The Fall of V (The Henchmen MC Book 13)

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The Fall of V (The Henchmen MC Book 13) Page 15

by Jessica Gadziala


  The older she got, the more involved we seemed to get. Training and teaching her things.

  I couldn't say how many times I had walked into the room to hear her talking to Cash about the music back in his day, and seeing the taken aback look on his face at realizing music he had listened to at her age was now considered classic.

  I would come in from work to find the two of them eating pizza straight from the box while watching action movies on the couch.

  And each time I saw them together, I got a little squeeze in my chest.

  I couldn't fathom never seeing that again, never feeling that again.

  She had to come back.

  Not just for Reign and Summer whose worry I could only begin to understand, but for me and Cash, and Wolf and Janie, Malc, everyone whose life she had been a part of - and bettered for her presence alone.

  The stairs behind me creaked as Chris came down, making Cash and I break apart.

  "We both have things to handle," I said, watching as he smiled at my Hailstorm-voice. "We can be mushy and feel shit later."

  "Yeah," he agreed, leaning in to kiss my forehead. "Keep your phone charged."

  I nodded as he ran off, watching for a second before turning back into the house, finding Chris standing there, watching me with guarded, but curious, eyes.

  "Is that your husband?"

  "Cash? Yes. He's Ferryn's uncle," I added.

  "Is Ferryn okay?"

  This was a time when maybe others would sugar-coat it, or lie altogether.

  But that had never really been my style.

  Women - even severely traumatized women - were a hell of a lot stronger than anyone gave them credit for.

  "We don't know," I told her, closing and locking the door behind me. "She just... ran away."

  "She's okay," Chris said, conviction seeping into her voice, making her words firm, unyielding, inarguable. "She's strong," she added when I said nothing. "If she ran, she has a reason. And I think she can take care of herself."

  She wasn't wrong.

  Ferryn had a lot of life skills.

  From surviving less than ideal situations to navigating modern life things like how to ride buses and trains by herself, you named it, someone had thought of teaching her.

  Just in case.

  There were always so many 'just in cases' in our lives.

  And Ferryn, the oldest, the oldest girl, had gotten far more individualized attention than likely any other kid on the planet.

  She would be okay, technically.

  But would she be okay mentally?

  Emotionally?

  Where would she sleep at night when she was too young to rent a room?

  I guess it was one of those things that time would tell.

  "They never took her," Chris said, snapping me out of my swirling thoughts. "At least... not like me," she hedged, not there yet, not ready to say the words.

  It felt wrong to feel relief, standing here with a girl just the same age, just the same amount of innocent, but there was no denying it. Whatever she had to face up for herself, that was not a part of it.

  "They just took her up earlier today. And she came back a few hours later with her wrists torn up, some bruises, but not.... broken. If anything, she seemed almost, I don't know, triumphant. I didn't get it at the time. But as he was coming to take me, she had a key to unlock her shackle. She grabbed the toilet tank cover. And then she knocked him out. Freed me. And we ran."

  I nodded at that, walking past her, holding out an arm in invitation as I went into the kitchen. "Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?"

  "Tea," she told me, sounding surprised.

  "That woman," I started as I poured water into the pot, as I found teabags, "she was Ferryn's grandmother." I chanced a look over, finding her watching me, eyes penetrating, but saying nothing. "She didn't know. V had been locked up for all of Ferryn's life because she had once tortured Ferryn's mom. It's a long story. If you want all those details sometime, I can give you them. But they're not important. But V wanted, well, we don't know what she wanted when she took Ferryn. To use her as leverage, maybe."

  "She killed her own grandmother."

  "You know that phrase, Chris, about blood being thicker than water?"

  "Yeah."

  "The funny thing is... everyone has that saying wrong. It is actually 'the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,' which is exactly opposite of what everyone thinks. Sharing blood, sharing DNA with someone... it doesn't mean anything. The bonds we form out of love we choose from the people we choose are the strongest bonds. I don't think Ferryn was looking at it quite so much like she was killing her grandmother, but more like she was killing someone who threatened her and someone she cared about."

  "You mean me? She barely knew me."

  "Maybe. But I know Ferryn. And she has a strong moral compass. She has a giant heart. She would never have let something happen to you because of her. Not if she could do anything in her power to stop it. So she did."

  "I could have stopped her," Chris said, voice hollow. "When she grabbed me? I could have done something. I didn't."

  "Look at me," I demanded, tone a little firm because she needed it. "Ferryn has had something like eleven years of training from experts in many fields. You, I would wager, are just a normal girl from a normal life. How could anyone expect you to know how to handle a situation like that?" She nodded a bit, swallowing hard. "If you want, I can teach you."

  "Teach me?"

  "How to react in a situation like that," I clarified. "I don't know if you know what Hailstorm is, but I run it. I also own a gym that teaches self-defense. I can teach you. We can teach you. If you want that," I added. "And, you know, if your parents would allow it," I finished, remembering what Cash had said.

  "I don't have any family," she whispered as I turned to flick off the stove, pour the steaming water. I turned back at that, arm aloft with the teapot still. "My mom died. I was in the system when... when they took me."

  "For a long time?" I asked, putting the pot down, then turning fully to her.

  "Long enough to know it was not the same as a real family."

  "Fair enough. I'm sorry about your mom, Chris. And I know everything is overwhelming now, but I need to ask you something."

  "Okay?" she said, feet shuffling, thumb from one hand stroking across the surface of the one on the other.

  "Where do you want to go from here?"

  "I don't think I understand the question."

  "You're a child still. Technically. There needs to be a plan for your future."

  "I can't go back. In the system. Not after..."

  "Okay," I agreed, nodding.

  Her head turned away, looking out the back window at the streaks of dawn creeping across the sky in the distance.

  "You said you could train me."

  "Yes."

  "Can you... can I just... stay here?" she asked, each word its own sentence, dragged down by her fear of rejection, her uncertain future if I said no. "Just until I can figure something else out," she added.

  "I have a husband," I started.

  "You'd need to ask him," she cut me off.

  I chuckled a bit at that, never having quite gotten used to the idea of having to check with anyone. Not even after all these years. But then again, there had never really been any of those 'big decisions' for us. We didn't have kids. We didn't have pets because our schedules were so unpredictable. So what was there to really 'check with' him about? The color of the bedspread?

  Well, okay.

  I should have checked with him about the bedspread.

  But when you found a floral one that spoke to your soul, you just had to buy it, right? To hell with the consequences.

  At least they're not pink and purple. That was what he said when he came home to see it, throwing the blanket back, then breaking it in with me.

  "I was thinking more that... I know men might be an issue for you right now," I said carefully.

  "Not a
ll men are bad," she said just as carefully.

  "Look at me," I demanded, waiting for her to do so. "I can guarantee you that Cash would never lay a hand on you. I would bet my life on it."

  She nodded a bit at that, swallowing hard.

  "Okay," she agreed, making a tugging sensation start in my chest, in my heart. "His name is really Cash?"

  "Legally," I agreed with a smile.

  She waited a beat, nodding her head a little.

  "He's too old for his haircut," she declared, catching me off-guard, making me throw my head back and laugh.

  So that was how Cash and I became parents.

  To a teenager.

  --

  Cash

  Gunner was able to find hints of her, traces of blood from cut feet, but they suddenly disappeared right next to a bus stop.

  Hailstorm was on the bus situation.

  And, more useless than I had ever felt in my life, I asked Lo if it was safe to stop by, then made my way home to my woman.

  "Where is she?" I asked, walking in to find Lo sitting on the couch cross-legged, one of her books opened on her thigh like a bookmark.

  "Sleeping."

  "She has no family?" I asked, dropping down beside her.

  "Well... sort of."

  "How can you sort of have family?"

  Her face turned to me then, a face I knew so well that she often didn't even need to speak, I could just tell what was up by looking at her.

  But this was a look I was sure I had never seen before.

  It made her brown eyes bright, but not with amusement, not even pure happiness. It was something else. Something like hope and fear and tentative joy, a combination I had no way of interpreting.

  "Congratulations, Daddy... it's a girl?"

  I was equally lost hearing those words as I was trying to explain her expression.

  My system seemed assaulted all at once with a mixture of sensations.

  Confusion.

  Understanding.

  Fear.

  Anxiety.

  But underneath all of that, trapped somewhere so deep, I wasn't even sure it existed until right that moment, a need.

  It had been - for us - an easy decision not to have children. We could have tried. We could have attempted adoption. But that need had never been there. And if you didn't desire it more than you desired everything else in your life, well, then you had no business taking on a child.

  And it wasn't like we were lacking in the kid department. It seemed like every couple of months, someone was popping another one out. We were surrounded by baby giggles and Play-Doh, and Legos to step on, and Barbies to look at and genuinely sit and wonder if it was a sign of something bad that someone had painted the faces like death masks, or just kids being weirdos.

  I got to teach someone how to ride a bike.

  I got to be the designated court jester to an otherwise all-female kingdom.

  I got to play catch, kick a soccer ball, attend about a thousand school functions, birthday parties, spend thousands of dollars on toys every Christmas.

  It was like having kids, with the nice break of a full night of sleep, and the freedom of having wild, sweaty sex anywhere we wanted without having to worry about scarring kids for life.

  That was the life we had chosen.

  Happily, I might add.

  Without a single regret.

  But hearing that she didn't just want to do what she had done a dozen times before - take someone in at Hailstorm. Like she had with Janie once upon a time.

  She wanted to bring her home.

  With us.

  Yeah, that meant something more than I could put words to.

  "She knows about me, right?" I asked.

  "Yes. She's okay with it. She said she recognizes that not all men are like the ones she knew at V's place. Maybe a bit of a wide berth physically for a while would be wise, but I think engaging her would be smart. Maybe I will have Mina and Renny over for dinner in a week or so, let them get a feel for her, give us some direction."

  "Janie turned out great, baby," I reminded her, grabbing her book, carefully tucking a weekly advert between the pages because I knew she would flay me if I dog-eared the page, then tossing it on the coffee table, pulling her legs over my lap.

  "I just want to be sure," she insisted. "Janie seemed great, but struggled for a long time. Years. Not sleeping. Never getting involved with men. If Mina or Renny could give us some advice on how to avoid that, maybe she could be just a tad more well-adjusted."

  "Or meet her own Wolf someday," I suggested, knowing that had been a turning point. For her. For him. Never had I seen a love so capable of healing, a couple more suited.

  Lo snorted, rolling her eyes at me. "Love doesn't save people, Cash."

  "No?" I asked, raising a brow.

  "What did love save you from?" she demanded to know.

  I shrugged a shoulder, smirking. "A life of debauchery."

  "Right. Because we are a couple of squares," she teased, poking me in the ribs with the tips of her toes. "Oh, speaking of square, parental things. Your new daughter thinks you are getting too old for your haircut."

  "What?" my voice hissed out of me as my hand rose to rub up the shaved side of my head.

  "Hey, you're someone's old man now. It's time for one of those haircuts that says you've given up on life."

  "Or maybe I will dye it bright blue, and humiliate her everywhere we go."

  "There's a real dad talking," she said, smile warmer than I had maybe ever seen it as she scooted until her ass landed in my lap, her head tucking under my chin.

  "We're gonna have to move," I voiced my thoughts aloud a long couple of minutes later. We had a one bedroom. And while we had a basement, I figured that was a place she was never going to want to live in, not even if we refinished it.

  "There's a house for sale across from Repo and Maze," Lo agreed. "Two beds, two baths. Two minutes from the compound."

  "I'll call the agent sometime tomorrow."

  She made a murmuring noise, her fingers tracing down my arm, then twining her fingers between mine.

  "I want our girl back," she said, articulating what we were both thinking.

  "Me too," I agreed, trying not to harp on the pit in my stomach, trying to remember that Ferryn, for all her youth, was mature for her age. She would be okay. If she survived V's compound in one piece, she could survive anything.

  "What are we going to do about the legality of this?" I asked, knowing that a girl suddenly popping up in the town might make some people - like the cops - rather curious.

  "I have a judge who will grant us guardianship."

  "What'd he do?" I asked as my hands sifted through her hair, wondering as I so often did how it was always so soft. I knew Lo and her people had something on everyone, something they could use against them, use to blackmail them. If you were a person in power, Hailstorm had a file with your name on it jam-packed full of dirty secrets.

  "Before or after his trip to Neigh Ranch?"

  "Do I even want to know what Neigh Ranch is?"

  "Ever hear of pony play?" she asked, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

  "You're shitting me."

  "His Honor Mister Ed," she agreed. "Have some very private pictures of him getting brushed down with blinders on. It's good stuff. His wife - who spends every waking hour working at the local church - would not like getting her hands on those."

  I had an evil genius for a wife, one who read raunchy shit and wanted to reenact it and put flower blankets on the bed and, well, I still fucking loved it.

  More and more each day if I were being honest.

  "Babe?"

  "Yeah?" she asked, sounding half-asleep. As she should be. She hadn't slept in days.

  "Feel like I should know our daughter's name."

  "Oh, Chris," she supplied, shaking the sleep away.

  "Short for?"

  "Christienne."

  Christienne.

  "She likes tea. An
d cats. And speaks French."

  "So we can look forward to her one day cussing us out in another language?"

  "Maybe it's time for some night classes," she agreed, leaning up to kiss the underside of my chin.

  "Our whole world is about to change," I said.

  "I know," she agreed, squeezing my hand. "I kind of love it."

  "Me too."

  --

  Reign

  The car came screeching up to the gates.

  For the second time.

  That T-bird.

  With the same guy at the wheel.

  Vance.

  But this time, with his sister Iggy in the passenger seat, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

  He muttered something to her, huffing out a breath when all she did was shake her head at him, then climbing out of the car alone.

  "Ferryn was at my parents' house a little while ago," he supplied immediately, cutting through all the bullshit. "She's gone already. And she wouldn't tell Iggy where she was going because she didn't want to put her in the middle. But I thought you would want to know. She showered, ate, took care of her cuts, shaved her head, and took off."

  "Shaved her head?" I couldn't help but repeat, brows drawing together.

  While, as a whole, Ferryn was pretty down to earth and level-headed, there was always a small bit of vanity in her, as with just about anyone her age. She was fanatical about her hair. It seemed so unlike her to shave it off.

  But that was important to know.

  We had to get that out there to all the people looking for her, the police stations, everyone. A shaved head would make her look completely different.

  "Okay," I said, nodding. "Thank you. Anything else, Iggs?" I asked, moving toward her open window.

  I had a good enough rapport with her after about two thousand visits to our house.

  "She said that... she needed to become lethal," she told me, eyes a little red-rimmed and watery. With as tight as those two had always been, I knew this was weighing on her as well.

  "Lethal," I repeated, not quite grasping it.

  "She said she needs to be a weapon, that she can't rely on you all to protect her anymore."

 

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