by Lana Grayson
He finally spoke about Rose with me, but confessing to his past was nothing like hearing her fear over the phone.
Brew punished himself every minute of every day, but when confronted with the ultimate reaper of his sins—no matter how gentle and timid she whispered for her brother—Brew lost himself in the concussion of his grief.
He’d leave me for her.
And what did I expect? All the talk of trust and protection and keeping me alive? It wasn’t me he was protecting. It was her.
Except I couldn’t blame him. And I’d never blame her.
He was right all along. It was my fault for getting into the trouble. My fault for hopping into bed with Goliath. My fault for the ink on my neck, the bruises on my cheek, and the lies I spun to shield myself and those I loved from my own irresponsibility.
Brew would to leave to save his family—rescue the little sister born into a world of vile corruption and absolute agony.
I didn’t try to escape. I didn’t go to school or attempt to get out. I applied to the first bar in a rough neighborhood and strapped a corset over my chest. I had no one to blame but myself.
The shattered remnants of my pride scattered over the room. Panties on the floor. Shoes kicked near the door. It wasn’t the nudity that bothered me, not when the only thing I still wore was the pink scarf concealing my branding. At least that was covered. At least when I offered my heart and crashed into a million pieces of confusion, adoration, and submission for a man who hadn’t even held me as we fucked, I hadn’t exposed the worst of me colored with the ink of another’s name.
Take me with you.
The words slipped out before I realized what I said. I shivered. Mostly from our pleasure, even if Brew didn’t trust himself enough to touch me, to taste me, to hold me. But a new shudder stole my breath. The cold, bone-breaking, mind-clouding, break of my body.
It was fear.
Utter fear.
And I wasn’t used to being so afraid.
Isolation scared me, but I managed so far. I’d run, stay two steps ahead of Sacrilege with Red’s help. I didn’t want to face the wrath of the country’s worst MCs, but as long as I had boots on the ground and a tube of lip gloss, a shimmy and smile would get me out of anything.
But I couldn’t smirk my way any closer to Brew.
And it killed me.
Asking to join him was just another bad decision. Brew’s vengeance consumed him. While he hunted for blood, nothing but rage pumped in his veins. He didn’t let me edge into his heart while it belonged to another woman. And I understood why, with every fracturing beat of my own heart, I knew why he gave himself to Rose.
What would remain of him after he killed his father? His guilt would never fade, and a lifetime of shame haunted his thoughts. I couldn’t lose his protection and his soul in the same moment.
And so I said it.
I reminded him.
He bared his innermost demons, and I sent him back to hell with a new burden of sins. I needed his help, and I earned it through his remorse.
He took me in his arms and comforted me as if it were Goliath I feared and not the possibility of losing the only man who might have healed me from the sickness that attracted danger. I fell harder than ever. It wasn’t a hand curled around my throat or a thick paw gripping my hair. Brew’s embrace promised more than a quick thrill and adrenaline rush. His strength controlled me, and I obeyed his every command to rest and sleep.
We’d leave in the morning.
He thought himself a monster. I envied that. I’d rather believe I was evil as a result of my blood. Instead I was a puppet-master. When charm didn’t work, a trembling voice got what I wanted.
Another night with me and he might have forgotten about Rose.
Another night with me, and I would have conquered him without ropes or bindings, brandings on his neck or veiled threats.
I tucked into his arms, snuggling against the severe streaks of ink blackening his chest. He breathed hard, as desperate as me.
He almost left me.
Maybe he should have.
At least if he did, he’d be safe from me. If he traveled outside the state, beyond Sacrilege and Kingdom’s territory, I’d pretend I did what they ordered. They expected me to kill him? The gun would turn on me before it happened.
The night passed in sweaty, restless tension. I doubted he slept at all. Brew went to find breakfast before the sun rose, but my stomach gorged itself on dread. He slipped from the room before I got up. The blankets fell to my hip. He looked, but he still didn’t touch.
My nudity didn’t bother me—I shielded my body in a layer of foul grime. He’d never see me through it, and, if he did, it’d be the last time he’d ever approach me.
I showered and dressed, throwing my belongings in my pack before Brew changed his mind. The phone rested heavy in my hand. I had a few minutes at least.
Red answered on the first ring. Apparently he wasn’t sleeping either.
“This better be good news,” he said.
“What would be good news?”
“Christ, it’s been so long since I had any, I’ve forgotten what it is.”
“How are things down there?”
“It’d be a hell of a lot better if you delivered me a dead biker.”
I flinched. My t-shirt wasn’t enough to shield me from my shivers. I put Red on speakerphone and pumped the volume as I dug through my bag for something warmer. Nothing fought that chill.
“Not doing it,” I said.
“Martini—”
“No way. Absolutely not.” I kicked the chair out and sunk into it. My cell tossed onto the desk. “I’m not going to hurt him.”
“Then what the fuck will you do?”
“Find another way to save our asses.”
Red sighed. “You don’t have any more time. Kingdom is out for blood. They will find you and murder you. Give them Noir, and you’ll get out of this without them touching a hair on your head.”
I didn’t even have split ends. I’d risk it. “No.”
“You’re going to die.”
“No, I’m not. We’re leaving.”
“Kingdom’s got men looking everywhere from Pittsburgh to Philly.”
“We’re going to California.”
He swore. The wheels in his head turned, but I didn’t realize how severely the cogs would jam and spark.
“You’re going where?”
“He got a call. Family thing. He has to go home.”
“Where the fuck is Noir from?”
“I told you. West coast.”
I heard his impatience. “What club, Martini?”
The crisp, black lettering struck over Brew’s chest teased me. The word tingled on my lips. Strange. I wasn’t supposed to know where he was from or why he had left. The secret shadowed me as much as him. Every decision he made to protect me only placed him in greater danger.
“Anathema.”
“Ana—” Red swore. “Anathema?”
“You’ve heard of them?”
“Jesus Christ!”
“Uh-oh.”
Red exhaled. “They’re not a recreational club. They dropped the petty shit years ago and got mixed in bigger things. Drugs. Trafficking. Whatever. They’re hardcore motherfuckers, and that’s when they’re not killing each other in the streets. And you’re going with him back there? Why the fuck did he leave in the first place?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated enough he didn’t black the ink out?”
I swallowed. “He’s not leaving to start shit. He needs to deal with some family issues.”
“And you think he’s going to let you hop on the bike and take you home to meet his folks?”
I didn’t want to meet his father, and he hadn’t said anything about his mother. It didn’t take a therapist to assume the worst.
“He’s getting me out of here. That’s what’s important.”
“And how’d you convince him to do that?�
�
I bit my lip as Red chuckled on the other end of the phone.
“We…made an agreement.”
“Oh, that I can believe.” He laughed. I didn’t share it. “You must have really gotten under his skin if he’s taking you to the one place more dangerous than this warzone.”
“Christ, Red, he said he’d help me.”
“Yeah, help. Not drag across the country.”
I rubbed my forehead. The headache didn’t dissipate. “I have it under control.”
“He’s not helping you out of the goodness of his heart.”
“You don’t understand.”
“And you better be goddamned sure you do.” Red’s voice lowered. “Maybe he’s planning on whoring you off to finance his trip.”
“He’s not,” I said.
“Bullshit.”
“For Christ’s sake, Red, I have him wrapped around my little finger. He’s helping me. I didn’t give him a choice.”
“Sure. Until someone waves another couple grand under his nose. He’s a mercenary, Tini. He doesn’t care about you.”
That hurt. The speakerphone threw his voice and made his words way too loud. “You don’t even know him.”
“He threw you on his bike and was willing to trade you to an MC for the right price.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Because everyone was dead.”
“What the hell is your problem?” I debated hanging up on him. I might have done it too, if I weren’t so terrified of losing his voice and risking the silence. “You told me to stick close to him. To bat my eyelashes and make him want to help me. Well, I did. He trusts me.”
“And what’s to stop him from hurting you?”
I answered too quickly. “Because he thinks that I’m his second chance. He won’t make the same mistake again.”
“What?”
“His sister.” Why was I telling him? I bared another man’s secrets to keep my own safe, and I hated doing it. “His little sister was sexually abused by their father. He didn’t know what was happening when she was a kid, so he never helped her. He’s making up for it now. He’ll protect me from the same dangers.”
Red laughed. “You? A damsel in distress? What’d you do? Tell him you were afraid of Goliath? You needed a big, strong man to protect you?”
I was glad I wasn’t facing a mirror. I couldn’t look at myself. Not now.
“Yes, I did.”
“And he’s buying that?”
I shrugged. “He’s helping me, isn’t he?”
Red’s abrupt laugh flushed my cheeks. “Oh, I get it. You slept with him.”
“Go to hell.”
He whistled. “I don’t blame you.”
“What? You want to fuck him?”
“You did what you had to do. You wanna ride a man’s bike, you gotta hop on his dick first.”
It wasn’t like that at all. My chest ached, but I had no idea how to even correct Red. Not when what passed between me and Brew last night was a revelation in every dark and secret part of me. Our intimacy was nothing short of sacred. I didn’t want to share it, especially to a frustrating cousin who didn’t know when to quit.
“Are you coming back?” Red asked.
“Maybe. This shit with his sister is bad. Real bad. He has to make sure she’s okay.”
“Never imagined a tough guy like him would be so fucked up by a baby sister.”
“Yeah. Just my luck.”
The door slammed behind me.
Every bone in my body fractured as if I was trapped between the door and the frame.
I didn’t look up.
I didn’t have to.
I knew he was there.
And he heard everything.
My heart ceased to pound, fearing any strike against my ribs would crumble me to dust. I ended the call without saying goodbye, but I didn’t move from the desk.
A chill rolled from the doorway, a menacing cold as quick as a bullet and as final as a grave.
“Please let me explain.” The whisper wasn’t me begging. I asked for a permission I didn’t deserve.
Brew’s voice changed. A summoned strength pierced the anger he lost to three months of grief. His threatening growl returned, the guarded warning he wielded before he let me close.
It wasn’t Brew’s deep rumble. He spoke with Noir’s callous bite.
“Not much to explain, Darling,” he said.
“Let me try.”
“No.”
The word stung like a blow to the cheek. I stood anyway. The chair tipped over behind me, but Brew ignored everything but the packed bag waiting for him near the door.
“It wasn’t what it sounded like!” I held my hands out. “Please.”
His eyes darkened into the heavy threat of every hatred he reserved for himself.
Only this time, it aimed for me.
“I trusted you. I told you about Rose.”
I nodded. I knew better than to rush to him. Years of experience kept me out of arm’s reach, beyond the swipe of a palm or the threat of a fist. “But you don’t understand. I had to tell Red something.”
“All your talk about protection and trust?” He didn’t raise his voice, but I felt every syllable crash into my gut. “You fucked me to get me to help you.”
“Brew, that wasn’t why we...” I groaned and covered my eyes with my hands. It did nothing. When I looked up, everything was still there. Broken. Ruined. “I do trust you. And I do need your help. Let me explain, and then we can leave and go find Rose—”
“Don’t.” The word was a knife to my throat. “Don’t you say her fucking name.”
Brew reached into his vest, crumpling an envelope of money and slamming it onto the table. He didn’t look at me.
“That’s a couple thousand. It’ll get you home.”
“I can’t go home.”
“Not my problem.” His stare pierced through me with all the violence of his words. “Why don’t you twist your cousin around your finger? Get him to help you?”
Christ, he didn’t understand. He didn’t want to understand.
My greatest fear welled within my chest, bursting though through every bruised part of me he exposed. I ached and shivered and wound so tight against panic my breath shuddered over the words. I crumbled as he reached for the door.
“They want me to kill you!”
Brew stopped. Took a breath. When he turned, the hardened lines in his face and grey in his hair shadowed with a new revulsion, something fresh and vibrant that cloaked him in rage.
“Who wants you to kill me?”
“Sacrilege.”
His fury terrified me. The edge in his stare. The hardness of his jaw. The strength surging through his fists. Goliath menaced and hurt, but he threw a punch to prove what a big man he was. Brew didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. If he struck, it was for his own revenge.
The panic attack squeezed too tight. My vision tunneled, and I held my head to ease the pressure. It didn’t help.
“I was supposed to kill you,” I said. “It was meant to appease Kingdom. If I murdered you, it’d prove Sacrilege’s alliance. They wouldn’t hurt me.”
“You didn’t do it.”
“I couldn’t hurt you.” I left it unsaid why I refused the order. It didn’t matter. His cold stare shattered my last confidence.
“Seems like I’m more useful dead than alive,” Brew said.
“That’s not true.”
“Gotta be dead to kill my father.” He dropped his bag only to rip the coat from his shoulders. The jacket landed on the table next to the money. “Gotta be dead so no one fucks with you anymore.”
“I understand you’re upset, but I didn’t mean what I said to Red.”
“Every word you fucking say is a manipulation.”
He wasn’t wrong, but the truth hurt more than if he had hit me.
“You wink and dance. You flirt and fuck. And you get your way every goddamned time.”
“Only b
ecause I had to—”
“Did you ever mean anything you ever said to me?”
“Brew.”
“Lie to me, and I’ll hogtie you to the bike and deliver you to Goliath on a silver fucking platter.”
I believed him. My stomach tightened, but I had nothing in me to lose. All my fears and insecurities already scattered before him. He didn’t care.
“I had to get away from Goliath.” I hesitated. “At first…I said anything to get you to help. I knew you didn’t want to take me to Kingdom. And I saw through you. You were so sad. I…I did what I had to.”
“God damn it.”
“But I swear to you, Brew, I haven’t lied to you. I do trust you. I do need your help. And what we did last night—”
“Was another one of your fucking tricks.”
“No!”
“The saddest part is that I saw how you worked. I watched you do it. You tamed Goliath. You got your club eating out of your hand. You even convinced Red to get you the laptop. Lies and manipulation. You use people to fix your own damned problems.”
“You’re right.” I wasn’t going to argue with the truth, but I wasn’t letting him leave without a fight. “I admit it. I get into trouble, and that’s how I escape it. But you’re different. I swear.”
He ignored me. “Take the jacket with you when you crawl to Goliath. Tell them you stabbed me in the fucking back or ate my heart or whatever the hell you think you’re most capable of.”
“Don’t leave.”
“I got work to do,” Brew said. “Take the jacket and tell them I’m dead. It’ll buy you some time until you find another blind asshole to save you.”
“Please, listen to me!”
“You got nothin’ good to say, Darling.” His words broke me. “Nothing I want to listen to anymore.”
The door closed behind him. My heart broke quicker than my fear.
Everything I tried to say silenced on my lips.
Everything I tensed to do stilled my movements.
Nothing I did would bring him back. No quick smile. No sway of my hips. I could call his name as sweet as candy, with sultry desire, or in absolute terror, and the throttle of his bike would muffle my every apology.
I was on my own.
And I had a lot of work to do if I wanted to survive the night alone.
It wasn’t enough to be hunted and wanted for murder. I had to hold the gun to my own head.