by Tillie Cole
“Aubin Breaux? Is that you?”
I blinked, coming around. I was on some kind of seat. I looked around me but didn’t recognize my surroundings. I could hear low voices. I tried to move my arm, but I ached.
I managed to roll my head to look to the side. I saw stars and the moon. Night surrounded us. I blinked and blinked again, until I saw Aubin. A guy was next to him . . . a brown-haired guy.
Lucious? The one we watched on the bronc.
Aubin’s face filled my view. “Hey, Val. You feeling better?”
My mouth was dry. Aub helped me sit up and handed me a bottle of water. I downed it in one, then gasped for breath. I felt weak. One look at Aubin’s face made me remember the fight.
I ran a hand down my face. “What time is it?”
“Eight p.m.,” he replied. “You came around a little afterward, but then fell back to sleep. Lucious helped me get you back here to rest.”
I looked around. I was in an RV. “I gotta get home.” I tried to get off the couch. Aubin helped me up, and we walked to his truck. “My cell?” I asked.
“Smashed in the fight.”
“Shit. My folks will be worried.”
“They’ll understand.” And I knew they would. Nobody understood better than them the shit that had been poured our way since we came to that little fucking town where I’d been a target ever since I showed my “half-breed” face.
We were silent as we rode home. What the fuck was there to say? I couldn’t wait to leave this place. When we were only a mile or so away from my house, Aubin narrowed his eyes and asked, “What’s that?”
I dragged my tired eyes to look out the windshield. An orange glow shone from behind some high trees. The trees that surrounded my home. My stomach plummeted, taking my heart with it and shattering it on the ground when I saw thick smoke rising above the treetops.
My body tensed. “My house,” I gasped. Panic plowed through me, taking control of everything I was. Aubin slammed his foot on the gas. But the closer we got to the dirt road that led to the wooden house, the clearer the flames were. Orange-and-red flames, climbing higher and higher as they reached for the sky.
When Aubin turned the truck to the right, I choked on my breath. My house was in flames. I found the handle to the door of the truck and threw it open. Aubin was right beside me.
“My parents . . .” I said, my voice breaking.
“Your mamma went out to her mamma. Your papa will have got out too,” Aubin assured me. But I heard the doubt lacing his words.
“Mamma!” I screamed, praying she wasn’t here, searching for a way in through the raging fire. “Papa!” I jumped forward, trying to get up the stairs to the front door. Fire lashed at my arms, scalding the skin.
“I can’t find a way in!” Aubin shouted . . . and then I heard it.
“VALAN!” I snapped my head back and looked up at the attic. The window was jammed, someone pushing at the frame. I wiped the water from my eyes and saw that it was my mamma.
“Mamma!” I ran around the house until I was underneath the window. Her hands slapped at the pane. Then I saw another set of hands. “Papa,” I whispered on a choked cry. “No!” I rocked on my feet, shifting left and right, trying with everything I had to smash through the wall of climbing, scalding flames.
“Aubin!” I shouted.
He was next to me in an instant, his hands on his head. But I couldn’t take my eyes from my parents. My mamma was crying, her blue eyes on me. My papa was behind her, but there was a sad look of acceptance on his face. “No!” I called again, then stilled when my papa turned my mamma from the pane and wrapped his arms around her, holding her to his chest. The heat from the flames burned my face; the smell of burned hair reached my nose. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Tears streaming down my face, I watched my parents die.
My mamma turned her face toward me once more and mouthed, “I love you.” I couldn’t feel my legs. I heard a loud crack, and the attic where my parents were standing gave way and crashed into the flames below.
“NO!” I lunged forward and ran toward the house. “NO!” I screamed, over and over until my voice was raw. I ran, trying any way to get into the house. They could still be alive. They might only be hurt.
But before I had even made it two feet, Aubin wrapped his arms around me and dragged me back. I fought to get away, but we fell to the ground. Just as we did, the house exploded, a cloud of flames mushrooming above the crumbling ruins.
Unable to move, frozen in the purgatory that was instant grief and shock, I watched as the remainder of the house was ravaged by the fire. I cried until there was nothing left to give. By the time the firefighters reached the house, it was just a pile of ashes. But I knew . . . knew that somewhere among the rubble, there was a couple holding onto one another even as they died. Because from the minute they met, they’d fought for their love. Fought for their love when everyone told them it was wrong.
And they died for their love. Died because people couldn’t see past their different skin colors and admire the entangled hearts beneath . . .
. . . because love doesn’t see color. Only pure hearts . . .
I slumped forward, my head dropping to my chest. Tears poured from my eyes and my chest racked with sobs. Such fucking loud sobs I hadn’t shed since that night, years ago.
“Hush,” Sia whispered, crying right along with me. Her hand gripped mine, and I fucking held on. Held on to her like she was the only thing keeping me afloat. A hand squeezed my shoulder; I knew it was Cowboy. The action mirrored the one I felt that night. I didn’t dare look him in the face. I wasn’t sure I could. Couldn’t look at the only other person who witnessed that fire. Saw them, hands splayed, calling for help . . . because they fucking dared fall in love.
“It was me . . .” I whispered. “It was all because of me.” My body was drained of energy. Sia guided me to lie down. The room started to spin. She curled into my chest, her hands clutching mine. I caught sight of Cowboy sitting on the end of the bed, eyes unfocused as he stared out the window.
“It wasn’t, baby.” Sia ran her hand down my wet face.
“But it was.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “We stayed in a motel until everything was sorted.” I gestured to Cowboy. “The authorities said it was an accident. Some malfunction-of-the-oven bullshit.”
“See,” she said, trying to soothe.
“But we got a note. Under our motel door—” My words cut off, my limbs becoming leaden. I knew what was coming. Only this time, I was loath to fight it.
“It was the Klan.” I tensed, hearing Cowboy finish for me. Because that’s what he always did. Picked up the pieces I couldn’t carry. I kept my eyes shut, reading the note in my mind with him. “Said it was because they married out of their race.” Cowboy hissed, disgusted at their prejudice. “And for bringing a half-breed abomination into the world, an example had to made of them.”
“Me . . .” I said hoarsely. “They died because I was born.”
“No.” Sia yanked on my hand. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
“They called her a white whore. A traitor to the Aryan race.” I licked my dry lips. “They called her a black-loving slut.”
Sia’s face softened, then her expression changed to one of understanding. “Ky . . .” she whispered. “It’s why you went for him like you did.”
I nodded. “And they died because of my seizures.” My tongue felt too dry to speak, but I managed to force out, “She wasn’t supposed to have been there . . . it should have been me instead . . . but she stayed, waiting for me to come home, because I had a seizure. She would have waited to make sure I was okay.” The room tilted. “They . . . I ruin everything . . .”
Sia clutched my arm. My eyes glazed, and I began to taste the metallic flavor on my tongue. “Cowboy,” I slurred, just as a loud banging sound came from outside. Sia jumped, and Cowboy shot to his feet. No! I tried to scream, but nothing came out of my mouth. I fought for consciousness, fought to get off the bed. But
I couldn’t move.
“Get him hidden!” Cowboy called.
Sia tried to move me. “I can’t lift him!”
I must have blacked out, because when I came to, I was in a dark room somewhere. I heard the soft murmuring of voices outside, then the sound of car doors shutting and a high-pitched scream. Confused, I tried to place where I was. Tried to understand what was happening. But the darkness drew me back under before I could.
And I couldn’t fight it anymore.
Chapter Ten
Hush
My eyes snapped open. It was pitch black. I wondered where the hell I was . . . then fragmented pieces of lost memory began flooding into my mind. I shook my head as the sound of deeply spoken Spanish words circled above my head . . . heavy footsteps on wooden floorboards . . . screams, shouting . . . and the sound of gunshots being fired.
No . . . I scrambled to get up. My head hit something immediately above me. I looked up. Light was creeping through some slats. My hand hit the wood above me. It moved a little, yet somehow it was sealed shut. I pushed and pushed, using what little strength I still had to force it open. With a snap, the wood gave way; it was a door, built into the floorboards of Sia’s closet downstairs.
“Sia!” I called as I climbed out, my voice quiet and hoarse—the after-effects of the seizure. I needed water. My mouth was bone dry. But my feet led me through the house instead. I checked each room, my heart beating faster with every step. “Aubin!” My chest tightened. Every room I went in was trashed, furniture thrown over on its side. “No,” I whispered, my skin slick with sweat.
I burst out of the front door. I ran as fast as I could toward the barn. I saw the blood coming from under the stalls before I’d even flicked on the light.
I didn’t bother looking, knowing that all Sia’s prized horses had been killed . . . then my feet ground to a stop when I saw a hand on the floor, blood pooled around the fingers as it lay limply on the concrete.
I was welded to the spot. Because it was a female hand. “Sia,” I whispered. My legs shook, but I made them move. I couldn’t breathe as I rounded the corner. Every fucking part of me was braced to find her gone. Then when dark hair came into view, I exhaled a quick breath and jumped to the girl’s side. “Clara,” I called gently and checked her pulse. But I didn’t need to . . . her eyes were staring up at the ceiling, frozen, Hades’ hand clutching her firmly in his death grip.
A gunshot wound tracked through to the center of her heart.
Shit. I got to my feet, searching around me, trying to figure out what the fuck to do. I raced back toward the house. I opened the garage door, jumping on the old Harley. I gunned it out of the ranch and onto the back roads that would lead me to the Hangmen.
With each mile the bike ate up, I tried to think on how long I was out . . . and who the fuck put me under the floorboards. And more than that, why the fuck didn’t they get in there too?
Clara had been warm, but below normal body temperature, which told me she had been there a while. “Fuck!” I screamed into the wind slapping my face.
Garcia. It had to be.
“Fuck!” I screamed again and turned right toward the compound. My hands shook on the handlebars. My body wanted to rest, but there was no fucking way that was happening.
Aubin.
Sia.
Fuck!
Zane and Lil’ Ash sat on the gate. I pulled to a halt. I saw them look at each other, obviously worried. “Open the fucking gate!” I yelled, revving the engine.
They looked at each other again. I was suspended. They’d have been given orders not to let me or Cowboy near this place. “It’s an emergency!”
Zane went for the cell, but Lil’ Ash met my eyes. Clearly seeing something on my face, he let me in. The gate had barely opened when I tore through it. I practically threw the bike to a stop and launched off the saddle. I ran, swaying slightly, and burst into the bar. The minute I did, my brothers jumped to their feet, hands on their guns.
AK rolled his eyes. “Fuck, Hush. Thought we were getting invaded.” His sniper eyes narrowed, and he pushed past Viking to say, “What’s wrong? You look like shit.”
“I need to see—”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Ky barreled out of the prez’s office and beelined for me. His blue eyes, the same fucking eyes as Sia’s, were red and tired . . . but filled with fucking wrath.
“They’ve got her,” I answered. Ky stopped dead in his tracks. I felt my face contort with fear and rage. “They’ve fucking got them both.”
The color drained from Ky’s cheeks. The brother didn’t move. Styx pushed past him and got in my face. His hands flew in sign, but the few words I’d managed to learn were a blur as I struggled to focus, still feeling the effects of the seizure.
“I don’t know what you’re saying!” I shouted.
AK stepped beside Styx, keeping his eyes on his hands. “What happened? Who got them?”
I shook my head, my feet needing to move, to go after them. But I didn’t know where the fuck they were.
“Garcia, I think . . .” I squeezed my eyes shut, racking my head for some kind of memory. “I heard Spanish . . .” I opened my eyes to find Styx’s eyes boring into mine. I dropped my gaze to the floor. My hand ran over my shaved head, over and over again, just so I had fucking something to do with it. “They killed all her horses.” I felt the tension in the room rise. “And her assistant . . . Clara. Fuck, the bitch was too young. Shot her in the heart.”
“Where were you?” AK asked the question, but I knew it had come from Styx. I was mute, the need to keep my seizures hidden soldering shut my lips.
“Where the fuck were you?” Ky’s voice was like death itself. I kept my head down, my heart fucking kicking into a sprint. Two hands slammed onto my chest and knocked me back. I collided with a table and chairs. I kept my ground, but once again Ky’s hands were on my cut, pulling me to smash against his chest. “Why have my sister and Cowboy been taken and you fucking haven’t? You were there, protecting her! Why the fuck has she gone, but you’re here?” he snarled. “Is it because you’re a fucking pussy? Because you fucking saw them coming and saved yourself? I should never have let you near her. You don’t fucking belong with her. Saving yourself, and—”
“Because I’m epileptic, motherfucker!” I smacked his hands from my cut and fucking pushed him back. I was done. So fucking done. Done with it all. With all these fuckers who kept saying I didn’t belong. I was fucking done. “I’m epileptic and I had a fucking seizure.” I went for him again, but hands grabbed me around the waist. I glanced down, seeing Nazi shit against my cut, and I fucking saw red. I spun and smashed my fist into Tanner’s jaw. His head snapped back. Tank dove forward and pulled Tanner back from my flying fists.
I turned, panting, and glared at Ky. “And I fucking belong with her. With both of them!” Tears of rage built behind my eyes. If Cowboy were here, he would be telling me to calm down. But he wasn’t. They’d fucking taken him . . . taken her . . . and I was out here on my fucking own.
“Let’s speak the fucking truth, brother. It’s because I’m black. You didn’t want your sister with a fucking half-breed, right? A mongrel?” I knew I should shut my mouth, but I couldn’t stop now I’d started. “The coon failed on protecting your sister—your sister who you’d just thrown to the fucking wolves, no protection of the ranch, because she was fucking a spook. If it had just been Cowboy, you wouldn’t have given two shits. But because I was there too, it became a real fucking issue for your Aryan self. Yeah, VP?” Ky opened his mouth, but I couldn’t stop. “This fucking club! You’re all just like everyone else! You only just started letting anyone of color in ten years ago. Only white brothers up until then.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. My stomach twisted with dread. “Four hours,” I guessed, and felt my fucking heart shred. “It’s been about four hours since they were taken.”
“It ain’t because you’re black.” Ky’s voice was like thunder in the silent
room. I worked on breathing. I worked on calming my pulse. I just worked on not falling apart when my best friend, my fucking brother, and the bitch I was fucking in love with . . . the only ones I’d ever let in . . . had been taken by a trafficker. A sadistic bastard who wanted to own Sia . . . and would probably kill Aubin for the inconvenience that she loved him too.
Ky’s boots entered my peripheral vision. “I couldn’t give two shits that you’re black. Fuck, you could be neon pink, or even a ginger—”
“Hey!” I heard Vike protest.
“But it ain’t because you’re black.”
“You get seizures?” AK asked. Looking up, I saw that Styx’s hands had been working.
“I’m coming to Mexico. I’m not staying behind. That’s my fucking bitch and best friend they’ve taken. I’m not getting grounded. And if I ain’t going with you, I’m going alone. I had a fucking seizure, and they moved me. Hid me, so I wasn’t taken. I don’t know why they didn’t hide too.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I woke up to fucking carnage, and them gone.”
Styx’s jaw clenched. He lifted his hands. “Not grounding you,” AK said, translating. The massive brother came to stand next to Ky. “You should’ve told us,” AK went on, following Styx’s hands.
“How do we get them back?”
“Church, now,” Ky ordered, and we all followed.
Ky spoke, translating for Styx. “We know where he lives. We’ve been there before.” I thought back to Sia, to how she said she managed to get out. Styx glanced at Ky, then the rest of us, and said, “I’ve been in close contact with Chavez, the Diablos’ prez. He agreed to help if shit went south with Garcia.”
Styx paused, and Ky, this time, spoke for himself. “Garcia is part of the Quintana cartel. When we went in before, he had a small operation; now it’s huge. Alfonso Quintana, the cartel boss, invested heavily in Garcia’s business.” Ky rolled his hand into a fist on the tabletop. “He doesn’t just traffic bitches now. He moves guns and snow.”