Inked Babies: Epilogue to Inked Brotherhood

by Jo Raven

  My mouth hangs open. “Crap, how did you find out?”

  “Find out what?”

  I bite my lip. “That we’re having another baby.”

  “Aud! OMG!” Tessa squeals as we slow down at a traffic light. A guy sitting in the car beside us frowns at her. “Oh God, this is so exciting, this is… are you okay? Do you need anything? How far along are you? Good lord, I’m going to be an auntie again!”

  I snicker, because she’s so funny when she gets like this. “Christ, you didn’t know, and I wanted to wait before I told everyone…”

  “Why? It’s awesome news.”

  “I’m just not that far along yet, and… And nothing. I just don’t want anyone to tell me it’s too soon, or anything like that.”

  “It’s not too soon. Well, it’s soon, but Asher’s rod is fruitful, so…”

  “Shut up!” I’m laughing so hard my eyes are tearing up.

  “And you want it, right?”

  I wipe at my eyes and nod. “Yes, I do. What about you? Don’t you want kids of your own? Little Dylan-clones?”

  “He has two clones already. More and he’ll get too cocky.”

  “Be serious for a second?” I sigh. Who would’ve thought I’d be the more conservative, mainstream one in the end and Tessa the wild one?

  “Come on, Aud…” She speeds down the street, then slows down, eyes widening. “Oops, sorry! I should go slow, right? In your condition you should avoid bumps and—”

  “I’m fine.” I rub her arm. “Seriously. Though going slow is a good thing.”

  “See? Dylan and I are doing it right. Taking it slow.”

  Oh God. I snicker. “Okay. I’ll back off now.”

  “Aud… You know I love Dylan more than my own life.”

  I nod.

  “I love my job. I love traveling. I love being myself, and the fact he encourages me and lets me fly. I love his brothers. And my heart is his.”

  “But…?” I’m waiting for that dreaded word to find out what’s wrong. She’s not ready for such a commitment? She’s scared of having kids of her own? She can’t have kids? Dylan can’t have kids? She doesn’t want kids?

  No, this makes no sense. She loves Scott. And all the kids of the Brotherhood.

  “I think he’s not ready,” Tessa says, and I blink at her.

  “For what?”

  “For more kids. You see, I’ve just gotten my freedom back, found my real self. But my prison was in my own head. I’d accepted it. I’d let my dad dictate my life, my personality to me. But Dylan…” She shrugs, a lithe, fluid movement as she changes lanes. “He’s always been constrained by the circumstances of his life, by factors outside his own will. Don’t get me wrong, he adores his brothers, he’d give his life for them without second thought—but he’s been a parent to them ever since he was what, fifteen? No, younger. Even before his mom left them and his dad went off the deep end.”

  “Tess…”

  “The last thing he needs right now is more responsibilities. He’s only just gotten his feet under him again, returned to college, stopped being so damn exhausted all the time. Both Little Teo and him have only just fully recovered from that godawful Lyme disease. I just can’t… Can’t put more on his shoulders.”

  Jesus, maybe she’s right. No matter what Dylan says, maybe he hasn’t thought this through, caught up in his friends’ weddings and baby fever.

  “Besides…” Tessa’s pretty mouth is downturned, and now I wish I hadn’t moved this conversation into such serious territory. “He’s been acting kind of weird.”

  “Weird, how?”

  “I dunno. Colder, maybe? More distant.”

  Dylan, cold and distant? He’s been burning for Tessa since they were teenagers. “Maybe it’s because of Zane?”

  “Maybe.” She doesn’t sound convinced, and it hurts to think anything could come between them now that they’ve finally found each other.

  “His brother isn’t sick again, is he? And his scholarship, what if there’s—?”

  “If Teo was sick, I’d know. As for his scholarship, well, he never mentioned a problem.” She shoots me a troubled look. “Think he’d hide something like that from me?”

  “Only if he thinks you’re overwhelmed yourself.”

  “With what?”

  “Your job? You’ve been traveling almost nonstop in the past months, Tess.”

  “I haven’t…” She stops and brakes so hard I jolt against the belt. She turns wide eyes on me. “Oh God, I am so sorry. Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” I wave away her concern. “What is it?”

  “I have been traveling a lot, haven’t I? Left him to deal with his studies and his brothers alone. No wonder he…”

  “No wonder he, what, Tess?”

  She shakes her head. “Why would he want a family with me? I’m a princess, he used to call me that. Coming from money, I hardly understand the sort of problems he faces, and now I’ve lost myself in my job and trips and haven’t been here for him, and—”

  “Girl, breathe.” I motion at the street ahead. “How about we get to Dakota’s and park there before we continue this conversation?”

  We’ve stopped in the middle of a street—a small, quiet street, but still.

  “Yeah. Sure.” She drives on, her pretty face creased in lines of worry.

  “Tess…” I sigh. “Dylan loves you.”

  “But love isn’t enough, Aud.”

  “Why not?”

  “He has to know he can count on me. That I have his back. I’ve messed up.”

  “You don’t know that, you’re making assumptions. Talk to him.”

  We drive the rest of the way in silence. She looks like she wants to say something more, pausing at the building entrance, but then she just shrugs and opens the door for me, following me inside.

  God, I hope it’s just a misunderstanding, and that they’ll be okay. Not sure I can handle more worry right now, not with Zane falling apart and Dakota not knowing how to help him.

  But as I step into the elevator and the doors close, I draw in a deep breath and tell myself everything will turn out all right.

  One step at a time.

  Chapter Twelve

  Asher

  “Anything?” I ask Rafe when I go to relieve him the next day in the afternoon.

  “Nope.” He looks as frustrated as I feel.

  No car matching the description Zane gave us. Impatience is gripping me again, bulldozing through my calm. “Fucking hell.”

  “The guy may not show up for weeks, if at all,” Rafe says, not helping my state of mind. “And that’s if Zane was right.”

  “Jeez, you’re a barrel of laughs today,” I mutter, tapping the side of his car. “Go back home, man. I’ll keep watch.”

  “Tell me you don’t have any doubts.” Rafe rakes a hand through his blond hair. “About what Zane remembers.”

  “I don’t have any doubts,” I lie, my impatience turning into bad temper. “Zane saw this car, and we’ll find it.”

  “He’s not even sure himself, Ash.”

  “Yeah well, we can’t afford doubts. We need to solve this fucking riddle.”

  Rafe nods. “That we agree on. You should’ve seen Zane today at work… He looks like shit.”

  My chest tightens. Fuck. “Any idea what happened with that form he submitted for information?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  “Dammit.”

  “Yeah.”

  Shit, I have to act, do something more than sit around in the parking lot, waiting for a car that may or may not appear. “Audrey said she’d ask her mom if she can push for the info to be released sooner. I’ll call and ask if there’s any news. This is killing Zane. We can’t let it go on any longer.”

  “Good thought. Let her ask.” He taps the wheel, chewing on his lip. “Okay, man, gonna bounce. Meg came down with a cold, and she’d appreciate me taking care of dinner.”

  “Go. I’ll call Audrey.”

  ***

>   Audrey tells me her mom’s on it and hopes to have some results soon enough. Not sure what that means—soon enough for what, Zane to go around the fucking bend?—and I knock my head on the backrest.

  Fuck, why am I so on edge? Nothing justifies feeling like the world is dropping from under my damn feet. Despite what Zane is going through, things aren’t so bad, considering. Our girls are okay, our babies healthy, the other guys are doing all right.

  Sure, Zane is my best friend, and his pain cuts me deep. Still. We’re working on it, and it should make me feel better.

  It doesn’t. This sucks. My chest hurts, and I rub at it as I stare at the busy parking lot. Goddammit, this is like a panic attack, but… not so intense. More constant. Like my heart won’t stop pounding.

  I change the phone to my other ear. “You okay? Dakota? The kids?” Swallowing hard, I lower my voice. “The baby?”

  “We’re fine. Ash…” Her voice softens, too. “Don’t worry about us. Seriously. Is something else on your mind?”

  She knows me too well. Can’t hide from her. Restlessly, I shift behind the wheel, scanning the people moving between the cars and the buildings.

  “Something’s bothering me, and I don’t know what it is. Or if it’s just all in my mind. It’s like a bad feeling, a hunch.” I huff. “Or indigestion. I’m just feeling out of sorts.”

  “Okay, look. I’ll call Tessa to stay with Dakota and come find you, talk about this and—”

  “No.” I force myself to take a deep breath. Dammit, I’ve worried her. “I mean, nah, I’m fine, girl. Really.”

  “It’s the situation with Zane. It’s really weighing heavy on your mind, isn’t it?”

  Can’t deny it. “That has to be it,” I agree, to set her at ease. “Stay put, and don’t tire yourself.”

  “Love you,” she says, a smile in her voice, and I can’t help smiling back, even though she can’t see me.

  “Right back at you, girl.”

  I feel marginally better as I settle in for my watch, still rubbing at my chest.

  That’s when I see it.

  The white Audi sedan, with a yellow streak on one side. It’s rolling through the parking lot, its driver a dark shadow behind the wheel.

  Frozen, I stare as it drives by, just a row after mine, cruising. Heading toward the exit of the lot.

  Then it all sinks in, and I turn on the engine, cursing, my hands clumsy with fucking nerves. Fucking hell, it’s real, the sedan is right here, and my car won’t turn on.

  At long last it does, and I swerve out of my spot, barely missing another car passing behind me, then turn and step down on the gas, following hot on the tail of the white sedan.

  But it’s already slipping out into the traffic. Shit, shit, shit! I wait in the line of cars trying to leave the parking lot, drumming my fingers on the wheel and close to punching my fist through the window—or to throwing myself out and running after the car.

  Jesus. I honk at the stalling cars in front of me, but there’s nowhere they can go.

  It takes me a long moment to accept the fact I won’t catch up—not that I’d know what to do if I did. We somehow never got to talking about that part. Would we stop the car, wrench the door open, drag the guy out and ask him for his name and social security number?

  The license plate! Opening my window, I lean out as far as possible trying to make it out but can only make out the numbers.

  666.

  The hell? Well, at least it’s easy to remember—and that’s all I get before the sedan vanishes in the sea of cars heading back into town.

  I slam my fist into the wheel and grab for my phone to call Tyler. At least we have a sighting. Better than nothing.

  And if this is the guy who hurt Zane, if he is the one who used to live in Wausau in that red brick house, getting off on torturing a young, defenseless boy… then it looks like he may have moved here, to Madison.

  And God help me, I’m gonna find that bastard, feed him his balls and make him choke on his own goddamn dick.

  ***

  “You sure it was the car Zane described?” Tyler mutters, scratching at the dark stubble on his jaw. His hair keeps falling in his eyes, and he keeps pushing it back. My brother hasn’t had a haircut in weeks, hasn’t shaved in days, and the bags under his eyes tell me he hasn’t been sleeping well either.

  Makes me wonder if it’s because the baby keeps them up, because of his worry for Zane, or if Zane’s nightmares have brought back his own.

  “You all right, Ty?”

  “I’m fine.” He doesn’t smile, or tease me, so he’s basically lying to me, but I let it slide.

  None of us are fine right now.

  “The car had the scratch and the traces of yellow paint in the side, like Zane told us.” I nod at Dylan who takes a seat across from us. Tessa sits down beside him, her blue eyes wide.

  “You saw the car?”

  “Yeah. Got the numbers of the plate, too, though not the letters.”

  “Without the entire plate, that won’t help,” Dylan says, “not unless we know the guy’s name.”

  Awesome.

  Letting out a breath, I slump back on the sofa. “The fucking car was there, guys. I saw it. Question is, what are we gonna do now?”

  “Well, the house didn’t check out,” Dylan waves a hand. “We lack basic information. Told you, man, without Zane’s file, there’s jack shit we can do.”

  Yeah, he’s said that, many times over. Dammit.

  “Where’s Rafe?” Tyler mutters.

  He was the one who called for a general assembly of sorts to discuss what I saw and what to do. Zane and Dakota aren’t here because Zane is at work and Dakota is at her mom’s, out of town.

  “Rafe’s at Damage Control. Said he’d drive Zane home when he’s done.”

  “Did something else happen I don’t fucking know about?” Tyler rumbles, frowning.

  “Zane’s tired.” Dylan shrugs, but it’s forced. His brow is creased with deep lines. “Not sleeping well. Well, worse than usual.”

  “Since we visited that damn house.”

  “Since the damn house,” Dylan agrees and looks away.

  Christ.

  “Ash.” Audrey wanders into our living room, Scott in her arms. “I just talked to Mom on the phone. She says Zane should go to the agency tomorrow and say she’s sending him. They should give him the info.”

  “Thanks, Auds.” I send her a grateful smile. “You fucking rock.”

  Dylan’s eyes have brightened at the news, too. “Man, at last. Something we can work with.”

  Hopefully.

  “So is that what the bad feeling was about?” Audrey sits by my side, and I take Scott from her arms. He’s stuck his hand in his mouth and is chewing on it, dribbling saliva all over me. “That car?”

  Was it? Seeing the car wasn’t a bad thing. It was a positive thing. Took down my frustration a notch, made me feel we’re getting somewhere, even if we’re not.

  But maybe she’s right.

  “So you’re a psychic now?” Tyler shoots me an amused look.

  I shrug. “Got a problem with that?” Can’t explain it myself. Also can’t say it’s happened to me before.

  “Nope. Knock yourself out,” Tyler mutters, though his brows have gone up in surprise at my seriousness. “Not like we’ve got much more to go on. We’re running on fumes and faith, hoping tomorrow will give us something concrete to use.”

  Yeah, I know. I know, and it’s eating at me.

  “What were the numbers of the license plate you saw?”

  “666,” I say, throwing an arm over my face and closing my eyes. Damn, I’m beat.

  “The number of the Beast?” Dylan laughs. “This is a joke, right?”

  “Huh?” I lift my arm and catch an exchange of looks between the others. “What? That’s what I saw.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Fuck.” Tyler pinches the bridge of his nose, like he’s got the mother of
all headaches. “Could it be that Zane saw the plate at the parking lot, and his mind associated it with his past?”

  “You mean…?” I sit up straighter. “That the car isn’t connected to his past, not really?”

  Tyler nods, and Tessa groans.

  Shit, can’t do this anymore, not like this. The doubt is killing me. We need answers, and Zane can’t give them to us. Need to wait it out one more day, one more night.

  Can’t fucking wait for tomorrow.

  ***

  “Here’s everything we have on you,” the clean-shaven man behind the counter says, shoving a thin folder toward Zane. Then he pushes a receipt paper, too. “Please sign here, and it’s all yours.”

  Zane doesn’t make a move to take the folder or sign the receipt. His hands are splayed on top of the counter, and his breathing is shallow. Despite the warm day, he’s wearing his jacket and it’s zipped up.

  “Thanks,” I tell the man and grab the folder. I open it, stare at the few sheaths of paper. “Uh, is this all?”

  “Yes, that’s all we have.”

  I flip through the pages. A few names, some numbers. “Not much, then.”

  “I’m not the one who kept the records,” he protests, and I straighten to my full height, staring down at him.

  “Seriously?”

  He takes a step back from the counter, gulping visibly. Sometimes being a six-foot-tall inked wall of muscle has its uses. “I’m sorry, that’s really all there is.”

  Fuck. Shaking my head, I turn away, the folder clutched in my hand. The info we need had better be in that folder, or I dunno what I’ll do. Probably trash this place.

  “Get that paper signed, Z-man, so we can haul ass outta here.”

  Zane licks his lips and reaches for the pen, as if in a trance. His face is too pale for my liking, but he gets the job done, and I drag him by the arm to a small sitting area by the entrance of the building.

  “You’re not gonna pass out on me, are you?”

  “Shut up, fucker.” He rubs his hands over his face.

  “Don’t wanna see what’s in your folder?”

  “Fuck, no.” He snorts. “And yeah. It’s all I want, and it’s all that gives me nightmares at night, you know?”

  Not only at night, I bet. “Yeah.”