Losing It All

by Wilde, Kati

  My chest aches for her so fucking bad. “It’s all right, angel.”

  “We know his name,” Creek tells her gently. “Was he from Papa’s stable?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Did you ever hear anything about the other stable owners?”

  She shakes her head again, wiping her cheeks with a tissue.

  “Okay.” He lays out another set of four. “How about these?”

  I can answer one for her. A fighter who was still alive, at least after the last bout in the Cage, in another stable. The one who killed Flack, though I don’t say that. Then she identifies two more who were beaten to death in front of her. Then another set. Remembering their names, remembering when—even the ones who weren’t in Papa’s stables. And with each one, she looks more and more vulnerable, more haunted.

  Creek begins laying out another set and her fingers clench hard on mine.

  Fuck. “Do you need to do them all now? Can’t you give her a fucking break?”

  “It’s okay,” she whispers tremulously. “It’s okay. That one is Pushcart. I don’t know two of the others, but, um…” She lets go of my hand, her fingers trembling wildly as she reaches out to touch the final picture. “This one is still alive. In a clinic. Because his arm was broken.”

  Ah, fuck. Hatchet. I didn’t recognize him in this photo, where he’s looking like a Boy Scout fresh out of a seminary class. But she still thinks he was sent out for surgery after he saved her from Tusk. Now her face is full of so much hope, because after all of these pictures of dead men, here is one she believes she might save.

  Fucking hell. Fucking hell.

  Across from us, Creek is utterly still. “That one? You’re sure?”

  She nods, picking up the picture in her shaking hands. “In the doc’s private clinic. And I don’t know what the doc’s name is, but if we can look up photos of licensed physicians or—”

  “No, angel.” As gently as I can, I stop her. “He’s not in the clinic.”

  “Yes, he is. The doc said that—”

  “The doc lied. And I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “What do you mean, he lied?” Her voice rises on a sharp note, her chest hitching wildly. “He told Victor to take him to the clinic. And Victor told him to go quietly. Because if Hatchet didn’t…if he didn’t… He would go quietly. He wouldn’t give them trouble.”

  “Why do you say he lied?” Creek asks, though he sounds like he doesn’t want to know. He’s slumped back in his chair, eyes on me. “What did you see?”

  “Victor walked him out behind the barns—”

  My girl makes a sound like I gutted her with a knife. Shaking hands covering her mouth, she implores me, “Because they were walking to a vehicle? Please. Please.”

  Throat clogged, I shake my head and watch her shatter right in front of me, those emerald eyes turning to dull glass and breaking into glittering tears, face crumpling as she dissolves into heart-wrenching sobs. Utterly destroyed, I wrap my arms around her.

  “I’m so fucking sorry, angel. I know he helped you. But this isn’t your—”

  “Puh…please. Please,” she begs against my throat, her tears burning my skin. “You have to be wrong. You have to be.”

  “Did you see it?” Creek asks dully.

  “Saw him on his knees.” I hold her tighter with every quiet word. “Then heard it. A single shot.”

  My girl flinches at shot, the wild sobs breaking into gulping heaves of her chest. “No no no. Not Matt. Oh god, oh god no, please, not him.”

  “Ah fuck,” Creek suddenly breathes, sitting upright. “You’re the sister.”

  She chokes. Then bolts out of my arms, bumping into the table and sending the pictures flying as she races for the bathroom. I lurch after her. The door slams in my face but the sounds of violent retching make real clear what’s happening on the other side.

  Hands braced on the doorframe, I look over to Creek, who’s rubbing his hands down his face. “What sister?” I ask hoarsely. “Who the fuck is Matt?”

  “Hatchet,” he says, a muscle in his jaw working. “He was one of mine. And we knew his sister had vanished around the same time, but her co-workers said she’d come into some money, and that she was either going back to college or traveling. We’d hoped it was just traveling.”

  Fuck. Stomach twisting hard, I open the door. Her head’s hanging over the bowl, so I wet a washcloth before hunkering down beside her, holding back her hair. She’s mostly just crying now, and when she gags again nothing comes up.

  “Hey.” Tenderly I wipe her face, her mouth. “I’m so sorry, angel. Hatchet’s your brother, then—his name is Matt?”

  She nods, tears coursing down her face. Rocking back, she crumples into the corner of the room, wedged up between the tub and the wall. I follow her down and give her a warm body to lean against instead of a cold tub. When I get my arm around her, she turns her face against my shoulder, still sobbing those heart-wrenching sobs.

  Each one wrenching at my heart, too. Protecting her brother all this damn time, likely knowing that undercover agents with their covers blown have a real short life expectancy. Only to get here and learn this.

  I don’t know how long she cries with me holding her. Another wish of mine granted. To stay with her a little longer.

  Didn’t know it would cost her so fucking much.

  Eventually she goes quiet. Just shaking against me with her chest hitching on every breath. I hold her, waiting for her to talk—or not. Words or silence, whatever she needs, that’s what I’ll give.

  After a little while, it’s words. Hers are thick and dull. “Every horrible thing I did. Everything I would have done. Just trying to keep us alive long enough to get out of there. It was all for nothing.”

  I don’t know if she’s talking about playing bait and don’t care. None of it was for nothing. “You’re wrong there, angel. Because I can tell you right now that your brother didn’t give a fuck about anything except getting you out. So all that you did, every step that got you to where you’re sitting here now, safe from Papa and still breathing? That would mean everything to him.”

  That starts her tears up again. But I know I’m right. Anyone who loved this girl wouldn’t care if he got out alive. As long as she was safe.

  “He knew,” she sobs quietly. “He knew what they were going to do. I didn’t realize then but he told me not to wait for him to come back. But why didn’t I realize? I could have…I could have done something.”

  There wasn’t anything she could have done. Matt would have known that. Likely she knows it, too.

  But that’s cold comfort. “I’m sorry, angel.”

  “And instead of seeing what was right in front of me, I came up with another fucking stupid plan. Don’t tell you anything that might send your club to that clinic, just get to his boss so we can mount a rescue. But it was just absolute shit. From the very start.”

  “Nah, girl. You did everything right. And you had the very best reason for staying quiet and fighting until you got here. You were so fucking loyal. You’d have made any brother proud.”

  “Whatever that’s worth.”

  “That’s worth everything.”

  “Then I don’t have anything now.” With a ragged sob, she presses her face into her hands. “Nothing at all.”

  Fuck. Throat raw, I hold her tight. Because I know exactly what’s in her now. A big fucking hole.

  As soon as she quiets again, I catch her tearstained cheeks in my hands, meet her shattered gaze. “You do have something, angel. You’ve got three months of information in your head. And with that, you’ll help these feds nail those fuckers to the wall. Papa, the doc, Victor. Every single one of them. Pretty soon, you’ll be looking across a courtroom at them, and making them pay for what they did to you. For what they did to Matt. Yeah?”

  Though her lips are trembling, her face firms up and she nods. “Yeah.”

  “Your brother’s the one who told you to remember all that stuff, isn’t he?�
� Probably why she sounded like a cop reciting it. “So that everything you saw, you could tell the feds later. When you got out, he intended for you to burn the whole thing down. That right?”

  A spark flares to life behind her eyes. “He did.”

  “Then that’s what you have. I know you’re hurting real bad, but you hold onto that. You’re going to take these fuckers down. Say to me you will.”

  Her chin lifts. “I will.”

  “That’s my girl.” Softly I kiss those trembling lips, then pull back to brush her tears from her cheeks. “Do you have any other family? Anyone they can bring in and—”

  Those eyes fill with tears again, but don’t shatter. “No other family,” she whispers thickly. “I’m alone now.”

  “Nah. You’ve got an entire law enforcement agency about to bend over backwards for you. And you’ve got me. You keep that tag handy. And any fucking thing, you understand? Anything. I’ll be there. You’re not alone. I’ll get another burner and send the number to that phone I gave you. Then you can text or call me any time and no one will be able to trace it. Okay?”

  She takes a deep, shuddering breath before nodding. Steadying herself. “Okay.”

  This fucking girl. And my chest hurts so goddamn bad. But it’s not rot anymore.

  “C’mon, then. Let’s get you off this floor.”

  I take her hand, but she shakes her head. “Thank you. But… I’m not ready to go out there and talk more yet.”

  “I’ll tell Creek to keep his mouth shut.”

  “No. It’s okay. I just need to…stop crying first.”

  “Might take a while.”

  “Yeah, well. I don’t have any other plans for tonight.” A watery smile curves her lips. “Mine fell apart.”

  Rescuing her brother. “I guess they did.”

  “But you should go,” she says softly.

  And leave her here. Throat feeling like it’s shredded, I cup her face. “Is that what you want?”

  “You’ve helped me so much.” She swallows hard. “But I can’t ask you to be my shoulder to cry on all night.”

  “Yeah, you can.”

  She laughs as if I were joking before her mouth presses tight, her chin wobbling, her shimmering eyes searching my face.

  “Thank you,” she whispers, and I know a good-bye when I hear one. “But I just need to sit and figure out what to do now.”

  Yeah. Me, too.

  It ain’t rot in my chest now. But still hurts so fucking much as I nod and get to my feet. I’m at the bathroom door when she stops me.

  “Stone.” She’s got her arms wrapped around herself, still all huddled up on the floor. “Are you still going after Papa, too?”

  “Yeah,” I say quietly. It’s the only way she’ll ever truly be safe from him. “Unless you want to get him first. I’ll wait my turn.”

  She shakes her head, her eyes going distant. “But…let me know if you do?”

  “Yeah. I’ll do that.”

  “Thank you.”

  I can’t bear to hear that even one more time. I force my feet to move. Creek’s standing in the room, phone to his ear, face grim.

  “—push the sweep back farther. Our man’s in the dirt out there and I want him out, right fucking now.” He tosses the phone to the bed and looks over to me. “She all right?”

  “What the fuck do you think?” I grab my jacket. “She’ll help you take down Papa. And if he ever gets to her, if he gets even a whiff of her existence, I will fucking end you.”

  He accepts that with a nod.

  “And that deal with Blowback about the heads-up…I don’t want Papa any more. If I get him first, I get him.” Otherwise she can have first crack. “The heads-up I want now is Victor.”

  The fucker who pulled the trigger on her brother and is the reason she’s crying now.

  “All right,” he agrees. “That suits me better, anyway.”

  I don’t give a fuck what suits him. All that matters is that my girl is huddled up on the floor of a bathroom, hurting so bad. And that she told me I should go, and I’ll give her anything she wants.

  The cold air outside burns my eyes, my throat. Makes it hard to breathe. But this is the only thing to do. She had one real good reason to walk through that door. But for me, going through that door would mean cutting ties with my family and the club. I’ve got a million reasons to stay out—and only one reason to go in.

  And I don’t even know her name. But she’s all that’s inside me. Because there’s no hole in my chest now.

  There’s just her.

  I reach my bike, and my eyes aren’t burning. Breathing is easier. Because the way ahead is clear. So many reasons to stay out.

  But one real, real good reason to turn around and walk back through that door. And that one reason to go in is more important than a million others.

  I turn back.

  Up ahead, the door to the last room flings open. “Stone!”

  My girl comes running out, clutching her pack and jacket, frantically looking in my direction. When she sees me, relief pours over her face before she races closer.

  Swearing, Creek comes after her.

  I head for her and she reaches me halfway, a light in her eyes that I’ve seen before—rage, burning like fire through that emerald. “When you go after Papa, you won’t just have him thrown in jail, right? You’ll literally be nailing him to the wall?”

  Messy, but doable. “If that’s what you want me to do.”

  Her chin lifts. “I want to do it with you. I want to make him really, really pay. I’ll tell you everything I know. Just let me go with you.”

  “All right.” Anything she wants.

  Gratitude slips over her expression. “Thank—”

  “Don’t.”

  “Miss Faraday,” Creek says, coming up slowly with his hands held out, as if thinking she’ll bolt like a frightened doe. “Leaving is not a safe option for you. And if you’re thinking of taking justice into your own hands, remember that is not what Matt stood for.”

  “I know what he stood for,” she snaps at him. “I’ll still give you everything you want to know—just set up more meetings like this and I’ll do my duty. I’ll still sit in that witness stand. But I’m not going to sit in another cage until then.”

  Gritting his teeth, he pulls his hand through his hair, then looks to me. “Talk some fucking sense into her.”

  “She’s making sense to me.”

  “I’ve given you a lot to go on already.” She heads for my bike, straps her pack to the back. “But here’s something more. At that town I was bait in. I don’t know what it was called—”

  “Cactus Gulch,” I say.

  “There was a sheriff who took a roll of cash from the Iron Blood. Baumgarten, according to his name tag. So if you’re looking for someone who might be smoothing the way to these other stables, that might be a good place to start.”

  His eyes narrow. “While you start somewhere else.”

  She doesn’t say anything. Just stands beside my bike with her helmet in hand. Waiting for me.

  Creek meets my gaze. “This is grief talking. So when this anger passes, bring her back. Anytime, anywhere.” He hands me a card. “For now, just keep her safe.”

  With my own life. I tuck his card away. “Be seeing you, Creek.”

  “Soon, I hope.”

  He can keep hoping. I’m done with wishing when it comes to this girl. I’ll take everything she gives. But until she gives it, I won’t ask for anything more.

  I head back to my bike. That fire’s still in her eyes, though a tremble has returned to her lips. “You sure about this?” I ask her.

  She nods and pulls on her helmet, the faceplate still up.

  “Then hold onto me, angel.” I settle onto my bike. “We’ve got a ways to go.”

  “I know.” Her hands briefly rest on my shoulders for balance as she straddles the seat behind me. “And it’s Maxine.”

  My heart squeezes tight. “What’s that?”
r />   “My name.” Her arms wrap around me. “It’s Maxine.”

  My chest feeling real full, I fire up my engine. So there it is. The name of the girl I’d do anything for. The girl who’s got me so damn deep in love with her. This fucking girl.

  Maxine.

  III

  The Road

  29

  Stone

  That morning, for the first time since leaving the barns, my girl doesn’t stir awake before sunrise.

  My dog does. I hush Daisy’s urgent whining and lead her downstairs, opening the side door to let her out. Anna’s already up and in her kitchen, banging cupboards. Shit. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what set off her temper.

  I open the door that leads from the stairwell to her kitchen and close it behind me. “Want to cool it for a bit? Maxine is still sleeping.”

  And that’s the first time I’ve said her name. Maxine.

  Fits her a whole lot better than Cherry.

  Anna shoots me a look that’s pure poison and slams her kettle onto a burner. Loud as fuck, but her voice is a low hiss. “I can’t fucking believe you brought that girl here. You never bring anyone home. And when you do, it’s that one?”

  “And you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I tell her gently, because my sister’s low view of Maxine is my own damn fault.

  In sweat shorts and bare feet, Gunner comes into the kitchen. He gives me a single assessing glance before stopping behind Anna, leaning down to kiss her neck and to murmur something into her ear. And…yeah, that’s a change. Holy shit. Knew it had happened between them. Seeing it is something different.

  This ain’t the first time we’ve all been in this kitchen together. Far from it. Yet always before, I was the link to both while they each pretended there was no link simmering between them. It was just Anna, my sister—and Gunner, my brother. But now, they’ve got their own link that doesn’t have a damn thing to do with me. Something that puts me outside of what they are together.