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The whooshing sound, I thought, must have been a blow torch.

“Get the fuck away,” I snarled.

Jase tipped the iron toward me . . . and I saw the letter burning like fire on the end. “N.” My body started to shake. Jase, without another word, went behind me . . . and then I screamed. I bit down on my tongue, drawing blood, when the iron was pressed into the skin on my back. My body thrashed; my skin felt like it had been set on fire. My arms jerked, and my jaw cracked from how tightly I was clenching it. My eyes rolled as I fought for consciousness. I heard voices, then engines starting.

Every part of me shook as the woods were plunged into darkness. The wood of the barn beside me creaked, swaying slightly in the wind. My vision was blurred, and I could feel myself growing dizzy. “No,” I whispered, feeling what I knew was a seizure coming on. I tried to move my legs, just to do something. To try and get free, but every time I moved, my back would send such excruciating pain through my body that I nearly passed out.

Suddenly, light blazed around me. I heard the sound of a truck. I tried to scramble to my feet, thinking they had come back. I tried to turn my head, the dizziness getting worse and worse, then I heard, “What the fuck?” Footsteps ran toward me, and a face came into view.

Aubin Breaux, my brain told me just as the familiar metallic taste of seizure burst on my tongue. I tried to open my mouth, tried to tell him to go away, but everything went black . . .

The silence in the room was deafening as I paused to get my shit together. I heard a sniff, and when I looked down, Sia was crying, gripping my arm like a vise. “Turn over,” she requested, her voice cracking.

I knew why. And as much as I didn’t want her to look, I did want her to understand . . .

I stared out of the window as Sia lifted up my shirt. Her fingers moved to my skin, and I knew when she had found the scar I would never remove, under the disguise of my Hangmen patch. She traced the perfectly placed “N” on my back. There was no need to explain what it stood for. She would know. And I wouldn’t fucking give it power by saying that shit out loud.

I was just about to roll over when I felt Sia’s mouth pressing kisses on the ruined skin, up and down, following the shape of the capital letter. When she stopped, I turned to lie again on my back. Hooking my hand around her head, I brought her in for a kiss. Her lips tasted of salt from her tears.

“It’s okay, älskling,” I whispered against her lips, then pressed kiss after kiss along her face.

“No, it fucking isn’t.”

I had to smile. Even torn apart by hearing the shit I went through, she was still as feisty as ever.

“But it’s done.”

Her big blue eyes stared up at me. “What does that word mean? That you called me?”

My fucking chest pulled. “It’s a Swedish term of endearment. What someone says to someone they care for.” I gave a small smile. “My mamma always said it to my papa.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Then it fits.”

Cowboy sat on the end of the bed, back straight, head in his hands. He was turned away from us. “Aub,” I called. His back stiffened.

He didn’t say anything in response. Sia turned and laid her hand on his back. His muscles shifted. “You helped him, didn’t you?” she asked.

I waited for my best friend to speak. When he didn’t, didn’t even turn around, I said, “I came around in his truck.” I stared at Cowboy’s back. “I was lying on my front. I had no idea where I was at first. I was in a truck, traveling somewhere. I couldn’t place names or faces, because of the seizure. But I saw a guy in a Stetson driving. Little by little my memories came back . . ..”

My muscles tensed as I remembered Jase . . . remembered the brand. I moaned as the burn on my back slammed into me with so much pain I couldn’t see straight.

“Shit,” the guy said, then turned his face. Panic mixed with fury traveled through me. Aubin Breaux was driving me somewhere. I racked my brain trying to remember if he’d been there. I saw every one of those assholes’ faces . . . but his was missing.

I tried to move. What were they going to do to me now?

“Valan,” he said, whipping his head briefly in my direction as he tried to keep his eyes on the road. “I’m taking you home. I ain’t gonna hurt you. I’m taking you home.” I knew my eyes were wide as he looked down at me. “I swear.” He swallowed. “I didn’t know he was gonna do that shit, okay? I got held up at the ranch, didn’t get Jase’s message to meet them until later. I . . .” I looked out of the window as we turned left. The rocking of the truck on an uneven path saw me white-knuckling the seat just to make it fucking through this ride. “I didn’t know they had this planned. Didn’t believe they’d go this far.” Aubin stopped the truck and narrowed his eyes. “This your house?” I couldn’t see. His face reddened; I could see it in the truck’s light. “Small wooden house. Next to the marshes?” Fucker was embarrassed by describing my house.

Before I could even answer, I heard the slam of a door and feet running across the dirt. “Val?” I closed my eyes, hearing my mamma’s voice.

Aubin got out of the truck. “Ma’am, there’s been an incident. He’s hurt.”

“What?” she said, her voice shrill. The truck’s door flew open behind me, but I closed my eyes. “Valan . . .” My mamma trailed off, throat cutting off her words. “My God! What have they done?”

Arms gently lifted me. I screamed out in pain as I felt my papa take hold of me. “It’s okay, son.” He pulled me to his chest. I was sweating, my body limp and exhausted.

I caught Aubin Breaux’s eyes as I passed him. His hat was in his hand, and his fingers were raking through his hair. My mamma ran to me and kissed my head. Tears streamed down her face. Her hand was over her mouth. “They had him tied to a tree,” Aubin explained. My mamma looked back at him as my papa carried me toward the house. “When I got there . . . after . . . when I found him.” Aubin stopped speaking. He met my eyes as my papa carried me up the steps. “Something was wrong with him. He fainted, and his body started jerking funny.”

My mamma reached out to Aubin. “Thank you, son. You are a good boy.”

He isn’t, I wanted to argue. He’s one of them. But my papa had brought me inside before I could . . .

Sia rose to her knees and wrapped her arms around Cowboy from behind. “You’re a good man, Cowboy.”

“I’m not.” My fucking heart fell at the croak in his voice. “I should’ve put a stop to that shit before it got to that point. I should never have let them do a damn thing to him.”

“You said it yourself, you didn’t know any better. But you helped when it counted,” I said, and this time, my brother turned his head and looked at me. “Then he came back. After a few days, there was a knock at the door. My mamma hoped it was the police. We reported it, of course, but nothing was done. The police in that town belonged to those families.”

“Then what?”

“My mamma came into my bedroom, telling me I had a guest.” I shook my head. “I had no friends, so I had no idea who the hell it was.” I pointed at Cowboy. “Then he came walking through, smelling of horses, with a fucking look on his face that just dared me to kick him out.” I huffed out a laugh. “Should have known that was him sticking around for good.”

Cowboy smiled back, but it wasn’t his usual grin. “Asshole told me to get the fuck out.” Cowboy dropped his head in guilt. “I deserved it, but—”

“My mamma let him stay. She shut the door to my bedroom. I was still only able to lie on my front. I watched him like a hawk as he sat across the room on my old desk.”

“What the fuck do you want?” My pulse was racing, heart slamming as Aubin Breaux sat in my house, staring at what his buddies had done to my back.

He played with his hat. “Wanted to check you were okay.”

“Get out,” I ordered again.

He lifted his cocky gaze my way. “Your mamma said I can stay.”

“Why?” I growle

d, wincing as my back splintered in pain when I tried to move. “Why do you want to?”

Aubin shrugged. “Don’t know.” He dropped his head. “What was wrong with you?” He glanced at my walls, at the pictures of old Harleys. “Prefer Choppers myself.”

“That explains a lot,” I snapped. But the fucker smiled, and my eyes narrowed. I didn’t know what to do with that.

His expression sobered. “Really . . . Valan . . .” My name sounded strange coming from his lips. “What’s wrong with you?”

I turned away to look out of the window. Mamma’d had to keep the window shut for the past few days. The breeze felt like razor blades as it ran over my raw flesh. My room felt too stuffy now. But I was stuck here.

“Valan?”

“Why do you care? So you can go back to your buddies and tell them? So you can use it against me?”

“I haven’t seen them,” he said, then boldly met my eyes. He sighed. “Not sure I’m gonna keep in with them.” I raised my eyebrow. “Not sure I can, not after what they’ve done.”

“Why do you care?”

“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Just ain’t sitting well with me. Didn’t know it would bother me this much until it has.”

My mamma opened the door and brought in some drinks. “Aubin,” she said and handed him a glass.


Tags: Tillie Cole Hades Hangmen Erotic