“Boss, fuck! Shit, are you okay?” Zane races over, dragging Silver’s body off me. “We got her. We got Tara,” he says offering me his hand and pulling me from the floor. “Fuck, you’re hurt.”
Grimacing, I force myself to breathe through the pain. I glance over to my father lying on the floor. His hand clutches his stomach and blood pours from the wound.
“Take him inside.” I croak out my instruction, lifting my shirt and dragging it across my face in an attempt to remove the blood.
Stepping over Silver’s body, I rush to make my way into the building. With every second that passes by, the movement in my arm becomes less and less. I press my already bloodied hand against the gunshot wound. Looking at my hand, it’s bleeding pretty bad. But I don’t care. I have to get to Tara. I have to know she’s okay.
“Davo,” I yell out. My eyes roam the place, hoping to locate Tara. I head toward the stairs, footsteps can be heard and vibrate from just above.
“Up here, man,” he yells down to me. Racing up the stairs so fast, I have to stop myself from tripping. As soon as my eyes land on Tara in Davo’s arms, I almost lose my shit. It’s like someone has taken a knife to my gut. Her body is wrapped in a bedsheet and her face is bruised and badly swollen. Her neck is covered in cuts and her hair has been cut off.
But the one thing I notice above all else is her smile.
She’s smiling. The kind of smile I know she only has for me. She wiggles her leg, instructing to Davo that he should put her down.
“Are you sure?” he asks with a frown. “You’re weak, honey.”
“I’m sure,” she whispers and he does as she asks. Lowering her, he takes hold of her arm, holding up her weight. My eyes travel down to the blood on her leg.
Unable to hold back any longer. I race over to her, scooping her up in my arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” I say, holding her to my chest.
“I just want you to take me home,” she sobs against me and I feel overwhelmingly protective.
“I will, baby, I promise.” Pulling back, I brush my hand over her hair, her head tipping and her eyes meeting with mine. “I just gotta finish up here.”
“Where is he?” Her eyes widen and the look of fear creeps over her face.
“Downstairs and hurt badly. He won’t ever be able to touch you again.”
“Please, just get me out of here,” she rushes out, shuddering.
“I need your shirt, man.”
Immediately, Davo slides off his cut and removes his shirt, handing it to me. He slides the cut back on while I wrap his shirt around Tara, fastening the first few buttons to cover her semi-naked body.
“I need you to take her outside. Wait at the bikes for us,” I inform Davo.
“You got it,” he replies, wrapping his hand around her waist and helping her down the stairs.
“Whatever you do, keep your eyes focused on the door. I don’t ever want you to lay eyes on that sick fuck. You hear me?”
“Yes,” she replies meekly, sniffling as she fights back tears. As we approach the bottom of the steps, I place my hand under her chin lifting her head slowly until she’s looking into my eyes.
“I love you,” I declare and her eyes widen. Those words I’ve often struggled to say. The feelings I’ve held back all come pouring out. Because I’m her man. And she has to know how I feel. I dip my head, kissing her lips gently. Her eyes flutter shut and a single tear streams down, dropping onto my jaw. Her tears are mine. Her pain is mine too. I glance over my shoulder, looking at my father, slumped but breathing in a chair positioned in the middle of the room.
Turning my attention back to Tara, I tell her, “I’ll be out in a minute, okay?”
She nods, bowing her head, her eyes focused on her feet as she shuffles them, making her way out with help from Davo.
Pushing my hands into the pockets of my jeans, I sigh heavily before turning and making my way over to my father.
Stopping just beside him, I roughly grab his hair, dragging his head back, wanting this monster to look me in the eye.
“I’m going to make you pay. You hurt the only person that has ever meant something to me. And for that, you lose your life.”
“No,” he croaks, coughing a little. “It doesn’t have to be this way. You’re my son. Can’t you find it in your heart to somehow forgive me?”
“Forgive you?” I roar, releasing the hold on his hair. I hate my father. I despise him with everything I have. But the conflicted emotions are almost too much. For a split second I feel a pang of guilt. Guilt knowing I’m about to end his life.
I look up at Zane who is standing behind the chair, his hands clamped in front of him. “Bring in the other bodies,” I instruct, moving away and rifling through the boxes in the corner of the room.
“Do you know, Dad.” I accentuate the word dad as I shout over to him, knocking box after box over until I finally find what I’m looking for. “I met my brother the night we helped Braxton and Isabelle.”
“What are you talking about?” He slurs his words and I see that he’s losing consciousness. “Yeah, that’s right. Harlan was there. He was helping Alvrez. And your friend Silver cut off his fucking hand. When we torched the place, Harlan burnt along with it.”
“No… What?” he splutters.
“Yes, Dad. He died that day. And I’ve decided you’re going the same way.”
I walk over to a chair in the corner, pulling it to a stop in front of him. I straddle the chair, resting my chin on the backrest, staring at the man I once called father.
I sigh. “You know it didn’t have to be this way. But you just couldn’t sit back and allow me to be happy, could you?”
He laughs maniacally. “Cheap bit of pussy, huh… you’re killing me because of her?” He spits out the words and I’m enraged. Jumping up from the seat, I knock it to the floor and draw out my knife. I can’t help but draw back my hand and let my knife plunge into his chest. Over and over I stab in a fit of rage.
“You faggot,” he coughs and splutters his venomous words.
“Arrgghh,” I yell, stepping back and shaking the hand that still clutches the knife. My chest heaves as my breathing is rapid as the anger and adrenaline consume me. After a few seconds, I grab the small can of gasoline and start to splash his face with it. He groans and moans but has barely any fight left in him. Zane drags the lifeless bodies of Ozzie and Silver inside and I douse them with the gasoline.
“Grab another can,” I say to Zane, pointing over to where there are more gasoline canisters. “We gotta make sure this place goes up.”
He takes one from the stack and starts to spray the area with the gasoline.
“No. Please, no,” my father pleads, but it’s no use.
This is happening.
When the whole place has been sprayed with gasoline, we make a trail toward the door.
I dig in my pocket and light the flame on my lighter. Dropping it to the floor, I watch as the trail of gasoline burns, racing toward my father. Within seconds the fire surrounds him and his screams fill the otherwise desolate area.
“Come on, man. We should leave.” Zane tugs on my arm, but I’m transfixed. I’m watching the man I’ve called father for years burn alive.
“Really, man. You don’t wanna watch this. Let’s go!”
His mouth falls open as the fire peels away his skin. His head drops forward and I’m sure he’s lost consciousness. I start to cough as the smoke and fumes hit me. I snap from my trancelike state, taking in just how much the place is on fire.
The earlier guilt has left me and all I feel is relief. Relief that I’m finally free to live my life.
Relief that Tara no longer needs to live in fear.
“Let’s go,” I say, turning and making my way outside, rushing over to the bikes. As soon as I reach the bike my chest aches at the sight of Tara. My father fucked her up bad, and I can’t help but worry about her. About how she’ll get over this. Sitting back against the seat of my bike, her eyes a
re downcast as she stares at the ground, her arms crossed and her shoulders stooped. Without a word, I stop in front of her, holding her in my arms. Pulling her head against my chest, it thuds furiously, the anger so intense I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.
And the guilt.
Yeah, that shit’s the worst.
I fucking failed her. I didn’t protect her and the baby.
Fuck, the baby.
Pulling back with haste, I look her over, wondering if he hurt her in ways that are blind to the eye. “Shit.” I sigh, wondering how the fuck I’m supposed to ask her. “We need to get you to the hospital, baby.”
“Yeah,” she replies. Her expression and tone are solemn and I feel helpless. I want to be the one to save her and make things better, but I’m not sure I ever can. I may have taken her from the clutches of the monster I once called father, but how can I undo all of the hurt and anger she feels.
Shaking my head, I try to clear my thoughts, knowing, no matter what, now is the time I have to push aside everything and focus on helping Tara.
“Your shoulder, man. You okay to ride?” Zane asks, surveying the damage the bullet made.
“One arm, one leg, nothing is ever gonna stop me from riding, brother.”
He and Davo laugh and I glance over watching as the flames roar and the heat intensifies from the burning building. “We gotta get out of here.” I look at Tara, ready to ask if she’s good to ride. But I don’t get the chance. The sound of Davo’s phone ringing stops me in my tracks. Pulling it out, his eyes widen. “I think this is for you.”
Narrowing my eyes, I tilt my head and pause, waiting for him to explain.
“Braxton,” he says with an exaggerated lift of his brows.
“Fuck.” I stamp my boot against the ground, pulling out my own cell. Looking at the screen there are over one hundred missed calls and it causes me to roll my eyes.
Handing me his cell, I flip it open and answer his call.
“Braxton.”
“Fuck. Nate?”
“Yeah, man. It’s me.”
“The fuck is happening?” he roars down the phone and I pull it away a little.
“You need to calm—”
“Are you for real right now, Nate? Tara is taken by your psycho father and you don’t think to mention it?”
“I was too busy getting her back to consult you, Brax.”
“You impulsive jackass.”
“Call me what you want. But I found her, Brax, and I’m taking her to the hospital.”
The line goes silent for a second longer than expected. The awkward silence is broken by Brax. “And Jeffries?”
“Taken care of.”
“Fuck,” he says as he exhales. “I’ll meet you at County.”
“Yeah,” I reply, snapping closed the phone and handing it back to Davo. Turning back to Tara, I notice her hands covering her face and Zane has his arm around her, comforting her as she sobs silently. Tears stream across her cheeks and drip from her chin.
Zane looks at me and I tip my chin. He drops his arm, stepping away. “Baby,” I whisper to her. “I need you to straddle the bike. How’s your leg holding up?”
“Okay,” she mumbles.
“Tell me if it hurts too much.” I reach down, taking her ankle and guide it over the bike.
“Man, that ain’t right. She’s facing the wrong way.” Davo tilts his head, wrinkling his nose.
“Nah, brother. This is exactly where I want her. Facing me and in my arms.”
Grabbing the helmet, I secure it on her head, adjusting the strap and fastening it under her chin. Cocking my leg, I slide down and instantly her head rests into my chest. “Arms,” I say, giving her the gentle instruction. Grabbing both of her hands, I gently wrap them around me and she grabs the back of my cut lightly. She doesn’t lift her head. She remains resting against me. Kicking back the stand, I set off with Tara in my arms. The numbness of the wound on my shoulder makes it hard to ride, but I do what I have to.
Because for her, I’ll breathe through the pain to make sure she’s safe.
Tara
Sitting in the hospital, I stare at the wall. I don’t even blink as my mind tries to process the two emotions controlling me. Relief and rage.
I want to scream. But I also know it could’ve been a lot worse. I’m alive, even if I feel dead on the inside.
“Tara,” the familiar voice calls and I slowly look up at her as she stares down at me. “Oh, honey.” Sadness takes over Izzy’s beautiful face as she reaches forward. I snap my head away, not wanting her to touch me. I’m a mess and I don’t need anyone to touch me or tell me that.
“I won’t hurt you,” she says, her lip quivering.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
She turns her head, looking for a seat. Locating the chair behind her, she pulls it closer before sitting down and leaning into me. “Doc says those cuts shouldn’t scar too much.” She points to her own neck. “And the baby. Everything is okay with the baby.” Clasping her hands together, she offers me a weak smile. “That’s good, right?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Shit, Tara. Talk to me, honey.”
Lifting my hands, I cup my face. “I’m not ready. I have no idea what to say. How to explain the emptiness I’m feeling.”
“Did he, uh, hurt you sexually?” She shakes her head. “I hate to ask, I’m just trying to understand. Trying to help you through this.”
“No.”
“So he hurt you instead?”
“He told me the baby is his. That it can’t possibly be Nate’s.”
“What? Why would he say that?”
“Because when Nate was just a teenager, he had something wrong with him and it left him infertile. And if that’s true, then this thing inside me really is the devil’s spawn. And I’m just a host.”
Turning my head to the side, tears flow from my swollen eyes, pouring down and wetting the pillow beneath me.
“Stop. You have to stop thinking about it like that. It’s not healthy.”
“I need to know if it’s true.”
Reaching forward, her hand lands softly against my arm. “You need to do you first. Recover, rest, and most of all take the time to come to terms with what has happened to you. Scream, shout, cry, whatever you need to get it out of your system. Look at me, I still have moments where I can’t move past what happened and completely break down. What happened to you will be a memory you will have for the rest of your life. You’ll never forget and no one should expect you to. But you have to learn to live with it. Find the good and hold onto it with both hands. It’s the only way.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I allow my eyes to flutter shut. “You’re incredible, you know that, right?” I cover her hand with my own and know I’m so lucky to have her in my life. “Look at me though, Izzy. I’m a mess. He did this to me.” I reach up grabbing the jagged edges of my butchered hair. “Look.”
“But you’re alive. And I know it’s hard. But you have so much to be thankful for.” Izzy looks up at me and I know I’m feeling sorry for myself.
“You’re right.” Using my hands, I push myself up, straightening in the bed. “This self-pity shit doesn’t suit me, does it?” With a brief smile, it dawns on me. That it could’ve been a lot worse and probably would’ve been if it wasn’t for Nate.
“He got to me just in time, didn’t he?”
“Oh, he did. He really did.” She clutches my hand tightly, smiling genuinely at me.
“Where’s Brax? I’m waiting for his usual big brother ‘I told you so’ routine.”
Snickering, she lifts her hand to cover her mouth. “He’s a bossy asshole with a good heart. And he loves you dearly, Tara. Just know that it comes from a good place.”
“Is he here?”
“Yeah, he’s in with Nate.” She pauses for a second, looking at me cautiously. “So, you know about Jeffries? That’s got to be a huge relief.”
“I d
on’t know exactly what happened when Nate went back inside, but the whole place went up. I’m glad the bastard got what was coming to him.”
“You two can move forward now without looking over your shoulder.”
“But can I? Really? Because if it’s not his father, it’s someone else he’s going to be at war with. I don’t know how you do it, Izzy. Brax must have more enemies than friends. How the hell does that not scare you?”
“You can’t live for what-ifs, Tara.”
“But that’s the thing. I can’t help thinking these things or worry what will happen next.”
“What happened to you was a result of your cousin making a deal with Jeffries he couldn’t deliver. Nate has never put you in harm’s way and there wasn’t a great deal he could do about a deal his father made with Carter.”
I turn my head, snarling at her playfully. “God, you’re such a know it all,” I tease. But seriously, I know she’s right.
“When will you be discharged?”
“Today I hope.”
A knock on the door interrupts us and my eyes are fixed, watching to see who enters. “Hey.” His gruff voice echoes through the sterile white room.
“Brax.”
I can’t help but notice how his eyes roam from my face, landing on my leg. “Jeez, you’ll do anything to get out of working.”
With a chuckle, I wave for him to come closer. “I missed you... asshole.”
Wrapping his arms around me, he holds me in his tight bear-style hug. “I… need… to… breathe.” I exaggerate a little, playing with him.
Separating and breaking the hold, he cocks a brow, tilting his head a little. “You gave us all a scare. Glad to see Nate wasted no time in coming to your rescue. Boy did good.”
The complete scars series: Books one-four Page 79
