeah. It's pretty cutting edge, if I do say so myself. It's got sensors, so when an object gets close, the hand knows, and the fingers automatically close.” Carol's lips jutted into a duck-like pout. “But there might be a... a tiny downside.”

  “What's that?”

  As soon as the question was out of Josiah's mouth, the mechanical fingers snapped the pencil in half.

  “That,” Carol groaned. “That's the downside. The fingers don't know how much pressure to apply. It's still a work in progress, though, so with a few more tweaks, it should work a lot better.”

  “Well, it's pretty impressive so far.” After offending her with his previous opinions, Josiah was careful to remain positive. “I can tell you've been working really hard, CC.”

  Carol's pouting lips flipped into a smile when she heard him call her by a nickname. “Sooooo anyway...” Carol set the mechanical arm aside and reached into her trunk a fourth and final time. “I've saved the best for last. This one's my favorite. My favorite by far.”

  When he saw the mad glimmer in her eye, Josiah's stomach quaked. “Uh oh. Why do I have a feeling you're about to show me something crazy?”

  “Cuz I'm about to show you something crazy!” Carol shrilled, sounding ecstatic. “I hope you're ready for this! Aaaand... ta-da!”

  What she extracted from the trunk wasn't quite an arm, and it wasn't quite a gun. It was--

  “A gun arm?” Josiah said. “Is that what I'm looking at?”

  “You got it right, babydoll!” the eccentric engineer squealed. “Well? What do you think?”

  Josiah's breath was caught in his throat as he leaned closer to Carol's odd creation. The metal weapon had a huge barrel, a lever, and a few well-concealed switches. A bit like a rifle and a bit like a cannon, it was unlike anything Josiah had ever seen. After a short pause, he leaned back and quietly gave his opinion. “That's... interesting.”

  “Do you love it? Huh?” Carol excitedly jabbed his stomach with her finger. “You're a big fan of guns, so I really want you to love it!”

  “It's certainly... fascinating.” His predominant feeling was skepticism, which he had somehow managed to conceal, because Carol's smile never faded.

  “If we're gonna test this bad boy, we should probably go outside.” Carol tugged Josiah's empty sleeve as she hopped from the bed. “Come on come on come on come onnn! Let's go blow stuff up!”

  Two

  Flynn was knee
ling on the wooden floor, collared and chained, as he had been for the last few days. He tried so many times to release himself from the bonds that held him, his wrists and neck were rubbed raw from the attempts. Every time he moved an inch, the cold metal collar seared his tender neck.

  When the door opened, and one of the idiot bounty hunters sauntered into the room, Flynn squinted against the burst of light that flooded his cell. It took him a moment to determine it was Lloyd, not Floyd, which was a relief. Even though they looked the same, the former treated him much kinder than the latter.

  “Oi, Flynn!” Lloyd's greeting was oddly jovial. “And how are you doin' today?”

  “Same as ever,” Flynn answered flatly. “Tired. Restless. Sad. Always looking for a way to escape...”

  “Well, good luck with that. But you ain't gonna find a way out, especially when the boss gets here.”

  For the last three days, his captors continuously threatened the arrival of their “boss,” but the “boss” never showed. Flynn was starting to doubt his existence.

  Lloyd must have sensed his doubts, because he said, “And she'll be here soon, don't worry.”

  One of Flynn's eyebrows shot up. “She?”

  “Aye. Did we not mention our boss is a woman?”

  Flynn slowly shook his head. Had Lloyd mentioned it before, it would have been a detail worth remembering.

  “Both of our bosses is ladies, but we're waiting for the big boss,” Lloyd explained. “We're expecting her later today, in fact. Once she's here, we're taking you over to Busybee, where they're offering the biggest reward for you.”

  “How much am I worth these days?”

  “Four hundred dollars, to be split evenly between the four of us... me, Floyd and the bosses. You know, I told one of my mates I caught myself a Cole brother, and they didn't believe me. Apparently, you're a slippery one.”

  Flynn had nothing to add to that. Most of the time, he was ashamed of himself for getting captured in the first place. He was even more ashamed for failing to find a way out of his predicament. After three days, his brother would have found three ways out, but Flynn wasn't as clever. He needed Josiah.