by Tillie Cole
“There’s Grace too.” He held tightly to my hand as his began to tremble. “I love that kid to death, but if anything happened to Li . . . I . . . I wouldn’t be any kind of father.” Ky leaned his head back against the swing. His skin was pale and blotchy from crying. His eyes were squeezed tight, as if he could escape all of what he was feeling if he just closed them. I laid my head on his bulky shoulder. “I get it now,” he said. I looked up, unsure what he meant. I met his tormented blue gaze with my own. “Poppa,” he said, and I felt my stomach flip over. “I get why you hated him like you did.”
I breathed through my nose. I didn’t trust myself to open my mouth for fear of what I might say about our late father. As hard as he was on Ky, I knew my brother loved him something fierce, even if he didn’t admit it.
“The way he was with Momma.” Ky shook his head. “The way he treated you.” He shook his head. “Now I have Lilah and Grace . . . and the new one on the way, I get it.” Ky turned and quickly kissed my head. “He was a shitty father, and a piece of shit to Momma.”
I exhaled, feeling a weight lift from me that I never knew I carried. Ky’s eyes closed again and more tears fell. “Hey.” I sat up, holding his arm. “It’s okay.”
Ky’s body slumped. “I can’t stop seeing her body in my mind, lying at the gate with a fucking bullet in her head and blood all around her.” A spear of pain shot through my heart.
Momma.
He was talking about our late momma.
“He didn’t let her in,” Ky whispered. “He was at the main door’s camera, laughing at her standing out there, trying to get in.” I froze. “I was a kid. What the fuck age was I? Six? Seven?” He shook his head. “I didn’t know it was Momma until after the bullet hit her and we all rushed outside. I just fucking ran with the brothers, following everything they did like always.” A pause. “The fucker had been telling any brother that would listen about how he would fuck her. How she would tell him she hated him, had left him when she was pregnant with you, yet would cave to him whenever he wanted . . . how he had the sweetest deal. Pussy on tap with her, and the sluts he had every night here.”
Rage like I’d never felt before swept through me.
“Then the bullet hit her.” Ky’s voice had turned cold. Deathly. “I was a tiny kid, but I remember everything about that night. The weather. Even how the air smelled after it had rained.” I clung to every word he said. Because I had no memory of our mother at all. “If he had just fucking opened that door straight away and listened to whatever she’d had to say, instead of bragging to the brothers, she wouldn’t have died.”
I couldn’t help it. I was tired and scared, and now so fucking mad that my head was pounding. A wretched sob left my mouth and a torrent of tears fell from my eyes. Ky had never spoken to me about that day. He never really spoke about Momma at all. I always thought it was because he didn’t remember her much.
My poppa only saw me a handful of times after Momma’s death before he died too. But to know he’d left my momma outside of the club, like a piece of shit, laughing at her . . . My aunt told me that although she’d left him, she hadn’t ever been able to let him go. She loved him. And she always took any scrap of affection he would give her.
The bastard took full advantage of it.
“I see them,” Ky said when my sobs had abated. I gripped him tightly. His cheek lay on my head. “At night . . . I see Lilah where Momma was, shot and bleeding from her head. Losing the baby and us losing her.” He sucked in a pained breath. “I see Grace . . .”
“Ky,” I whispered, now understanding why he’d been so down lately.
“And I see you,” he said finally. I slowly lifted my head. Ky’s bloodshot eyes were looking at me. “All this shit with Garcia. The Klan testing our fucking patience with their shit, and knowing Garcia has the Quintana cartel on his side . . . It’s all I fucking see, one of you dead. Just like Momma. And me, unable to do shit about it.” He sighed and leaned his head back. “You’re all I have, sis. Without y’all . . . what the fuck am I?”
“A good husband,” I countered. He needed to know that it was the truth. “A good father.” He closed his eyes. “And a damn good brother.” Ky looked down at me then. “I get it now. Why you wanted me here. To have those you love most in one place, where you could protect us.”
Ky nodded, but he didn’t speak. I knew he couldn’t. “You’re not him, Ky,” I assured him. “You love Lilah more than anyone I have ever seen. You took on Grace from a situation no one could comprehend, and that little girl is so happy. She adores you and you adore her.” I put my hand on Ky’s cheek and forced him to face me. “Lilah will be fine. You no doubt have the best medical care.” Ky exhaled, like he’d needed to hear those words. “And I will be fine.” I smiled and nodded my head in reassurance. “Hush and Cowboy will protect me. And if there’s any hint of danger, I’ll call. Check in on me whenever you want.” I hugged him tightly. “I’ll be fine. We all will. Have faith, big brother.”
I moved back to lean against the porch swing, but I kept hold of Ky’s hand. He smoked and finished his bourbon as the sun rose over the horizon. As the sky became a tapestry of oranges, reds and yellows, I released Ky’s hand and walked to the door. Just before I turned the doorknob, I looked at my brother, feeling like I understood him better. “Thank you. For letting me go home. For understanding that I need to.” I thought of Lilah, her sweet understanding nature. “And tell her, Ky. Tell Lilah how you’re feeling. Let her in. That woman is the strongest woman I know. She’ll be your rock, if you let her.”
Ky didn’t reply, but as I entered the kitchen I was sure I heard him say, “She already is.”
Depleted and drained from what Ky had said about my momma, I went back to bed to catch a couple more hours if I could. And when my head hit the pillow, it was to a silent prayer. A prayer that one day a man would love me as much as my brother loved Lilah. That I would feel that much for another person. Want him so badly that the mere thought of losing him brought me to tears. Because, even though love created wrecks of us all, it had to beat the barren wasteland that was utter loneliness.
Anything had to be better than that.
Chapter Four
Cowboy
I glanced over at Hush sitting beside me in the truck, staring out of the window. I tightened my grip on the wheel and shook my head. I’d known the fucker for years, and I still couldn’t believe how he refused to let anyone in but me. Since Ky had told us we were assigned to watch his baby sister, Hush had closed in on himself, as always. Fucking locked himself inside the head that was a damn fortress to breach. And I knew why, but the stubborn asshole was too proud to admit the truth.
I sighed, turning up the radio. But it took about two seconds for me to get bored. I was a loudmouth, I knew it, and the fucking deathly silence from my best friend was killing me. “You get the stuff I left out for you this morning?” I asked. I knew he had. I watched him pack it, just to be sure. I just wanted to fucking talk. Wanted my friend back to the way he was.
Hush’s shoulders tensed, but then he muttered, “Yeah.”
I sighed in defeat, laying my head back on the headrest. We were about five miles out from where Sia lived: a little ranch, in the middle of fucking nowhere. It reminded me of my childhood home. More rustic and less refined, but a ranch was a ranch.
“At least there’s a gas station close in case I need hard liquor during all this, hey, mon frère?”
Hush grunted, but he kept his head away from me. My fucking chest squeezed when I thought of his face this morning. My brother was dog tired. And I knew that shit wasn’t good for him. His face looked paler than normal, and his blue eyes were dull as fuck.
Set off a shit-ton of warning bells inside my head. He was thinking too much.
It was Sia.
All of this, the moping, the silence, was because of the beautiful bitch driving alone in the truck up ahead. Fuck, I could barely think of her without wanting to wrap my hand in her long ha
ir and pull her to my fucking mouth. Tasting her tongue, her tits pressed up against my chest. I looked at Hush from the side of my eye and knew the brother did too. Since we’d met her at Ky’s wedding, I knew on the spot I liked the bitch. Her damn sassy mouth, the confidence that oozed from her every move.
Her ass wasn’t too bad either.
My lip flicked up in amusement as I thought back to yesterday and the VP’s little “talk” he had with me and Hush . . .
“Shut the fucking door behind you.” Ky stood at the front of church, arms folded. Styx stood on his right, his face like thunder too. Hush was tense as he trailed behind. He shut the door. I slumped down to my seat and threw my hands up behind my head. I made myself real fucking comfortable.
Hush pulled his chair out. I smirked at his ramrod back as he stared at Ky, waiting for our VP to speak.
I brought my lazy gaze back to Ky and had to fight back a grin at how his eyes narrowed on me. “VP,” I said. “You wanted to talk to us?”
“Damn fucking right I did.” Ky leaned his hands on the tabletop, palms flat. “Neither of you are gonna go near Sia except to protect her.” Ky got straight to the point. I felt Hush grow more tense. I didn’t lower my hands from my head. I’d known this was coming.
“You watch her ranch. Take shifts in looking out for any trouble. Not an hour goes by when one of you ain’t looking for that cunt, Garcia. Got it?”
“Got it,” I confirmed, just before Hush said, “Yeah.”
Ky’s eyes locked on me. “She is my fucking sister. Not one of you two assholes touches her in any way, got it?” He quickly sobered, and then said, “She’s been through enough shit at the hands of a man. I ain’t gonna tell you the fucking minute details, but she was fucking ruined by that bastard. Ain’t even had a date since. She’s better on her own.” The cocky smirk I was wearing fell away at that bit of intel. Ky leaned further forward until he was almost at my face. “I will fucking kill anyone who hurts her again. And that ain’t a threat.” His eyebrows drew together. “And it sure as shit ain’t gonna be any of my club brothers. Especially the two sweet-talking Cajuns that have slut pussy creaming over their fucking accents on the daily.”
“Okay, VP,” I said in my thickest Cajun French. Just to see if I could turn Ky’s red face up a few shades more. I saw the guy’s hands roll into fists, but before he could start throwing them my way, Hush put his hand on my arm to tell me to shut the fuck up.
“Ain’t gotta worry about that, mon frère,” he said. “We ain’t going after your sister. We get it. She’s off-limits.”
Ky glared at us. As did Styx. Before Ky left church, he pointed in my face. “You better be listening to your best friend out there, Cowboy. You don’t wanna face me again if I hear you’ve been sniffing around my sister.”
I laughed to myself as I thought of the VP’s veins throbbing in his neck, as if he could read my thoughts about his sister on my face. Hush turned around, his brows pulled down. It was a permanent damn feature these days. “Turn that frown upside down, mon frère,” I instructed and pushed my fingers against his lined forehead.
Hush batted my hand away. “What the fuck are you laughing at?”
“Ky. Yesterday. His fucking tirade. The gris-gris he tried to put on our asses.”
Hush shook his head, exasperated. “We got it good here at the club. Don’t go fucking it up for a piece of pussy.”
I choked on a laugh. “A piece of pussy?” I winked. “Think I’ll tell Sia you said that when we pull up. Sure she wants to hear it.” Hush’s nostrils flared, and his hand went to his thigh and squeezed. It was how he calmed himself down. How I did if I saw it happening before he realized he was losing his shit. Especially in public.
I quickly lost my smile, and I blew out a long breath. “That’s it though, hey Val? She ain’t just any pussy, is she?”
Hush turned to look out of the window again. “She is, Aub. That’s what you can’t seem to get through your fucking thick skull.” He shook his head. “You just won’t let it fucking drop. All the winks and raised eyebrows, the damn tapping of your motherfucking Stetson anytime she’s mentioned or speaks to us. I told you before, and I’ll tell you again: I ain’t interested. Just end your fucking games.” His shoulders tensed. “You want her that bad? Fuck her. You want my written permission or some shit?”
“Fuck you, Hush.” I was a pretty laid-back guy, but him speaking like that raised my forever-dormant rage from a one to a good solid three out of ten. “You want me flying solo on this one, mon frère? It can be arranged.” He sat there, seething. I just let him. Fucking prick was as stubborn as an ox. First thing I ever noticed about him at sixteen years old.
I rolled my eyes at Hush’s continued silent treatment, and then caught Sia turning right. We traveled a few miles until we were absolutely in the middle of nowhere. She turned left, and fields of pasture protected by thick trees surrounded the truck on every side. I could see why Ky got her this place. From the road you would never know there was a ranch here.
A few miles later, a small house came into view. Fucking typical ranch style, with a wraparound porch. A barn and a training ring for horses were to the side of the property, along with fields and fields of green.
I breathed in the fresh air. Fucking loved places like this.
“Reminding you of the good old days?” Hush goaded with a still-shitty attitude. The brother had no love for where we were from, and especially my roots.
“Hush, I ain’t hit you since we were kids, but I’ll tell you now, you miserable bastard, if you don’t stop pushing me, I might just snap and be forced to flick your arm . . . and I’ve been told my flicks leave a real a good sting.” I waited, a shit-eating grin spreading on my lips. And I called it a big fucking win when I saw his cheek twitch and his lip curl slightly at the side.
“Careful, mon frère,” I playfully warned, opening the door. “Looks like you might be about to smile. Ain’t a good look when you wear that brooding-handsome-bastard look so well.” I held his stare. “Sia’s been getting off on that shit. Can’t take her eyes off you . . . and, of course, me. But that’s just part of my pretty-boy looks and Cajun charm.”
I jumped out of the truck and saw a pair of long jean-clad legs climb out of the truck in front. Sia slid down onto the gravel driveway, her blue plaid shirt tied at the waist and her long curly hair flicked over her shoulder like a fucking siren.
“Nice place you got here, cher,” I said. Sia smiled my way, her blue eyes catching mine.
Her gaze ran over the property, and the expression on her face changed from the one she’d worn this morning when we set off from the club to . . . fucking peaceful, I would say. Relaxed . . . my favorite fucking bodily state. “Yeah,” she breathed. “It’s home.”
Sia turned and reached over the console to grab her purse. I knew I shouldn’t have looked down—outlaw brothers’ code and all that—but I had no choice. I held onto the door tighter and fought back a groan when she reached her arms further forward, the shape of her tight ass fully on display. I looked over to my truck, catching Hush’s eyes. His arms were crossed over his chest. I winked and smiled—exactly what he’d just given me shit for in the truck.
I wasn’t gonna change for no one.
“I’ll take that for you, cher,” I offered when Sia brought her bag out of the cabin.
“Thanks, Cowboy.” She looked over my shoulder at Hush. Her eyes lowered and she sent him a nervous smile before heading inside her house. Hush caught up with me.
“She thinks you hate her,” I said as we made our way up the steps to the porch.
“I don’t hate her,” he replied, offering me nothing else. No shit he didn’t hate her. He liked her. I knew he liked her as much as I did.
Hush trailed behind me as we entered her house. Sia stood in the center of a living room. Two couches sat on either side of a coffee table, and an open fire took up the back wall, a chair beside it. “I’ve only got two bedrooms,” Sia said and ran her hand
over her forehead. “One’s mine, obviously.”
“We’ll share.” I placed her bag down on the floor. I stepped back and put my hand on Hush’s shoulder. “We ain’t shy with each other, right, Hush?”
“It’s fine,” he said. I shook my head at Sia and sent her a wink.
“In that case, it’s this way.” Sia led us upstairs to two doors. She opened one. “My room is there, just opposite,” she said and let us through. A large bed sat in the center.
I turned to Hush and flashed him a huge grin. “Big enough to cuddle you in, at least.”
Sia laughed, and then clapped her hands. “Well, I’ll leave y’all to unpack. I need to check on my horses.”
She had barely taken two steps when I said, “Wait up. I’ll come with you.”
Her smile fell and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “My brother tell you to do this? Never leave my side? Because I’ll tell y’all right now, that ain’t the way things are gonna go down here. You can be here. Sleep here. But I do what I want, when I want. I know this ranch better than anyone.” Her cheeks burned with anger.
I held my hands up. “Whoa, no, cher.” I pointed at my Stetson. “Ranch kid, remember? I know you don’t know much about me, but I told you I grew up around horses.”
Her eyes searched my face. Then her shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, you did.”
I leaned on the wall beside me and stopped myself from smiling when I saw her eyes flash to my bicep, then back to my wide chest. I flexed. Bitch left me no choice.
A flush coated Sia’s cheeks, and I said, “So? You gonna show me the goods?”
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. I stepped closer, and closer still, until I looked down into Sia’s big blue eyes. They were fucking huge at this proximity. “The horses, cher.”
Sia backed away, flustered. “It’s this way.” I fell into step beside her until we were out of the house. I heard footsteps from behind. When I turned, Hush was coming down the steps of the porch.
