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“Fine, less mess.” I tap my chin, thinking, drawing out the anticipation for the little bitch before me. “I like the idea of a sword fight, but I don’t think my opponent is up to scratch.”
Ryker chuckles beside me, surprisingly more relaxed than I expected him to be. I’m aiming for way too dramatic in my mind, and she really doesn’t deserve that level of energy from me. But I also want it to be epic.
“Has anyone got a weapon to hand? I don’t feel like getting my hands dirty.” I look at the four men surrounding me to find two guns, a blade, and a pair of brass knuckles being offered out to me. “Wow, a selection, you really do love me,” I preen, taking a moment to decide before settling on the blade in Emmett’s hand.
Lunging at Molly, I wrap my hand around her hair tight, relishing the sound of her hissing before slicing the sharp edge through her locks, and they tumble to the floor. “No,” she cries, like she’s not going to die any minute now anyway.
“That’s for the comments you made about Emily,” I grunt, turning back to my men to pull the brass knuckles from Axel’s hold. Slipping my fingers inside the rings, I waste no time launching my fist at her face again, her scream ripping from her stomach as blood splatters everywhere.
The metal clangs on the floor as I release them from my hold. “That was for the bullshit about Axel,” I bite, seething, then I grab both of the guns from Ryker and Gray. “And this is for not telling the epic tale of how I slaughtered Kincaid’s men properly. I wielded two guns in nothing but a tee and slaughtered his men one by one. Rest in pieces, bitch.”
Bang.
Bang.
TWENTY-ONE
Scarlett
Axel arrangesthe cleanup of the dead Ruthless Bitch, while Gray takes my hand in his and leads me toward the bathroom. Emmett turns the shower on, and Ryker sticks his head in with a fresh fluffy towel as Gray undresses me.
There’s a quiet ambience around us, but instead of feeling further away from them, it feels like a warm blanket holding us all close. The hot water from the shower hits my skin, and I tilt my face up to let it wash away the blood that hit me moments earlier. Blindly reaching for the body wash, I come up empty-handed, only to feel calloused fingers run over my bare skin from behind.
Glancing over my shoulder, I expect to see Gray, but it’s Emmett. He’s stripped down to his boxers as he lathers the body wash over my skin. The move is hypnotic as he cleans me from head to toe. When he’s done with my body, he pulls my hair from the mess on my head and proceeds to wash my locks. I’m pliant to his silent commands, tilting my head, lifting my arm, and everything else he needs from me until he cuts the water off and holds out a towel for me.
A soft smile spreads across my face. “Thank you,” I say, breaking the silence. Tightening the towel around my body, Gray escorts me to his room with his hand at the base of my spine. “I’m not made of glass, you know,” I grumble, even though I’m loving the treatment.
“You’re made of the strongest stuff known to man, Scar, there’s no doubt about that. But that doesn’t mean we can’t treat you like you’re precious, because you are.”
Damn these men! Always making me putty. Ryker is poised at the foot of Gray’s bed with a small pile of clothes in his hands. His face lights up when his gaze settles on mine, reminding me there’s simply a man behind the role of thepresidentI saw moments ago.
“Do you want a minute to get dressed alone?” he asks. The door clicks shut behind me as Emmett moves into the room too.
“I’m good,” I rasp, feeling all three of them watch me as I dry myself off and slip into a pair of boxers, one of their t-shirts, and a ridiculously big pair of shorts.
“Do you want to rest, get the fuck out of here, or relax?” Gray asks, and I frown.
“You know I’ve killed people before, right? I’ve killed peopleherebefore. Like, lots of them. I don’t need this soft treatment every time I take someone’s life,” I state, my lips rubbing together nervously. This really does feel weird as hell.
“You deserve it though,” Emmett replies, sweeping a hand through his hair. “You’ve clearly shown you’re willing to get blood on your hands for us, the club, and everybody else you care about. That’s likely because it’s all you’ve ever known, but the aftermath of that doesn’t have to be the same as it always was.”
His words tighten my chest as I attempt to take a steady breath.
“Is that okay with you?” Ryker asks, cocking a brow at me, and I nod. “Good… Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“It’s not an easy one.”
“They never are,” I murmur, intrigued and slightly nervous with where he’s going with this.
“Why did you stay?” My eyebrows pinch, and he rushes to explain, “Why did you stay with the Reapers after your father’s death? Why didn’t you just burn it all to the ground and run?”
He wasn’t joking, this is deep as fuck.
Flicking my damp hair over my shoulder, my skin heats under their watchful gazes. I know the truth, feel it in my bones, but it’s weak as hell and I don’t really want to admit it out loud. I’ve never spoken it out loud, but one look at these men, and I know they won’t judge me for it. I’ve laid the rest of myself bare to Axel, telling him parts of my past that hurt my soul like fuck. They deserve this from me.
“Because it was all I knew. It may not have been safe or somewhere to call home, but the fear of the unknown outside of those walls hung heavily on my shoulders. I had my bags packed and ready to go the second I turned eighteen, determined to leave, but even when the opportunity finally arose and you guys appeared, I still chose to come with you instead of fending for myself.”
