“You have to agree to help Trace. That’s the only way I’m going with you. You help him with this… this… whatever it is.” I had to hand it to her. She was brave making demands after knowing what we were capable of.
My lips curled sardonically. “Why do you think I told you to pack?”
Without another word, I walked out.
The boys and I had plans to make.
“Heaven”—Blink 182
My head was spinning with the events of the night. It was like a surreal, macabre dream that I was waiting to wake up from.
After Jude left the room, I sat on the edge of the bed staring at my beautiful little boy. For not the first time, I was blown away at how much he looked like Jude as a boy. He was around the age his father had been when I first met him.
“My beautiful boy,” I whispered as I sifted his hair off his brow through my fingers.
Jude’s mother had been full-blooded Native American, while his father carried the name from his paternal lines yet was only about an eighth. Like his father, Trace had a beautiful light golden tone to his skin. Dark hair. Warm mocha eyes. He was destined to be as devastatingly handsome as his father when he grew up.
“How are we going to explain the years away to you, baby boy?” I asked his sleeping form. He’d rarely asked about his father. When he did, I’d told him he was a war hero. Honestly, I hadn’t known if it was true, and I never said he was dead. I simply didn’t say much at all.
Like the old soul he’d always been, Trace never asked if his father was alive. Maybe deep down he knew more than I did. With a sigh, I stood up and went to do as Jude had said.
It didn’t take long to get my bag together.
The entire time I packed, I could hear the group of men quietly talking in my kitchen where they’d taken over my table as a meeting room of sorts. As I passed the doorway to go to Trace’s room, dark brown eyes rose to lock on mine. I hated how a simple look from him could send my heart into a tailspin.
He shouldn’t still have that effect on me. More importantly, I shouldn’t let him have that effect on me.
Not after the past almost eight years of nothing from him. No phone calls, no emails, nothing. Even if he didn’t know about Trace, we’d had the reconnection after his mother’s funeral.
It wasn’t my imagination that the feelings had still been there. Unless it was all one-sided.
Telling myself I’d work on keeping myself in check where Jude was concerned, I quickly packed a bag for my son. At the top, I stuffed the velvety purple frog that had seen better days. Though in many ways he was an old soul, Trace was also still a little boy. He’d found the frog in one of my childhood boxes when he was about three and had latched on to it. He still slept with it if he didn’t have friends over.
I’d never told him his father had bought it for me.
Oh God. What am I doing? Taking him away from the only home he’s ever known in the middle of the night? His friends, everything that’s safe and familiar.
All to have a father who was a murderer teach him to control the insanely unbelievable gift he’d inherited from him. Talk about a seriously fucked-up situation.
Needing to get control of my shit, I sat on the edge of his bed with the airplanes all over the comforter. With my elbows resting on my knees, I buried my face in my hands.
How was I supposed to know if I was doing the right thing? How was I supposed to know what the right thing was?
“We have a lot to discuss, Korrie, but I’m not going to let anything hurt him.” The honey-rich sound of his voice both startled me and sent my insides through an emotional blender.
“I’m more worried about you hurting him,” I admitted, yet I didn’t speak the rest of my thoughts. And me was the rest of that thought. Because I was afraid he still had the power to hurt me in an irreparable way.
The shock on his beautiful face sent a pang through my chest.
“I’d never hurt him!” he argued. Fire flashed in his eyes.
“Not physically maybe,” I conceded as a chunk of my hair fell over my eyes. Using the band on my wrist, I pulled it up and secured it in a messy wad on my head then stood. “So we’re clear, the only reason we’re going with you is because I never expected that Trace would inherit his father’s abilities. The last thing I want is for him to become some freak in a sideshow, a pawn in the world of government, or a medical science experiment. But once we know he’ll be okay, we’re coming home. We’ll be out of your life again. Just the way you wanted it. He doesn’t even need to know you’re his father.”
Trying to rein in my emotions, I snatched the bag from the bed, zipped it up, and headed for the door.
Before I could push past him to return to Trace, he snagged me and pulled me against the firm planes of his body.
“The first thing you need to get through your head is that you don’t call the shots. The second thing you need to realize is he’s going to know he’s my son. The last thing you need to know, and listen closely”—he leaned in to whisper in my ear—“you’re not coming back here.”
Shocked didn’t begin to describe what his words did to me. Except it was more than his words. It was the way his lips lingered against the curve of my ear as he said them. The familiar ache that filled me at being against him. An ache that began to chip away at the shell of hate I’d erected around my heart, sending cracks that weakened any defense I had against him.
“Don’t play with me. I’m not one of your whores,” I spat in desperate self-preservation. Anything to make him let me go.
“Funny. Because you seem to be good at fucking me, then running away.” The pain that stabbed through my chest at his hateful words made my breath catch.
I wasn’t stupid, but my mouth wouldn’t be still.
“I know we were both hurt by my mother’s actions when I was fifteen. But it’s unfair of you to imply that what happened after your mother’s funeral was my fault. You left that time. Then rejected me and your son when I reached out to you.”
“Goddamn it, I didn’t send that email. I already told you that. Obviously you didn’t believe me. I’ve never used that email in my life. Where did you send the letter?” he asked with his face still pressed to the side of my head.
“I gave it directly to your father,” I ground out, daring him to deny it. Though I knew he and his father didn’t have a good relationship when he was growing up, he never said why. His wife’s death seemed to have made him different, and he’d been downright kind when he made me his promise. “He said he’d send it to you.”
Jude groaned and he burrowed his hand into my hair. He nuzzled into my hair before his lips kissed my neck. “So much time wasted,” he muttered as his mouth continued to tease me.
With heavy reluctance, I pushed him away from me. I wasn’t sure if I could believe what he was saying, no matter how much I wanted to.
I knew myself too well, and I knew that if he teased me enough, touched me enough, I’d fall for him all over again. Despite the hurt he’d left me with years ago when he’d rejected his son.
And me.
There was no way I could survive that again.
Trace was quietly excited as he watched out the window. His hand gripped mine tightly from our first-class seats as the plane continued to climb. It was the first flight he’d ever been on, and he was in heaven. His love of all things airplanes might’ve had something to do with that.
“Mom, look!” He pointed at the rapidly shrinking town of Louisville below us. With a patient smile, I leaned over him and pretended to be as fascinated as he was. Inside, my nerves were zinging at the proximity of the man who sat across the aisle from me.
It was crazy, but I could feel his eyes on us.
Trace was probably more adaptable than I was, because when he woke and I told him we were flying to Iowa, he simply shrugged. Then he grinned and asked if we were going to see Grandpa while we were there.
Once we were at a cruising altitude, it didn’t take long before
he was out like a light. It made me wonder if I’d done the right thing in letting him heal Jude. What if it did permanent damage to him? Did it make me a bad mother? I’d simply seen it as the only way to ensure Jude taught his son what he needed to know to protect him.
“That’s normal.” The deep timbre of his voice sent chills through me.
“What is?” I asked, distracted by the effect he was having on me.
“His sleeping a lot… after.”
My gaze shot in his direction, and my brow furrowed. “How long will it last?”
He shrugged, and it reminded me so much of Trace. Not only did they look alike, they had many of the same mannerisms. I wondered how long it would be before Trace questioned everything to do with Jude. “Depends.”
“On?”
“It’s not an exact science after the first onset. That usually lasts three days after the first, uh….” He paused as he glanced around to see if anyone was listening. “You know. After that, each episode is variable. The older he gets, the less traumatic yet still draining. Initially, I’d guess the lingering effects would be about a day.”
I glanced over my shoulder to see the older lady behind me had her eyes closed, but there was no telling if she was actually sleeping.
“Mmm,” I replied.
“We’re going to figure everything out, Korrie.” It was said quietly, and I wondered exactly what he was referring to. Trace and I didn’t need anyone, but the thought that he meant we would figure out how to be a family made me all bubbly and stupid inside.
“My mother is going to find out we left,” I murmured softly. He unbuckled and stood. Watching him curiously, I was surprised to see him reach over and unbuckle me. Visions of him taking me to the bathroom to join the mile-high club flashed through my dirty mind.
“What are you doing?” I whispered furiously.
“Get up, I’m going to help you stretch him out across the seats so he’s more comfortable, then I want you to sit by me to talk so the entire plane can’t hear us.” His patient explanation as he smirked made my cheeks flush, because it was like he’d read my mind.
We did as he offered, and once I settled in next to him, my heart was nearly exploding through my chest wall. When he tipped his head close to mine and the scent of his cologne hit me, I leaned in slightly and almost whimpered.
Snap out of it! What the fuck is wrong with you? You are a strong, independent woman! Stop acting like a lovesick teenager!
My pep-talk to myself wasn’t working.
“Are you okay?” he asked and gave a half smile when I choked on my muttered response.
“Did you develop any other, uh, gifts over the years?” I whispered with narrowed eyes.
His head canted, and his hair fell boyishly over his brow. Out of instinct, I lifted my hand to brush it back, but froze and curled my fingers in before dropping my hand to my lap.
“What other gifts would I have?” His husky, mesmerizingly delicious voice spilled over me. Everything he did was playing havoc on my senses. When my head tipped in the opposite direction so my lips could fit with his, I jolted back and cleared my throat.
A deep breath ended in a shuddering exhale as I tried my damnedest to collect myself. His chuckle ruffled my hair and spilled across my cheek, destroying the progress I’d made with my wayward emotions.
Jude Bearheart was my greatest weakness, even after everything.
“It feels like you can read my mind,” I muttered. He chuckled as his perfect lips curled into a sardonic smile.
“No, but what I wouldn’t give to be able to do that right now.” He chewed on his lower lip as his eyes bored into me, making me squirm in my seat. He was too much. Too intense. Too alluring. I wanted to climb in his lap and do things I shouldn’t. Damn him.
“You wanted to talk,” I prompt, waiting for him to tell me what he wanted to discuss. Instead of leaning back in his seat, he seductively trailed his nose along the shell of my ear before whispering to me.
“I never saw the letter, and I sure as hell didn’t reply to a letter I didn’t see. Someone fucked us over. We’re going to fix that.”
I startled. “Fix it how?”
“I don’t appreciate my life being fucked with,” he said with gritted teeth. “Stealing my son from me is the lowest thing someone could do.”
I was startled at his vehemence. “Jude, you left. Not once in the past seven plus years have you tried to contact me. Regardless of whether you knew about Trace or not.”
The internal battle he was fighting was apparent in his troubled brown eyes before he leaned back in his seat and closed them. For a moment, I thought he was done talking. Then he spoke softly. So softly, I had to sit up in my seat and lean toward him to hear.
“By then, you deserved so much better than me. No matter my job was a medic in the army, there were too many times I had to let my brothers die because there was too much damage to repair. For some of them, I could’ve slowed it down, but for what? For them to suffer longer? I knew they weren’t going to make it—perks of the gift. Then the time that we were ambushed and I killed countless men during that horrible six hours.” He took a shuddering breath. “I was a healer, yet I killed without remorse.”
Instinctively, I reached out and clasped his large hand in mine. “Jude. Surely you can’t blame yourself for that. You were in a combat situation. I can only imagine it was life or death.”
He opened his eyes and turned my direction. It put our faces close enough that his breath feathered across my cheek. “And after I got out and joined the Bastards?”
“But they call you Angel,” I argued.
He gave a humorless laugh as his dark eyes locked with mine. “Because I’m the Angel of Death.”
“Angel Without Wings”—Saving Abel
I could see in her eyes when what I said clicked with her.
“Lester?” she asked in a shaky whisper. I’d have given anything for her not to look at me like I was a monster. Yet I wouldn’t base anything between us on lies. She needed to know what she was getting with me, but I wasn’t losing her again. I’d figure it out.
Seeing her again after so long only drove home how much my soul had been shriveling up and dying without her. Because in that split second before she shot me, and every second since, I had a light blooming within me.
“I’ll explain more when we land and I can talk freely, but understand that he had that coming in more ways than you could possibly know.”
She snorted in disgust, and my heart cracked a little. What if she couldn’t handle what we did? What I did for a living?
“There isn’t much you could tell me that I wouldn’t believe,” she said with a curl to her lip.
“Then why were you still working for him?”
She sighed in defeat. “My mother.”
Hearing her say that made me clench my jaw in anger. “Explain.”
It was her turn to glance around to see if anyone was listening. Satisfied we were somewhat cocooned, she palmed her face briefly, then stared at me.
“My mother had political ambitions. I’m not sure if you remember.”
I nodded, as I did remember she’d been an attorney and a city councilwoman when we were kids. After they left and I couldn’t find Korrie, I hadn’t thought much about her mother other than how much I despised her.
“She had befriended Senator Damon when she won the election for the Kentucky House of Representatives. Personally, I think she made a deal with him to win that election. Then as soon as she found out I was pregnant, she wanted me to have an abortion or give him up for adoption.” Her lower lip quivered as she picked at an invisible thread on her pants.
“Why?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.
“Because he was yours,” she whispered as a tear slid down her cheek. I reached out to catch it before it dripped off her jaw. Using my thumb and finger, I rubbed it into my skin. I had no clue why her mother always hated me so much.
“What changed?”
A deep breath raised her chest before she sharply exhaled. “I made a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Dread churned in me.
“Lester’s father set him up as the mayor. My mother told me she would allow me to keep my son if I agreed I would work for Lester and cover up his indiscretions. If I didn’t, she would report me as unfit and have Trace taken from me.”
“Surely you could’ve fought that. She’d have to have proof.”
“Do you have faith in that? Because I don’t. I’ve seen the ugly, crooked underbelly that exists in everything, including politics. If people have enough money or know the right people, they can make anything happen. They can also make anything or anyone disappear.” Her jaw clenched and her eyes hardened as she looked me in the eye. “No one was taking my son from me. I would and still will do anything to keep him and keep him safe.”
Deep in my guts, I knew she was right. After all, it was what made our club very rich. When people like Lester Damon continued to get away with their evil and someone with enough money got sick of it or burned by them, we tipped the scales.
We handed out the justice that the system wouldn’t.
I didn’t fault Korrie one iota for being willing to do whatever it took for our son. Because I’d known about him for less than twenty-four hours, and I knew nothing would come between us.
“That doesn’t explain why she’d want to help him,” I continued, yet the pieces were beginning to fall together.
“That’s why I think Senator Damon helped her. She’d owe him. It’s all I can think of.”
Without proof, I still knew in my heart she was right. “Well, you’ll both be safe with us. No one will ever hurt either of you.”
The sadness I read in her soft eyes put me on the defensive immediately.
“Jude—Angel, we can’t stay.”
“Why the fuck not? What do you have to go back to there?” I was angry at the thought of her not wanting to stay and of her taking my son from me. Especially when I’d just found out about him.
Angel: RBMC: Ankeny IA Page 7