With me still reluctant to answer, it prompted Vice to explain, “I’m the Enforcer of the Steel Stallions. It is literally my job to watch over you and fight by your side if needed. I’m right here. Let me fight with you.”
Still feeling faint as I sat back in my chair, I tightly grasped the sides of my head, feeling like it was about to implode due to all the pressure my imaginary wall was causing. “Why? Not even my mom is fighting for me. Why do you want to help me if my own brothers never had my back? They only sliced it!”
After hisses, the silence crackled as if more lightning had struck.
Vice finally replied, “Because… you have a new set of brothers now. And we always take care of our own. That’s you, Nine Lives.” He pointed to Lynx and Dagger. “I’ve known them for many years. If they say you are worth the fight, then you are. That’s it. Done. They never get a stray wrong.” He slapped his chest. “They didn’t get me wrong.”
Oh shit. My hands slipped from my head and fell to my lap. “You? They helped you, too?”
“That’s right. Letting them in,” he tapped gently on his chest this time, “here, was the best decision I ever made.”
Timidly, I looked to the two men waiting for me to truly trust them. I wasn’t sure how to explain there had only been one man I ever trusted. He had been gone for many years now. “Talking to me can be… hazardous.”
Lynx grinned in a daring fashion. “I will pay you a thousand bucks if you ever prove that your enemies are deadlier than mine.”
Those are the kinds of words that can make a young man stop in his tracks. The tracks that were being made by him running away. “Okay. I will speak the hard truth, but… I hope you win the bet. I don’t want your money, and I don’t want anyone hurt.”
All three men dipped their chins with acknowledged respect.
As if afraid of the answer, Dagger said, “You mentioned your brothers slicing your back. That’s not a metaphor, is it?”
Mortified about my reality being so twisted and sick, I shook my head. “No. It isn’t.”
Lynx asked, “And, ‘they’ are the ones who can lie?”
“Mine,” I swallowed. “And Lacey’s.”
Lynx inhaled sharply. “Lacey is your sister?”
My upper lip lifted. “No.” I touched my chest. “My two brothers,” my hands now pointed to a spot on the table, in front of me to show a separation, “and her two brothers…” I did my best to explain about my brothers and Lacey’s twins. How they aren’t related yet connected in a devious manner.
Lynx’s head was tilted to the extent it almost looked broken. “You mean to tell me, you and Pretty Girl happen to each have two brothers, who all happen to be demented?”
Saying it like that, I couldn’t help but wonder… “Well, yeah. Is that weird or something?”
His jaw unhinged as he stared at me in disbelief before recovering. “Uh, it is quite the coincidence.”
When you grow up in violence, sometimes it is hard to conceive not everyone is being raised in the same environment as you are. You tend to assume that your normal is everyone’s normal. That perception makes it challenging to assess your situation from any other point of view since one doesn’t exist.
Dagger rubbed his eyebrow not covered by the patch. “I must admit, my mind is spinning, too. Kid, when did they become friends? When did all this begin?”
“I was too young to know when it all began… I just remember pain. Confusion. And my parents always believed it was accidents I had caused myself due to being lefthanded and all my injuries on my right side. See?” I tapped my temple. “They’re smart.” I begged myself to keep sharing details. “I was so young I barely knew how to talk. Therefore, unable to tell, explain. Then there was the punishment for trying.”
“For trying to tell your parents?” asked Vice.
“Yep. Just pointing to my brothers when my dad would ask what happened to me had the pain getting worse when he wasn’t looking.”
After a moment, Lynx asked, “How does Lacey fit into the picture?”
Thinking of her and all her glory, a faint smile crossed my lips. “The only friend I ever had when I was very young was a little girl named Lucey.” My smile grew, knowing I found her again. “At least, that is how I pronounced her name at three or four. One day, at her house, with her own brothers involved, mine helped zip her up inside a duffle bag. Since we were at the top of the stairs, I cried, knowing something bad was going to happen, but none of our brothers cared. In fact, now that I’m older, I realize they fed on our fear.” I wiped a hand down my face. “Down the stairs she went.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” grumbled Lynx, utterly disgusted.
Through my nostrils, I tried to pull in enough air to not vomit and keep talking. “My brothers were so pissed because I didn’t stop crying. During her plummet, Lucey had hit her head and was dazed and injured. When she was finally set free from the bag, I was inconsolable. So, Damien and Crow took me home. Never to return. As time passed, they eventually convinced me Lucey was a made-up friend and didn’t really exist.” Bile rose in my throat. “I fucking believed them.” I swallowed down the regret. “From that night on, she was on her own. From that night on, when they weren’t torturing me, she faced the four of them alone.” My nostrils were no longer big enough to help me breathe. My mouth popped open to help feed my desperate lungs. “My poor Pretty Girl.”
“How many years,” asked Dagger, “before you found her again?”
My tongue felt swollen and misplaced in my mouth as I croaked out, “Eleven.” I quickly stood, unable to handle all the erupting emotions. Having the need to run again, I tried to stay put by grabbing onto the back of my chair, but it didn’t work. I ended up dragging my chair away from the table as I walked backward, wanting away from my horrendous truths. “Once the last brother joined the rest in college, Lace and I were in high school.” Leaning on the back of the chair, my head fell forward. “I saw her from across the campus… The sun was shining down on her golden hair like a beam of light I was to follow.” My head rolled to hang back. I looked to the dark sky, remembering the sight of her. “She was like a living goddess.” My hand gripped the chair tighter with anguish. “A goddess that ended up being Lucey.” Seconds from completely unraveling, I growled, “They had already been raping her by then.”
Her mom should never have believed their lies…
On that porch, all my restraint vanished. My mind snapped.
With a roar I couldn’t control, I flung my chair into the air, over the railing, and watched it fall to the ground.
Then I fell, too, onto my hands and knees… as my wounds began to bleed.
CHAPTER FIVE
Giving Knowledge
My eyes opened to see Lynx sleeping in a chair next to my bed. Through one of the bedroom windows, morning sunbeams floated. I wondered if Lacey was seeing the same beams. That made me think of her beauty. On my back, I lifted my hand, hoping to be able to reach the warmth… but I couldn’t. So, I slid my foot out from under yet another blanket I had been covered with. When my bare toes got to touch the sunlight, my throat tightened.
Lace, I miss you.
I prayed that the doctor who was caring for her was a good person and would keep her safe. I also thought of my brothers. I wondered where they were and if they knew Lace and I had lived.
My stitches stretching, and causing discomfort, had me relaxing my straining foot.
I laid there in the quiet for a while, just trying to adjust to all that had transpired over the last seventy-two hours. It was amazing how much could happen over such a short amount of time.
As the beams of light shifted and drifted, I realized sunbeams had to keep moving because that is a part of life. Knowing that the next morning I would wake to, I would have a chance to feel them again, I thanked whoever or whatever was conducting the signs that led Lynx… to me.
“You alright?” his groggy voice asked me.
A tad embarrassed, I didn’t look at
him. “I’m sorry about last night.”
He leaned forward, grabbing my arm and giving it a friendly jostle. “Pup, you’re doing it again. Stop being so hard on yourself.”
Staring at my hands laying on my stomach, I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Ready for some chow?”
Is Lacey being fed so well?
“I think so.”
“Good.” He rose from his chair with a stretch. “There’s some fresh clothes on your dresser. More will be dropped off today. Sorry you can’t get all your bandages wet in a shower. Maybe in a couple days.” He left my room.
Changed into fresh clothes, I wandered into the private bathroom. My reflection in the mirror jolted me to a stop. I just stood there, dumbfounded. After everything my brothers had ever done to me, I had never looked like this. My face was incredibly swollen, discolored with bruises, and my eyes were puffy and looked exhausted. No wonder Lacey touched this face and cried…
Finding a brand-new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste on the counter, my eyes bugged out. Is this for me? Until now, I’d only had leftover toothbrushes and mostly empty tubes of toothpaste I’d have to squeeze clean to get anything out. As I opened the packages, I appreciated the smell and feel. And I thought about Lynx, knowing he had something to do with this.
With the most sparkly teeth I had ever had, I walked down a hallway then into the living room. Lynx wasn’t in sight, but I saw his vest hanging on the back of a chair in the dining room to my right, by the front part of the house. On the chairs on each side of his, two more leather vests hung. Seeing the Steel Stallion design and the word Texas on the backs had me hoping for a vest of my own someday. I quickly hushed away the thought, feeling I wasn’t good enough for such an honor.
Standing in the kitchen, making a cup of coffee, Dagger’s eyes lit up when he noticed me. “Nine Lives! My man!”
I wasn’t used to anyone but Lace being excited when I entered a room. Her eyes would beam like glowing stars when I would crawl through her bedroom window. Even if she was in pain… “Hey,” I quietly replied. “Umm, do you know if my mom has filed a report yet?”
He grimaced before catching himself. “No file yet, Pup. I’m really sorry about that. But we’ll keep checking.”
With his back to me, Vice was at the stove. I could smell the bacon he was tending to. I had always wondered what it tasted like. My brothers would cook it often, but I had never been given any. The wonderful smell would seep under my closed bedroom door and make my stomach growl, and I had wished that they liked me enough to share.
Dagger brought the steaming cup of coffee to his mouth while begging, “Java. Heal me.” He made a slurpy sound as he took a sip. Even though the hot liquid was clearly burning his mouth, “Yes,” he hissed in pleasure. “Just like that.”
Vice peered over his broad shoulder and teased him. “You know that ain’t no woman you’re talkin’ to, right?”
“Vice,” he sneered, “damn, son, don’t take away my morning joy by reminding me what I could be waking up next to if I were at the Barn.”
It was hard to understand the fuss over coffee. Not ever having had any, I realized I wasn’t sure how to fit in with these men. Not only had I never had a cup of coffee, but I’d also never had a drop of alcohol. I didn’t crave other women. I had only one purpose. And she was too far from my reach. “Sorry about last night.”
Dagger tilted his head. “What the fuck for?”
Blink. Blink. “Uh, saying what I said, throwing a chair, and ripping a couple stitches?”
His coffee sloshed in its cup as he and Vice burst out laughing as if my tantrum the night prior was nothing to brag about. That they’d seen far worse.
Dagger set his cup of ‘Java’ down and braced himself up against the counter between him and the living room I was standing in. “Kid, that was you just releasing some steam.”
“Rightfully so,” added Vice as he flipped a strip of bacon. “Hungry, kid?”
My stomach growled in reply, but I answered, “I could eat a little, sure.”
From over his shoulder, he said, “I chopped some potatoes and am fryin’ them up. You like potatoes?”
“Yeah, I used to bake them then sneak some stuff from the refrigerator. If you only take a little, they never notice. Makes the dry potato taste better.”
The silence that lingered after I would say something like that took me a bit to get used to, but the men always tried to recover quickly. I appreciated that. It took the sting out of the awkward moment that I didn’t fully understand. Up until this time, I believed the way I was raised was normal for the youngest sibling. I believed a lot of what I had been told while growing up.
“Well,” Vice coughed to clear something in his throat, “these potatoes won’t be dry.”
Dagger smiled, his eye a bit glossy. “These particular Morning Potatoes are Vice’s specialty. He won’t tell us his seasoning.” He grumbled the next part, “Selfish bastard.”
That piqued my interest. I went to a barstool and sat down, facing Dagger. “Seasonings? Like from the cupboard?” I got excited. “I snuck some of that, too. Garlic was my favorite, besides salt.”
Dagger did his best not to stutter. “Garlic? Shit… you’re in for a treat, kid. Our man Vice here cut up fresh garlic for these potatoes.”
It took all I had to not let my mouth fall open in amazement. If it did, I was positive drool would have dripped. I was so pumped to try this breakfast specialty.
With wet hair dripping on a fresh t-shirt, Lynx came walking up behind me. His bedroom was in the same hallway as mine. “Vice, my brother, smells fucking incredible up in here.” A hand ruffled my shaggy hair before he walked into the kitchen. “Kid, that stomach of yours growling yet? Mine sure the fuck is.”
Resting my elbows on the counter, I nodded, thinking how my dad used to tussle my hair.
Lynx told Dagger, “He needs a pill after he eats.”
Dagger lifted an orange bottle and shook it. “One step ahead of ya.” He lifted and rattled another one. “And his antibiotics.”
Lynx tried but couldn’t fit between the two men stuffed in the small kitchen. “Shit. Fine.” He gave up and teased, “I’ll suck the dick of the first bastard who gets me a coffee.”
Me lifting a brow—as Dagger and Vice both rushed toward the coffee pot—had Dagger laughing at me. “Sorry for all the sex jokes, kid. None of us have been laid in a bit and we’re getting antsy.”
As Dagger poured a cup, Vice went back to the stove. “You know it’s bad when these frying eggs look like a set of tits in a pan.”
Lynx peeked over his shoulder. “Oh yeah, those are perfect C-cups.”
Dagger handed him a coffee, begging, “Can we please stop talking about luscious breasts? If not, you may end up with ‘special’ milk in this coffee.”
Chuckling, Lynx yanked his cup away. “Now that’s sick, dude. Sugar only.” Suddenly, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he moaned, “Elle’s sugar.”
“No!” Jokingly, Vice tossed his spatula on the counter next to the stove. “No more fuckin’ talk of fuckin’! I can’t fuckin’ take it!”
Coffee spurted from Dagger’s nostrils.
“Jesus H. Christ.” Lynx tossed him a paper towel. “Really?”
Breathless from laughing so hard, Dagger said, “I couldn’t help it! Him saying the word fuckin’ so many times had me imagining fuckin’!” His hips started gyrating an imaginary woman.
Now all three men were holding their chests and stomachs, bumping into each other in the little kitchen, absolutely dying. Then Vice shoved at the other two men. “Stop rubbin’ up all over me! It’s getting me hard.”
Through the freest laughter I had ever seen, bodies bounced off of cabinets, counters, refrigerators, and the hot stove. “Ouch!” yelled a regretful—yet cheerful—Dagger.
Now I was laughing. It was that contagious.
The morning continued to be entertaining as I ate the best breakfast in the world. By the
way? Bacon fucking rocks!
Eventually, reality found its way back to me. Sitting at the dining room table, staring at empty plates, Lynx finally said, “I hate to push, kid, but we need more answers. Please understand, my reasons are so I know how best to go about getting your girl back.”
My heart pinged at the mention of Lacey. “Of course. I feel you.”
Proud, Vice held up a hand for me to high-five him. “Bring it here, my man.”
Giving him a high-five, I instantly understood his road name. His hands were like a gorilla’s. He had a ‘vice’ grip. I was sure of it.
“Prez,” asked, Dagger, “mind doing this outside? I need to pollute my lungs.”
Lynx stood. “And that is why you’re my right hand. I have a feeling a smoke is what I will need to get me through what Nine Lives may have to say.”
Outside, the morning air was warming up, but it felt great. It was nowhere near as hot as Kansas. With a water bottle in my hand because of the pills I had just taken, I sat at the end of the table. Lighters ignited cigarettes while I waited.
Exhaling smoke, Lynx leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling of the overhang the back porch offered. “Talk to me again about why you believe the brothers’ lies would prevent a mama from searching for her daughter or son.”
God, it sucked to hear that. So disheartening. But I had to hold on to the only hope I had. If not, I had to face a fact I wasn’t ready to see. “The brothers were always able to cover their tracks. It’s hard to explain why it always worked, but it did.” I shrugged. “Our moms believed them. Every time.” I exhaled through another sting of the heart. Now I was wondering why my word or Lacey’s never mattered. It was always the brothers’ explanations of injuries that counted. Maybe that is why Lace and I stopped talking. “The brothers will make something up and blame it on me and Lace. Our moms didn’t know we were together. We hid it from all of them.” I tossed my hands in the air, clueless how long I could keep lying to myself.
Taking a drag from his cigarette, Lynx stared at the ceiling again. Smoke floated from his lips… “Before I became President of my club, my dad was President.” I watched his throat work a swallow that yelled of him fighting emotions. “The reason I bring it up is to inform you about how much I understand how the man of the house, or club, can influence his men or family.” Lynx’s head slowly lowered so he could face me again. His sharp eyes shot so deep I felt it in my chest. “How old were you when your dad died?”
Hostile Saint (Steel Stallions MC Book 1) Page 6