Solace

by Raven Dark

  His mouth crushed mine. Heat and love unfurled in me, molten hot and intense. I tilted my head back for him, parting my lips for my master’s exploration. Steel gripped my hair and angled my head the way he wanted. Our tongues mated in a slow dance, and he moaned into my mouth, the sound like the soft rumble of thunder that went all the way to my toes.

  The voices of the men from both crews filtered through the blood pounding in my ears, and awareness that they could see what he was doing to me made my entire body flush with equal parts embarrassment and need.

  When he broke the kiss, I buried my face in his neck. The memories of all the horrors that had happened on the trip to Delta washed over me, but I pushed the emotions down, refusing to let myself get lost in them.

  Steel held me closer, wrapping me in the warmth of his arms. I had the feeling he knew the fear and grief and loss that was threatening to tear me apart. He put his chin on the top of my head.

  My mountain of a master didn’t seem to care that everyone around him, including the Brothers of Brimstone, could see him comforting his woman. In that moment, I fell deeper into love with him—and perhaps with my Four—than ever. With these four pirate men I never, ever wanted to lose.

  Light of the Maker, please don’t let Damien find me again. Please.

  Chapter 11

  Tan An’dar

  I hardly saw my masters at all over the next two days.

  At the Summit, Sheriff had said there would be a lot of negotiations about merging the Brimstone’s and Legion’s Chapters, and he was right. The men spent most of the two days after the party locked up in the clubhouse holding meetings with the Brothers of Brimstone.

  Steel or Pretty Boy came out during breaks and found me while I was doing chores with the women, taking me for lunch or for short walks. According to them, the men talked about all aspects of Legion or Grotto business, showing them the mining operation and the distribution of the Grotto’s gems, as well as various operations the Legion orchestrated helping cities and zones in need of protection.

  Steel clearly found the long discussions boring, often laying in the grass with me and relaxing for picnics, but I was surprised to find that Pretty Boy seemed to be in his element. He hardly seemed the business type, given to partying and joking around so much that I often forgot he was the Dark Legion’s treasurer. He loved the hours of discussion about money, budgets, orders, and inventory.

  Over those two days, when Hawk wasn’t in meetings with the other men, he routinely met with guardsmen who escorted the shipments to various sellers and buyers or met with the Grotto’s carefully selected third party go-betweens, those who helped the Legion maintain the Grotto’s anonymity.

  Neither he nor Sheriff showed themselves at all.

  Cherry still hadn’t made an appearance since I’d seen her in the garage the day we’d returned from Delta. I tried to limit asking about her as much as I could, but I was getting worried about her, especially when, on the afternoon of our third day back—which was also the day of the funeral—Dice called on me to speak to her. It wasn’t like the Head of Slaves to isolate herself like this, particularly from her grandfather.

  Dropping off Dice’s laundry and leaving his cave, dread unfurled in my belly. I had to talk to her eventually. She needed to know.

  I clambered down the ladder to the green with Tanya, one of the other slave women. We walked back to the slave quarters, taking off our backpacks and setting them on the shelves with the baskets.

  “Setora, the girls and I are going to go for a swim.” She wiped her brow, beaded with sweat from the hot sun. “You wanna come?”

  “I can’t. I have to talk to Cherry. You go ahead, though.”

  Tanya shook her head. “She won’t see you. She won’t let anyone into her room or come out to eat.”

  I wiped my sweaty palms on the front of my white slave’s frock. “I know, but I have to try. I promised Dice.”

  When Tanya left with Gretle and a few of the others, I drew a deep breath. Cherry was my best friend. I reminded myself not to push too hard, that if she needed time, I had to give it to her. Still, I needed to make sure she was okay.

  At the entrance to Cherry’s room, I licked my lips and knocked on the door.

  “Cherry? Cherry, are you in there?”

  She didn’t answer, but I could hear someone moving around inside the room.

  “Cherry? Can I come in?”

  “Go away, Violet.”

  Violet. She always called me that. I closed my eyes. Light, I missed her.

  “Cherry, talk to me. I need to know you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine. I don’t want to talk to anyone.”

  I heard a sniffle.

  Guilt ate at me. Did she blame me? But I couldn’t push if she wasn’t ready. Not yet.

  “I understand, but you have to eat. Dice said you haven’t been eating. Let me bring you something.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  I sighed. She’d always been so stubborn. Now what? Was it too soon to talk to Sheriff? No, I couldn’t do that. She didn’t need that much tough talk. We weren’t there. Yet.

  “Dice misses you. He’s worried about you.”

  I heard her bed creak. “Is he okay? Does he need anything?”

  “He’s fine. He’s just worried.”

  “He does that. Tell him I’m fine.”

  “Cherry, the…um.” My chest heaved. “Cherry the funeral is today.”

  There was a long pause.

  “I’m not going.” She said it so softly I barely heard her.

  “Cherry.” I sighed again. “Don’t…don’t you want to see Crash one last time? Say goodbye?” My eyes stung.

  “Setora, go away!”

  Light, the way her voice cracked filled with so much pain, I wished I could make it go away, take away all her grief. I nearly left then, except I couldn’t. Instead, I made my voice harder.

  “Cherry, you have to come. It’s mandatory. Sheriff’s orders.”

  The door jerked open.

  My heart dropped. She looked awful. Her cloud of hair was an unkempt mess, her face drawn and pale. Red rimmed her bloodshot eyes, swollen from crying. Her cheeks were hollow, and her white frock hung off her curvy frame, as if she’d lost a little weight.

  Cherry looked like she wanted to tell me, and probably Sheriff, to go to hell, but instead…

  “When?” Her voice wavered.

  “What?”

  “When is the funeral?” She wiped her eyes.

  “Er…this afternoon. Not for a couple of hours. I—”

  “Cherry?” Gretle stuck her head in beside me. “T-Man’s here to see you.”

  T-Man? When had he and Beast returned? They must have just come back.

  At Gretle’s words, Cherry’s rusty brows shot up and all the color left her face. She folded her arms around middle and shuffled her feet as if she suddenly didn’t know what to do with herself.

  T-Man’s effect on her had always baffled me. The mention of him alone was usually enough to turn the normally tough Head of the Slaves into a nervous wreck.

  “Want me to tell him to go away?” Gretle asked.

  If the situation hadn’t been so serious, I might have laughed. Gretle was the only woman who had no issue standing up to any man in the Grotto, even when everyone else had to remember her place. They grumbled at her, but they usually didn’t push back. Normally Cherry could be the same way. Just not with T-Man.

  “No.” Cherry heaved a sigh and stepped out, shutting the door. “Where is he?”

  Gretle nodded to the entrance to the slave quarters. “Outside, waiting.”

  She squared her shoulders, then looked at me.

  “Come with me, Setora.” It wasn’t a request. She grabbed my hand, keeping oddly close to me all the way down the hall to the entrance.

  “Cherry, what is it with you and—”

  “Just shut up and stay with me, okay?” she said out of the corner of her mouth. T-Man’s shadow darkened t
he entrance to the cave. “Don’t leave me.”

  When we reached the entrance, T-Man opened his mouth to say something. Then his eyes focused on me and his brows knitted together. He didn’t say anything, merely waving at Cherry to follow him out onto the green.

  “We need to talk, Cherry.”

  Her throat worked. She followed him, but not without looking behind her to make sure I was still there.

  The woman looked like a deer caught in torchlight. What was wrong with her?

  Outside, she patted her hair, trying to smooth the wayward mess of curls. “What do you need, sir?”

  Her eyes focused on anything but him, remaining downcast. I didn’t think her lowered gaze was only out of expected subservience, since Cherry rarely bothered with formality.

  “Setora, you can go now.” T-Man gestured to a picnic table someone had put near the mouth of the cave. “Have a seat, Cherry.”

  His voice was almost tight and sounded awkward.

  Cherry glanced at me, her face losing color again. She gave the slightest shake of her head. Begging me not to leave.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, sir. Cherry wants me here.” I waved my hand dismissively, going for casualness. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

  T-man stared at me for a moment. “Whatever,” he said with a growl of annoyance. He went over to the table and sat down, running his hands through his thick, shoulder-length blond curls.

  “Have a seat.” He nodded to the table, speaking to Cherry.

  “I’ll stand, sir.”

  He dropped his hand on the table and stood up. I’d never seen him so agitated. “Look, there’s something I have to give you.”

  The sudden softness of his voice took me aback. Cherry blinked at him, meeting his eyes for the first time.

  T-Man reached into his cut and pulled out the ring Cherry had given Crash, still hanging off its silver chain. The ruby embedded in it shone in the bright sunlight.

  I swallowed. Cherry had given that ring to Crash before we’d left for Delta, something to remind him of her. It had initially been a gift Crash had given her a week before.

  Cherry looked at the ring, and her shoulders fell, her face crumbling. Her lip trembled. Then she sniffed hard and shook herself almost violently. She made no move to take the ring.

  “Crash wanted you to have it. I’ve been holding it for you. Take it.”

  She lifted her hand, but then dropped it without reaching out. Her eyes were glued to the small piece of silver as if touching it would scald her.

  Watching her struggle tore at my heart.

  “I’ll take it for her, T-Man. I—”

  “No, Setora.” His voice was firm, unyielding, enough to make me blink. “Cherry has to do this.” He thrust the ring out toward her.

  Cherry didn’t move. Silent tears slid down her too-pale cheeks.

  T-Man’s fingers scraped his chiseled jaw. “Crash would have wanted you to have this. He was a good man. He died for his club. Take the damn thing.”

  Cherry’s jaw clenched. “Fine.” Her hand snaked out to snatch the ring from him. For an instant, their fingers brushed. Cherry’s eyes went wide, and she took the ring, but jerked her hand back from his as if his fingers had burned her.

  Without looking at the ring, she put her hands behind her back. “Is there something else, sir?”

  Abrupt, almost cold, her tone held only the barest hint of obligatory respect.

  T-Man put his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. When his hand dropped, his eyes took her in.

  “You look like shit, by the way.” The words sounded like they were jerked out of him.

  Cherry’s back stiffened. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. You look like hell. When was the last time you ate?”

  She kept her eyes on him, but I had the feeling it took a great deal of effort. Her chin jutted stubbornly. “I don’t see how my eating habits are any of your business. You aren’t my—”

  “Answer me. How long since you’ve eaten anything?”

  “I—”

  He shook his head and reached for her hand. Cherry tensed.

  “Enough of this. Come with me. You need to eat something.”

  “T-Man—” I started.

  Cherry stepped back from him. “I don’t want to eat, sir. Just—”

  He cut both of us off. “Stay out of this, Setora. Cherry…” He sighed, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. “What about the funeral?”

  Cherry looked away. “I don’t know. I’m not…I don’t…” She shook her head, looking lost.

  “You don’t have a choice in this. Let Setora take you, and Dice. Dice will want you with him. Besides, Sheriff expects you to be there.”

  “I don’t care what Sheriff wants.”

  T-Man’s jaw hardened until it could have cut glass. “Listen, Sheriff has your best interest at heart. You might not think so, but you need the support right now. Rely on your club. Lean on us.” He paused, and his voice softened again. “And you may regret not saying goodbye once the chance is gone.”

  Cherry looked away, her jaw trembling, though the rest of her face was hard.

  “All right. That’s it. Cherry, if you won’t go with your grandfather or Setora, then you’ll come with me, but you’re going.” He stabbed the air with his finger on every word.

  Cherry’s eyes were huge as she met his glare, her hands shaking at her sides.

  “If you won’t come on your own, I’ll put you over my damn shoulder and carry you there.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, yes, I would.”

  Cherry crossed her arms. She didn’t move, but the tension in her frame said she was using all her energy not to bolt. Electricity sparked between them, so intense I was surprised I didn’t see it crackling in the air.

  What in the Maker’s name was going on here?

  T-Man moved toward her.

  Before I considered my actions, I stepped between them. Next thing I knew, my hand was on Cherry’s shoulder.

  T-Man’s eyes narrowed and flicked down to his arm. I followed his gaze; my hand rested on his forearm, while my other was still on Cherry’s shoulder. I loosened my hold on T-Man but didn’t back down.

  “Sir, I’ll make sure she’s there. I promise. I’ll take care of her.”

  Half of me wondered if T-Man might barrel right past me for her, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave a stiff nod.

  “See that you do. Otherwise, I’ll be back for her.”

  He stomped off without another word.

  I let out a breath, feeling as if the air that had previously been sucked out of the world had suddenly been blown back in.

  When I turned to Cherry, she was already stomping off toward the cave. I followed her.

  When we reached her room, she marched inside, her thick red curls bouncing on her shoulders with every step. She went to the bed, picked up a fluffy red pillow and tossed it at the wall.

  “Cherry, are you all right?”

  Saying nothing, she tore the rumpled blankets from her bed and then ripped off the sheets, pulling so hard they tore.

  “Cherry, here, let me—”

  She rounded on me, her heart-shaped face livid. “He was waiting for something like this to happen!”

  “Who?”

  “T-Man! He wanted this.”

  I stared. “What?”

  She shook her head and crumpled the bed sheets in her arms, balling them up.

  Buying myself time, waiting for her to elaborate, I bent and picked up the ring she’d dropped. It dangled off its chain, which felt baby-fine between my fingers.

  “Cherry, that’s not true.”

  “Yes, it is. He probably killed him himself!”

  My mouth dropped. “Cherry!” I snapped. “Come on. You’re better than that. You know he couldn’t be like that.”

  Grief did things to a person, I knew that, but it was making her crazy.

  “If you think he isn’t, you don�
��t know him.”

  “What in this world would make you think he is?”

  She gave a harsh laugh. “T-Man has had a thing for me for years, Setora. He’s been waiting for his chance. Snake in the grass!”

  I looked at the stone ceiling of the cave. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  She glared at me. “What the hell do you know?”

  I drew a long, patient breath. “I just spent two weeks with the man. You’re right, he does have feelings for you. I can see it. But I also saw how he reacted when Crash died.”

  She flounced on the bed, wiping her eyes. I slowly lowered myself down beside her, settling when she didn’t shoo me off. Emotions flashed across her face, nameless ones that seemed at war with one another.

  “He was angry when Crash died,” I told her. “Really angry.”

  She blinked at me, her watery eyes looking disbelieving.

  “Look, Cherry, I don’t know what’s going on with you two. But I do know T-Man is a good man. And I know he isn’t responsible for Crash’s death.”

  She let out a derisive sound, as though I’d told her the sun wasn’t hot.

  I turned to face her on the bed and gently laid my hands on her shoulders, waiting until she looked at me.

  “Listen, even if you don’t believe T-Man is a good man, you can’t blame him for what happened. You can’t.”

  “Then who do I blame?” She sniffed. “Huh? Who, Setora. Tell me. I want to know.”

  I gulped and drew a deep, deep breath.

  “Me.”

  Her eyes went huge, and she shot off the bed, then shook her head at me. “Don’t be ridiculous, Setora.”

  “I’m not.” I looked at my knees. “It’s my fault he died.”

  “Stop it. I know some Violets can be cruel, even deadly. But not you. Never you.”

  “No. You’re right, I didn’t put the knife through his chest. But if not for me, he’d still be alive.”

  “So—someone stabbed him?”

  I nodded.

  “Who? Why?”

  Again, I looked at the ceiling. “Cherry, you’d better sit down.”

  She lowered herself onto the bed slowly.

  I licked my lips again. “Damien stabbed him. Crash was fighting him, and Damien stabbed him in the chest. Doc tried to save him, but…”