“Do you know why he let her go? Why he didn’t keep a hold on her?”
You think you’re the only one I talked to? Been haunting that man since I died.
No fucking way.
“That isn’t possible.”
Isn’t it?
Overhead, the bulb in the ceiling light exploded. Glass shards rained down over me, tinkling as they cascaded on the ground. It was followed by the explosion of every single lightbulb in the office.
I heard pounding footsteps, the heavy thudding of boots, before fists were slammed into the door. I looked up, saw Ink, watched him take in the room.
“What the fuck?”
I shook my head, because, yeah. What the fuck?
“Must have been a surge,” I mumbled, staring at the chaos.
A laugh sounded in my head.
I’ll be watching. Don’t fuck up.
And with that, he was gone, and I was left wondering if I had a tumor of my own to worry about or if, somehow, from beyond the fucking grave, Ryan’s love for Lucie had somehow managed to resolve the impossible.
Somehow, when I thought of it that way, it made complete sense.
12
Lucie
Seven years later
I wanted to get into bed with her, but she was asleep and it had taken three hours of soothing to get her to close her eyes.
Not that I could blame her.
I wasn’t sure if we could use this house again. Wasn’t sure if I’d ever feel safe in it.
From this very bedroom, that bastard had managed to creep into my baby girl’s room and steal her out from under us.
I didn’t care that he was dead now. Didn’t care that he’d made some pigs very happy tonight.
The damage was done.
The house was no longer a sanctuary. A place to get away from the clubhouse. Maybe if we’d been there, maybe among the others, we’d have been safe. The fucker would never have been able to get to her, and I wouldn’t feel like I could never take my eyes off her—
I’m sorry, baby.
My eyes flared wide.
“Ryan?”
Yeah. I’m so sorry. I let you both down.
I felt like my heart was imploding. I hadn’t heard from him in so long, and though the circumstances were dire, I was so happy to connect with him, to feel his mental touch once more.
Closing my eyes, I was unable to think of anything else to say other than, “I love you.”
And I love you. So much. Don’t blame my brothers, baby. It’s not their fault.
My mouth pursed—not in anger, but with the need to withhold more tears. I reached up and rubbed at my sore eyes. “I don’t blame them.”
They think you do. They blame themselves.
“Not their fault.”
And it wasn’t.
It wasn’t their fault that Jodie-May had somehow messed Aaron up. Wasn’t their fault they’d been kind and had let her go when they should have slaughtered her too.
Kindness was a sin in this world, but it wasn’t one I’d hold against my men.
I sucked down a breath and tried to remain calm when I heard Amaryllis begin crying in her sleep again.
You’ll get through this. You always do.
“I’m tired, Ryan. We were supposed to be safe here. These are our people—”
They’re our people, but this isn’t a safe world. It doesn’t matter whether you’re in an MC or living in the suburbs, the world isn’t safe, baby. But, I promise you this, I’ll never leave her. Never leave either of you. Not again.
My eyes grew wet again. How could I rely on that? Some figment of my imagination that only appeared when I was stressed or terrified or… worse.
Worse because nothing had ever been more petrifying than these past two days.
Forty-eight hours.
That was all it took to rob me of the haven I’d made for myself here.
I’m here, Lucie. You can think you’re going crazy, in fact, I get that from all of you—
“You speak to the others? I know Dagger said you did, but I don’t know…”
It’s farfetched, yeah. But Lucie, I love you. This kind of love doesn’t die. I’ll be here until you take your last breath.
I pressed my fingers to my eyes. “What did I do to deserve that kind of love?”
You were you, and you let me be me.
My mouth twisted at that. “You say that like you were a freak.”
No, but for this world, I was. I wasn’t made for an MC. You and I both know that, but you never held it against me.
“Of course I didn’t,” I rasped. “You were perfect just as you were.”
Sure, he’d written poetry and had liked to paint, but that wasn’t a fucking crime. I knew what he meant though. This world I lived in wasn’t a creative one. At least, not for the men.
He’d become a prospect for me. Had become a brother for me.
That kind of love?
Jesus.
They love you just as much.
“I know,” I whispered.
“What do you know?”
Wolfe’s voice came out of nowhere, and I jerked in surprise before he rested his hand on my belly and dragged me back into him. “You should be asleep.”
“Can’t,” I mumbled. “Can’t leave her.”
“You need the rest, babes. It’s not long now.”
And it wasn’t.
Three weeks until my due date. Only God knew who the father was—
Flame. I hope the kid has his red hair.
My eyes widened at that, and somehow, from out of this chaos, I managed to smile.
God, I hoped my kid had that shock of auburn hair too.
“The fuck?” Wolfe rasped, making me jolt. He reached up and rubbed his forehead. “Did you hear that?”
Course she did, dumbass. Was speaking to both of you. My momma didn’t raise me to be rude.
I could sense Wolfe’s surprise, sensed it when his knees buckled and he backed into the wall.
“Is that Ryan?”
“Yeah. He comes and talks to me every now and then.”
“Talks to you?” he demanded, his voice as close to a squeak as his baritone would allow.
Yeah. I keep her company, don’t I, babe?
“I’m going crazy. These past few days—”
I wasn’t in the mood for this conversation. Instead, I stated gruffly, “I’m not going anywhere. Ama needs me.”
“So do we all.” He sighed as he rested his chin on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Lucifer.”
My brows furrowed at his formal tone. “It isn’t your fault.”
“I don’t know how you can’t think it is.” He sighed again, and then when he turned his face into my throat, I tensed when I felt his tears, and immediately melted into him, not stopping until we were pressed tightly together. “I’m so sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault,” I repeated, my tone harder this time. I needed him to know that I didn’t blame him. “We did everything we could. We had the alarm systems, we had everything in place. H-He just got in.”
“Nobody will ever touch her again,” he rasped. “As God or as Lucifer is my witness, I don’t care which, so long as you know that I will die before I let anyone take her—”