“Sia!” Ky called. I blinked into focus. My brother kneeled in front of me. “You’re coming home with me.”
I shook my head. “No.” My arms wrapped over my chest, a shield to fend off the thought of leaving. “I don’t want to.” I swept my eyes around my home. The only place I now ever felt safe in. “You know I can’t leave.” Ky went to speak, but I cut in before he could. “I know I went to y’all’s weddings. I wouldn’t have missed them for the world. But I can’t leave here for too long. I . . . I . . .” I searched for more of an explanation, to put into words the vapid stream of anxiety forming in my stomach like a black pit, stealing all of my courage, my reason, my sanity, my very being.
It was ironic: when I was a teen, I made a vow to leave Austin and stop all contact with the Hangmen.
Then, one escape . . .
That was all it took to make me wish I had never set foot outta Texas. Never cut all ties with the Hangmen.
And one man . . .
One man, named Garcia, to make me long for the lazy Texas days and the sound of horses’ hooves padding on the grass outside of my old bedroom window.
“I don’t give a shit if you wanna come or not, Sia. You’re coming, and that’s that.”
The lack of empathy in Ky’s outright order broke through the mental fog that shielded my inner thoughts. A fire ignited the kindling that lived within me. My chin tilted high and my eyes narrowed to stare at my brother. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that, Kyler Willis. Don’t mistake me for a club whore who’ll jump at your command.” Ky’s face reddened. But I wouldn’t be spoken to like this. Right now, my brother resembled the one man who’d treated me like an errant child. A man I blamed for all the shit in my life. “I love Lilah, I truly do. But I am not some meek and submissive woman who’ll accept your orders. I’m your sister, not your fucking lapdog.”
Ky slowly rose to his feet. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
“Does he know where I live?” I asked my brother. He didn’t answer. “I said, does Garcia know where I am?”
Ky’s eyes snapped open. “It’s only a matter of time.”
I got to my feet, ignoring the shaking of my legs. I boldly met Ky’s eyes. “Then I ain’t leaving my ranch. I’m hidden. I’ve been hidden for years. False identity. False deeds on this place. For Christ’s sake, I live in the fucking boondocks. No one around for miles. He ain’t making me leave my home. I won’t give him that satisfaction.”
“Think again.” Ky stood taller. “Get upstairs and pack a bag, and tell that young bitch we hired to help you that she’ll be taking care of things around here ’til you’re back. Tell her there’s a family emergency or some shit.”
My heart pumped faster. “I. Ain’t. Going. Clara can’t deal with everything herself. We have two mares in foal, two saddle broncs that need training. I’m needed here.”
We argued back and forth, back and forth, voices and tempers rising, until a loud whistle cut through our squabbling. I snapped my eyes to Styx, who was standing before the fireplace. His face was like thunder, and he looked like a fucking Titan, he was so huge. He raised his hands. “Sia, grab your shit. You’re coming with us.” I swallowed, defeat settling over me like an unwelcome rain shower on a sunny day. “Ky, calm the fuck down.” Ky turned and bust out of the front door of my ranch. I watched my brother go. I had an eerie feeling that this—the argument, his shitty mood—wasn’t all down to Garcia.
Styx cleared his throat. “You two are way too fucking similar. Both a pain in my ass.” He paused, then signed, “More going on at the club than you know. So how about you chill the fuck out with all the dramatics. I get enough on the daily with my fucknut brothers without adding you into the mix.” His lips tightened, and I knew I wasn’t gonna get my way. “You’re coming with us. I ain’t giving you an option. You’re Hangmen family. And that fucker is sniffing around. Pack your bag so we can get the fuck gone.”
Feeling like a sulking teen, I stormed past Styx toward my bedroom, shouldering him as I passed. He didn’t even move. “Sometimes I fucking hate the family I’ve been born into. Chauvinistic pricks. Y’all have fucking god complexes.”
Styx didn’t even flinch at my words. “As long as that complex belongs to the Dark Lord holding a noose and an Uzi, I’m fucking all right with owning that shit. It’s the way it is. Ain’t gonna change because you’re pitching a fit,” he signed. “You don’t have to like my orders, but you will obey them.” Then he added, “You’ve got ten minutes,” before he left to go after my brother.
Too angry to even give two shits about what was wrong with Ky—it was probably some “club business” I wouldn’t be allowed to know anyway—I stuffed clothes and toiletries into a bag and called Clara to ask her to watch the ranch while I was gone and get help from the vet if she needed it. He owed me a favor or a million for taking in sick horses when his practice was full.
Ten minutes later, my house was locked up and I was in my truck, following my brothers to the Hangmen compound. With each mile I drove away from the safe haven of my ranch, I felt less and less myself. I heard Garcia’s voice in my head, telling me he was coming for me. Threatening that he’d own me once and for all.
But like Kyler, I was good at covering what was bothering me.
So I’d pull up my big-girl panties and stay at the club for a while. As we passed through downtown Austin, lights from South Congress Avenue illuminating the cab of my truck, I let two images of Hades guide me: his smug face, and a noose, reminding why I ran away all those years ago.
This club was quicksand. A quicksand in which I was hell-bent on not getting stuck.
*****
“Aunt Sia!” The second I opened the door to Ky’s home, Grace came barreling forward and slammed into my legs.
“Gracie-Bell!” I called, dropping my bags to the floor. I picked my niece up and kissed her cheek. I pulled on a strand of her curly hair. “Curls?”
“Momma curled it for me just now, before bed.”
“It’s beautiful, darlin’.” I looked over her shoulder as my brother brushed past us, running his hand over Grace’s hair before making a beeline for the living room. “Where’s your momma, darlin’?”
“In the living room.” I made my way into the room to see Ky sitting on the couch, kissing his wife.
“I am okay. You need to stop being overprotective,” I heard Lilah whisper against his lips.
Grace groaned and covered her eyes. “They’re kissing. Again!”
I laughed. Ky and Lilah turned around. Lilah moved to get up from the couch, and Ky grabbed her hand, helping her up. Lilah put a hand on his cheek. “I am fine, Ky. Relax. I am not ill.”
Ky looked like he was about to argue, but then shut his mouth. He flicked his eyes to me, then back to his wife. “I’m gonna grab a shower.”
Lilah turned to face me, a huge smile spreading on her lips. “Sia!” she sang as she came toward me. I placed Grace on the floor, and Lilah wrapped her arms around me. “It is so good to see you.”
I hugged her back. “Everything okay?”
“Everything is fine,” she said and moved into the kitchen. She’d had an operation a while back, but as far as I knew she’d made a full recovery. “More to the point, are you okay?” She put water in the coffee pot and turned to me. “I do not know it all, but I know that Ky is worried about that man . . .” She lowered her voice, checking that Grace was still playing in the living room. “From your past.”
I swallowed, but nodded. Lilah smiled, hair falling over her eyes. Lilah knew men like Garcia. She had lived with worse as a child. Yet she had come through the other side.
I knew, in reality, I was still living in purgatory. The truth was, I hadn’t lived much of a life at all since coming back home from that god-awful time in Mexico. Lilah didn’t know it, but she was my hero. To go through what she went through and survive long enough to be given her own happily-ever-after. It was my ultimate dream. But I wasn’t naive. Lilah was a lucky one. I
was damaged goods. Not all of us were awarded the fairytale ending.
“I hope you are okay with decaf. It is all we have.”
“Sure,” I said. She sat down beside me at the table. My heart squeezed at the sight of the scar on her face. It always did. I took a sip of my coffee. “What’s wrong with Ky, Li?”
Lilah froze, her cup halfway to her mouth. She sighed and shook her head. It took her a few moments to reply. “He just gets overwhelmed at times. I know he can come across pushy and rude, but he is just dealing with a lot. The club, the threats. Me.” She laughed a single laugh and played with the handle of her cup. “He always worries about me. About Grace.” She lifted her eyes and added, “And you. I am not sure you know how protective he is of you, Sia. He worries for you greatly. So much so that he broke club protocol and told me about the man who hurt you, the one who has returned. It was weighing heavily on his mind. He needed to unburden himself to me.” She squeezed my hand. “You are his only blood family. He loves you so much.” A pause. A tender smile. “We all do. Grace, your brother and I.”
Lilah’s soft confession made the anger I was keeping close to my chest lessen. In that moment, I couldn’t speak. He was all I really had left too; they all were. The sound of Grace laughing drew my attention to the living room. Ky was fresh out of the shower, dressed only in jeans, his long hair dripping with water. Grace screamed and ran to the couch as he flicked the watery strands on her.
Lilah laughed, the sound enough to pull my brother’s gaze. He looked past Lilah to me, and the smile he was wearing for his daughter fell. I gave him a small nod, glad to see him happy. Ky came into the kitchen and poured himself a coffee.