Chapter 1

Ara saw them pull up, the dusty kickback from the bikes blew up in the air dramatically on the dirt path leading up to the trailer, making them nearly impossible to miss.  She pulled on her boots that rested near her bare feet, standing to stretch as she fluffed up the mass of brown hair to make it seem presentable.  It had been so long since both of her brothers had been home, and coming back together hadn’t happened in a very long time.  It must have been before they were sent to prison, after they got out and took on their new jobs, Ara throught to herself.  While they were working, they leap frogged stopping at home to check on her.  This last job had them gone for three years, with little more than a postcard or a phone call to break up the time.  Then came the letter from Amos that they were coming home for a little, and now here she was, stuck outside drinking and playing until her hands were so exhausted they quit shaking.

  Her brain had barely registered that she was still holding her guitar as she stood waiting for them to reach where she was.  She kept holding it as they approached, the pick pressed painfully into her middle finger, pinching it against one of the strings to the point it started bleeding.  Ara leaned it against her plastic lawn chair, throwing the pick down and sucking on her finger with a sneer.

Bray dismounted his bike, trying to school his features when he finally caught sight of Araceli.  The sister he knew before he left was gone, it had been clear last time, but now it seemed more profound.  She was now replaced by a woman who looked almost exactly like their mother, except for her eyes.  They weren't looking kindly upon him, although not unkindly, but it was in an appraising way that unnerved him. 

Amos and he shared a knowing glance, born from years of having to talk with one another without using words.  They had come home for the first time in five years.  One look at their faces and Ara could tell something was different about them, about why they had come back.

Those dove gray eyes, her distinctive Wheeler eyes, glinted with something intangible in the sun as she rested them on her brother's faces.  They were as beautiful as they were unreadable, stony and steady as two concrete orbs.  It was surreal for Amos to see his father's eyes, peering out from behind his mother's face. 

"Hey Ara," Emmett said, approaching her carefully and kissing her cheek, her booted foot rested on a cinder block she used to hold her beers while she played.  It was still littered with half dry rings and broken picks, and Emmett had the sudden image of the time when he gave it to her, teaching her to play blackbird with her tiny fingertips.  He had been the boys’ best friend growing up, and something of an adopted son to Clint, who took him in when his own parents were killed.  To Araceli, he was her shelter in the storm.  Ara didn't say anything back to Emmett, she just tilted her chin in greeting to the other riders that were coming in.

"Welcome back," she said flatly to her brother Bray, and she could see that Amos had tilted his own head in greeting as he drove his bike in to park.  There was no tearful embrace, no running leap into her brother's arms, it was the way it always had been with them, close but distant in almost every way. 

Amos was the last to dismount, his eyes never leaving hers as he came to a stop near Bray.  She had almost forgotten how similar they looked, but the time had changed Bray differently than his brother.  Amos was oldest, but an outsider wouldn't be able to tell anymore, Bray's face now bore the signs of stress and laughter in equal parts.  They fanned from his eyes and forehead like spiderwebs.

  There was a strange machine like noise, but the house phone in the trailer hadn't worked when she tried it that morning so Ara knew it had to be coming from a cell.  It was surprising enough that it got reception out here, almost no phones got any kind of signal in this part of the country.  Those that most of them could afford only operated within the nearest city limits.

"How far out are you?" Amos asked into the phone, checking the time on his watch with a frown.  Hayes was supposed to be here, riding in with them, but he had problems at the dealership with his new identity and now wasn't going to get here for another hour.  Ara didn't seem to have noticed they were waiting for someone, but it wouldn't take long before she figured it out.  He suspected his sister knew it already, even as a girl she always saw too much, her steely eyes always scanning the world around her.

"I'll be there in forty, forty five if traffic holds up and I can move.  I haven't gotten on a bike in a while, I'm going to look like a f*****g cowboy when I get off her," Hayes told his friend, a soft and small chuckle escaping through the phone. 

He hung up after that, afraid he would embarrass himself if he kept blabbering on a like a nervous prom date.  This was the first time the bureau had given him his own team, his own assignment, and he wanted it to go smoothly without the whole world knowing how f*****g frightened he was to fail.

Amos clipped closed the phone and shoved it in his back pocket, looking back to Ara with his usual controlled expression.  Bray was just lighting a cigarette, looking around at the landscape casually, and chatting with Amos about something she couldn't hear.  Ara knew it was only an act, both of their shoulders were set tight, and despite the open trailer behind her, no one made a move to go inside yet.  Her brothers loved this land, it was one of the few things that she never considered selling when money ran tight.  Now she felt a strange satisfaction at seeing her decision affect them so, she knew they wanted to be out here in the open air together, as they did when they were children.

Some of the guys made a move to sit at the picnic table, and she took it as a sign to go in and get the beer she had stocked for the occasion.  Bray sat down noisily on the bench, his head hung, stretching it from one side to another as if it would break up the tension.  Amos was sitting next to him, pocketknife flicked open as he cleared his boots of rocks from the ride in.  His brother was forever cursing the gravel drive that led to his sister's trailer, and the small house that they all used to live in.  The same house that now lay empty, waiting for its former occupant like an obident dog.

"I'm not mowing it," Amos told his brother with a sarcastic smile when he felt Bray checking out the house they grew up in.  Bray was practically cringing at the state of the lawn and plants, their overgrown branches bending and swaying in the wind like they were mocking him.  The constant bickering about who would do yard work ran every year between the two without fail.  Usually Ara gave up and did it herself, as she did with many other things that they didn't want to deal with, but she let the grass go this time.

Ara came out the front steps of her trailer, struggling with the drinks she was carrying out.   The old trailer was holding up well, Amos thought, having been added in shortly after their father had been put away.  She took his absence the hardest out of the three, Ara was always a daddy's girl, not that she had much choice with their mother being gone.  It was harder still when she realized her brothers were going away too.  She was left in the care of a mother that was never around, and her father's biker club that tried to look out for her when they could.  Once Clint started talking in prison, the bikers stopped coming around.

The little trailer had become Ara's own place the year her father went to lockup, she wanted the peace and isolation that being alone brought after he was gone, though looking back now she would tell you it wasn't a smart idea to give some her age her own space.  Ara was just fifteen at the time.

 The two twelve packs were heavier than she anticipated, and because of that she had to use two hands, the screen door slamming loudly behind her as she made her way carefully out to the table.  There was a citronella candle under her arm, and it made Bray smile at her, triggering in him the memory of a time when he used to tease her about her sweet blood.  She was constantly bitten by mosquitos no matter where she went, a trait that came from their mother.  It was the only thing that linked the two women, and outside of that Bray would often wonder if his father had stolen her as a baby from some other mother.

"Does mom know we were coming back?" Bray asked his sister.  It wasn't something he really though he would ask, but the question had been rolling around in his head so long it just came out.  Ara stilled, and he had the sense that there was something he was missing out on.  It was near impossible to read his sister sometimes, and the time since they spent apart had only left it harder to gauge what she was thinking.

"She's off the grid, went up to Washington State with her new beau.  I haven't heard from her since last Christmas."  Ara left it at that, though she suspected Bray could sense there was more going on.  There always was with April, and whatever she was getting into usually blew back on her kids. 

Amos looked from his brother to his sister and tried to hide the wistful expression he could feel trying to break its way onto his face.  He hadn't seen all three of them together since before they left for their last assignment, and even then Ara hadn't come out to say goodbye.

"You didn't say anything when I called, is she in trouble again?" Amos asked, feeling the weight of the wretched woman like a burden every time someone brought her up.  She had proven to be more of an embarrassment than either he or Bray had anticipated, April Wheeler had tried to invoke their names on more than one arrest.

"I don't think so, she hasn't contacted me in a while, but the phone can be tempermental."  Ara knew they would understand, their mother only really called when she needed to be bailed out, or when she needed money.  In truth, she would admit she was unconcerned with April anymore, the ship had sailed on the sympathy boat for Ara when it came to her long ago.

"How long as the phone been going out on you?" Amos asked, feeling concerned his sister was out here so unprotected.  It was easy getting caught up in his job, time seemed to pass differently when he was on assignment, and this was a place that he avoided over thinking too much.  For the brothers, it was as if there was an invisible line that ran through the land out here, separating who they were then, from who they were trying to be now. It was a reminder of the struggle neither Amos nor Bray was sure they were winning.

"Its fine," Ara said tersely back to them, not liking the direction of the conversation.  Ara had her own line out here, but it ran though her father and her brothers, keeping separate the life she dreamed before, and the life she was forced to accept now.

"I got through on your birthday, that wasn't more than two months ago.  They must be working on the lines near the reservation, “Bray said in defense, seeing how acutely his sister had suffered from the job they were forced to take.  It was sense of guilt both brothers bore, haunting them when they least expected it.  She was farther withdrawn that usual, and even now Bray had barely seen her smile.

"They haven't been, not that I've seen.  Sometimes I think the state wants to forget about them out there."  Ara was shaking her head, thinking of the last time she had an issue with the school board and had to go into the capitol to speak with some government bureaucrats.  They made it clear then that it wasn't going to be a priority for them.  The table went silent, and it was only when he heard the raspy bark of Ara's dog that Bray was reminded of how alone she was out here. 

"He sounds like he's dying," Emmett said wryly to Ara, who responded to him by flicking him off.  It was an easy friendship, even if he was closer to her brothers, there was something about her that Emmett was unable to resist.  Ara was always drawn to Emmett, something in him that was as close to when Clint was with her.  It was the same strong stubbornness, a similar hard knuckled approach to attacking life that she had wanted to remember.  But the job had taken all of them from her, leaving Ara alone.  Her youth told her that was something to treasure, and like many notions she had when she was younger time had proven it all wrong.

"Memphis is old, something I'm sure you can identify with," Ara told him back, downing a beer and flipping the top on another.  She had given Emmett her sweet smile, and it would have only been missed by the blind the way Amos and Bray stood watching her.  It was as if that one simple gesture would fix everything they needed fixed, if they only could stare at her smile long enough. 

Ara felt the eyes on her and dropped her stare, leaning back on the chair and resting her hands behind her head, interlaced fingers showing off Clint's ring whose ruby was almost blinding in the noon sun.  Her normal fixed mask was firmly in place again, but she had to move her hands behind her head to keep them steady.  It was as if her body could feel the storm that was coming, a quiet calm that preceded the tumultuous winds.

The barking reached a point that it was clear something was going on behind the main house, and it was Ara who jumped up quickly to quiet the beast, feeling grateful she didn't have to keep sitting there any longer.  Amos, watching her retreating form frowned, checking his phone again to see if Hayes had updated him with anything.  He knew that finding the way out here could be tricky, and he was anxious to get that part of the visit done with.  Bray was checking over his shoulder as well, trying to be discreet and failing miserably.

"How you got that case in Seattle I'll never know, you are horrible at hiding what’s wrong," Amos said shaking his head, and while he was joking there was something of the truth in his statement.  Bray was exceptionally good at his job, and it sometimes grated Amos.  Being the more level headed and oldest of the Wheeler children he expected to gain most of the praise.  Apparently though, Bray was the one who thrived in the FBI, post their two years in prison.  Bray would deny it, such as he always did, throwing the credit towards his brother, but Bray had earned the respect he held.

There was the familiar sounds of Ara yelling at the old collie, but Bray knew it was all for show.  She was always a softie for that dog, and even now, he could hear her mixing in endearments into her scolding.  Amos rolled his eyes as well, both brothers thinking that perhaps Araceli wasn't as cold as she always presented herself to be.  Ara could deny it all she wanted, Amos thought to himself, but she could burn as bright as anyone he knew.

It was then he heard the familiar rumble of a bike engine, and as Bray turned to confirm it was Hayes, both brothers’ faces got significantly tighter.  There were strange noises coming from behind the house, and it was clear to him that his sister was battling with Memphis and whatever animal he had trapped.  Clint had used him as a hunting dog, and as such the dog had a particular affinity for killing small game, only to drag their bleeding corpses towards Ara alone.

"You didn't tell her who was coming out did you?" Emmett said, finally piecing together why Amos and Bray were strung so tight.  Amos shook his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing for a moment before he spoke.

"This isn't news you tell someone long distance, it has to be personal, and I told Hayes before we accepted this that he would have to come out and explain himself, to her face."  Emmett let out a deep sounding laugh, with a low whistle following close behind that.  As if on cue both of the brothers grimaced, there hopefully eyes turning resigning dark.

“Clint taught her to shoot, so I hope he’s a real smooth talker,” he said to Amos, clapping him on the shoulder in a conciliatory motion.  Emmett though it would be amusing, if not uncomfortable to be watching that particular exchange, but Bray thought it would go better with Emmett here, so he went along with it for Ara’s sake.

The rumbling got louder and then cut off altogether, and Hayes came to an abrupt and somewhat ungraceful stop near where they were sitting.  He scowled under his helmet when his foot landed unsteadily on the gravel path where he parked the bike.  After a second of strong arming the bike into submission, he peeled off his helmet and shook out his longer blond hair.  It was sticking to his temples and the back of his neck, the itching alone made him consider a haircut.

“You have to get rid of that gravel, it’s just cruel,” Hayes said laughing, his eyes already glued to the beers on table.  Bray stood up and greeting his friend, and Amos did as his brother, the looks of genuine happiness to see one another etched gruffly on their faces.  Per usual Emmett stayed where he was, a simple nod from him was all Hayes was going to get.

“I know, but to pave most of it would cost a fortune, so until then you just have to not ride like a twelve year old girl.  Come on Hayes get it together,” Amos said, gently slapping the other man’s face like a grandparent. 

Bray smiled at the two of them, but it was hard not to notice the way Emmett was holding himself during the exchange.  There wasn’t the bond between Hayes and Emmett the same way there was with the brothers, and no one was about to discuss it, so it became just part of their group, like a fifth person that no one addressed had come to the party.

“So where is she?” Hayes asked, wondering where this infamous sister was.

“She’s right here a*****e,” Ara said, coming up from behind him with the barrel of the shotgun resting just in between his shoulder blades.  As if they were all turned to stone, the rest of the table went deadly still.  Ara had the sense they knew this person, but so did she, and it was the exact reason she was aiming for him.