“We’re your prepared assholes,” he says, as if he can feel my surprise. “The dealership gave us a few extra pairs of keys for emergencies.”
My lips twitch but I can’t find a smile right now. The sky is gray with impending rain, and it’s tinging the world in those same shades. Everything feels sad and heavy.
“In we go,” Storm murmurs, opening the back door for Wilder to climb in with me tight against his body.
“I need…to know what happened,” I gasp, my eyes closing as the door shuts quietly behind us. It feels as if the rest of the world is taking a breath, and there’s no sound left inside it.
My skin pebbles with goosebumps as I wait to see if Wilder will tell me, and he inhales sharply as Storm gets into the front seat.
“We were betrayed,” Wilder says. “Ace went inside the garage to scope things out ahead of us, and called the man who runs the shop out on his shit.”
“Was he armed?” Storm asks. The vehicle quietly hums as he turns it on, and then we’re in motion with barely a moment in between. Wilder isn’t the only one in a hurry.
“Yes,” Wilder replies, and I open my eyes. His hands move over my arms, making me realize I’m shivering. “Ace went in guns blazing before we got there, and they shot him down. I have to call his uncle to tell him he’s dead.”
“Who is his uncle?” I ask, as if I’ll know anything about Ace’s life. It’s an immediate response, and neither scoff at my question.
“Henry,” Storm tells me. “He runs the garage your car was at.”
“He doesn’t like bikers,” I remember. “He asked if I was going to bring trouble. I guess I did.”
“No,” Wilder says sadly. “What other people choose to do, isn’t your karma, nor should it stain your soul, baby. You didn’t kill Ace. These are hands that heal.”
His hands move down my arms until they’re cupping my hands, and his fingers swipe down the length of them with measured force.
“Henry may be salty about it, but at the end of the day, Ace chose this life, Kitty,” Storm says.
“They threw his body at our feet,” Wilder says, his voice fucked as he recalls what happened. “Things went south quickly, but I don’t think their president knows Chester screwed us over. He sold the parts to pull the wool over his president’s eyes, and called us to force our hand to blackmail us in exchange for our lives.”
“Lore wouldn’t have accepted that well,” Storm snorts. “I’m also the money man.”
I can hear Storm is hearing this story for the first time as well, and it helps not being the only one in the dark.
“Fucker couldn’t tell us apart,” Wilder says with a heavy sigh. “Lore was hit while fighting, and didn’t even know where the shot came from. There are a lot of loose ends to work through, and I have to call Lore’s brother.”
“Brother,” I breathe.
“Yeah, baby. His younger brother,” Wilder says. “You’re about to get a crash course in our fucked up family tree. We’re not letting you go. We can’t. I’m not even going to say we’re sorry, because we aren’t. I’m fucking struggling with this, and I won’t pretend to be a good man.”
“I think good men are a dime a dozen,” Storm says seriously, taking a right turn. “Give me the ones who are broken, fucked up, and still choose brotherhood and their girl when shit hits the fan. I’ll take loyalty over someone that’s ‘good’ any day.”
I let that sit as I mull over his words. I’ve known a lot of good men as well as men who do shitty things because it’s the right thing to do. That seems as if it shouldn’t make sense, but it’s the same as having the villain burn the world down for you instead of sacrificing your life for the greater good.
While I understand this, I’m still too much of a mess to make any decisions. It’s probably for the best that I can't reject my scent matches. I just lost one of them, I don’t think my soul can handle losing anyone else.
“I’m here,” Wilder whispers, holding me tightly as I gasp out a sob. “Cry, scream, I don’t fucking care, baby. Don’t hide from us.”
In a strange way, it makes sense that he wanted me to keep it together at the hospital. I broke half a dozen rules by breaking the news of Lore’s death to someone I’m in a relationship with. But there was no one at the front desk when Wilder picked me up and walked out of the hospital.
No witnesses means I still have a job when I’m ready to come back. I have money in the bank, a place to sleep, and a car. All of the things I felt I needed to survive are ticked off the list. I’m willing to hit pause on life for one fucking second so I can process what’s happening.
Pretending this doesn’t hurt, despite the short time I knew Lore, would be a lie and disrespectful to him.
Fuck, why does this make so much sense, despite how twisted it is?
“Breathe, Marie,” Wilder reminds me, his body shuddering against me as a ragged half breath, half cry explodes from my body. “That’s a good girl. Again. It’s okay if it hurts.”
Tears fall faster than I can blink them away, and I vaguely realize my hand is against Wilder’s bare chest.
