“Them,” I rasped, feeling my stomach drop. “I meant them.”
Hush never moved his eyes from me. And I knew why. Bastards, shitty assfeeder members of the Klan, took out his folks. And he’d seen them die. Watched them burn. “Them,” I said again, all the fight draining from my body. “They are an organized unit . . .” I trailed off, stopping myself from telling them how they were so well trained. But what was the fucking point? Most of these brothers still thought me a Nazi anyway. Saw me as the White Prince no matter how much I tried to escape it.
“I taught them,” I said and felt Tank tense beside me. He loved this club. But he’d also kept a shit-ton back from them because of me. Never even told them who I was until some of my old brotherhood had taken Ky’s old lady back to the cult we used to work with. I knew he hadn’t wanted me to tell all these Hangmen that it was me who had crafted them into the men they were now. The fighters. And that it was Beau who had taken control where I’d left off and made them unstoppable. “I trained them up, along with some other ex-forces members. I made them who they are now.”
“Tanner. Think it’s best if you step outta church right now.” I looked at Ky. He wasn’t speaking for Styx. He was speaking for himself. Styx was just staring at me.
“Come on, Tann. Let’s go.”
Tank led me out to the hallway. His hand stayed on my shoulder until we got to my room and I slumped to the bed. My head dropped, and I stared at the wooden floor. There were years of marks on the grains, showing just how long this club had been around. How many brothers had passed through these doors? How many men with fucked-up pasts? Needing the outlaw life, too messed up to be normal.
“I don’t know how to do it,” I finally said. My voice sounded like a boom of thunder in the quiet room. I lifted my head to see Tank standing still. He ran his hand over his shaved head. I caught the shank scar. Remembered waiting for him outside of the prison when he got out. When he walked away from the Klan. I’d been so fucking angry at him. Turning on Landry in prison for some kid he’d roomed with who Landry planned to kill. I was so fucking mad that he was walking away from what we’d been building. Couldn’t understand how he’d lost faith in us—the motherfucking Ku Klux Klan.
His home. Our home.
“I don’t know how to put that life behind me once and for all . . . it always finds a way to catch me. No matter how fucking hard I try.”
Tank sighed, his shoulders dropping. I knew how to read my best friend by now. He was feeling sorry for me. I didn’t want his damn pity. I just needed to know how to move the fuck on. To be free. “It’s all I know. I was born, then crafted into the perfect White Prince. Beaten if I dared speak to someone outside of the white race. You know me, Tank. I was all in. Was made to not even entertain any other way of thinking.”
“I know.”
“I don’t believe the rhetoric now. I don’t.” Mi amor, forget what you’ve always been told and just feel . . . Adelita’s husky voice cut through my brain, and the dead feeling that had resided in my chest immediately warmed the fuck up. Just thinking about her dark eyes, her long dark hair . . . her voice, her hands on my chest when I needed her most . . . “I fucking don’t believe it.”
“You’re a Hangman now. Patched in.”
I nodded. “It’s so fucking hard.” I ran my hand over my stubbled chin. I squeezed my eyes shut. “And I’m at fucking war with my brother . . . and with the family the bitch I want more than anything works for. The bitch I fucking love . . . but haven’t seen in two years.” I sighed, feeling my damn throat clog. “Don’t even know if she still wants me.” I laughed to disguise the massive lump in my throat. “Why would she? She’s perfect, smart, funny. She’s everything. I’m the Klan heir. Or so she probably still thinks. I’m the fucking dirt on her feet. She’s better off without me.”
Tank came forward and kissed my fucking head. “Tann. I know you don’t think any of the Klan shit is true anymore—”
“The other brothers think I do,” I interrupted. “Maybe not our chapter. But you have to see how the others look at me.”
“Fuck ’em.” He sat beside me. “When I came here, it took me a while to get in with them. They didn’t trust me either. They’ll see in time.”
I turned to face Tank. “I don’t think I could kill him . . . if it came to it.”
“Beau?”
I nodded. “He’s the one leading the Klan now. He’s the one who’s coming at us.” I sucked in a breath. “Fuck, Tank. He’s the one who needs to be killed to really fuck up the Klan.”
Tank put his hand on my head in support, but didn’t say shit. What could he say? He knew it was true. My brother had to die. Tank got to his feet. “I need to get back to church.” He eyed me weirdly. “You gonna be okay? You want to stay with me and Beauty for a few days? Get away from this place?”
“Nah. Gonna contact my Klan mole and find out what the fuck is going on.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Tank left the room, and I went to my computer station at the corner of the room. I logged in to my email and sent a message to Wade.
What the fuck happened today?
I only had to wait a few minutes before he replied.
Been away, inner-circle shit. Just got back. Didn’t know they were planning anything. New Dragon took the lead. Ex-Marine. Knows his shit. I’m here for a while now unless your old man calls me away. I’ll keep my ear to the ground and give you a heads-up on anything new going down. I fucked up. Won’t happen again.
I stared at the email and wondered for the millionth time if I was being played. But Wade’s intel had come through too often for me to doubt him.
Finally, I wrote: Make sure it doesn’t.
The Hangmen were setting Wade up nicely in exchange for the intel. Money that could get him the fuck out when the time came.
My hands hung, frozen over the keys, before I finally lowered them and wrote: Beau still in charge?
My fucking heart beat like a damn bass drum in my chest as I waited for the email to come back.
Fucker’s hell-bent on destroying y’all. Never thought I’d see the day that Beau spoke more than a few words or stopped hiding away on his own. Now he’s like Hitler on crack . . .
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I couldn’t imagine it either. Beau was a hard bastard. Brought up the same as me. Ruthless. Smart, but much more reserved. As the second brother, he could afford to be. He was quiet. A thinker. But so fucking quiet that you never knew what he was planning.
He’s lethal, Tann. Fucking lethal. Whatever had been sleeping inside him all this time has woken the fuck up.
I read that email over and over, until I pushed my chair back and went to move away. But as I did, the necklace I kept in my jeans dug into my leg. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the golden cross. The tarnished gold barely caught the light. It was old . . .
I want you to have it, mi amor. I want you to keep it. Think of me. Even when you doubt how much I love you, look at this and know that I am thinking of you too. Missing you too . . .
I’d managed to stay away from a particular program on my computer for too long. And like a man in a desert, gasping for water, I let my fingers move over the keypad and pull up the screen. My hand fisted into a ball and I closed my eyes. I knew I shouldn’t press the key for “play.” But nothing was keeping me from her for a minute longer.