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“Lars. Lars Murdoch."
His eyes widen with recognition as his face pales, but I doubt it's from a personal relationship type of recognition. My dad died when Xander was a teenager and my dad's name always gets this reaction.
"Lars?"
I nod, frowning. "The one and only Lars Murdoch, the NASCAR driver from San Jose. Yeah, my dad." A big yawn escapes me as my eyes droop with exhaustion.
"Go to sleep, darling. We'll talk when you wake up." His words barely register as I drift off into a dreamless slumber, my only companion the sound of my mother singing my lullaby.
The Cinderella theme song,So This is Love.
CHAPTER21
XANDER
Laura snores softly before I even stand up from the edge of the bed I'm perched on. She never snores. This is the first time I've heard the sound from her and it does something powerful to the contracting muscle in my chest.
She's so fucking exhausted, and I can't help feeling its my fault. She may choose to blame my father for all this, but the truth is he conned her into this existence because of me. He even told her so. He saw my initial reaction to her and he's using her like a bomb, ready to detonate and destroy everything.
I'd do anything—kill anyone—to keep her safe. If he manages to hurt her worse than he already has, I will burn this whole club down to ash, blowing in the wind like dust until nothing else stands.
I step out of the bedroom and close the door so Laura won't be disturbed. She needs to catch up on her sleep.
"Is she resting?" Gillian asks as the door latches, a lit joint dangling between her fingers.
I nod before finishing my trip to the sofa, plopping down on it like a pile of bricks.
I can't wait for all of this shit to be over. As soon as it is, I'm taking my girl away from here. Just the two of us for days, maybe even a few weeks.
"Peaceful," I mutter as she hands the joint over to me.
"Looks like you need this as much as I do."
I lift the joint to my lips and take a long drag, sucking the smoke deep into my lungs until I can't drag anything else from the joint. Handing it back over to her, I lean my head back and hold it in until black spots distort my vision.
"Was that true?" I ask, my voice rough. "What you said to her about her ex."
I lift my head and watch as her face falls. "One hundred percent. Life sucks and people are dicks."
I can't argue with that. Every last word is full of truth and heartache. "You willingly put yourself into the position of it happening to you again," I assess even though I know it's a dick move. She holds no blame for what Laura's ex and his douchebag friends did to her, but it seems so strange that she'd do what she did for Laura after what she's been through. Laura swore they weren't close.
"Sure did. I'd gladly walk through the fiery pits of hell and be gang raped by the devil and his demons if it meant my sister never has to go through what I have. You don't have a twin so you don't understand the bond that comes with that. She hurts and I hurt. We're two halves of the same person. I carry all the damage and trauma while she gets to be Suzy Homemaker with whoever the hell she wants. I'm the girl who gets raped and fucks psychopaths, not her. I can handle being damaged. Laura can't."
She's so wrong. Everyone is damaged, including Laura. I've seen it. It's not the same as Gillian's trauma, but it's there and it rears its ugly head sporadically.
"Most of all, she doesn't deserve it," she adds. "After our father died, we expected her to break, but she didn't. She held us all together. When our brother had his accident, it was Laura who took care of him every day. When I got hung over and could barely hold my own, it was Laura who held my hair while I puked and made me a tall glass of our dad's hangover cure. When our mother got cancer, it was Laura who made sure she took her meds and went to all her appointments. None of us would be as well off as we are without her. My mother wouldn't be alive and neither would I." The love on Gillian's face is unmistakable.
She would do anything for her sister. She thinks Laura walks on water.
I can't remember a time where anyone ever took care of me like how Gillian describes. The only thing close is everything Laura does for me every single day. I never have to ask her to do anything. She just does it.
"What is your plan here?" Gillian groans before taking another drag off the joint.
"My plan?" What the fuck is she talking about?
"To keep my sister safe. I kept Browning preoccupied once. He's going to come back. You know it. I know it. Plus, there's not just him. My sister is a dime piece. She always has been. I've spent the better part of a decade scaring off frat boy wannabes who wanted to get her in bed. I know it's no different in your club. You can't tell me there hasn't been a single instance where you had to peel some bastard's hands off her." She raises her eyebrow in question and I grimace.
I remember. I remember how scared she was when those assholes put their hands on her. I remember how she trembled when I put my arms around her and led her out of the clubhouse. I remember the sheer terror in her eyes when I pulled her away from them. Just remembering it all has me nearly blind with rage.
