Desolation Road

by Feehan, Christine

  He stalked across the room and snagged his shirt, dragging it over his head and chest. “I scared the shit out of your wife in order to bring your ass out of it. Do you know what that cost her? Do you have any idea what that cost me? I was already in the downward spiral. I could have resolved the issue with the fuckin’ job we’re pullin’ tomorrow but now I’ve got this craving and I’ve got nowhere to put that shit. Not to mention, she knows what a fuckin’ psycho I am.”

  “Savage,” Absinthe cautioned. “What do you mean, you scared the shit out of her?”

  “You’re not listening to me because you don’t want to face this. You’re still trying to blame yourself for every damn thing that happened to all of us. It happened. We can’t change it. They fucked us up and we’re the way we are. We can do our best to live with it, not hurt anyone who is innocent and keep to the code. You do that, brother. You’re the best of us. You can’t keep traveling down this path of guilt. It’s got to stop.”

  “What do you mean, you scared the shit out of her?” Absinthe repeated, his voice dropping another octave. He stood, coming off the bed, sudden aggression in his body.

  Savage shook his head. “You don’t want to go there with me right now, bro. I’m pissed as hell with what I had to do here tonight to bring your ass back to her. She’s worth it. You’re so fuckin’ lucky and you don’t have the brains to know it. Some of us don’t have a chance to have a good woman who would do what she did for you. She could take the kitten role or leave it. She does it for you, of her own free will. The woman is like, what? One in a million. You’ve got her and yet you’re risking her going down that same path of guilt. All for what, Absinthe? Tell me for fuckin’ what? Sorbacov and his fucked-up friends? You’re going to let them ruin your life forever? You’re going to let them take a woman like that away from you? If you do, you sure as hell don’t deserve her and not because of what happened to us, but because somewhere along the line you stopped fighting back.”

  “What the fuck did you do to Scarlet?”

  “What do you think I did to her, Absinthe?” Savage countered. “What’s the strongest trait you possess when it comes to women? You fuckin’ ran into a burning building naked, barefoot, to save them.”

  Absinthe winced visibly. Scarlet gripped the sink until her knuckles turned white, studying his face. He rarely showed emotion, but with her out of the room, he was showing it to Savage. His expression was a mixture of anger, guilt and, shockingly, fear. Not fear of Savage; fear of discussing a topic he didn’t want to talk about.

  “I’m not talking about that.”

  “No, you never want to talk about that. You’d much rather take the chance of going somewhere we can’t reach you. You were damn lucky Scarlet was here with you. What happens someday when you get triggered and no one’s around to pull you back? What happens then, Absinthe?”

  “What did you do to scare her?”

  Despair hit and, inside, that last bit of hope she’d clung to faded. Savage was right. If Absinthe wouldn’t talk about his past and the things that were triggering his flashbacks, they would continue to repeat, and he would be caught in a deadly cycle. This was her wedding night and she’d given him a gift she thought he would love, and he’d still fallen into that trap of the past. He refused to work through it, even for her, even when Savage was pointing out how problematic the episodes were.

  “What the fuck do you think I did? I let her see who I am inside. Just let the monster slip a little bit, just enough that she couldn’t tell if he was in the room with her or not. And, bro, you better believe that fuckin’ monster was in the room with her. He’s slipped the leash and he’s had a taste and he wants more. But in the end, it was worth it because the hero came charging up like the white knight he is. You came back to save her, just the way you always do.”

  Savage walked toward the door shaking his head. “You’re so damn intelligent, but you don’t seem to have one single grain of common sense. Don’t let her leave you, because that’s in her head right now. I guarantee it.”

  Scarlet wound a towel around her body, knowing Savage was absolutely right. Leaving was in her mind whether she wanted to or not. It was a matter of saving herself.

  SIXTEEN

  Absinthe stared at the bedroom door for several long moments after Savage had closed it with his controlled anger. Swearing under his breath, he rubbed at his pounding temples. He had a vicious headache, the aftermath of a flashback. They were becoming more frequent, much more intense and more difficult to come back from. His mind wouldn’t let go. Savage was often a trigger, as was Steele or Alena.

  “Shit,” he whispered and turned to look at the fireplace. He’d lit it for Scarlet. She’d become his little pet, one he needed to keep the nightmares at bay, but to keep her warm, he’d activated the fireplace, another trigger. Savage had come with Steele to talk to him about changes they had to make the following day due to a big blowout barbecue Code had discovered the Venomous club was putting on down by the river. Alena had come with them, bearing gifts of her orange-and-cinnamon-spice cookies she knew he loved to make up for the late-night visit. He should have known, with the flames rolling and the three of them close, he would snap. “Damn it,” he whispered again.

  It was his fucking wedding night. Scarlet deserved one night before the universe dragged her completely down into the mire with him and showed her she hadn’t gotten such a bargain. She’d already accepted his strange needs in the bedroom and yet, clearly, she was expected to accept more. She still hadn’t emerged from the bathroom, giving him a bit of a reprieve, and he was grateful. He had no idea what he was going to say or do when she decided to join him.

  He picked up the bushy tail Scarlet had thrown at him and ran his hands lovingly over the fur and jewels. Ice was a master at designing beautiful jewelry and accessories. He’d outdone himself when it came to these tails. He needed to clean this one and put it away. He just needed to act calm and in control. Scarlet responded to his voice and authority in the bedroom.

  Absinthe sauntered into the master bath as if everything was all right and found Scarlet sitting on the edge of the tub wrapped in a towel. He crossed to the sink and began to clean the plug meticulously using the soaps he had. Very casually he raised his eyes to meet hers in the mirror. His heart stuttered. She’d been crying. She still was, although she’d dashed at the tears the moment he entered the room. Worse, she was shaking visibly.

  Laying the tail on a towel on the sink, he turned to her immediately, taking several steps toward her. She stood and backed away from him, shaking her head, one hand up defensively. He stopped. She looked scared. Confused. Angry.

  “Baby, don’t cry. Did Savage scare you? He wouldn’t hurt you.” He kept his voice low, gentle, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror.

  She had the most expressive eyes, and right now, they were a vivid green, almost pure emerald, the tears making them look as if she was drowning in emotion, and maybe she was, maybe they both were. He reached out on their connective path, needing to touch her mind, to know what she was feeling, but she had completely shut him out. Completely. She folded both arms over her breasts, holding herself away from him. Making herself small. Tears still ran down her cheeks but she cried silently. It was the shivering that got to him, that continual shaking that wouldn’t stop.

  “Don’t defend him. You have no idea what happened and yet you’re immediately defending him.” Her voice shook with both fear and fury and her hand crept up to her neck, fingers touching the collar that was still there, declaring her his. The pads of her fingers slipped above the thin leather and rubbed as if her neck hurt.

  Absinthe’s gut clenched hard. “Scarlet, Savage didn’t touch you. He wouldn’t do that.” He poured conviction into his voice, wanting her to believe it. “He wouldn’t hurt you.”

  “Why the hell are you defending that monster?”

  “He isn’t a monster.” He reached behind his neck and tried to rub the knots that formed there. Scarlet had done
that for him. He despised this conversation. “Let’s go into the bedroom and calm down. There’s no point in talking about Savage. He is what he is …”

  “No point? You don’t even want to know what he did? He’s psycho. For God’s sake, Absinthe, that man you’re defending could be a serial killer.”

  “That’s fuckin’ bullshit, Scarlet. If you say that about him, you might as well be talking about any or all of us including about yourself. We’re done discussing this. We’re both tired and need to sleep.”

  Scarlet stood for a long time regarding him from under her lashes and something in her expression told Absinthe he was really in trouble. He didn’t know the first thing about relationships. Not one damn thing. His first instinct was to always protect his brothers. His club. Torpedo Ink. Scarlet was his wife, his woman. He wanted her as his partner. He wanted her to be a life partner and he was already blowing it. He should have kept his strange needs to himself. He should have been more careful about triggers that could cause flashbacks. None of this was Savage’s fault. It was his.

  Scarlet shook her head. “Fuck you, Absinthe. You aren’t asking me what he did or didn’t do, you’re defending him. I’m supposed to be your wife, but clearly you’re all about protecting your insane brother, not me. Now you’re not even willing to discuss it. This is going to be the shortest marriage on record. If you think I was going to put up with your scary, mean bastard of a brother while I was on my knees sucking your cock just for the hell of it, you’re out of your mind.”

  She lifted her chin. “I might have willingly done a lot for you because I thought it was a mutual respect-and-love fest going on, but clearly I was wrong.”

  She stalked past him, straight out of the room, toward the closets. When she moved, he could see the predator coming alive in her. She was shaking off every last bit of his kiska. By the time she had taken the first step into the closet she had removed most of his last name. She was Scarlet Foley and not the librarian. She was the woman trained in survival and steeling herself to go to war.

  Absinthe closed his eyes briefly. He was losing her. Little beads of sweat broke out on his forehead and trickled down his chest. She was really going to leave him.

  Scarlet yanked open the drawer and pulled out a pair of lace panties, sliding them up her legs, uncaring that he was standing directly behind her, leaning against the door frame, arms folded across his chest. He could block the doorway. That was uppermost in his mind. He had to find a way to persuade her.

  “Go away, Absinthe. I need to pack, and I don’t want you staring at me while I do it. I don’t need your crap. Making a fool out of myself twice is a bit much.”

  “A fool out of yourself?” he echoed. Hell, he had an IQ off the fuckin’ charts and he couldn’t think of a damn thing to do or say to make this right between them. Her body language screamed at him not to touch her. There was no physical way to persuade her. He’d always been able to fall back on his voice when he needed it, but she was the one person he couldn’t use it on effectively.

  “Yeah, babe, I’d say I made a royal fool of myself with you, believing you cared about me. I fucking crawled around on my hands and knees playing the sex kitten for you, happy to do so, thinking we were partners, believing your crap, and when it came time for you to take my side and stand for me, the way I took yours, well, you chose the other way, didn’t you? Then I gave you a second chance. I told you everything, but you weren’t so willing to bare your soul to me, were you? So, fuck you, Absinthe. Fuck you and your lies. I’m so gone.”

  “You aren’t leaving me.” He made that a statement, hoping she would hear the conviction in his voice. She had to hear that he would fight for her, fight for them. He tried to find a way to appeal to her that would give them both a way to calm down and then start over to figure it all out. If they could move the conversation away from Savage and put their attention somewhere else even for a few minutes, he was confident they could get past this.

  “For one thing, you’re in trouble. Holden has sent word to all the clubs and they’re looking for you. Marrying me gives you that protection.”

  She didn’t bother to turn around. She donned the matching bra to her panties. She had the sexiest underwear and he loved the idea of her librarian clothes, knowing what was underneath. There was something deeply sensual about Scarlet, the way she moved, the way she thought, just that little detail, the prim and proper clothing over the sexiest lingerie. He fucking loved that about her.

  “I know places I can go out of the country they won’t find me, even with their chapters there. I have go-bags stashed with plenty of money and a couple of very good passports. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  Scarlet dragged a T-shirt over her head and fished around for her favorite pair of jeans. She kept her face averted as she dragged a small bag from the closet and began to throw clothes into it, but he could see tears still tracking down her face and she was still shaking. He couldn’t decide whether she had gone from fear to fury or if it was a combination of the two.

  “Do you really think you’re going to get past me? It’s too dangerous for you to leave, Scarlet, and you know it. You’re acting crazy. Just because I don’t want to talk about something that happened a long time ago, you’re going to walk out on me? You’re going to put your life in jeopardy? Does that even make sense to you? It isn’t logical.”

  Deliberately, he lowered his voice another octave, desperation putting temptation in his mind. He had vowed, sworn, that he would never use his ability on someone he loved without their consent, and he loved Scarlet Foley. No, Scarlet Solokov. She was his wife. What the hell was she thinking leaving him? And what was he thinking that he might consider using his voice on her to force her to stay?

  He rubbed his pounding temples and breathed. “Scarlet, I don’t want you to go. I know I’m screwing up all over the place here, but I don’t know how to make this right. I want to make this right. Tell me what the fuck to do and I’ll do it.”

  She swung around to face him, and the pain etched into her face gutted him. It added to what he was already feeling, nearly taking him to his knees. He’d done that to her, put that look there. Betrayal. Shredding her. She’d believed in him and he’d torn her apart. He didn’t know how to make it right between them, he wasn’t lying. He might be one of the smartest men on the planet, but he didn’t know how to fix things between them.

  “Baby.” He wasn’t even trying to soften his voice. The plea was real. “I’m begging here. I don’t want to lose you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Tell me what to do to fix this. I swear to you, I want this to work.” He held out his hand to her. “We don’t have to stay in the bedroom. We can go anywhere you want and just talk. Just talk. Talk to me.”

  She didn’t take his hand. She just looked at him. “No, Absinthe, you have to talk to me. That’s the only way this is going to work. I told you everything about me. All of it. You have to do the same. It’s the only way I can understand you and your family. Why you champion them in the worst of circumstances. I need to know why you need to have a kitten in the bedroom at night …”

  “I don’t. We can stop …” His heart started with a slow acceleration and then began tripping overtime at the thought of talking about his past. The pounding in his temples increased. His mouth went dry.

  If she knew the things he’d done. What all of them had done. The killings were the least of it. She could accept those things, but there was so much more. The shame. The guilt. He was responsible for the majority of it. He just couldn’t let her see that. He could barely look at himself in the mirror. Most of the time he couldn’t. The demons in his head roared, threatening to swallow him.

  She shook her head. “You’re deluding yourself. You do need a kitten. If you can’t be honest with yourself then you can’t be honest with me. I’ve shown you that I’m willing to be a partner for you in every way, but I need respect from you. I have to be able to trust you. You have to be able to trust me. Yo
u don’t. You only trust them. Savage and the rest of Torpedo Ink. I don’t know why you put Savage before me in the situation tonight, but hopefully you had good reason because it cost you more than you’ll ever know.”

  Scarlet gave him a very sad half smile. He heard the absolute conviction in her voice. She was really going to leave him. She meant every word. She believed he’d betrayed her and their marriage vows, and he had. She’d been frightened by Savage. He might know in his heart that Savage wouldn’t hurt her but she didn’t. He should have listened to her, heard her out, let her rage, cry, waited until she said her piece and after she was calm and he was holding her in his arms in their bed, talked to her about Savage and reassured her gently that his brother would never really hurt her. He hadn’t done that.

  Absinthe glided forward, closing the gap between them before she could move, before she was aware, and caught her hand, opening her fingers and placing her palm over his heart. “You’re going to leave me after I tell you the terrible things I did, what I’m responsible for, but if that will stop you even for a few minutes, enough to give me the slightest chance, I’ll take the chance.”

  He didn’t know what the hell he was saying. He really didn’t. He was out of his mind to think he could reveal to her what he’d never told another soul. So much guilt and shame, so many sins weighing down his soul. He was ashamed that Savage thought he was “the best of them.” He was the worst. He was the monster, not Savage. He despised when others thought that of his brother. Savage bore the brunt of Absinthe’s sins, because outwardly, Savage appeared to be the “monster.” Absinthe knew who the real one was.

  Scarlet’s green eyes moved over his face, assessing the risk in that way she had. Processing. It wasn’t in her nature just to take that leap off the cliff as she’d done with him when she’d come to him and then married him. Now, he could see, she was going to be much more careful. He’d done that—pushed her back to her wary nature. Broken the trust he’d built between them. He’d put Savage before her. He’d put Savage in the position of having to frighten her and clearly things had gone terribly wrong. He needed to find out what, but first he had to talk to her and hope she listened to him and cared enough to stick around.