by Tillie Cole
“Xavier!” I faintly recognized Bones’s voice, but I didn’t stop. Nothing would stop me now.
“Deyes!” a louder voice boomed, then someone grabbed me around my waist, yanking me off my kills. I fought whoever pulled me back until I was restrained on the ground, my knife ripped from my fingers. I looked to the side and smiled wider when I saw the corpses slumped against the wall. Corpses that barely resembled humans anymore. Fuckers that had paid for taking my brother.
“Take him!” Lewis ordered, a note of panic in his voice, and I was carried outside. Blood from my kills covered my hands. I was thrown into a small shack. The door slammed shut behind me. As I sat in silence, I looked down at the blood on my hands and felt nothing but pride. But it wasn’t long before my steady hands began to shake. Wasn’t long before thoughts of Devin and the state he was in hit home. Wasn’t long before the tears came thick and fast, adrenaline fading and reality hitting me.
The door opened and Lewis stepped inside. Sergeant Lewis—Devin’s closest friend and my superior. He began pacing, losing his shit. He kept looking down at me then shaking his head, repeating, “Shit!”
I watched him, numbly. They could lock me up. I didn’t fucking care. Those fuckers were dead. That was all I gave a fuck about right now.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” Lewis stilled. His face was red, and his eyes darted from side to side like he was debating something in his head. “All those fuckers were killed in the raid. No survivors.” I blinked, unfeeling and uncaring as he crouched before me. “What the fuck were you thinking, X?”
“They hurt him,” I snarled. “They needed to die.”
“Your brother is the best fucking Marine I know, and, more than that, he plays by the rules, has honor in the flag. He would never have pulled a stunt like that if your roles were reversed. You know what could happen to you if this is found out?”
“I don’t care. They fucked with him. They deserved to die. Don’t give a fuck about what happens to me now.”
Lewis ran his hand down his face, exasperated. “Clean up. I gotta figure all this shit out. We all gotta get our stories straight. Forget this ever happened. Yeah?” I got to my feet, not saying shit. Lewis grabbed my arm and wrenched me back to face him. “Dev saved my ass more times than you’d know. That’s the only reason I’m going against every ethical and moral code here, X. I owe Dev, and after what’s happened, I’m sure as shit not gonna have you court-martialed.”
I stormed through the door, only to see the building that had held my brother on fire, flames licking high and smoke tunneling into the air. “Fuckers lit it up when we arrived, but we managed to get our men out first,” Sergeant Lewis said from behind me. I knew that was the cover they were using to hide my crimes.
But as I washed off the blood from my kills in a nearby stream, I couldn’t help but feel pride at the deaths. Those assholes had deserved to die. And if I’d had more time, I knew I would have done much worse . . .
I gasped awake and shot upright. I looked at the end of my bed. There they were. Lined up to visit me again. The fucking insurgents, dripping in blood, their innards falling out and throats slit. They stared at me with black voids for eyes. “Go away,” I ordered and scrambled to the head of the bed. But they didn’t move. They just stared. They always just stared.
And then I saw them come up behind, ripping my heart in two. These ones I cared about. “No,” I begged, arms outstretched. “Please. Please don’t come to me again . . .” My voice faded to nothing as they took their usual space beside the insurgents.
They all stared at me with dead eyes, their skin gray and crepe-thin. “Please.” I felt the last of my resolve, my strength, break. My cheeks grew wet as I faced them all, the terrors that hadn’t left me in years. My guilt come back to life. “Leave me alone,” I screamed. “Please . . . just leave me alone,” I croaked, no energy left, and tried to breathe.
The door to the bedroom flew open and Phebe came running in. “AK?” She looked about the room in panic.
“Take them away.” I pointed at the end of the bed. “Make them go away. Please . . .”
“Who?” she said softly.
“Them.” I pointed at each of their fucked-up faces. “The blood is all over the floor.”
“AK,” she whispered, then carefully climbed into bed.
“Where were you?” I asked as her hand came to my face.
“I was getting some water. I had only just left the room. But I am here now. Calm . . .”
I looked into her blue eyes, and confessed, “I killed them.” Phebe tensed beside me.
“Who?”
“Them,” I said and pointed at the end of my bed. “They hurt my brother. They nearly killed him, so I killed them too. I killed them like they deserved. But now they won’t go away. They never leave. Neither do they . . .” I pointed my shaking hand at the two people that haunted me most.
“AK, you are not making sense.” She moved closer to my side. She took my hand and squeezed it tightly. I looked down at her slim fingers in mine.
“He had PTSD,” I said, my voice barely loud enough to hear. “They took him to a hospital in the months I was still serving out the rest of my tour. I couldn’t see him—he was brought back to Texas. I didn’t know how bad it was until I got back home. And I came back to find my brother was fucked up . . . beyond fucked up.”
Phebe kissed my hand, and I looked up into her face. “I didn’t know what to do. He was there in body, but he wasn’t there in his head. He drank, but worse . . . he was on heroin. I came home to find my brother was a junkie, had been for fucking months and no one had told me shit. He was still living in Iraq in his head. Still in that fucking room, losing his mind. Living the torture day by day. It never ended for him.”
“I do not understand,” Phebe said.
“My brother.” I felt the pain from simply saying that word. “I killed my brother, Phebe. The boots . . . his boots are by the door, his guns are in the trunk. This is his cabin, the one he brought me to as a kid. He’s dead, and it’s all my fault,”
I cast a glance to him standing at the bottom of my bed, his wrists and throat dripping with blood, his body too thin and frame weak. His hand was held out for me to take, but no matter how many times I tried to take it, to keep him safe, my hand just fell through thin air. I couldn’t reach him.
“It was all my fault,” I said again. “I fucked up. I lost everything because I fucked up.”
Phebe’s hands tightened in mine. “Then tell me. Tell me what happened. You need to, AK. I am here. And I will not let you fall. I will not let them hurt you.”
I stared into her eyes and, having no more strength left to fight, told her it all. For the first time in my life, I told someone.
I told it all—joining the Marines, the kidnap, the torture.
What I did.
And then . . .
She waved at me as I came through the airport. I shifted my bag higher on my shoulder and smiled when I saw the little man break away from Tina’s legs. Zane darted through the crowd and threw himself into my arms.
“Zane!” I hugged him tightly to my chest. “I missed you, buddy!” Zane squeezed me back.
“I missed you too,” Zane said.
I drew back my head to look at him. “Shit! How big have you gotten?”
He shrugged. “Pretty big.” The kid wasn’t kidding. I couldn’t believe how much he’d changed in nine months.
“Hey stranger.” I turned to see Tina standing beside us. I smiled at my sister-in-law, but quickly lost my smile when I really looked at her. She was thin. Her face was drawn, and fuck, she looked tired.
“Hey.” I looked around the airport for Devin. “Where is he?”
Tina looked away. When she looked back, her eyes were filled with tears. My heart sank. “Daddy’s in the hospital,” Zane said, and I froze.
“What?” I asked Tina.
She took hold of my arm. “Come home. I’ll explain everything there.” I follo
wed her through the airport. We stayed silent in the car, letting Zane tell me about the last nine months and what I’d missed. But all I could hear was “Daddy’s in the hospital.”
When we got home, Tina sent Zane into his room. I sat down in the kitchen, and Tina made coffee. She leaned against the counter, and it wasn’t until I saw her back shaking that I knew she was crying.
I jumped from my seat, still dressed in my fatigues, and spun her around. I towered above her, but her tiny body leaned into my chest. And she fucking broke her heart. She sobbed and sobbed until she was able to breathe enough to say, “He never came back, Xavier. The man who returned was not my husband. He was not your brother.”
I clenched my eyes shut, remembering him on that floor in the back room of the insurgents’ building. “What happened?”
“He came home, but he would sit at our door every night with a rifle in his hand. He said he knew they would be coming back for him. He said he was gonna kill them before they got to us.”
“Fuck,” I said and heard my own voice crack.
“It got too much. I had to take Zane to my sister’s. I had no choice. Dev was making our boy too scared to come home, so I sent him to Claire. I tried, X. I tried to help him, but it became too much.”
“So they locked him up?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“Claire and Tom had him evaluated. He was put in a hospital. He’s been there ever since.”
“Which hospital?”
Tina told me. I jumped on my Harley, and I tore out onto the road from the house to the hospital. Hospital staff thanked me for my service as I ran through the hallways of the wards, still dressed in my fatigues. I wasn’t supposed to visit, but when I told the nurses I’d just got back from Iraq, they let me in.
The smell of bleach hit me as I pushed through the door of the room. Everything was white and cold-looking. Devin was in the nearest bed. My heart fucking broke when I saw his lifeless eyes just staring up at the ceiling. “Dev?” Slowly, I approached the bed.
His head rolled to the side. His hair was still cut short, but that was all that was normal. My brother was half the size he’d been when he was healthy. Scars marred his skin, but worse, the life was gone from his eyes.
Like Tina had said, he was there in body, but not in mind. My hand shook as I reached out and took hold of his fingers. Devin didn’t even flinch. He just kept staring as if he wasn’t seeing me at all.
I felt my lips shaking and my vision blurring with tears. “It’s me, Dev. X. I just got back off my tour today.” Dev breathed, he stared, but he said nothing. I stared up at the clear bag beside him, wondering what the fuck they were pumping into his veins. Then I saw the inside of his arms and the scars that were there. Mark after mark showing where he had injected himself with smack.
“Dev, fuck.” I slumped down to the bed. I ran my finger over his hand. “I got them, Dev,” I said quietly. “I got them all. They’re dead. I made damn sure of it.”
I looked up at my brother, my motherfucking hero, but his eyes were just as lifeless as they had been since I’d walked in. So I sat in silence until the nurse came in and told me my time was up. I kissed Dev on his head, then got to my feet. Just as I was about to leave the room, a sound came from the other person in the room. I looked over to see a kid, around my age, maybe younger. He was strapped to the bed by his hands and feet, just like Dev. I found myself walking closer to his bed, reading his name chart.
Josiah Cade.
His eyes were wide open, and so fucking black they didn’t look real. He had drugs keeping him sedated too, but still he fought against the straps as I stood by his side. “What the hell brought you here too?” I asked, and the guy stopped thrashing. When he stilled I saw he had slashes on his arms. A fuck-ton of slashes. But his eyes were on me. Like he was trying to say something to me with his black gaze.
And I couldn’t take it.
None of this shit.
Turning on my heel, I left the hospital and drove to the nearest bar. A biker bar.
One week later I was the newest prospect for the Hades Hangmen. And then things got even fucking worse . . .
“You do not have to keep going.” Phebe pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“It got worse,” I said and let Phebe hold me tighter. “I fucked up, and that’s when things went completely fucking wrong.”
“AK—”
“No! I . . . I want to tell you.” I looked up into Phebe’s blue eyes, and I knew it was time. I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore . . .
“We got your lodge, yeah?” Vike asked as we snuck into the grounds and below the window.
“Tina’s gone to the coast with her sister and Zane. She won’t be there all week. She’ll never know he’s gone.”
Vike nodded, then held out his hands for me to step on. “Come on then, asshole. Let’s get your brother out.”
I hauled myself through the window of my brother’s room and heard Viking follow behind. “Shit, that’s him?” Vike said as I approached the bed that held Dev.
Dev’s eyes were just as spaced as every fucking time I came to see him. Months and months in this hell and not one bit of progress had been made.
I took the IV from Dev’s hand and threw back the covers from his body. I leaned down and scooped him in my arms. He weighed fuck all. “Come on.” I moved to the window.
Just as I was about to leave, I heard a noise come from Josiah in the bed opposite. When I looked over, he was watching us, those black eyes lost. In all the months I’d been visiting Dev, I hadn’t seen one person come for him. To see him. The fucker was alone.
“Vike,” I said on impulse. “Take Dev.”
“What?”
“Do it,” I ordered. Vike took Dev and climbed through the window as I crossed the room and freed Josiah from his restraints. I climbed out the window, leaving it open behind me so the kid could escape. We ran across the field and into the hidden truck. In the cover of darkness, we gunned it to the lodge and carried Dev inside.
We put Dev in a room. He was out like a light, too pulled under by the drugs to communicate. I sat beside him, holding his hand. But the longer I watched Dev, all I could think of was that Josiah kid we’d left behind. “You think he got out okay?” I asked Vike who sat beside me.
“Who?”
“Josiah. The kid I untied.”
Vike shrugged. “No idea.” He pointed at Dev. “So what the fuck so we do now?”
“We gotta wean Dev off whatever he’s on.” We watched Dev all night, but he hardly made a move. Then as night turned into a new day, I called up a prospect and told him to come watch Dev while I made a last minute run.
When the prospect arrived, I walked into the living room and found Vike sitting around the kitchen table. He raised his eyebrow at me and shook his head. “We’re gonna go find that fucking Josiah kid, ain’t we?”
“Gotta check on him. If he’s like Dev, fuck knows what state he’ll be in alone. I can’t in good conscience just fucking leave him. Something in his black eyes told me the fucker was crying out for help, but had no way to fucking ask for it . . . his fucking scarred arms, the way he just stares at nothing. Don’t think he has anyone who gives a shit about him. And I, for one, can’t let that shit go.”
It wasn’t long before we found him in an alley near the hospital, ripping up his arms with his blade. The young fucker eyeballed us as we approached, lips pulled back over his teeth as he growled. I held up my hands, watching his unfocused eyes try—but fail—to stay on me. “My name’s AK. I’m here to help. Get you the fuck out of this place and away from that nuthouse. They’ll find you if you don’t come with us and you won’t be getting out again.”
It had taken a fucking long time to get him to move—the kid clearly couldn’t be touched if his freak out when I tried was anything to go by. The brother glared at us from the corner of the alley, body tensed. But when the remainder of the drugs in his system pulled him under, knocking him the fuck out, we took him and go
t him back to the lodge too.
Vike carried Josiah into the spare room. I laid him down on the bed and Vike took the first watch of him. I went back to Dev, and I sat beside him, praying that when he came around, he’d be back to the brother I knew.
We’d be X and Dev once again . . .
“But he was not?” Phebe said. I shook my head.
“It got worse. Josiah, Flame, came around. He was fucked in the head, but he could be talked to. And I don’t know if it was gratitude or what, but he listened to me. Vike took him to the Hangmen compound, and he became a prospect too. But Dev . . .” I trailed off and looked to him at the end of the bed. My chest tightened. “He couldn’t stop living in his head. He would talk to me, eat. But I would find him outside in the middle of the night, waiting for the men who tortured him to come back.”
“AK.” Phebe pressed her hand on my forehead. “You are burning up.” I took hold of her wrist and brought her hand to my mouth. I kissed the palm and used the beat of her pulse to try and calm my heart. “AK?” she said. “You are worrying me.”
“I got called back to the Hangmen. The war had started with the Diablos, and the prez, Styx’s old man, needed me. He sent a prospect to watch my brother. I had no choice but to go. I was the Hangmen sniper. I was AK. I had to go.”
“What happened?” I caught the tremor of dread in her voice.
“He got free.” I closed my eyes. “He got out . . .”
“You heard from Bird?” Vike asked, talking about the prospect who was watching my brother.
“No.” I tightened my hand on the steering wheel. “He missed today’s check-in.” Flame shifted on the back seat, his knives in his hands. He was never away from me now. Me or Vike. Brother was completely fucked, but he was my brother now too. Fucked or not.
I pulled into the lodge’s driveway only to see the truck was gone. Ice filled my veins and a strange feeling crept down my spine. “Where’s Bird’s truck?” I jumped out of the truck we were in. Vike and Flame were right behind me. I held up my hand, slowly approaching the open front door.
