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What I saw took my breath away.
It was me, sprawled naked on the bed. It must have been the morning after our first night together, I mused. The sheets covered my groin, but the rest of my body was exposed. She’d drawn every detail, lovingly capturing each muscle and sinew, each shadow, each tattoo, each scar. Her talent was formidable. It was me, through and through. But it was the look on my face that took my breath away. I’d never seen myself that way before.
I’d only recently felt that way, and only because of her.
In the drawing, I was at peace.
No furrowed brow. No haunted eyes. A soft smile played around my lips, and I realized I must have been sleeping that way. I could feel an echo of it now, that fulfillment I’d had falling asleep with my sweet, beautiful girl in my arms. That feeling of coming home.
The thought brought me up short. I was on the brink of throwing that away. Of soiling myself beyond recognition.
Would Parker want to be with someone who had done what I was contemplating doing? What I was looking forward to? Torture and murder, even if justified, were still mortal sins. I stared at the picture in my hands. The picture that showed clearly who she saw me as. The man I suddenly wanted to be.
Strong. Loving. Happy.
Because she had made me happy.
I closed my eyes and carefully closed the sketchbook, sliding it back where I had found it. I reached up and felt the wrapped cloth that protected the knives. The bundle was where I had left it, duct taped to the back of the dresser.
To think that something so beautiful rested just inches from something so horrible. She gave life. I could only bring death.
But it didn’t have to be that way. I could be more. I could feel it, just out of reach. I could be the person she’d drawn in her secret notebook. I could be that man. The man who was there for her. Who helped her pick up the pieces after all the trauma she’d experienced. The man who helped her learn to smile again.
I wanted to be that man for her.
I wanted it more than anything.
The beast in me wanted to kill. My dark side. He wanted to maim. To destroy Smith for nearly destroying me. He had destroyed me, or the man I was when Billy was killed. But I’d rebuilt myself, finally becoming whole again because of her.
I couldn’t throw that away, I decided. In my gut, I knew I could never go through with it. Not now. She’d changed me for the better. I couldn’t go back to the lonely, desolate man I’d been before.
I tucked the knives into my waistband and put on my jacket, zipping it up all the way. My face was grim as I climbed on and started the engine. I peeled off, still feeling that urgency to end this, once and for all.
But my mind was racing with all the possibilities. I could be a good person and take care of this. It just wasn’t going to be the way I’d planned it all these years.
I sped through the night toward the empty warehouse that held my brother’s killer.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Preacher
“He likes to hurt women?” I asked, staring at the piece of shit tied to a chair. He wore a Hells Raisers patch. Not my club, but I knew plenty of them. Not this fucker though. He looked calm. Way too calm, given the circumstances. The circumstances being that he was surrounded by violent degenerates with oodles of weapons and a really good fucking reason to end him.
He gave me the creeps from the get-go.
“Yeah. He’s gone after club girls and old ladies. Even killed one of the guys’ mother.”
“Sonofabitch,” I muttered. “Why the fuck do I need to do last rites for this piece of human offal?”
Cain stepped forward.
“Not last rites. We want him dead. But we don’t want to piss off our women.”
I tugged on my beard. I’d seen their women. Married most of them too. Strong and lovely, every single one of them. They had good reason not to upset those beauties.
“We thought you could reason with Shane when he comes.”
“He wants blood, eh?”
Mason and Connor exchanged a look.
“We think he wants more than that. The guy carved up his woman and his little brother.”
“So he wants revenge. Tit for tat.”
“It’s impossible. He couldn’t do enough damage to even it out. This guy hurt his woman and killed his brother. Took his eyes.”
“Fuck,” I breathed. I kicked Smith in the nuts and he moaned into his gag. “Maybe we should let him go to town.”
Conn shook his head.
“I’ll have to leave if he does that. But this piece of shit killed my partner too. I want to bring him in.” He shook his head. “If this goes sideways, it could destroy a lot of lives. Our lives.”
