“The fucking restaurant is closed, Zeke. And don’t tell me to shut up. I don’t ask jackshit when you call me up and tell me to basically find her family and put them to ground. I’m not asking for you or for me. I’m asking for her. ‘Cause the way I see it, she’s family, and I’ll gun anyone down for my family, but if they did to her what I think they did, then I want to make sure they burn before I put a bullet in their heads.”
Jesus Christ. This is all kinds of fucked up.
“They raped her. Started it when she was just a kid who didn’t even know right from wrong. Threatened to kill her. Did all kinds of shit, and if that wasn’t bad enough, they took her to get an abortion when one of them knocked her up. Is that what you want to hear? How a fucking doctor and his son took turns on the woman I’ve fallen in love with, and her cunt of a mother knew and didn’t protect her kid? If it is, then you can kill them any way you want as long as when you walk away, they aren’t fucking breathing.”
I’m so pissed off my hands are shaking. Saxon stares me down. Exposing the raw vulnerability that only a brother can see. I can see the same thing, same look, same thoughts radiating off my little brother that pours out of me every time my mind drifts to what they’ve done. I picture them when Amelia smiles. I see their shadows when her back is naked and straight with a sheet wrapped around her waist on her stool when she paints right after I’ve made love to her on the floor in her studio. I see them every fucking where.
“I figured it was something like that. I’m sorry, brother. I really am. I’ll do her right. Kill those demons, and she’ll never even know. I’m glad you're happy. I’m damn proud to call you my brother, Zeke.”
My heart plummets to the floorboards. A sickly, poisonous sensation crawls up my spine from his words. Not the ones where he’s happy for me or the fact he’s proud to be my brother. It’s because I love Amelia so damn much that I’m blinded by the fact I’ve asked my brother to find two men and a woman and kill them for me. Everything about this is so wrong, and yet I sit here gazing into his eyes, telling him to make sure they suffer in the worst possible way they can.
“I love you, too, Saxon,” I express from the center of my chest.
He nods. Stands tall from where he’s been leaning inside the window of my car. Lights a smoke, body stiffening as does mine when lights pull up behind us.
“Katch. You got something in there for me?” Saxon barks out. My heart sinks.
What in the ever-loving fuck are they doing?
“Doc,” Katch acknowledges when I step out of my car, make my way to the front of his truck, and nod.
“I got the fuckers who attacked her. You’d be surprised how people squeal when you press a knife to their balls. Of course, I had to stab one of them to get him to stop squealing. He’s sucking on his own ball right now. Goddamn thing was the size of a marble. Little balls for a fucker who likes to beat on a woman. Thought maybe you might want to have a few words with the scum before we have a little fun?” Katch runs his hand through his beard like this is just another day at the office for him.
For fuck’s sake. These guys can’t be serious right now. I’ve done some shady-ass shit for Saxon’s club. Shit that would toss my ass in jail right along with them if we were to get caught. But this? Asking me to come down here and expose myself has me throwing my head back and laughing like a Goddamn psycho.
“You fuckers should have been cops. How the hell did you find them?”
I’m not questioning if the men they have in the vehicle that looks like a food delivery van are really the men who attacked Amelia. I know these guys; they do not make a mistake when it comes to shit like this. I want to know how in the hell they did what the cops should have done, and why they did it without telling me.
“You’d be surprised what people in this town will do for money.” Katch lights the cigarette dangling between his lips, taking a few long pulls. “The one who hurt your woman. His name is Ricky. He’s a well-known drug dealer. If the cops had done their job, they could have found him easy enough. Listen, doc, this isn’t my normal style of killing someone. I’m exposing my ass out here in this alleyway. If you want to see them, then get to it. My wife wasn’t all that happy about me skipping out, but you saved my life, hers, too. I’ll kill any rotten motherfucker you ask me to, and Hollywood simply goes along for the ride. So, have at 'em and don’t be a Goddamn pussy about it.”
He turns, taps the hood of the van, and that’s when I notice Curtis getting out the passenger’s side. I swallow. Do my best to shove the oath I took to save anyone’s life down my throat. Even the scum of this earth that deserves to die.
I move out of the way when Katch starts up the van, pulls around my car, and glides slowly down the alley where I found Amelia. My heart that plummeted a few minutes ago is now galloping at a steady beat to lodge back in place. It’s thrumming in my chest. In my ears and rages.
“Jesus, I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” I mumble.
I follow Saxon and Curtis quietly down the alley, stopping at the back of the van. Curtis opens the doors. I’m half expecting to see a couple of guys in here beaten all to shit, but I don’t. Three men. All of them with rags stuffed in their mouths. One with blood covering the crotch of his jeans and pale as a fucking ghost, sweat dripping down his face. I’m surprised he isn’t dead from the blood loss yet, or shock. Frankly, I hope he’s suffering.
“Fuck, man. You really did cut off his ball. How’s it taste, you slimy piece of shit?” Curtis grabs him by his throat.
Foam begins to seep out of the corners of the soon-to-be-dead man’s mouth.
“This is Ricky, doc. The man who cut your woman’s nipple off and stuffed it in her mouth.” He drags him from the van. Drops him headfirst on the cracked pavement and kicks him right between his legs. The guy flails on the ground like a fish squirming fresh out of the water. Body convulsing as Curtis takes his boot, places it underneath Ricky’s stomach, and flips him over. I haven’t seen anyone look more scared in all my life. Except for Amelia and those blue eyes that zapped open and pierced my soul the night I found her lying in a pool of her own blood.
I squat. Tilt my head and look at the fucker. Stare into his shady eyes.
“You scared, motherfucker? You should be. I’m wondering something. Wondering if you swallowed what they put in your mouth. Wondering how it felt to have it cut off? I got all kinds of shit I’m wondering about. The one thing I really would love to know is how you think hell is going to be? ‘Cause that’s where you are going, man. You aren’t going to be able to lay a finger on a woman again. What you did to Amelia is going to haunt you down there. It’s going to eat away at you every time your skin catches fire, and it’s going to hurt so bad you’ll regret it. But there won’t be salvation for you in hell. Only pain, so much of it that it’s eternal. Know this, though, while your skin burns to ashes and your mind is the only thing that stays aware, Amelia is up here living.”
I would love to be able to say more. To be able to fuck him up like he did Amelia. It isn’t in me to do it. I feel guilty as hell about it. Like a Goddamn pussy. But when I turn to my brother and his own club brothers by his side, they’re a wall of sheer determination. It will only take one nod of the head before they rip these slimy motherfuckers from limb to limb in the same spot they left my Bluebird for dead. My fists clench and unclench, thirsty as hell to beat in each of their faces until all of their bones are nothing but mush.
I stare down at my hands fighting everything inside of me. It’s not my oath, breaking the law, or even my conscience that makes the decision for me. It’s a pair of piercing blue eyes who stormed into my life and breathed air back into me. I refuse to take any of the poison from Amelia’s past back to her, and that’s exactly what my bloody knuckles would do. I need to get the hell out of here before I get sick.
“No fucking mercy.” I nod to Saxon and then stroll down the alley back to my car.
I wake in a cold sweat. My body drenched.
“Christ,” I bark out. Still dazed from tossing and turning all night. Finally falling to sleep with visions of seeing Amelia barely hanging on in that alley. Fuck the guilt I thought would shed me raw over knowing the guys were going to brutally kill the scum that deserved to die. Fuck the guilt of me knowing deep in my gut I should have helped the man instead of spewing how I felt. Fuck it all.
The only guilt I’m feeling right now as I climb out of bed and make my way to take a shower is the guilt of knowing I have to keep this from Amelia. There is no way in hell she can find out about this or what I want to be done to the men who started it all.
I crank on the shower, reach for my watch, and see I have about an hour before Amelia said she’d be home. Plenty of time to decompress myself, pull my shit together, and figure out how in the hell I’m going to approach her regarding her family. I may as well keep the anguish going. Get it all out so I can start erasing the last bit of guilt inside of me. It’s the constant guilt of not going to her when I first felt her eyes on me when she was hidden in the dark shadows of the alley she lived in. If I had, then none of this would have happened. Those men would still be alive. Their blood wouldn’t be on my hands as much as it is on Saxon’s. On Katch’s. On Curtis’.
“Goddamnit!” I roar. The sting of the hot water scalding my back.
“Zeke. Are you okay?”
Fuck. She’s early. Son of a bitch.
“Yeah. I had the water too hot,” I lie. It wasn’t hot enough.
“Mind if I join you?” She stands outside of the shower, her hair a matted-up mess. Makeup smeared under her eyes and naked. She has never looked more beautiful than she does right now. My tortured eyes go wide. They cloud over with a cure that only she can give me. God, she is beautiful. Every inch of her.
“Come here, Bluebird.” I open my arms.
The minute she walks in and her body smashes into mine, I see the light. No more regrets. They deserved what they got. End of fucking story.
“You're home early.” I kiss the top of her head. Let her go and lean my head back under the spray of water.
“Renee had some errands to run. I knew you were off work, so I thought we could spend the day together. Unless my boss demands me to work.” She giggles, and it’s music to my ears. She’s happy, and what I’m about to ask her will crack the new foundation she’s built. It’s barely had time to dry.
“Nah. You can take the day off.” I grab the soap, lather my hands, and run them across her breast. Focusing on the nipple that unless you're looking up close, you would never tell it’s not hers.
“You sure you're okay?” Fuck, no. I’m not. I’m trying to figure out if I should ask you now or wait.
“We’ve talked about a lot of things. I feel as if you know me better than anyone.” I gulp, still keeping my eyes trained on her nipple. I can’t look at her. The guilt is back.
“What’s going on, Zeke?” Her scared tone has me gripping hold of my balls and jerking my head up to meet her eyes. She looks scared. I can’t sugarcoat this for her. A part of me knows I’m going to intentionally hurt her for my own selfish reasons.
“I want you to tell me about your family. Your childhood. Where you grew up. Where did you live before you left? Your mom. Do you miss her? What if she’s not married anymore? What if is she’s out looking for you? I have all kinds of questions, Amelia.”
She takes a step back. Her body starts to shake. Goose bumps trail across her skin.
“What? I don’t want to talk about my family. They aren’t even my family anymore. My mother…she hasn’t been one since she married that bastard. I told you all of this. I’ve worked hard to forget them, and you want me to talk about them? What kind of sick joke are you playing with me? Did you use me, fix me just to fuck me back up again? Oh, my God. You did. I have to get out of here!” she screams. It’s so loud that if I didn’t know better, I would swear it rattles the tiled walls that surround us.
“No. You can’t walk away from this. From us. I’m not using you. For crying out loud, Amelia. I love you. I just need to know. I need to know who they are.” I reach for her, but she’s quick. She slips out and skids across the floor, dropping to her knees, and the sight before me is twice as damaging to my heart than the way I found her in the alley.
“Don’t you touch me. You… you don’t understand. Why? Why do you need to know? Does my past taint me that much? Is it as freshly painted across my face as the paintings I’ve been working on? Is that it? They broke me. Stole my fucking life from me, Zeke. They’re the ones to blame for my addictions. Them, not me. They drove me there. Took and took until I was suffocating. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t sleep, eat, or barely get up to go to school. And my mom. Good old Faith Clarkston made me do all those things. She knew her own daughter was drowning, and she left me there to try and paddle my way to shore. I hate you for this.”
It isn’t lost on me that she just gave me a name. I don’t give a fuck about that anymore. Not when she’s falling apart right before my very eyes. Her entire body convulses. She starts scratching at her skin. Rocking back and forth and lost in her own mind. Fuck me. I will never forgive myself for this. Someone, anyone can come and kill me now. Blow my brains out of my head. Stab me over and over with a jagged dagger, because that’s what I’ve done to the only woman I’ve ever loved.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…I want them to pay for what they’ve done to you. Give me your hands.” I drop down in front of her. Grabbing her hands, but she fights me. Our wet bodies are sliding across the floor.
“You want them to pay? I want them dead. Do you know what else I want? I want to feel the rush of drugs pumping through my veins. I want some guy I don’t even know to fuck my brains out just to get them out of my mind. I want to feel my flesh crawling off my bones. To feel nothing. I want to feel absolutely nothing, because you are making me remember to curb your curiosity.” She stuns me by cold-clocking me in the jaw.
I shake my blurred vision and the things she has said. I’ve caused her to relapse. To go back in time. Within that one tiny fraction of a second, she is up off the floor and running. I’m quick to get up to chase after her. But fucking hell if fate doesn’t have something else in store for me. Testing the boundaries of what we share.
I fall on my ass and watch the woman I love grab a handful of clothes and disappear. Quickly, I yank a towel from the rack and sprint toward her. She’s managed to get all her clothes on while stuffing shit in a bag.
“Amelia.”
She stills but doesn’t turn around to me.
“Please.” I step forward placing my hand on her shoulder.
This gets her attention. Amelia whirls around with fire in her eyes.
“Don’t fucking touch me, Zeke,” she spits out. “You pushed, I crumbled. Are you fucking happy?”
Fuck, no, I’m not happy. I’m frozen stupid.
The next words to leave her mouth leave me shattered.
“Or am I just strong enough now to give you a real good fight while you rape me?”
I throw my hands up in the air, stepping back. “Amelia, are you fucking kidding me right now? Do you realize what the hell you just said? I would never hurt you in that way. Never take from you something you didn’t want to give. I want justice for you. Actually, I fucking demand it. I need information, names, places, and dates to track them down. I do not want those fucking bastards living another day on the same planet as you.”
She wildly swipes at the tears flowing down her face with the back of her hand. “Game over, Zeke. I’ll never be anybody’s fool again.” Jesus Christ. There is no reasoning with her over this. She’s obviously not thinking straight.
She storms past me with her bag over her shoulder. I go to reach for her, but then remember her accusation and will never put the thought or the threat or what she has running through her head right now.
“Amelia, stop.”
Her strides quicken, so I’m left with one optio
n. I race ahead of her, throwing my body between her and the front door.
“Listen to me.” My voice comes out harsher than I intended. “You are not leaving.”
Amelia cowers back with signs of another freak-out etched all over her face, so I rush out the rest of the words. “I’ll leave. Give a minute to get dressed, and I’m gone. You are not going back out on the streets.”
She doesn’t respond, but I see her trembling lips and shaking body ease up a bit.
“I promise to leave. I’ll pack a bag and go, but only if you promise that you stay here, safe, and call Renee or Ronan. That’s the deal, Amelia. Please take it.”
She responds with a slight nod.
“Need words, Amelia.”
That gains me a harsh glare from her with her head popping up. The fire is blazing in her eyes and aiming right for me, hurt flowing from her every pore. She nods one more time, not giving me her words. Instead, she reaches into her bag, pulls out a piece of paper, and shoves it into my chest. I glance down, take it in my hands.
“Amelia.” I say, closing my eyes after seeing what she gave me.
She says nothing. The piece of paper in my hands says it all.
With tentative steps, I make my way back to my bedroom, rushing around getting dressed and packing a bag with exactly one change of clothes. I’ll buy whatever the fuck else I need. I refuse to let Amelia go back out on the streets with the overwhelming temptation of going right back into her dark hole.
When Opposites Collide Boxset Page 37