Ryan?
What the fuck?
My eyes widened as I stared at Amaryllis and Lucie. Reaching up, I rubbed at my eyes and tried to calculate how much I’d had to fucking drink today.
Too much.
Fuck. I’d only had six or so beers.
Exactly. I didn’t keep them safe all this time for you to fuck this up, Axe. I need you to love her, to protect her. Don’t let your guard down, man.
I had to be losing my fucking mind.
More like pickling it. Shit’s coming, brother. Shit I can’t stop. Keep her safe. For me. But more importantly, for all you fuckwits. You’re nothing without her.
My mouth dropped open at the reprimand, but before I could pinch myself, Lucie was turning around and creeping off the bed. I glanced at Amaryllis and saw she was asleep. Lucie reached over and turned off the nightstand lamp, cutting off the light to the dark room.
Already, the loud, throbbing music from below was evident, and I winced, made aware yet again that this wasn’t the right place to raise Amaryllis.
Ever since Lucie had talked about leaving and finding somewhere nearby, the idea had been running through my head but we’d all been too busy to actually act on the notion.
But with it running at the back of my mind, I’d never noticed just how much sex went down on the premises. I mean, I noticed, but it hadn’t registered. It wasn’t until I had a set of little eyes to protect that I actually gave a fuck.
“Come on, she’s fast asleep,” Lucie whispered, tugging at my hand.
“You gonna sleep with me tonight?” I asked softly, as we stepped out and closed the door behind us.
She cut me a look and shook her head. “She still needs me.”
I understood that, even if I did feel petty for being jealous of my daughter.
My lips curved in amusement at the thought, but when Ryan’s favorite song came on, a total wild card of a song that I knew was only being played for his benefit, my heart stuttered.
“Wolfe,” Lucie whispered.
That made sense. He was behind “Zombie” by The Cranberries being played.
I squeezed her hand when I felt her fingers trembling in my hold.
“God, Axe, I miss him so much.”
“I do too,” I rasped, hauling her into my side so I could bury my face in her hair. “All I’ve done for so long is miss the pair of you. I can’t believe he’s fucking gone.”
“Me either.” She curled into me, her hands coming up to my chest and her nails digging into my cut. “I begged him to fight it, begged him to, but he couldn’t. It just… He was so strong. Then, one minute, he wasn’t. He got so thin, his muscles seemed to disappear. It was like something from a horror movie how it ravaged his body.” She trembled in my arms. “A-After, without him, I thought I was going to die. I’ve always thought I was strong. That I could do anything I set my mind to, but I realized then that I could only do that when you had my back. Without him, I was alone, so fucking alone, Axe—”
Before she could say another word, I whispered, “You’ll never be alone again.”
Her tears wet my cut, and I closed my eyes as I ran a hand over her head, trying to impart comfort where there was none to give.
“You’ve got closure now, baby girl,” I told her softly. “You’ve been waiting on this service for a long time.”
She tensed then relaxed. “I guess.”
“Closure is important. You know that. How many brothers have we lost? You can’t grieve when shit’s still up in the air.”
Lucie was quiet for a few seconds, then, she whispered, “I-I hope he’s at rest now that he’s here. He missed this place just as much as I did. This was home for both of us.”
“Of course it was. He’ll find his peace.” At least, I hoped he would. The fact the fucker had still managed to fucking talk to me told me otherwise, but I wasn’t about to tell Lucie that. She’d think I’d lost my fucking mind.
I tugged at her, prompting her to move with me as we slow-danced to a song that you couldn’t slow-dance to, but one that was for her and me.
“Zombie” was a song about death and mindless violence, about loss and fear and the human condition. Ryan hadn’t just loved the lyrics or the music, he’d loved the meaning. He was a deep fucker, and as I danced with our woman, that resonated as we moved to a song that, deep in his cups, had been enough to make tears prick the bastard’s eyes.
Rubbing my chin against her silky hair, I whispered, “Lucie?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
She released a sigh. “I do. I love you, too.”
I nodded, glad she knew that. This week was going to be a fucker, and I wanted her to know, down to her bones, that we had her back.
Tomorrow, she’d be heading with Dagger to the doctor’s surgery for her cast to be removed. Ramon couldn’t cut off her fucking finger before then. It wasn’t like she could have the cast removed with her finger missing, not without raising questions, and considering the appointment had already been set for this week, we’d seen no issue in following through with it.
Had it been me, Wolfe, Flame, or Dagger, there was no doubt that we’d have taken a saw to the cast ourselves. But Lucie needed the best care, and while that wasn’t exactly what Rutherford had to offer, it was better than us attacking her cast ourselves.
After that, we had to stage her scene of ‘death’ and hope that Carlos Rodriguez was distracted enough with his turf war that he was satisfied with the pictures Ramon sent him.
Then, we had to hide Lucie away. Flame had called in a favor with one of the ranchers who’d gone to school with us. She was going to stay in a cabin on his land for a little while. Back in the day, it had been used during the winter as a base so ranch hands could check out the terrain at the farthest points of the property.
Nobody would think to look for her there. She’d stay there with Amaryllis until we found the rat in our midst, and then we’d bring her home. She’d have to lay low for-fucking-ever. There was no avoiding that. Or until Carlos Rodriguez was taken down.
Even as I thought about it, I wondered if Dagger and Flame were intending to go down that route. And if they weren’t, maybe I should make the suggestion, because the prospect of Lucie having to hide out for the rest of her life wasn’t acceptable.
Still, targeting Carlos would bring the entirety of the cartel down on us. Easier to ship a ton of ghost guns to the Colombians who he was engaging in turf war with. Arm them up, ramp them up, and get them to take the motherfucking Mexicans out.
“You tensed.”
I blinked. “Just thinking.”
“About this week?” she asked, and her miserable tone told me that she was sad about Ryan, but also about what was going to go down over the next few days.
“It’s fucked up,” I admitted, releasing the words on an exhalation, “but we’ll get through it.”
She swallowed. “I’d run again, but—”
“No!” I growled. “No running.” My hands slipped up her arms to cup the balls of her shoulders. “Promise me, Lucie. You run now, you’ll run forever. Hiding out is better than running.”
“Isn’t it the same thing?” she demanded, staring up at me with her heart in her eyes. I felt her fear, sensed it, and wished I could take it away.