Damnable Grace

by Tillie Cole

  “A fucking man!” Zane repeated loudly. I couldn’t help but laugh at his cute face. I loved this kid. He was my damn shadow, never leaving me alone. A sudden pang hit my stomach. I’d miss all my family when I went on tour, but none like this little fucker. Best goddamn thing in my life.

  Tina took Zane from my arms and tapped his nose. “No cussing, little man. Only grown men get to do that.”

  Zane looked like he wanted to argue, but Tina gave him her famous stare that told all us Deyes men to shut the fuck up or face her wrath.

  Zane huffed, but smirked at me when I threw him a covert wink. I could see the future now. Zane was just like me and Dev. A fucking Deyes man through and through. He’d no doubt follow us into the Corps. We’d all serve the flag, grow old, and that would be that.

  Devin’s hand landed on my shoulder. “Go get your hog, kid. We’ll go for a ride, then barbeque, then we’ll make you the best sniper to ever fight for the red, white and blue.”

  So that’s what we did.

  And it was the best fucking day of my life.

  Chapter One

  AK

  Hades Hangmen Compound

  Austin, Texas

  Present Day . . .

  I undid the buttons of my jacket and tried to suck in some fucking air through the thick heat. The gate slammed shut behind us. I reached up and wiped the sand and grit from my face. My entire body felt as though it were made of it.

  I could barely make my legs move, I was so fucking exhausted. I glanced down at my hand and saw the fucker shaking.

  “You good?” Bones asked.

  I looked at my spotter and closest friend. His face was white too, but I could tell he, like me, was manning the fuck up. A weird mix of adrenaline and guilt ripped through me when I thought back to the last two days. The sound of my bullets releasing from my barrel and slicing through the fuckers’ skulls. “Direct hit!” sounding from Bones beside me as I kept my eyes on my targets.

  “Three,” Bones said, his gangly arms reaching up to take off his helmet.

  I nodded in acknowledgment, but didn’t say shit. Wasn’t sure my mouth would work anyhow.

  Fucking three.

  Each one a direct hit.

  Then I saw him, coming from his tent. He rushed toward me. “X!” he called. I stopped dead, my feet crunching the sand.

  Bones’s hand came down on my shoulder. “See you later, yeah? Get some sleep.”

  “Yeah,” I replied. Bones walked away, and I looked up at my brother.

  “I heard on the radio.” Devin put his hand on my head before lowering it to my shoulder. My hair was gone now. Shaved. Jarhead through and through. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said, then laughed. I had no fucking idea why I was laughing. “I’m good.” I looked around us—the tents, the Marines milling about, the trucks being loaded and unloaded. It was fucking weird—out there versus in here. Out of the gate and inside, two completely different worlds.

  “Three.” I felt Devin’s hand fall away from me. “I got three of the fuckers.” I laughed again and felt a nervous smile pull on my face. But my heart was pounding. And my hand wouldn’t stop fucking shaking.

  Devin put his arm around my shoulder and led me from the entrance of the base. “Come on, X. You need a drink.” I let Devin lead me to his tent. But even as he sat me down and handed me a whiskey, I didn’t let go of my gun. I could see him watching me with worry, but I didn’t care. I’d just killed three people. My first ever confirmed kills.

  When my cup was empty, Devin filled it back up. “It gets easier.” He sat on the edge of his cot, right in front of me. I met his eyes. “From this moment on, it becomes second nature and don’t bother you as much. I promise.”

  I took a deep breath and let his words sink in, hoping he was right . . .

  The smell of bacon frying ripped me from my dream. My heart beat like crazy as I recalled that day. My hands shook as if I were back there in the dry heat. On that damn base . . . with Dev. Calm the fuck down, I told myself, trying to push the memory from my head.

  It took five minutes for it to fade.

  My eyelids felt like ton weights as I cracked them open and winced at the sun streaming through my window. I groaned and grabbed my head when the effects of last night’s tequila slammed into my cranium, yelling a huge fucking hello, remember me?

  “Shit,” I growled as I kicked my legs over the side of my bed and waited for the room to stop tilting to the side. Once the rocking chair in the corner had stopped spinning in circles, I pushed to my feet and stretched out my stiff neck.

  Something on my chest pulled tight. I looked down; I had fucking claw marks stretching from my neck to my groin. I’d slept in my jeans, clearly too fucking wasted to undress.

  What the fuck had happened? I slammed into the bathroom and closed my eyes as I pissed about a quart of tequila from my system.

  I moved to the sink and drenched my face with cold water, then swilled my mouth with mouthwash so it didn’t taste like something had fucking climbed inside and died. I pushed out of the door and followed the smell of bacon. Ash stood at the stove, already dressed in jeans and his Hangmen shirt. A fucking mini-Flame in my home. Tattoos, piercings, and those black-as-hell eyes.

  He looked up as I entered the kitchen. The little fucker had the audacity to smirk at me. I gave him the finger and slumped down at the table. Two glasses landed in front of me: a glass of orange juice and a shot of tequila.

  I groaned as I knocked back the Patrón, then downed the OJ until the glass was done. “Thanks, kid,” I said, then heard the little shit laughing.

  “How the hell are you not this hungover, you little fuck? Last I remember, you and Slash were doing shots of Jameson with Vike.”

  He shrugged. “I was. Just don’t really get hangovers.”

  “I hate you,” I swung a lazy punch to the side, but the fucker just moved away.

  I ran a hand over my eyes. The smell of food hit my nostrils, and I dropped my hand to see a full breakfast before me. My stomach growled in appreciation. Ash was still smirking at me, so I nodded and said, “Fine. You’re forgiven.”

  “For what? Being sixteen and able to hold my liquor better than you, old man?”

  I stuffed my mouth with greasy eggs and bacon and swallowed. “I’ll give you a pass. Only because right now it’d take too much outta me to knock you the fuck out.”

  I hoovered my food then sat back, running my hand over my stomach. I winced when my fingers passed over the fresh scratches on my abs. “You know what happened here?”

  Ash lowered his fork and wiggled his eyebrows. “Sure do.” He sat back and pretended to think. “She was about five foot nothing, bright-blue hair, and had the biggest tits you’d ever seen.”

  I racked my brain trying to remember the club slut, but I could only grab hold of flashes of me fucking her over my bed in the clubhouse . . . and of her ripping the shit out of my chest when I flipped her over and started again.

  That and her fake-ass whining. Club sluts. Whores should learn to just lie back and be good little cum deposits without all the fucking high-pitched mewling.

  “Fuck,” I groaned.

  Ash went quiet, then, looking up at me through his black hair, asked, “You remember what I talked to you about last night?”

  I tried to think. Eventually, I gave up and shook my head. “Sorry, kid. Gonna need you to refresh my memory.”

  Ash ducked his head, and suddenly the kid he’d been when we found him in that fucking hellhole in West Virginia returned. Lil’ Ash was doing real good of late. The little shit was funny. He was trustworthy. He fitted in with the club. He loved it with the Hangmen, did everything he could to stay, desperate to please, like he thought at any minute we’d tell him to fuck off.

  We wouldn’t. He was one of us now. Still, I was sure Ash never let himself believe it. Plus, the kid loved his brother. And Flame . . . well, Flame was fucking Flame. But I knew that brother better than anyone. He loved Ash,
just had fuck-all capability of showing or telling him so.

  “I . . . I told you I was interested in the Marines. Scout Sniper MOS, like you.”

  I didn’t expect his words. So I didn’t expect the fucking iron bar that slammed into my stomach when he spoke them. I froze, staring at Ash, his head down, hands wringing together on the tabletop in nerves.

  “You wanna join the Corps?” My throat was clogged, and it was a damn battle to get my sentence out. “You’re only sixteen.”

  “I . . . I know, but you’ve been teaching me to shoot for months now, and you said it yourself: I’m good.”

  “You are good, fucking amazing, in fact, but you’re still in school.” Ash nodded, but I could see he was upset at my reaction. I leaned forward. “You ain’t liking school?”

  “It’s all right.”

  I sighed, working to keep my shit together. This conversation was too familiar. My blood turned to ice in my veins, and I felt as if two massive hands were choking me the fuck out. “Ash,” I said quietly, watching his face fall. “Look at me.”

  He did what I said. In all the months he’d lived with me, the kid had never done a thing wrong. Always did as I said. In that respect he’d make a fucking awesome Marine—obedient, disciplined. But I wasn’t about to let that happen on my watch.

  Not a fucking a chance.

  “You okay?” Ash said.

  I shifted in my seat. “You’re smart, kid. Clever. But you’re still young. I know you don’t think so, or at least don’t feel it. Fuck, after what you’ve been through, I get it. You ain’t a normal teenager. Ain’t obsessed with chasing pussy and whatever the fuck other sixteen-year-olds do. But I ain’t signing off on you joining the Corps early. Ain’t happening.”

  Ash looked out the window. I continued, “And I’m sure as shit that Flame ain’t gonna let you join up either.” Ash’s head whipped around to me, and a surprised look formed on his face. “Our brother wouldn’t handle you leaving, so how about we give him no reason to freak out on us, yeah?”

  “Flame?” Ash said in confusion. “I . . .” His shoulders sagged. “I ain’t all that sure he’d mind.”

  And there it was. The reason Ash was looking to me for Marine career advice. I took Ash’s half-full cup of coffee and downed the hot liquid. “I get he don’t speak much to you. I get that he spends most of his time with Madds. But I’m telling you now, that psycho fucker loves you more than he’ll ever be able to say. Right?”

  Ash swallowed, and fuck if I didn’t see his eyes starting to water up. “You think?”

  I put my hand on his shoulder. “You’re one of the only people he allows near him. There’s Madds, of course, because she’s his bitch and got through to him when no other fucker could. There’s me and Vike. That history goes way back—we’ve seen and been through a lot of shit together.” I squeezed his shoulder harder. “Then there’s you.” Ash sucked in a sharp breath and exhaled slowly. “He’s a Hangman through and through, would do anything for his brothers, but he’s never let the rest of them in like he has us.” I gestured out the window, to our small cluster of cabins deep in the Hangmen compound’s land. “This, right here, is what keeps him from breaking apart. And believe it or not, you’re a huge part of that now too.”

  The vise around my throat eased when I saw a flicker of a smile hit the kid’s pierced lips. “Right now, kid, you’re the fourth member of our fucked-up little trio.” I smiled. “And I ain’t gonna cope with nuclear Flame when we tell him I signed off on your enlistment. I’m kind of a fan of my cock, and I’d prefer to keep it far away from your brother’s serrated knife and more in tight, wet pussies.”

  Ash laughed, and I smiled in relief, pushing my empty dish in his direction. “Now, get to it. These dishes ain’t gonna clean themselves.”

  Ash got up from the table, but just as he’d gathered the dishes in his hands, I stopped him by the elbow. “I thought you liked working on bikes anyway? You spend hours working with Flame on his Harley or in the shop with Tank. Tank says you’re the shit, could be the best damn mechanic we got. You’re in the Hangmen, brother; you’re set for life.”

  “I like bikes,” he said after a few silent moments. “I really like them, actually. They make sense to me.”

  “Then stick with them, yeah? And once you’re a fully patched-in member of the club, you’ll get a cut of the Hangmen profits too. You’ll be fucking golden, kid.”

  He clearly liked the idea of getting patched in, because he beamed with pride. “Now, get back to those dishes,” I said. “Until you’re patched in, you gotta do the grunt work.” I shrugged. “Just the way it is.”

  “Yes, sir,” the shitbag said, knowing I hated his young ass making me feel old.

  Fucking sir.

  I reached behind me to the cabinet, took out two Advil and knocked them back dry. Just as I went to stand to shower and shit, the front door slammed open, and a fucking ginger beast strode in.

  “Mornin’, cum-sluts! It’s a beautiful fuckin’ day!”

  I groaned loudly as Viking’s godawful voice sliced through my skull. I looked up at him smiling at me like an ugly giant. He sniffed the air. In a flash, he was storming to the stove and checking out the food that was left over.

  “I’m starting to think I should get me a fucking live-in rent boy too. He cooks, cleans . . . fuck!” He turned to Ash, who was trying his best to ignore our asshole of a brother. “You suck cock too?”

  I opened my mouth to tell him to shut the hell up, but Ash said, “Even if I did, I wouldn’t be sucking yours. Heard it’s no bigger than an inch.”

  Vike’s mouth dropped open, before he threw his head back and dove forward to put Ash in a tight headlock. “Fucking little shit!” he shouted, gracing us all with his thunderous, booming laugh.

  Ash pushed him off. “You can have the food. It’s what’s left over anyhow.”

  Vike scooped up the food, brought it to the table and sank down into a seat. He stuffed the food into his mouth like a damn wild animal. His eyes fell to my chest, and smiling through a mouthful of eggs, he winked at my scratches.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  Ash brought him a coffee, and Vike drained it in one go, tapping the mug on the table for more. “You get the message from Styx?” Vike said.

  “No. Just got up.” I looked around for my cell, but fuck knew where it was.

  “Gotta be at church in twenty. Tanner finally got us a lead.”

  My pulse started slamming in my neck as my heart tried to cope with the sudden rush of adrenaline.

  “Thought you’d like that.”

  “He’s found her?” Phebe. A picture of the redhead rushed to my mind. Not that I hadn’t been thinking about the bitch non-stop since we’d found out she was missing.

  “No idea.” Vike leaned forward, running his hand down his beard. “But I’m getting real fucking bored lately of standard runs and all the talk of Prez’s damn wedding. Who gives a shit about that? I want Klan scum to hunt.”

  My fingers twitched on the tabletop at the thought of tracking Phebe down, of taking out the fucker who had her. Too many nights I’d stayed awake, imagining cutting that fucker apart. Slitting his stomach open and watching as his blood and guts spilled at my feet. And I’d smile. I’d smile through it all with Phebe by my side, watching the asshole die a slow and painful death.

  It had taken Tanner longer than he’d thought to get any kind of shit on this Meister dick. And I was restless. I agreed with Vike. Things had been too quiet. I may have been out of the Marines, but I still needed the fucking rush of the fight, of the kill, in my life.

  With the Hangmen that shit came in spades.

  And it looked like it was about to kick off again.

  Fuckin’ A.

  “I’ll get dressed.”

  I got up and threw on my shirt, cut and boots. We were out of my cabin in minutes, Ash behind us. If it was church, the prospect would be pouring drinks and whatever the fuck else Styx told him to do. I leaned against m
y cabin and lit up a smoke as Vike hammered on Flame’s door. “Get the fuck out, Flame! Gotta go!”

  Through the window of Flame’s cabin, I saw Flame head to the door, Maddie rushing behind him. He turned back to her, and the closest thing Flame had to a smile spread across his face, then he leaned down and kissed his bitch.

  My chest tightened. My smoke burned away, untouched, in my hand. I couldn’t believe Flame had something like that.

  “AK!” Vike’s voice cut through my thoughts. “You ready?”

  I nodded, seeing Flame walk outta his door.

  Flame flicked his chin at me, then his eyes tracked around the yard. I knew who he was looking for—he did this every day. Only I noticed. I was the only one trained to not miss a thing. When he saw Lil’ Ash, Flame’s shoulders relaxed.

  Ash waved his hand. “Hey, Flame.”

  “You good?” Flame asked curtly, running his gaze over every inch of his brother.

  “Yeah,” Ash said. He was smiling a little. I knew he had recognized Flame’s attempt at affection. I winked at Ash to confirm that what he thought was true.

  Maddie’s small frame appeared in the doorway. “Viking, AK.” Flame instinctively moved toward her, like they were fucking magnets or some shit.

  “Madds,” I said.

  Vike smiled. “Mornin’, sugar tits.”

  Flame’s lip curled at our brash brother, but it was Vike. Weren’t no one stopping that car crash.

  “Hello, Asher,” Maddie said to Ash. She nudged Flame’s arm, her eyes urging him to do something.

  Flame’s jaw clenched, then, without looking at Ash, he said, “You’re comin’ to dinner tonight.”

  Maddie shook her head in exasperation. She wasn’t pissed at the possessiveness. She knew he wasn’t being a dick, he was just . . . fuck, he was just being Flame.

  “Ash, what Flame was trying to ask was would you like to have dinner with us tonight? I will cook something special.”

  Ash looked to me, and I flicked my chin, urging him to accept. “Yeah. Thanks. I’d love to,” Ash replied, and Maddie smiled at him so big.