by Tillie Cole
We both spun around to see an older woman with graying blond hair and blue eyes . . . eyes exactly like Hush’s. And like Hush, one of them was ringed with a bruise.
“Hey, Mrs. Moreau,” I greeted. She spared me a glance, but her eyes only wanted Hush. I felt my brother tense, and I knew what he was seeing. He was seeing his mother, as she would have been when she was older. Mrs. Moreau came into the room. Her walk was laborious, the result of her stroke years ago. Her mouth on one side tilted slightly down. But that didn’t stop her from getting to her grandson.
Hush’s hand, still holding the gun, shook. Slowly, he lowered it. Just as he did so, Mrs. Moreau’s hand moved to her mouth and a weak sob escaped from her throat. She stopped at Hush’s feet, looking up at him. She was a small woman; he towered over her. Tears tracked down her cheeks. By Hush’s reaction, I didn’t think he was far from breaking down himself.
“Valan?” she whispered, her Swedish tongue effortlessly wrapping around the name.
Hush’s mouth parted. He nodded. I looked at her bare arm and saw bruise after faded bruise. Looked like Moreau was even more of a cunt than we knew.
Mrs. Moreau’s hand fell from her mouth and moved to Hush’s cheek. Her hand trembled, as did her voice when she said, “You look just like her.” Her fingers walked to the side of his bruised eye. She didn’t even mention that my friend was battered and bruised. All she could see was Hush, and through him, her daughter.
“He took her from me,” she whispered, her voice cutting out. “He never told me whether you were alive or dead.” Her eyes squeezed shut. When they opened, she said, “I never cared.” Hush’s gaze widened. “I didn’t care who she married . . . I just wanted her to be happy.” She sobbed and turned away. When she’d got her shit together, she said, “And I never got to meet my lovely grandson.” She smiled, her hand still on Hush’s face, like she couldn’t take it away.
Hush was as still as a statue, until he lifted his hand and gently held her wrist. “Nice to meet you . . . Mormor.”
Mrs. Moreau fell apart on hearing those words and wrapped her arms around Hush. She looked tiny clinging to Hush’s waist. Hush’s eyes closed, then he hugged her back. His cheeks twitched, his lips tightened . . . then I saw a tear fall down his cheek. He held her tighter, and I could see he was struggling not to break down completely.
I moved to stand by the wall, keeping eyes on any movement from the house. I only looked back when Mrs. Moreau said, “I knew you’d come back one day. It was fate. One cannot do something so heinous and not have it come back on them.” I got the impression she was talking about more than the fire. She looked at her husband, and an ice-cold expression came over her face. “But you must go.” She ran her hand down Hush’s face. “An intruder came in, trying to get into our safe.” She righted her hair. “I was upstairs when he shot him. I was hiding, then came down to find him here, dead.”
Hush took a few shaky breaths, then nodded his approval. “We’d better go,” I urged. Hush couldn’t take his eyes off his grandmother. He was locked in the moment. “Val?”
He finally looked at me and nodded. As he moved past his grandmother, she said, “When all of this has blown over . . . I would very much like to see you.”
Hush stopped dead, took a deep breath, then turned around. “I’d like that.” My chest fucking cracked for him.
“And you must come back and see your mother,” she said. Hush stilled. More tears spilled from Mrs. Moreau’s eyes. “She’s in our garden.” Hush nodded, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to speak, knowing he was walking on the same ground as his mamma. As if that wasn’t enough for the brother to hear, she said, “And I will also take you to see your father.”
Hush turned slowly. “What?” he whispered in disbelief.
His grandmother stepped toward him. “He never knew,” she said confidently, gesturing to Moreau slumped on the desk. “But I paid the coroner behind his back. I had some savings he never knew about.” She smiled a sad smile. “I was saving in secret to go back to Sweden . . . hoping to find Aia, your father, and you first and take you all with me. To start a new life away from him. But . . .” She trailed off. We all knew the end. “When his remains were recovered, and my husband refused to give him a grave, I paid for one in secret.” Her breathing hitched and her voice grew hoarse. “I knew my daughter, and I knew she loved that man more than life itself. They should have been laid to rest together, but I couldn’t . . . he would’ve . . .”
Her head dropped, no doubt in shame, but Hush was across the room in no time, hugging the old woman to his chest. “Thank you,” he whispered, then said something to her in Swedish I didn’t understand. Mrs. Moreau sobbed and held her grandson close. “I am so sorry, Valan,” she cried. “I am so sorry he did what he did. I miss my girl . . . I miss her so much. Like half of my heart has been taken.” She pulled back and smiled a weak smile. “But seeing you today . . . how much you look like her . . . has given life to my soul.” She laughed. “You are so beautiful, gullunge.”
Eventually Hush pulled away, placing a kiss on his grandmother’s forehead. She sighed. “Now go. Leave town to wherever you live now. Get far away and don’t look back. I will not let you be punished for something that was very much deserved.”
I took hold of Hush’s elbow and led him from the house. We ran, Hush looking back to see his grandmother on the porch watching us go. We got back in the truck, and I quickly pulled onto the drive. Hush watched the house and his grandmother until they both faded from view.
“You good?” I asked as we joined the road that would lead us back to Sia.
Hush released a long exhale. I’d always thought that Hush had taken a deep inhale when his parents died. I guess I didn’t realize that until now, with the heavy sigh slipping from his lips, he had never breathed out.
Hush turned to me, a road light illuminating his face. “Let’s go get our Sia.” He smiled as he sat back against the seat. He stared at the road ahead. “I wanna go home.” But then he frowned, something clearly still on his mind. “What about your folks?”
Hatred, thick and pure, ran through my blood. “They’re dead to me,” I said and saw Hush close his eyes for a brief moment. When they were open again, I gave him a wink and my trademark wide smile, tipped the front of my Stetson, and said, “Let’s get home, mon ami . . . let’s get the motherfuck home.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sia
I pulled my truck in front of Lilah and Ky’s cabin. My hands squeezed tightly on the wheel. I hadn’t spoken to my brother since Mexico. We hadn’t had a chance to talk at the Diablos’ place in Laredo, and then I came straight home with Hush and Cowboy and had been with them ever since.
I wasn’t sure if he was still pissed at me. But I needed to speak to him. After Louisiana. After seeing Hush so broken over his family, then so different . . . happy. As he told me about his grandmother, all I’d been able to think of was Ky.
He was my only family.
The door to the cabin opened. Lilah narrowed her eyes as she tried to see who was at her door. The second she saw me, a wide relieved smile pulled on her lips. Nerves swarming in my stomach, I got out of the truck. “Hey girl,” I said and waved. I walked to the cabin, immediately hearing the other old ladies inside. Lilah pulled me to her harder than ever before.
“Hey,” I said softly and kissed her cheek. “I’m okay.” Lilah drew back her head and looked me over. Then she turned me around, and my heart started slamming against my ribs. I closed my eyes, bracing myself. I had worn a low-backed top on purpose. I wouldn’t be ashamed of my back any longer. Of the carving that, to many, was a sign of inferiority. I decided to take ownership of that shit and wear it with pride. And I wasn’t ashamed of the acid burns. It was time to embrace them as being a fucking part of me.
“I am very proud of you,” Lilah whispered. I turned and saw the scar on her face. The one that had given her a sense of peace only she could truly understand.
“Thank you.”
I took Lilah’s outstretched hand, and she led me into the house.
I rounded the corner and saw her sisters and Beauty and Letti. I waved again. “Sia!” Old lady after old lady came up to me, hugging me. I hugged them back, a huge lump in my throat. I sat down and observed these women. All different, from different walks of life, all sweet. It was funny; I’d always wanted to stay away from this club, firmly believing it to be a toxic hedonistic hell. But with these women, or at home with Hush and Cowboy—in our bed, doing fucking mundane tasks like cooking, riding—I realized I’d just been plain wrong.
Like I’d overheard Crow say when I was listening from the motel bathroom in Louisiana, it was a family. One I had missed, been denied.
No matter what Ky said, I wouldn’t let that shit happen anymore.
“How you doing, girl?” Beauty asked as she walked over to me. I liked Beauty. Out of all the old ladies, I felt a kinship with her. She’d seen some shit in life, but she was happy and filled with sass. She was my fucking inspiration.
Beauty checked around to see if anyone was looking. Not really giving two shits if they were. She took the coffee Lilah had just placed in my hand and poured in a couple of shots of bourbon from the hip flask she had hidden in her “Property of Tank” cut. I looked at Lilah to see her scowling. A loud laugh slipped from my lips.
“I’m good.” For the first time in a long time, I meant it. “It’s been one hell of a rough road, but I’m getting there.”
“And Hush and Cowboy?” Bella asked. I saw the sympathy in her eyes. Like me, she was with a man, or in my case, men, who the club had deemed traitors, or as going against the club’s rules. Yet she loved Rider to death. She loved him fucking proudly.
I smiled. “They’re good.” That was true too. Cowboy was his usual cocky self again, almost fully recovered from his injuries. Hush was still a little bruised and battered. But the biggest change in him had been . . . him. He was smiling and, fucking stealing my heart, he was talking.
He would always be quiet; that was just his nature. But he talked to me. They were always kissing me, making love to me . . . loving me. I’d never been so happy in my entire life. I only wished the club would welcome them back. There had been nothing but radio silence on that front since Mexico.
“They’ll come around.” I lifted my head. I’d been lost to my thoughts, eyes fixed on the coffee in my hand. Mae had been the one to talk. She was cradling her belly, rubbing her pronounced bump. It wouldn’t be long before Styx became a father.
Styx as a father. I was still trying to wrap my head around that. I gave a weak smile. “I hope so.” I looked out of the window, looking out for any sign of Ky. “They belong to this club. It’s their life.” A sudden protective rush of anger took over me. “Just because they’re with me shouldn’t mean jack shit. So fucking what? I want both of them. Love both of them. Who cares? Why should anyone care as long as they treat me right? And they do. So fucking good. I can’t believe how lucky I am.” I stopped talking when I felt my blood pressure rise. I laughed without humor. My voice went croaky, but I still managed to say, “I love them. So fucking much it hurts. I . . . I don’t wanna be the reason their club, their family, the reason they live, gets taken from them.”
The room was silent, until a small voice said, “You asked me weeks ago what it felt like.” I lifted my head to see Maddie across the room. She had a flush on her cheeks, her green eyes wide from being in the spotlight. “What it felt like being with Flame.” A small smile echoed on her lips, one that made my heart fucking swell in my chest. “Peace.” She sighed and gently nodded. “I cannot describe it as anything other than peace. With him, together, I am at peace after years of being so desperately unhappy.”
Maddie got up from her seat and came across the room. She hesitated as she reached for my hand. Then she laid her palm over the back of my hand and squeezed. “If that is how your men make you feel, then you must fight for them.” Her huge green eyes bored into mine. “What is love anyway? It is never simple, and never plays by exactly the same rules as for other people who are in love also. Mine and Flame’s love may, to many, seem unusual. But he saved me.” Her breathing hitched. “And I saved him. If you have saved your men and your men have saved you, then you belong together.”
“Thank you,” I said, my eyes shimmering and bottom lip trembling with gratitude. Maddie returned to her seat. Mae held her hand and squeezed.
Beauty slapped her chair. “And fuck, darlin’, it’s the friggin’ twenty-first century! Tell the club to get out of the fucking dark ages and join the new dawn where”—she mock gasped—“a woman can be with two men.” She covered her mouth and put on her best southern-belle accent. “Oh, my Lord! May you strike my ménage-à-trois ass down where I stand.” She rolled her eyes. I laughed. “Stick with your Cajuns.” She waggled her eyebrows. “They’re gorgeous. Many a bitch would wanna be wedged between those hard chests.”
“For us,” Phebe said and gestured to the ladies who’d survived the cult, “the idea of one man and one woman was actually more shocking than what you are living. Love is subjective, no?” She smiled. “I would say that this life is very different from the world outside these Hangmen lands. We are already living an alternative way of life. Your love life is not that strange within these walls.”
“And it helps that the brothers, and bitches like me, would literally kill anyone who had an issue with it.” I laughed at Letti when she shrugged like killing someone was just a daily occurrence in her life.
Beauty seconded her comment by singing, “Hallelujah, sister!”
“Sia?” The sound of Ky’s voice behind me made me jump. I turned to see my brother standing in the doorway.
I got to my feet. “Hey.” I dropped my eyes. I didn’t know what the hell else to say. It was as awkward as shit.
The room was silent. Then, “Come with me.” I lifted my head to see Ky walking out of the cabin. I glanced back at Lilah. She gave me an encouraging smile.
I walked out of the door. Ky was getting on his bike. He tapped the saddle. “Get on, sis.” I climbed on the back of the bike, inhaling the smell of leather. It always reminded me of Ky. When I was younger, he would take me out for rides on his bike. Sometimes for hours, just out on the open road.
We rode around the mass of Hangmen acres until we came to a stream. Ky back-heeled the kickstand and killed the engine. I got off the bike and stretched my arms and legs. Ky sat on the bank of the stream. The sound of the trickling water was soothing as I took my place beside him.
Before we even said a word, Ky turned me to look at the bottom of my neck. I heard the small angry sound that left his throat. I pulled back and got my retaliation in first. “I’m not ashamed.” I met my brother’s furious eyes. “I’m proud to be with him.”
Ky blew out a long breath from his nose. He ducked his head and ran his hands through his long blond hair. When he lifted his head, he remarked, “Fucking two of them, Sia?” I had to keep my mouth from pulling into a smirk. Because there was no malice in his tone. Ky looked at me from the corner of his eye. He shook his head. “I will say that they fucking took up for you.” I listened as I watched a duck land on the stream. “Cowboy, defending you until he was taken too.” He took a deep breath. “And Hush . . .” He laughed. “Came in here like Hades himself, demanding we go after you.” He tensed, then said, “Told me I didn’t want you to be with them because he was black. Or mixed race or whatever the fuck he said.” I closed my eyes, imagining what must have been going through Hush’s head. “Told him it wasn’t. Couldn’t give two shits about that.” Ky clenched his fists. “It’s the thought of those fuckers double-teaming you that makes me see red.”
“Ky!” I sputtered and slapped his arm.
“What?” he continued in all seriousness. “You’re my baby fucking sister. Now you’re in bed with not one but two brothers, who quite honestly could be fucking each other too. All I see in my head whenever you three are mentioned is a conga line of pussy, cocks an
d assholes. It’s fucking with my head!”
“Ky, I fucking love you. But you ever bring shit like this to me again, and I’m gonna cut off your tongue when you sleep.”
“You can’t do that, sis.” He shrugged. “Li couldn’t live without this tongue.” I rolled my eyes and made a gagging sound. Ky put his hand on my wrist. “Seriously. I’ll never mention the conga line again if you never make that sound. Now I got a fucking soundtrack of what you’re like sucking dick.”
I laughed, and it felt real fucking good when Ky laughed too. I laid my head on his shoulder, the leather scent drifting into my nose. I’d missed this. I hated being on the outs with him. “How’s Lilah?”
I looked up to see Ky smile. “She’s better. Fucking strong.” He ran his hands over the thighs of his jeans. “She had a blood test last week. She’s early in her pregnancy, but they wanted to check for a shitload of things.” He cleared his throat. “Asked if we wanted to know what we were having.” My eyes widened. He blew out a long breath, then added, “She’s having a boy.” I snapped my head up, smiling big. “And a girl.”
My mouth dropped. “Twins?”
“Yeah. Li said they run on her father’s side,” he breathed, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Another fucking girl. I’ll be gray before I’m thirty-five.” His head fell into his hands. “And a boy. Shit,” he said. “I can only imagine the fucking slut that kid’s gonna be.”
I nudged his arm. “Well, you are his father.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “And with an aunt fucking two men, he’s gonna think he’s entitled to all the pussy he can get.”
I breathed out, then said seriously, “Ky? What are you gonna do about Cowboy and Hush and the club?”
