Blood & Rust (Lock & Key Book 4)

by Cat Porter

  The madness slammed into me.

  Tears filled my eyes, and my chest caved in. I sucked in a breath.

  Butler took my hand in his and kissed it gently. “I’m right here, Scarlett. Right here. Not leaving you,” he whispered.

  Willy stood in the doorway with an oversize steaming white mug in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other.

  “How she doin’?” he asked. That warm voice, a hint of a Texas drawl to it, wrapped around me.

  I stared at him, his dark blue eyes firmly on mine. Eyes that I’d known for years.

  My heart squeezed at the memories of his kindness to me when I used to tag along, against my will, with Grace to the club a generation ago. I was the scared girl desperate to mask her anxiety with an armor of stainless steel cool. From the very beginning, Grace had been right at home among the Jacks but not me. Willy had seen right through me and used to tease me mercilessly, but he spoke my language—a seamless flow of irony and barbs. I’d teased him right back until, eventually, we were both laughing.

  Willy’s best friend, Wreck had been stern and introverted while Willy was relaxed and easygoing. Of course, Willy liked his women really young, too, so that could have been a part of it, but he was good to me, respectful even, because of Grace, and I’d always appreciated that. And we’d actually enjoyed each other’s company.

  We’d picked up right where we’d left off when he worked at my store, creating a remarkable array of shelves, platforms, stands, a front desk, while giving me all kinds of design advice and going over my options. We’d made a good team.

  “Willy,” I murmured.

  He handed me the mug and opened the bottle. “How much you need, baby girl?”

  “Enough to make me smile again.”

  “You got it.” He poured the booze in my tea and leaned over. He planted a quick kiss on my forehead, his trimmed beard brushing against my skin, a hand at the side of my face.

  Warring emotions sprang up like a flooding river sloshing over its banks. I took a careful sip of the hot tea, but it did nothing to control the tide. Tears streamed down my face, and he silently took the mug from my hands and put it on the side table.

  Willy sat at the edge of the bed and put an arm around me. His distinct aroma of Brut, cigars, and pine made my heart clutch with the need to have those days of my youth again.

  Uncomplicated days even if I didn’t think of them that way at the time.

  My head fell against Willy’s shoulder.

  My dad used to wear the same stupid Brut aftershave. After he’d died, my mother had kept his last bottle in her medicine cabinet for years and years. I would ignore it.

  A muffled cry escaped my lips.

  “Hey, hey, girl”—Willy took me deeper in his arms—“it’s all right now. It’s over. Over, you hear?”

  I sniffled and nodded my head against his shoulder as one heavy hand ran up and down my back.

  I hiccuped, sucking in his comforting scent.

  “Call Grace,” Butler said softly from somewhere above me.

  “She took the baby to the pediatrician earlier. I’ll call her,” replied Alicia. Her footsteps faded from the room.

  I peeked up at Willy, wiping at my eyes. “Sorry.”

  “You drink up and have a rest. Let us take care of you.”

  I nodded and wiped at my nose with a tissue, and he handed me back his mug of magic potion. I knocked back a healthy slug and forced my lips up into a grin.

  Willy stroked my leg. “There you go. I’ll check on you later. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He left the room, and I downed the rest of the searing liquid. I leaned back against the pillow, letting the warmth seep through my every jagged nerve. Butler stood over me at the side of the bed, hands on his hips, lips pressed together.

  “Don’t do that,” I said.

  “Do what?”

  “Be mad.”

  “I’m not mad.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m fucking furious.”

  “See? You’re doing that thing with your lips now, and I like your lips. But not when they’re like that.”

  He slanted his head to the side. “Making jokes isn’t going to make this go away.”

  “It will push it back though. It’s a special gift I have.”

  An uncomfortable silence stretched between us. He shifted his weight, glancing down at his boots.

  I thought he needed to stay as much as I needed him to. “Stay with me. Please?”

  He moved toward the bed, toward me. I scooted over, making it clear that I wanted him on the bed with me. He climbed on, the mattress dipping under his weight, and he took me in his arms. My heart skipped as I settled into his firm body. His long line of muscles squeezed around me as I brushed my hand over the stony slope of his chest.

  “I want to ask you a question, and I want you to be completely honest with me,” I said.

  “What is it?”

  “Do you really want Nina as your old lady, or is that just a business arrangement?”

  “That was two questions.”

  I nudged his leg with my foot. “To be clear—are you in love with her?”

  “Third question.”

  “Butler. Please.”

  His fingers tucked the edges of the bandage on my chest. “I’m not in love with her. It was an arrangement. She wanted to get away from Reich and her sister, get out of Ohio, and I needed a guarantee on a business deal. We agreed on a year together, and then we’d break it off.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh what?”

  “That’s interesting.”

  “How interesting?”

  “Extremely, absolutely, very, very interesting.”

  His fingers traced circles up and down my arms.

  “You took something from Reich though, didn’t you? Is that the guarantee part?”

  His fingers halted, and his body stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

  “He told me you took something of his, and he was determined to get it back and teach you both a lesson. And he admitted to me that he’s the one who rigged Nina’s car.”

  “Reich?”

  “Yes. He’s also planning on bringing the Smoking Guns together with the Broken Blades. Remember we had seen those two bikers at the restaurant in Sioux Falls?”

  “Ah, Jesus.” Butler’s head fell back against the headboard. “He’d do that to his own club? To Finger? Fuck, he’s totally off the wall.”

  “He’s out for blood. Back to my original question.” His eyes met mine, and I continued before I lost my nerve, “Is your deal with Nina still on? Even though things with Reich have literally exploded? Because you need to uncomplicate your life.”

  He took in a deep breath through his nose and pressed his face against mine. A low chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. “I do. How about you?”

  “How about me what?”

  “How’s your thing with Finger going?”

  “I already told you, there’s nothing going on with Finger.”

  “Uh-huh.” His sharp tone speared my gut like a fish hook.

  We needed to leave it at that for now. Explanations and in-depth analyses weren’t necessary at this very moment, and I was too exhausted anyhow. No, only sincerity remained, if we dared. Sincerity would wield an unexpected gentle power, and if treated with reverence, it could bear much and transform even more.

  “Can I confess something ridiculous?” I asked.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “I want my daddy.”

  “Why is that ridiculous?”

  “Because I’m a forty-something-year-old woman whose daddy died when she was barely a teenager.”

  “So what? You miss him. How old were you when he died?”

  “I was fourteen. I should be over it.”

  “Not if you were close to your dad.”

  My heart squeezed, and I turned my face into his throat. “I was. Very close. Were you close to your dad?”

  “No.
” He ran his fingers through my hair. “What happened to yours?”

  “He had a heart attack one morning while out on his tractor on the farm. It was our little patch of paradise, just past Meager. We lived there until he died. I miss that. I miss him. Anyway, we didn’t even know Dad had cardiac issues. I was supposed to be working with him that day, but I’d spent the night at Grace’s house instead, so we could watch some video over and over again, play with makeup, and then wake up late the next morning and do it all over again.”

  “You were a kid, Tan. What would you have done if you had been there? Watch him die, not be able to help him, and then be traumatized for the rest of your life?”

  I curled my fingers in his shirt. “He was alone. I would’ve been with him at least, held his hand, told him I loved him one last time. Ran for help. There was no one to call nine-one-one. Penny was away on an overnight class trip, and my mom was out of town with my brother, visiting some aunt. She got home and found him later that afternoon, all by himself, stiff in the cab of the Caterpillar.”

  His fingers stroked mine. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. It was too soon for Drew to lose him. Way too soon. Penny and my mom were always real close, Drew was the baby, and I was Daddy’s girl. After he died, I felt like I had nobody to lean on. I focused on showing Ma that she could count on me, that she could rely on me. Penny was going through her teen rebellion at the time and was much too busy flipping out. I didn’t want my mom to worry. I made sure things got done around the house, that Drew was fed and clean, that I pulled in good grades, and didn’t get in any trouble.”

  Butler pressed his lips against my brow.

  I swallowed past the mountainous lump in my throat. “Shit, I haven’t thought about all that in a long, long time.”

  He took my hand in both of his and rubbed at each finger, one by one. Tension melted off each digit with his careful stroking. “You still have the farm?”

  “No.”

  “You lost it?”

  “No, we sold it to one of dad’s cousins. Mom found a good job in Meager, and we moved into town. Life moved us along.”

  “That’s what life does.” He ran his knuckles down the side of my face. “Try to get some sleep now.”

  I settled back down on his chest while he hummed.

  “What is that?”

  “What?”

  “The song you’re humming.”

  He cleared his throat. “It’s ‘Maybe Tomorrow.’ Stereophonics.”

  “Can you sing?” I asked.

  A noise escaped the back of his throat. “I used to be in a band in high school,” he said. “Lead guitar and lead vocals.”

  “Really? So, my instincts about you were right, huh, Rhett?”

  “Yep.” Butler grinned. “We were fucking good, too. Something else I trashed and stomped on.”

  My fingers rubbed at the base of his warm throat. “Sing it for me.” I moved back from his chest, keeping a hand on his stomach. “Please.”

  He took in a breath, his middle expanding. His rich low voice filled my sore heart, my nicked soul, the thick quiet of the small room. The deeply warm, husky quality of his voice held me still, soothed me, stirred me. The lyrics pleaded, wished, full of grains of hope yet full of bittersweet resignation.

  I clung to him, his fingertips pressing into me. This song was me, and it was Butler wanting to find our way home, hoping for a better day, but knowing not to hope for too much.

  A tear slid down my face, pooling in my throat. I only wanted to ride the wave of emotions in his voice, feel every lyric, feel this stolen stillness with him as the Jacks were in some sort of full emergency mode beyond the walls of this small room.

  He sang the last note and let it go in a deep hum. His fingers played with the ends of my hair.

  “Did they touch you, Tania? You’ve got to tell me the truth.”

  “There was some groping.”

  He sucked in a tight breath, his hold on me tightening.

  “But that was it,” I said. “They threatened me with more to get to me, but they didn’t get a chance. It’s okay.”

  “No, babe, it’s not okay. Nothing’s okay. Don’t you see that? Through your association with me, you got punished; you became a victim.”

  “The craziness started when I stabbed Scrib when he got a little too friendly.”

  “You what?”

  “I stabbed him.”

  “Say again?”

  “I stabbed Scrib.”

  “With what? You have a concealed weapon on you?”

  “Wreck’s lipstick knife, remember? It’s a sweet little piece.”

  “Tania—”

  “Apart from the aesthetics, I thought I’d keep it handy, just in case. And, boy, did it come in handy. Didn’t get me far, but in the end, I used it to get Scrib off of you, too. So, that was very good. Otherwise, you would have been in a hospital bed right about now. Did any of the guys grab it at the cabin? Because I’d really like to keep it.”

  “Jesus, Tan. I’ll ask them.”

  I picked at a bloodstain on his T-shirt. His hand clamped over mine.

  “You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. All that’s on me, and I will never forgive myself.”

  “You’re not responsible for Reich being nuts,” I said.

  “He’s mad at me, got a beef with me, and he took it out on you. See how that works?”

  I held his gaze. “You got me out of there.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Look at me that way. I’m no savior. I’m the reason you got taken. I’m the reason he hurt you.”

  “You’re not the bad guy here. Reich is. Reich is the one instigating trouble. Reich is the one to blame.”

  He smoothed the hair from my face. His jaw was set. “You got hurt today, hurt bad.”

  “Yes, and it was awful, but—”

  “Tania, stop. Stop.”

  “No.” I smoothed my hands across his chest. “Listen to me. You are not to blame.”

  His face was ashen. He was exhausted, worn out.

  I ran my hand down his cheek. “Do you feel okay?”

  “That depends on what you mean exactly.”

  I gently pressed my lips to his, and he sucked in a tiny breath at the contact. His face seemed pained.

  “Butler.” I kissed him again, the taste of him arousing something fundamental in me, something primal breaking free.

  His cool forehead slid to mine, our lips a breath apart. He was fighting this.

  I kissed him again, and a small groan escaped his throat. His hand fisted in my hair at the back of my head, his eyes wild, his fingers gripping my face.

  “Today could’ve ended very differently.” His voice was a rough whisper. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

  My heart doubled over. “You didn’t lose me. You found me.”

  Oh, I wasn’t talking about only today.

  “You found me,” I said. “You did that.”

  “I put you in danger yet again.”

  Butler was on a ledge, and I had to get him down. I had to get him to focus, to hear what I was saying.

  “I’m here with you right now, and I can feel you all around me—your heat, your breath, your heartbeat. Now, you show me what you’re feeling.” I held his tense gaze. “Show me.”

  He brought his mouth closer to mine, and my lips parted for him, his warm breath heating my skin. I could almost taste him. I was poised on the edge of his cliff.

  “Show me,” I whispered, my hands sliding up his back, his dense muscles flexing under my touch.

  He bent slightly, his tongue swiping through my lips, licking, stroking mine, taking my breath away. His hand wrapped around my neck, and the other fisted in my hair while he tasted, he drank, he savored. He pulled back again, his eyes piercing mine, his breath ragged.

  “Show me,” I breathed.

  Butler took my mouth in a wild kiss, and our tongues found each other again.
Raw emotion and aching need surged through me. He unleashed a groan, and a burning heat seeped through my insides at the sound, at the press of his fingers gripping my face. He fed my hunger, and I fed his.

  “What are you doing to me?” His thumb stroked the side of my mouth.

  “What you’ve done to me.” I kissed his thumb and took his hand in mine. “And your seductive singing voice has only made things worse.”

  He chuckled, the lines of his face finally relaxing. “Well, in that case, you want to hear my version of ‘Riders on the Storm’ next?”

  “No.”

  “‘Gimme Shelter’?”

  I shoved at his side.

  “I was kidding. How about ‘Wild Horses’?”

  “Hmm. Perfect.”

  His fingers slid through my hair, and I leaned against him and closed my eyes. He sang that beautiful song to me so gently, a sensual lullaby. An ache bloomed inside me for him, for his lost happiness, for the tenderness burning in his soul. I focused on his voice, on his touch, and I willed them to blot out the images of Reich and Scrib dancing behind my eyes. All the tension in my body eased and faded.

  Bikes throttled in the distance, and the clamor in the building had now waned.

  I sank into Butler’s beautifully rugged voice vibrating through his large powerful body, a body that clung to mine. And, in those lingering notes of music, we both clung to a thousand tiny hopes, which seemed elusive as grains of sand.

  THE SENSATION OF BEING CHASED was overwhelming, and my body jerked awake.

  Butler only gathered me in his arms tighter, a hand cradling my head. “Shh. I’m here, Scarlett. I’m the one holding you. I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”

  I trembled, a cold sweat beading on my skin. He caressed my back and sang to me as I curled into his chest. His beautiful voice unclenched the steel clamp of Scrib’s eyes from my soul, unleashed Reich’s laughter from my ears.

  The next time I woke up, I was alone. A quick glance at my phone confirmed it was finally morning.

  I sat up slowly in the bed and took in a breath, my feet touching the floor. I shuffled to the bathroom, and stared at my dull reflection in the small mirror. I pulled the V of the huge T-shirt further down my chest and tugged the tape from my skin releasing the bandage.