Lies & Devotion (Blood and Iron Warriors Book 3)

by Kat Kenyon

Shaking her head, she lifts her hand in protest. “Just to relax you enough to sleep.”

  “No thanks.”

  “It can help, Rayne. We can give you something that’ll calm you enough to sleep, and it’s something you can take after you leave.”

  When I don’t say anything, she jots down something quickly and looks back at me. “So, Tyler helped your nightmares.”

  Nodding, I picture his arms slipping around me. One pillowing my head, while the other encases the whole of my torso, his hand spreading across my chest pulling me tight against him. His smell and heat keeping the cold and fear away.

  “Does he know you have nightmares without him?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I had nightmares during fall semester.”

  “What happens when you two break up?” she asks, her eyes on her notes.

  Snapping my gaze to her, my first instinct is to be afraid. I lost him once because he betrayed my trust and I had to walk, but he isn’t who he was, and my fear slips away like water through fingers. “We won’t,” I tell her, holding her gaze.

  Broken or not, he’s mine and I’ll be damned if I give him up.

  “You two are very young and this situation is a lot to handle. I’m aware you haven’t been watching the television, but the media has picked up the case. Rayne, I want you to be prepared to face everything that may come your way. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t make sure you were ready for the possibility your relationship with Tyler doesn’t survive the pressure.”

  “Okay, you did your job, you warned me. Now, let me tell you. We’ll survive this. Was there anything else?”

  “No, no Rayne, that’s enough for the day.”

  Walking away from her, my adrenaline pumps, and instead of beautiful dance moves, I feel like jumping into a mosh pit and crashing into people.

  Fuck you, Miss What happens when you two break up?

  I fucking hate this place.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tyler Blackman

  “We’re coming over.”

  Mike’s voice cuts off as the call ends. Apparently, my opinion counts for shit.

  Rayne was pissed when I left and I hated leaving her like that. When I got home, I finished my homework, reviewed film from the season, and made a couple calls. It didn’t take long, so I sat in silence; the situation clawing at my insides. The whiskey isn’t soothing the ache, and I’m crystal clear it can’t fix anything, but at least it’s numbing the sharpest edges of her absence.

  When Mike called my new phone, I answered, because what the hell? I had to turn off our old phones and hand them over to Vindex because they were full of tabloid requests for comments, crazy women, stalkers, and nutcases. It’s out of hand. Only the important people know our new numbers, and there are days I want to hand over the new one too.

  The knock at the door echoes in the silence. Glancing at my phone there’re four texts from Vindex that I didn’t look at while I was on the phone with Mike, and I almost shudder thinking of what’s next. The mental effort of pushing my body vertical hurts, but I shuffle across the floor and open the door.

  “You look like shit.” Dad’s voice is as unwelcome as the screech of tires before an accident. The man himself is in my doorway with two of our team, including Tony, blocking his entry.

  “Sorry, Tyler, but we texted, and he said he was family.” I can tell Tony’s unsure if he should remove Dad or let me talk to him. It’s my fault. I didn’t technically put him on the banned list like I did people like Emily.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” Dad’s question whips out like a knife, not at my security, but at me.

  He’s in his normal business suit, his appearance is on point, just like he taught me.

  “He’s my security.” I sigh. “He’s here to keep out people I don’t want to see.”

  “I’m your father,” he snaps.

  What little energy I had feels like it seeps into the floor. He’s a damn vampire, leeching life force from everyone around him. “If I wanted to see you, I’d have answered one of your phone calls. Why are you here?” I ask tiredly.

  Leaning over Tony’s shoulder, he practically spits in my face. “I’m not discussing this in the hallway.”

  Tony begins to push him, calmly telling him, “Sir, you’ll need to leave.”

  Dad looks incredulous as he gets manhandled backward and shouts, “Tyler, you and I need to talk. Now!”

  This is getting ugly. Whether I want to deal with him or not, I don’t want a scene in the hall for our neighbors to see. “Fine. You have until my friends get here. Tony, please let them in when they arrive.”

  Tony gives Dad an impassive glance and nods before moving aside.

  “What do you want?” I ask again, rolling the ache out of my neck as Dad snorts, shoving past me into our apartment.

  “Watch your mouth,” he says as he invades the retreat I’ve created for Rayne in the wake of our world falling apart. When he looks around and dismisses it, a shiver runs down my spine, tapping into an angry energy that sensitizes every cell.

  You don’t belong in her space.

  “What, nothing to say?” Approaching a photo of Rayne and me, a sneer crosses his face, his hand flicking at the picture like he can make us disappear. “Figures. I’ve been calling you for weeks and you’ve been ignoring my calls.”

  I’m not sure if I want to pound his ass or ignore him, but he needs to leave. “I’m busy.”

  My dad’s a big guy, and when he turns, the look on his face is dark. His anger scared me in the past. I thought I deserved it. He treated me as if his problems were my fault, as if his mistakes were things I made him do. But I’m not that scared child anymore nor am I his punching bag. I have someone to take care of and nothing comes before her.

  “I need you to sign some paperwork.”

  Ahh. His precious fakes.

  Since the night he called to say we needed to work together to save Blackman Construction from Mom, he’s been working out how to backdate a sale of the business to me. He thinks if it’s in my name, Mom and Granddad will leave it alone. Every other day he leaves a message demanding I uphold the family name and legacy, but he forgets, it’s not my legacy, and I don’t care.

  “You made your bed.”

  He flinches, but shakes it off and straightens to his full size, intending to intimidate me. Reminding me of every bruise and broken bone, every dislocation he inflicted. I don’t feel bad for him.

  When I don’t back down, he scoffs. “You think you’re a big man now?”

  I almost yawn. “You want something from Mom, deal with her. You want something from Granddad, deal with him. I don’t have anything you want, and I don’t want anything from you, so what’s there to talk about?”

  He’s silent for a moment, and we just stare at one another. When he finally speaks, it sounds like he’s been running. “It’s okay with you if they take everything from us?”

  It’s hard to not roll my eyes when he puts us on the same team. “Not us. You. My plans don’t include Blackman Construction. That’s your company, you deal with it.” I cross my arms over my chest, tilting my head back to look down my nose at him. “And quit trying to pit me against Mom. You’re the one who pissed away your relationship. I’m not helping you screw her over.”

  Stepping into my face, he turns red, spit hitting my cheek. “You fucking blew up our family!”

  A memory flashes.

  I was a junior. I liked her. We’d grown up together, and unlike most of the girls in my small class, she didn’t raise the hem of her skirt or drop the neckline of her shirt to get my attention. Instead, she asked me what I was thinking and waited to hear what I had to say, and she didn’t treat me like a piece of meat or a source of income.

  I’d wanted to date her. I took her out a couple of times and didn’t want to hide it anymore. She was a sweet, hometown girl. And his face turned this same color right before he threw me into the frame of the building he was working on. Pain lanced up
my back, stunning me nearly blind, when he slammed the wrench down on my arm.

  It swelled all the way to the hospital and the entire time; he didn’t say a word.

  Broken bone, unusable.

  He claimed after the cast was on and we headed home, that he’d forgotten it was in his hand. He made me tell Mom I hurt myself. He never said he was sorry, and I knew he didn’t forget about that wrench. He broke my arm for wanting to date.

  “You blew up your family,” I say, that broken bone on the surface of my memory. “You hit your kid. You told your wife to get over it.” I sniff, nose flaring. “You threw your family away because you. Are. A. Dick.”

  Snorting in disgust I remember how I let his shit affect how I treated Rayne. “I almost lost Rayne because of you. I let you infect me with your bullshit. You’re pathetic if you think this is anyone’s fault but your own.”

  He shifts back, the dilation in his eyes a warning of the coming attack.

  Bring it.

  Sliding to the side to miss his jab, I land mine. The force of connecting with his jaw sends a sharp stab of satisfying pain up my arm, accompanied by his grunt. It’s music to my ears, the only dissonance is the missing thump to the floor.

  I need to hit you harder.

  “Punk ass—”

  Coming at me, his two massive arms come up in a bear hug meant to crush ribs and punish me.

  I’ve been here before, but I’m not who I was. I’ve made use of Sam’s training, and I know what to do. Hooking his legs and tucking my head, I take us to the ground, landing hard. As soon as we hit, I roll to mount position, hooking my legs around his thighs, making sure he can’t get away from me.

  Dad’s almost as tall as me and outweighs me a bit, but I’m tougher. When his fist hits my eye, the pain registers at a distance. Wrestling his arms down, I slam my elbow into his face, watching it change from pink to red. There’s a pounding drum in my ears, a racing rhythm in my chest as I vent my bile into the man who’s beaten his into me for years.

  The rhythm doesn’t stop even as he’s dragged away by too many arms, the blood from his face leaving a trail of crimson on the maple floors.

  “I’ll fucking kill you,” he spits out, but his rage doesn’t mean anything with the blood on a pale wood.

  “…down. I don’t know what happened but you need to stop.” Neil’s face appears, and unlike the raging bastard being dragged out my door, the Marine looks almost bored. “At least you didn’t use your hand.”

  Looking down at the cast, I’m pissed at myself. I can’t be fighting in her space. Breathing out as much of the monster still beating at my insides as I can, I press my tongue to the back of my upper teeth for a moment before I speak. “Elbows work just as well.”

  “I’m gonna have to talk to Sam about what he’s teaching you.” Humor lights up his eyes, even as he grabs his beard, the question of my control hanging in the air.

  “Nah, I’m okay now.”

  Exasperated, he nods to the open door, now filled with a moving truck, surfer, and a ghost so big he needs his own zip code.

  “It’s a good thing your boys arrived. I hate digging holes, and I hate moving bodies more.”

  A grunt from somewhere in the hall says one of his fellow Marines agree.

  “I can dig my own holes.”

  A snicker from Mike has me glaring. “He’s been digging himself a hole from the day we met him.”

  My boys walk in and I watch them step over the trail of blood like it’s the Amazon.

  “Fuck you,” I say, letting out a deep breath.

  “Your eye looks like shit.” Mike maneuvers in front of me with a grin as Neil walks out silently.

  “It’s fine,” I say, heading into the kitchen. Grabbing cleaning wipes and paper towels, I try wiping up the mess. With each pass, the white paper turns crimson…and my hands shake.

  Crimson on pale thighs. Dark red gashes covered in blood that run pink from the rain. Bloody scratches. Blood on silver flats.

  A giant paw lands on my back as my friends drop across from me, taking the bloody paper towels and wipes. “We have this.”

  Bay and Tegs clean my dad’s blood off the floor while Mike pulls me away.

  “I didn’t realize—”

  Tegs checks me with a frown. “That you were going to kill him?”

  “That’s not what I planned.”

  “I know that mount.” He shakes his head and grimaces. “You had it locked in and you were using elbows. That nose is broken.” Giving me a you’re-an-idiot look, he says, “Noses bleed like a bitch and so do cuts above the eye, and he has both.” He sighs. “If that’s not what you killing someone looks like, I don’t want to know what does.”

  Dragging myself to the couch, I sink down. “He swung first.”

  Mike settles on the opposite side and shrugs. “Dad’s do that.”

  Tegs doesn’t say anything as he sits on one of the love seats, while Bay appears with beers for all of us and plunks down in Rayne’s favorite overstuffed chair.

  “What’s his problem? And why would your dad want to hit you?” Bay asks. Popping the cap with his belt buckle he snickers. “Not that we all haven’t wanted to hit you a time…or five, but why the fuck would he pull this shit now?”

  “I’m not cooperating.” Popping my own cap, I think of all the times I took it. And took it. “I should have fought back a long time ago.”

  “Dude—” Tegs head drops back.

  “Tegs, my dad has been beating on me for years.”

  “I get that.” His eyes meet mine in understanding. “I’m not saying this because your dick of a dad doesn’t deserve a beat down. I’m worried, because, one, you didn’t realize how far it went tonight. You didn’t even know someone came in, did you?”

  I shake my head, wanting to deny it.

  “And two. Man, you can’t get arrested. You have to be smart about how you handle things, or you’ll never get her back.”

  The roar of fear is loud in my ears. If I get thrown in jail, they’ll have grounds to keep her from me, and Dad’s enough of a dick to press charges. “I know.”

  Mike sputters, “So what? You’re just gonna take shit now?”

  Tegs snorts at him, and I jump in.

  “No.” I take a long drink of hops and look at the ceiling.

  “Ty, you—” Tegs snaps while pointing an angry finger at Mike.

  “I’m not taking bullshit from anyone.” Rolling my shoulders, I close my eyes and try to work through all the issues. There are so many people trying to take a piece of us. “I’m not taking it when I don’t deserve it. But, you’re right, I have to be smart. I can’t give them ammunition to use against us.”

  “So, no more hitting people?” Tegs asks.

  Bay’s eyes glitter as he snorts. “He’s never gonna stop hitting people.” An evil smile spreads across his face. “So, what are you going to do?”

  “Not get in trouble.”

  Bay’s jaw hardens. “I don’t care who you hurt, as long as you protect her.”

  Understanding flares between us. “Exactly.”

  “I don’t get it,” Mike says. “How’re you gonna not get in trouble?”

  “Whatever I have to.” I glare into the room, seeing the future obstacles. “Nothing touches her and I’ll make sure I’m here because it’ll hurt her if I’m not.”

  Tegs groans. “You need to relax.”

  I turn on him, jaw locked. “Relax?”

  “You get ugly, then that’s all you’ll have to give her.” Tegs raises his palms.

  “I’ll give her anything she needs,” I snap.

  “Not if you don’t have anything left but violence.”

  “And what would you have me do, huh?”

  Waving toward the door, he looks sad. “Let them do the ugly work. Let the guys you hired protect you and her.”

  He’s not wrong, and he yet doesn’t see it. “I will and I am. I’m using every weapon I have.”

  “Tool,” he sigh
s, “not weapon.”

  “I need weapons.”

  “The world isn’t your enemy. You aren’t at war.”

  That’s where he’s wrong. I’ve been at war for a long time and so has she. Violence, abandonment, betrayal, all committed by family. All by the people who were supposed to protect us. I suffered over and over because I sought truces, sought peace. Maybe his life has been that easy, but not my world. Not our world.

  In our world, parents sabotage. They ambush. They blackmail and coerce. Battle after battle our family blindside our weak spots. In our world, there are allies and enemies, and being passive or willfully blind has led to catastrophe. There will be no more blurring of the lines. We’re at war.

  “Yes, we are. The only question here is, whose side are you on? ’Cause you’re either on Rayne’s side or you’re not on mine.”

  • • • •

  An ultimatum wasn’t what they expected. Bay’s on our side, no question. If I didn’t know how into his girlfriend he was, I might still suspect he was in love with Rayne. But the truth is, Rayne is Bay’s best friend, and it kills him that he hasn’t been able to protect her in all of this. I can respect it, even if it makes me grind my teeth.

  I’m a jealous bastard.

  Mike’s a ride-or-die guy and standing with his friends feels natural to him. Fighting with parents is normal to him, so the only issue he has is how to get away with it.

  The only person who pushes back is Tegs. He’s worked hard his whole life and stayed on a narrow path. He’s an Olympic bound athlete who has stayed laser-focused on his goals, and the idea of messing with the mission is outside his comfort zone. And I get it. But at some point, things are going to get ugly, and we’ll need friends who have our backs. They’ll need to be able to handle the heat no matter what the school wants and no matter what the courts do. I can’t be worried about the people around us cracking. If people can’t handle the ugliness, I need them gone.

  I know eventually life will get better, and I’ll be able to give her everything her heart desires. I know eventually life will be calm, happy. I’ll make sure she has everything before she knows she needs or wants it. If that means I have to dig some holes and move some bodies, I will.