All at once, the man on my back is removed as Ryan and Jake appear, tugging me to my feet.
“Remi, baby, are you okay?” Brody asks me, his eyes never leaving my uncle.
“He killed Henry.” I whisper, seeing the blood on the floor, underneath where Henry’s body is slumped over the chair.
“Get her out of here!” Brody barks to Jake and Ryan.
They each try and toss my arms over their shoulders, wanting to help me get to the car, but I pull myself from their grasp. As long as I have breath in my fucking lungs, then my job isn’t done yet.
“If anyone gets to kill him, it’s me.” I yell, jerking the gun out of Ryan’s holster on his side.
With trembling hands, I aim the gun at my uncle. I’m so weak that flipping off the safety feels like wading through quicksand. But I don’t even get to fire off a shot before he does, sending a bullet straight toward Brody.
“No!” The scream is so fierce that the path it makes when it’s ripped from my lungs feels like I’ve swallowed a jagged blade.
Everything seems to fade away except for that bullet. I don’t know if it’s being on the brink of death that forces the world to appear as if it’s moving in slow motion or the fact that nothing has ever felt more important than this very moment. All I know is that I see the bullet suspended in the air, aiming straight for the heart of the man I love. A man that I refuse to lose. A man who is worth saving, a million times over.
But I just have to save him one last time.
Pushing off the ground with a force I didn’t think my body possessed in its wrecked state, I throw myself in front of Brody, just in time for the bullet to sink in my chest.
A pain that can only be described as liquid lava pierces its way through my body, seizing my muscles as I free-fall in the air.
My body hits the ground with a cracking sound as a piercing scream bounces off the walls of the bar, making me cringe with its intensity. It takes me several seconds to realize that the scream came from me.
As my eyelids flutter, I see my uncle toss a chair in the air before attempting to flee to the back hallways. Brody, Ryan, and Jake are all saying stuff, but I can’t hear a single word. The ringing in my ears too loud to hear anything else. All I can focus on is my rat bastard of an uncle, attempting to leave this bar alive.
And that is something I just can’t allow.
While the guys are all distracted by trying to take care of me, I fight off the darkness wrapping itself around my vision as much as I can, aiming the gun at my uncle’s retreating form.
One shot after another, I continuously pull the trigger until I see his body drop. Once he’s on the ground, I keep firing until the clip is empty.
My hand drops to the side, the gun clattering to the ground sliding out of my reach. My eyelids feel heavy and begin to droop as exhaustion and blood loss pull me under. I feel Brody’s arms circle my limp form, words pouring off of his lips that I can’t understand as he tugs me into his embrace.
As my eyelids fall, my body too weak to hold them open anymore, somewhere above me, two words make their way through the fog.
“He’s dead.”
A smile slowly takes over my face at the words I’ve wanted to hear since I was six years old. My monsters are gone, and they’re never coming back. They’ll never find me or anyone I love ever again.
The small smile stays glued to my lips as I surrender to the darkness that’s pulling at my consciousness.
Yeah, I’ll die a martyr, but so did Henry. At the end of the day, at the end of our lives, that has to be enough.
I’m coming, Henry. I’m coming.
Chapter Twenty
Brody
I’m going to go to prison for real if these bastards don’t let me out of here to go check on my girl. I will lose my goddamn mind if I don’t see her face soon. If I can’t put my hand on her heart and feel it beating under my touch…
They can even come with me, they can ask me as many questions as they want and I’ll answer every single one of them. Hell, I’ll take the blame for everything if I have to. I’ll sell my soul to a fucking crossroads demon if it gets me out of this room and to the hospital to see Remi.
But here I sit.
And nothing I seem to say or do gets me any closer to my little wolf.
I swear, Shane is being deliberately obtuse, challenging these bastards at every turn. I think he gets off on it. I keep waiting on him to say those magic words. You know, the ones from the movies. ‘Either charge my client, or we’re leaving.’ But his dick must be raging hard right now because he can’t stop arguing with them long enough to get us out of here.
I’ve given my statement. I’ve said the same fucking things to the last four feds we’ve talked to. I’ve looked in their eyes and done everything short of rip my own heart out, doing everything they’ve asked, and I’m still no closer to seeing my girl.
“Why are we still here?” I ask, my fist bouncing off the steel table before I’ve even realized that I’ve hit it.
My patience is fucking gone! I can’t and won’t apologize for that.
Shane looks at me with a smirk, and I wish I knew him well enough to understand his mannerisms. Abel is closer to him than the rest of us are. His body language is enough to tell me that he’s trying to tell me something, but infuriatingly enough, I don’t have a single clue what it could be.
“Mr. Cummings, I have a dozen dead bodies and two more in the hospital, one of which being a fellow agent. I’m sure you can understand and even sympathize with the severity of the situation we’re in right now.”
“I understand that you assholes are keeping me here when you already know what happened. Remington has been in WitSec for years, running from these bastards. You’ve seen her file, you know what she lived through...”
“Mr. Cummings… “The agent interrupts.
But I keep going. I’m not going to let these bullshit political games derail me any longer. They’re out of their goddamn minds if they think I give a shit about whatever they have to say.
“She almost died bringing them down and she lost a father figure in the process.” I scream, officially hitting my limit with civility.
I’m. Fucking. Done!
“Her handler almost died and now they’re both fighting for their lives across town because the rest of you couldn’t do your goddamn jobs. It all looks pretty cut and fucking dry to me. So unless you’re dishing out blowjobs to thank all of us for contributing to bringing down some of the dirtiest motherfuckers on the planet, I’m leaving.”
I rise from my seat and Shane shakes his head, attempting to stifle his smile. Yeah, I just told a room full of federal agents that they should suck my dick as a thank you, I don’t fucking care.
I let Shane lead the way, knowing that he wouldn’t open that door if I didn’t have the right to walk out of it. Just as I’m about to pass through, I turn to the room full of pencil-pushing dickwads and give them the last bit of free advice that I’m willing to dish out.
“One of your own fucking turned on you for a payday.” I start, causing bulging eyes and gasps of shock and confusion.
I’m unforgiving with the way I make eye contact with each and every one of them before I continue. I want to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have their undivided attention when I tell them the shit they should already fucking know. The shit they should be more worried about, rather than harassing me for hours on end while the other half of my goddamn soul could be taking her last breath.
“It may not be one of you in this room, but for all I know it very well could be. What I do know is that there’s a dirty fed that hasn’t been caught. There’s no other way that they could have found Remi buried so deep in WitSec time and time again. There’s no way they could have found out about Liz and where she lived if someone on the inside hadn’t helped them find her. So while you’ve been busy trying to fuck me in the ass, you’re letting one of your own nail you t
o the ground, burying your head in the sand so that you don’t go looking for the truth. I suggest you find the leak before it costs more lives. And send a fruit basket, flowers, or some shit to my girl, because you’ve all fucking failed her.”
I walk out of the door without looking back, hoping that they hear my warning. For their sakes, I truly hope they do because I don’t have a single fucking problem calling every news outlet in North Carolina and bringing my accusations to the mainstream media. I refuse to let my woman be a victim to anyone ever again.
Least of all the pricks in that room who were sworn to protect.
“Take me to her.” I tell Shane, too pissed off to even ask him what the fuck his deal was back there.
“I assumed as much.”
We walk together in the silence through the dimly lit building with cubicles that smell of piss and stale coffee. My hands twitch at my sides, wanting to claw at my throat. I feel like I can’t breathe, not knowing what the fuck is happening with Remi. With Liz…
There was so much blood, so much chaos, and madness, that I have no idea the extent of either of their injuries. I know they both needed surgery, but I couldn’t get any more information. The minute the ambulance showed up and took Remi away, the feds and Deacon Hill PD showed up to take me and the guys in for questioning.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out to see Abel’s calling.
“What?” I bark, immediately regretting pointing my anger at him.
“Liz is out of surgery. No update on Remi.”
“Liz has no more family. It was just Henry.” I tell him, remembering everything Remi told me during our nights alone together.
“I don’t know how she’s going to handle the news once she wakes up.” Abel says, reminding me that none of us are done reliving this nightmare.
We probably won’t be for a long ass time.
“I’m on my way with Shane. Go home and be with your family. I’ll see you guys soon.”
I hang up and slide my phone in my pocket as I come up on the passenger side door of Shane’s Range Rover. My bike is still at Henry’s bar and I don’t know when I’ll have the time to go get it. All I know is that there’s a woman I love more than life itself fighting with all her might to come back to me.
We drive in silence for several minutes, my leg bouncing up and down in anticipation the whole way. Since when does anyone follow speed limit signs anymore? Is this asshole trying to get me to lose my mind?
“Are you fucking with me on purpose?”
Shane looks at me out of the corner of his eyes, a knowing smirk on his lips. “Doing what?”
“Are you keeping me from her or something?”
He chuckles at my line of questioning, refusing to answer.
“I’m serious, Shane. What the fuck is going on?”
“Be more specific.”
I swear to the gods, I’m gonna need a new attorney once I murder this one.
“You could have pulled the plug on that interview hours ago. Three fucking feds ago. You’re driving like a grandma, and no one in their right mind drives without music on. Tell me what’s going through your mind before I wrap my fingers around your throat and squeeze until your eyes pop out of your skull.”
I’m deranged right now. I have no problem admitting that. I don’t care if he fires me as a client and never answers another phone call again. He’s up to something and he’s keeping me from my girl, and that in itself is enough to earn a death sentence today.
I’ve already dropped bodies today, I will drop him without batting an eye. That’s how over this shit I am. That’s how badly I need to see her.
“Red tape, Brody. Holding out for the red tape.”
I glance out my window, watching the scenery around us make its way past the window at a painstakingly slow pace.
Red tape.
I’m so fucking sick and tired of hearing those two words put together. If I never hear them again in my lifetime, it would be too soon. Those words never provide any actual clarity, and they all apparently mean something different depending on who they’re coming from.
I’m seething when he mumbles something under his breath about me being a psycho and not him. Is it true? Probably. Do I care? Not even a little bit.
Fort Minor comes through the speakers as he turns on the radio, probably just to fuck with me some more. I see him smirk through the corner of my eyes and I squint at him in response.
Every move he’s making feels calculated and for the first time since I’ve known him, I briefly wonder if he can be trusted. Abel would punch me in the face if I ever voiced that thought out loud, but right now I feel like I can’t trust anyone.
No one but Remi.
Hearing what she went through, versus witnessing the depravity first hand, are two very different things. No matter how much of her story I did or didn’t know, nothing could have prepared me for what I walked into in that bar.
If the guys and I took even a single minute longer to get to her, Remi would have been raped and likely be dead. A thought that makes my stomach churn and the acidic taste of bile assault my mouth.
“She’s gonna be okay.” Shane says, breaking through the painful fog clouding my thoughts.
“She fucking better be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, hearing the venom dripping from my lips like the accusation it was intended to be.
“If I was holed up in that bullshit interrogation while she dies in that hospital alone, I will personally blame you for it. If you kept me from saying goodbye to her, no one will ever find your fucking body, Shane. I promise you that.”
He pulls into the hospital parking lot without another word, knowing damn good and well that I meant every single word. I don’t think he understands the amount of pain and anger that are coursing through me right now. I know he damn sure doesn’t understand the guilt.
That bullet was meant for me.
The bullet that could steal Remi’s life from her before she gets a chance to live it, free, without worry, was meant for me.
It should be me laid up in that hospital bed, fighting to get back to her. Her fight should be finished now.
When will enough be enough? When will she finally catch a break?
She jumped in front of that goddamn bullet before I even had a chance to process what she was doing. It all happened so fast and I was more focused on trying to watch the guys, waiting on them to get her the fuck out of there. To get her to safety.
There’s a myth about female wolves guarding the throats of their mates to ensure they don’t get attacked. I always thought it was ridiculous that the myth spread like wildfire after a bullshit post on social media. Everyone was talking about it, sharing it a million times over in what felt like the blink of an eye. I couldn’t scroll down my newsfeed for two minutes without seeing that photo.
I get it now though. The appeal, the ferocity in which women were sharing it, gaining strength from it, hoping to be as fierce as that alpha female wolf one day.
The minute I realized what happened, when Remi jumped in front of that bullet, risking her life to protect mine, that stupid meme made sense.
As a man, you’re only as strong as the woman you have by your side.
And Remi?
Fuck… She’s the strongest wolf of them all.
That’s what I’m counting on right now. That’s the little bit of hope that I’m holding on to as I walk through the automatic sliding glass doors of the hospital where my little wolf is.
Out of the two of us, she’s the strong one. She’s gonna make it out of this, she has to. I won’t accept anything else.
Because without Remi, there is no Brody.
I can’t bear to lose her again.
Remembering the last time I lost her, still burns hot in my mind. I feel as lost now as I did back then…
The bright Los Angeles sun breaks through the blinds, pulling me from the sleep
that I so desperately needed. Remi tossed and turned most of the night, fighting through the nightmares that never seem to go away. I had to find some good ASMR sounds of rain and thunderstorms to finally calm her enough to get to drift off.
My crazy Little Wolf has an addiction to the rain. I’ve never thought to ask her if there was a reason that the rain had such a profound effect on her. As I fight to open my eyes, I know that as soon as I taste her lips this morning, I’m going to ask her.
She’s everything in life that someone could want, more than anything anyone could ever deserve.
She’s the warmth in the air, the breeze on a hot day, and the comfort of home you always crave.
I turn over, refusing to surrender to the bright day looming, wanting to just hold my girl until one of us gives in and crawls out of bed. We’re supposed to be registering for the baby shower today, something she’s been gunning for since the moment we found out Oaklynn was a girl. Apparently, you can’t register for shit until you know what color scheme to buy for.
Or so she says.
I let her win on all of that. I don’t care what the colors are, or what the theme of the nursery is. All I want is Remi and Oaklynn, everything else is a bonus.
My hand reaches out, searching for my girl against the cluster of tangled sheets. My fingers come back cold, and I finally open my eyes, wondering why she’s not in bed. She didn’t get nearly enough sleep to be up and wandering the apartment this early, especially since she’s carrying such precious cargo.
Yes, I’m one of those guys. The guy that women always bitch about because we’re overbearing and protective. I don’t care. She can bitch at or about me all she wants, as long as she’s taking care of herself and our daughter.
She can complain about me not letting her lift or carry more than five pounds, but that’s why I’ve got these muscles, right? So that I can carry them for her. She can complain about me not letting her strain her body by constantly bending over to unload the groceries, but that’s why we have friends, right? So they can help me get stuff done faster so that she doesn’t have to. She can complain about me making her rest her swollen feet, but that’s why I have such big hands, right? So that I can massage her feet and make sure she can feel some relief.
Absolution Page 27