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“You may not have a choice.” He slows down and stops in front of Sailor’s brownstone. “Lucas sliced that man up with his own knife that he pulled on him,” Joey tells me, continuing our previous conversation. “Right in front of his men. Took finger by finger, each time he woke up, then would do it again until he passed out. It took him hours and hours. By the end, the guy died from blood loss. Then he had one of his men get a machete and chop the body up. When that was done, he proceeded to kill every one of them point-blank with a bullet to the head. Lucas has always had a dark soul.”
The front door slowly opens, and I watch, waiting to see who’s behind the door.
“We had a cat once. A stray. Took it to the vet, and he said it was in so much pain that it was best to put it down.” He glances back at me. “Lucas didn’t hesitate, and he liked that cat. Do you think he likes you?”
I don’t get a chance to answer before Sailor is opening my door. When she sees me, her eyes go wide, and she pulls me out by my hand, then up the stairs and into the house.
Once inside the door, I quickly glance back at Joey, who gives me a wave before he drives off.
“Where is he going?” I ask.
“Back to Keir,” she replies, somehow knowing the answer. As soon as the front door is shut behind me, she has a first-aid kit and is assessing all my wounds. She makes me sit on her pristine sofa in my dirty, stinky clothes and starts carefully putting antiseptic on them all.
“I’m sorry to bring this to you,” I tell her.
She stops wiping my brows and looks down at me. “This is not your fault. Never apologize for their world. You got dragged into it.” She eyes me up and down. “Literally.”
My eyes move to my legs covered in blood, then up to my hands that look like I’ve been trying to claw my way out of a burial plot.
“Do you think you need a hand showering?” she asks.
My attention is drawn to Piper, who comes in holding two towels. “I’ll help. You are way too pregnant.”
“I can do it myself,” I respond to them both.
“And have you risk falling and cracking your skull? Nope. Piper will go in with you, and I’ll cook you some soup.” Sailor walks off, and Piper offers me her hand.
“Let’s get you out of those smelly clothes.”
I offer her a shallow smile as I stand, accepting her hand and following her to the shower stall. She immediately turns on the faucet and steps back over to me. Her hand comes up to my shirt, and she cuts it away from me. “This will be burned.”
I couldn’t agree more.
I don’t have a problem standing in front of her naked—we all know I’m not insecure about my body. But with all the marks that currently mar my skin, I feel like I should cover all the blemishes to stop her from feeling sorry for me.
“I hope you shot him in the fucking eye for what he did.” I don’t say anything back as I slip into the shower. The warm water stings at first, but then it feels amazing. “I heard your brother already shot Malik before he found you.” Through the shower door, I can see her sitting on the closed toilet with a nail file scrubbing across her nails.
Brody, oh my god, Brody.
He shot him?
I taught him years ago how to use a gun but never, ever wanted him to have to use it. Especially not for me. When I say nothing, she looks up at me. “Did you not know that?”
My mouth opens, but no words come out.
Her phone rings, and she looks away to answer it.
“Your brother and friend are on their way,” she says, finally hanging up the phone call. “Sailor said it’s best they stay here in the spare room since you will be here.” I finish washing myself, then get out, drying my face carefully. Not dragging the towel over it is harder than I thought. “Do you want me to kick him down the stairs when he arrives?”
“Lucas is coming?” I ask.
“That was Lucas.” She holds up her phone. “I’m not opposed to doing it, just so you know.” She shrugs. “I do have these beautiful heels on and all, so it will be relatively easy.” She glances down at her heels and smiles.
I take the offered clothes from Piper, which will thankfully be loose on my skin, and dress before heading out the door. “Maybe you should go upstairs. This is the one place he won’t start on you.” Her voice is smaller now, almost a murmur.
“I’m not afraid of him.”
“That’s stupid,” she states, shaking her head.
