Desolation Road

by Feehan, Christine

  Hell no, it wasn’t easy. Taking on those nightmares. Those images turned his stomach. He understood why Savage believed he was lost. Absinthe had spent a thousand hours, more even, looking up the making of a sadist in the library and the unmaking of one. How to cure one. How to make them “normal.” There was no normal for Savage. There never would be. Absinthe accepted his part in creating that monster.

  He couldn’t actually label Savage a sadist. That was the closest thing he could come to calling him, yet Savage wasn’t cruel to others. He didn’t like to hurt people, rather he was the first to protect them. When it came to his sexual needs, that was a different story altogether. The things he’d endured and the things he’d been forced to do would never leave him and when the memories were too close and threatened to consume him, as clearly was happening now, rage welled up like a volcano in Savage, making him a very dangerous man.

  Absinthe took a breath. “Just breathe for a minute, Savage.”

  He deliberately didn’t share how he did this. He never touched his brother when he eased those demons. That way, Savage didn’t realize he invaded his mind in the way he did when he interrogated their enemies. He was familiar with the pathways to every one of his brothers and sisters; he’d been working on strengthening them since his childhood.

  With Savage, he always had to prepare himself for the blood and gore. The screams of pain. The scent of burning flesh. The way his stomach churned and the mixture of sexual need that all ran together. Dark and terrible cravings rushed at him like vicious tentacles ready to wrap around him, snakes of brutality struck at him with sharp teeth, biting deep. A little boy with a mop of blond ringlets all over his head curled naked in a corner, his body covered in bright red stripes.

  Absinthe saw himself on one side, Demyan on the other, both trying to console that young Savage. There was no place to touch him, no place to keep from hurting him. Everywhere bled. Steele knelt, trying to find a way to make the bleeding stop. Reaper and Czar raged. Demyan and Absinthe both whispered to him: “Accept it. You like it. You like giving the pain. You like taking the pain. Accept the pain. It’s your friend. You know you’re alive.”

  Over time that mantra had changed. Savage had been the one expected to please their brutal captors by entertaining them with their whips and brands. If he didn’t, so many would suffer or be killed. He was given little choice if he wanted his brother alive. He became very, very good at what he did, even as a young teen. It sickened him so much that Absinthe would whisper to him continually to help him, both before and after.

  “You like this. You need it. You crave it. You have to have it.”

  Savage complied with their tormentors’ demands, although it didn’t stop them from beating him or treating him just as cruelly. Absinthe and his brother worked harder to make it as easy as possible on him.

  Savage was so sick most of the time he couldn’t keep down food. He cried. He stayed alone. He refused to talk to the others or look at them. Absinthe and Demyan both continued to try to help him accept what he couldn’t change. None of them ever believed they would live through their time at the school. It didn’t occur to them that what they were being trained to do sexually for their captors as children and then as teens, all the way to adulthood, they would continue to crave even after they escaped. Those practices would be ingrained in them.

  “Accept who you are,” he whispered to Savage under his breath straight into that pathway, his brain to his chosen brother’s. “There is no monster. You do nothing wrong. You don’t want to hurt anyone. Be at peace with yourself.”

  He did his best to try to take the worst of Savage’s sins. He knew they weren’t Savage’s. Those were on the men who had so cruelly used a little child and then thought it would be great fun to teach that child to become one of them. They had never considered that the child would surpass the instructors. Not only had he learned from them dark sexual practices, but all of them had been trained to be assassins for their country.

  If that hadn’t been enough, in order to survive a school they weren’t meant to survive, they had to crawl through vents as children and kill the worst of their instructors. While all of them had played their part gathering information, Reaper and Savage had been the two who had most excelled at the actual killings while the others kept watch.

  Absinthe breathed deep, trying not to look or act sick in any way in front of Savage. If he failed, he knew his brother would never come to him for help again. He couldn’t speak, so he waited in silence.

  Savage sat for a few minutes and then slowly nodded his head. “I don’t know how the hell you do it, but you fuckin’ save my life every single time. Thanks, bro.”

  Absinthe shoved his cold coffee cup toward him and indicated it. Savage heaved a sigh. More than anything, he detested dealing with people. He stood up, looked over at Lana and Alena with such a pained look on his face that in spite of his churning stomach, Absinthe wanted to smile. Both women immediately rolled their eyes, stood up and took the coffee cups.

  “You’re such a coward, Savage,” Lana hissed.

  Savage looked completely unperturbed now that the women were doing what he wanted them to do. He sauntered back to his table, winking at Absinthe over his shoulder.

  NINE

  Scarlet’s heart was beating far too fast as she watched Absinthe saunter over to the car through her rearview mirror. He took her breath away. He was tall with wide shoulders and wearing his jeans, motorcycle boots and that tight tee that stretched across his thick chest and incredible arms. He wore a thin leather vest over it. His hair tumbled wildly around his face and there was that ever-present blue shadow on his jaw. She could hardly breathe just looking at him.

  Hand on the door, she managed to open it with shaky fingers and then she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers. She hadn’t imagined the way he kissed, hotter than hell, consuming her, pouring fire down her throat until she went up in flames and there was only Absinthe with his rock-hard body and his amazing, most intelligent brain, those large, strong hands that could be by turns gentle and then rough, melting her.

  She slid her arms around his neck and let herself surrender to him in a way she’d never given herself to anyone before. It felt good, and more, it felt right. Absinthe held her as if she were the only woman in his world, protectively, when she knew she wasn’t the kind of woman who needed protection. Still, she wanted it.

  She kissed him back, heat rising, blood rushing, feeling alive, that woman she kept hidden deep rejoicing in being set free. For him. She felt she could do anything for him. She might not have been with him for these past six weeks, but she’d connected with him. She’d noticed every little thing about him. She felt like she knew him whether they’d actually been physically together or not. She told herself a million times she was crazy, and yet she couldn’t help herself. Being with Absinthe made sense, she fit with him. She didn’t know why, she just knew she belonged with him.

  He lifted his head and framed her face with his hands. Just the way he did that, his crystal-blue eyes staring down into hers, brought another rush of heat so that flames licked over her skin and settled in her stomach, burning brightly.

  “You drive way too fast, ledi.” That velvet voice was a low growl. A reprimand that slid over her, bringing more flames, this time fiery tongues that raged between her legs and stormed into her feminine channel, a blaze that wouldn’t stop and only he could put out.

  “I needed to get to you,” she admitted simply. It was the truth.

  “I told you I wanted you alive, Scarlet.” He brushed a brief kiss across her lower lip and then caught that pouty curve between his teeth.

  Her heart accelerated and blood thundered through her clit. Her breasts suddenly felt swollen and achy, too large for the sexy lacy bra she’d bought just for him.

  He bit down gently, all the while looking into her eyes. It was so intense. She felt like she was drowning in all that strange light blue. No one had eyes like he did. He mesmerized he
r when he looked at her with that dark intensity that stole her will. She knew this man could command her to do anything. If he’d told her to take her clothes off right there in the parking lot, she would have for him.

  “Alive is better than fast, isn’t that what I said, baby? Alive is the most important to me. I’m grateful you wanted to get here, that means a lot to me, but that road can be dangerous, and your safety is what matters the most. I trust that the next time I say that to you, you’re going to listen to me.”

  “Absinthe.” She was a better-than-average driver. There hadn’t been any danger.

  His hand slipped to the nape of her neck. “Scarlet, I searched for years for the woman I could actually feel something for, let alone fall in love with. One I could have that kind of mind-blowing sex with. One I could talk to without wanting to lose my fucking mind. A woman who could bring my mind peace when it was so chaotic from feeling everyone’s emotions. Years, babe. Fucking years. I never thought you existed. I walked into that library looking for a little peace. Just a little. And I found you. Do you think I want to risk you? I don’t. Not for any reason. I don’t want you taking risks when you don’t need to. Not for a few extra minutes when I want a lifetime with you.”

  She blinked up at him, afraid she had stars in her eyes. He was … wonderful. “I’ll be more careful.”

  “I want you to listen to me and do the things I ask you to do.”

  She had listened. She always listened. She loved his voice and went over and over every word he said. She couldn’t help it. She nodded. “I will.”

  His smile was slow in coming. That one that started so slow it seemed to take forever so she found herself anticipating it. Watching that slow climb from the small quirk of his lips to the sheen in the crystal blue of his eyes. Her stomach dropped and did a slow roll and then the butterflies took wing. Did they really need to talk? Maybe they should just find a room somewhere. Talking wasn’t as great as people made it out to be.

  He bent his head again and kissed her. If he gave her kisses every time she did what he wanted her to do, then she was going to be so obedient he was going to be in heaven. He could have anything he wanted. She was addicted to his kisses and the best sex in the world. Her body turned pliant, boneless, melting into his. Little sparks of electricity snapped and sparked over her skin, bright and hot. Fire roared in the pit of her belly. She couldn’t think straight. She clung to him when he lifted his head.

  “We’d better stop before we get arrested.”

  “I suppose.” She sounded pouty even to her own ears. “Although it would be worth it.” She glanced down at the vest she was clutching with both hands. It took a moment to come down from the sexual rush his kisses produced to register what he was wearing.

  Her mouth went dry. She tried to step back but he was holding her close, one hand still curled around the nape of her neck. She let her palm slide from his shoulder to one of the patches on the front of his vest. “You’re in a club.”

  His blue eyes looked down at her, clear and innocent. “Yeah. All eighteen of us. Big club. I told you, we were all raised together. Now we ride together and look out for one another. I want you to meet them, but first, I want us to talk. This was one of the things I wanted to tell you about.”

  Scarlet hesitated, blinking up at him. She took her sunglasses off very slowly. “I’m not really fond of MCs, Absinthe. And before you think I’m judgy, I have reason to be.”

  “I’m striking out all over the place. You don’t like that I’m an attorney and you don’t like that I’m in a club.”

  He shrugged, that roll of his wide shoulders so casual she got that weird slow somersault in the pit of her stomach again. He could do that to her so easily.

  “We both have pasts, Scarlet. That’s what we’re here for, to talk about them.”

  She lifted her gaze to look beyond him, sweeping the patio with the tables and brightly colored umbrellas. The rows of motorcycles and men seated, the two women. Immediately, she chose her targets. The big man, all muscle, seated at the middle table, with the shaved head and the dark, mirrored glasses would have to go first. She’d kill him and then the one seated to the left of him at the next table. The dark-haired woman who had come in the library …

  “Stop it.” Absinthe’s voice was low. Commanding. Held a whip of fury. “Those people are my family. They protected you. They went out of their way to protect you. You don’t get to even think about killing them.”

  She tilted her head to look at him. “What do you mean, they protected me?”

  “I told you we had to talk. Let’s sit down.”

  “I’ll be surrounded by your club.”

  “You’ll be surrounded by my family. I can ask them to leave if you’re so damned worried. You aren’t a coward, Scarlet. I wanted you to know as much about me as fast as I could let you in. That was important to me. These people know me. They lived through the nightmare with me. If I want to let you in, then I can’t just give you a little part of me. I have to let you see who I am. Isn’t that what we talked about over the last couple of days?”

  He was right. They had. She just hadn’t expected … this. But she should have. He rode a Harley like he’d been born on one. He’d referred to his “sisters” as women he’d been raised with. She’d thought they were in the foster care system with him. Now she knew he was from Russia and his family had been murdered. There was much more to his story, she realized. She did want to know all of it. She wanted to know every single detail because he was willing to tell her. He was right about her. She wasn’t a coward.

  She looked at those seated, drinking coffee, talking together at the various tables. She’d registered the occasional arrival of a motorcycle while kissing Absinthe somewhere in the distant background, but nothing had mattered to her but his kisses—then. This was his family. Eighteen of them, he’d said. It wasn’t a big club. Not like the clubs Holden turned to when he wanted people to cooperate with him. When he wanted witnesses against his son to recant their testimony.

  Scarlet took a deep breath and lifted her chin. “All right, Absinthe. Let’s go talk.” She had all her weapons on her. She would be closer to her targets.

  He lifted his eyebrow but took her elbow and turned her toward the shaded tables on the patio. “I thought you’d feel better if we talked in a public place rather than at the clubhouse or my home.”

  “I can see why.” She kept her voice low, trying not to sound sarcastic when she felt a little raw. She didn’t know what to think and so she did her best to keep her mind blank. She didn’t want to make a snap judgment. Absinthe had asked her to meet him in public. He had been open about his club first thing on her arrival. She couldn’t fault him on that.

  “What would you like to drink?”

  She’d been looking forward to a latte, but her churning stomach warned her that she’d better be careful. “I think I’ll stick with water for the moment.”

  He nodded his understanding and made some sign she couldn’t really see to a man who had long hair swept back from his face and was unreasonably good-looking. Like Absinthe, he had more muscles than was good for him. He wore the jeans, tight tee and vest with motorcycle boots the rest of them did, but she could see why when he got up from his seat, several girls in cars waiting in the drive-thru hung out of their windows to watch him.

  “Don’t like you staring at Master, baby. Eyes on me.”

  “His name is Master? Really?”

  “That’s what we call him for a number of reasons.”

  He reached across the table and picked up her hand, the pad of his thumb sliding back and forth, mesmerizing her. She should have pulled away from him, just to keep her wits about her, but she couldn’t resist him.

  “Thank God you’re not called that.”

  “You wouldn’t call me Master?”

  His voice dropped an octave. Turned sexual. Sensual lines were carved deep into his face. He brought the back of her hand up to his jaw and rubbed along the fain
t bluish bristles there. She tried not to breathe him into her lungs, but there was that faint scent of sandalwood she associated with him.

  “I might, under the right circumstances.” Unfortunately, that was strictly the truth.

  He sucked the tips of her fingers into the heat of his mouth and then bit down gently on them. “That’s the right answer. Thank you for looking past the club.”

  “I need to know what you meant when you said they were all protecting me.”

  “I’ll tell you, Scarlet, but you’re going to get pissed. Let me start at the beginning so things won’t be out of context and then you’ll understand. That way, we’ll have a chance. More than anything, I want a chance with you.”

  She believed him. Over the last ten years she had worked very hard at developing the ability to learn how to listen to voices to discern the truth from lies. Maybe part of believing him was she desperately wanted him to be real. She glanced around them once more.

  Absinthe had led her to the last table in the long row away from the street. The man she had pegged as the most dangerous sat at the table closest to them with the dark-haired woman and two other men. Now that she could see the men, they all looked dangerous. These men weren’t just average everyday businessmen or simple hell-raisers as Absinthe portrayed them.

  Scarlet assessed them now that she was closer. She was definitely in over her head. She had trained with a man that others who were threatening spoke of in whispers, yet she knew these men in the Torpedo Ink colors were equally as dangerous, or more so. She should have recognized it in Absinthe immediately, but she’d been too enamored by him. She’d first seen him in a library, the most non-threatening place in the world.

  “Every one of the charter members of Torpedo Ink, our club, was born in Russia. Our parents were opposed to the same candidate, a man who had a powerful friend by the name of Sorbacov, who commanded a secret military branch. Mostly the families were feared because most of them not only had money and influence, but because they had some form of psychic gift or talent that ran strong in their family. At that time, the government was secretly acknowledging that there was truth to these gifts and were trying to utilize them for the military, something these families were against.”