The Diablo raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Seems that way.”
“We always wondered where you had gone.” Juan shrugged, all arrogance as he stared down three men who could kill him in a flash. But then, he knew they wouldn’t shoot. They couldn’t hit him without hitting me. “We could still use a man of your skills, if you wish to return.”
Angelo tilted his head.
“We can forgive you for abandoning the cartel for the Tejano joke that is your little biker gang.”
Angelo shook his head. Hush took that opportunity to try to move to the left. “I wouldn’t,” Juan warned. He pushed the blade into my throat, and I cried out as I felt the sharp edge. I didn’t dare swallow. Hush stilled. Juan’s mouth came to rest on my cheek. I caught a scream in my mouth as his chest rubbed against my wound. “He deserved to die,” Juan said of the Nazi. “I’m the only one who desecrates this skin.”
I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I looked at Hush and Cowboy. “Please . . .” Their gazes set on mine. “Go.” They didn’t move. But I knew Garcia had no one left to help him or he wouldn’t be threatening my life. They could get out. I knew I was always going to end up here again. “Go,” I begged.
“No,” Hush replied firmly. Cowboy shook his head. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt my tears hit Juan’s ear.
I opened them again. “GO!” I shouted, the effort causing blistering pain to shoot through my upper back. I breathed through the pain. “Please,” I whispered. “Save yourselves.”
Hush and Cowboy kept their eyes on me. I met the two shades of blue I adored so much and felt a strange sense of completion. I may have lost them, thrust back into this hell with Juan, but at least I had loved. At least I had felt the adoration and kindness that I’d only ever seen in movies.
I smiled weakly. They would have been perfect for me. We would have been perfect together.
Suddenly, a choked gurgle came from Juan’s mouth. His hand slipped away. Hush grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him. My legs buckled, and Hush caught me before I fell. The sound of a heavy object hitting the floor echoed around the room. I quickly turned my head to witness Juan on the floor, throat slit and bleeding out. Then I looked up and—
“Hey, sis.”
“Ky,” I whispered in surprise, just as Styx and Tanner ran into the room. Styx had his German blade in hand, blood over his arms and cheeks. He gave me the ghost of a smile, his broad shoulders dropping some when he locked eyes with me.
“We gotta go,” Angelo said. “We got about thirty minutes before the trucks return and we’re as fucked as the bitches they steal to sell.”
Hush scooped me up in his arms. Ky moved beside me, his eyes on fire as he looked at my back.
“Sia.” He ran his hand down my arm. Such agonized pain flashed across his face that I could have cried. But then Hush was rushing me through the empty hallways. Angelo led us out of a back door and into another building. We kept to the shadows. With every step Hush took, I clenched my teeth against the pain the jerky movements sent to my back. I glanced behind me. Styx was propping Cowboy up, his beaten face swelling and deepening purple.
We had just rounded the corner when we came face to face with a man at the exit door. I stared at that door, knowing it was our escape to freedom. Then I looked at the man who had drawn his gun, surprise written on his face. His tattoos were the same white-power symbols as the Nazi who carved our backs had. Hush tensed and held me closer.
Suddenly, Tanner stepped forward. The man’s eyes widened. “Tanner Ayers?” he asked in shock, and then his eyes narrowed. He lifted his gun higher. “We were all told you’d defected from the cause to join this fucking impure gang.” He opened his mouth again, but Tanner whipped a gun from his cut and sent a bullet straight into the Nazi’s head. His dead body slumped to the floor.
“Fuck yeah,” Angelo said, then quickly led us through the door. We raced to a waiting van. As we all piled in, Angelo stopped and said, “I’ll be a minute.” He ducked away, leaving the van doors open.
I jumped as a sudden blast of heat shot through the van. Light blinded my eyes, making me flinch. Loud bangs and deafening pops seemed to echo around the van like we were caught in the middle of a crossfire.
“What the fuck?” Ky snarled, rushing to the entrance of the van. The buildings that housed the girls were alight. I watched the flames climb higher and higher as they devoured the godforsaken structures. Adrenaline surged through me, and I tried to scramble from the van.
“Michelle!” I cried frantically, my voice too quiet to be heard outside the van. “She’s still inside!” Someone held me back. I clawed at the arms. “Let me go!” I screamed, my blood rushing through my veins. “Michelle! I need to get to Michelle!” But the arms wouldn’t let me go. I kicked and thrashed, trying to break free. I looked back to see Ky’s stony face. “Ky! Let me the fuck go!” My head turned back to the camp. “No!” I cried. The place was a fucking inferno. There wasn’t a building untouched. All burning to the fucking ground.
I slumped in Ky’s arms, no longer feeling my legs, all my strength stolen away by the blaze before me. The heat from the buildings rose until my face began to sweat. I didn’t even notice Ky had moved me away from the doors, placing my back against the van’s wall, until Cowboy laid a gentle hand on my arm. I looked tiredly, numbly, into his bruised eyes. “She wanted to go home,” I pleaded, voice cracking. “To the green fields of Texas.” I swallowed. “Her parents deserve to have her back . . .”
Cowboy’s gaze filled with sympathy, the light of the fires outside reflected in his blue eyes. “Not like she is,” he said softly. “They couldn’t cope with what she went through. We’ll get word to them, but we’ll spare them the truth. No one could cope with their daughter being put through that.”
I held Hush’s hand tightly. Cowboy stroked his thumb along my face. I could feel Ky watching us. But I had no energy to spare for him right now. I slumped back against Hush, letting him cradle me in his warm arms. Cowboy leaned into Hush, the last of his energy seeming to drain away.
Angelo, or as Ky had called him, Shadow, came to the door. He was slightly breathless. He smiled, making his already handsome face breathtaking. “Couldn’t fucking stand this place when I worked here. Been dreaming of torching it since I got out.”
The door shut, plunging us into darkness. AK opened the latch between the cabin and the ba
ck of the truck. “How many?” Tanner asked.
“Fifteen,” AK replied.
Tanner nodded and then lowered his eyes to some iPad-type device. “The road’s clear. The brothers are all on guard and expecting us.” He sighed. “An hour to the all-clear.” I looked up at Hush to see him watching Tanner like a hawk. But as the van started moving, I gave in to the sleep that was calling.
And I sent a prayer to Hades to welcome Michelle into the afterlife with open arms. Her beautiful face once again intact, with a wide smile upon her lips as she danced through the Elysian Fields.
But Juan . . . that fucking bastard could burn in Tartarus.
Chapter Twelve
Hush
We walked through the door to our apartment. I should have breathed a huge sigh of relief. Instead the numbness that had possessed me since Mexico remained in place. If anything, it was growing stronger, its weight starting to make me buckle.
We’d been at the Diablos’ place for three days. Doctors had stitched up Sia and Cowboy. But their brand, the one I’d recognized in an instant, could still be seen.
23/2 . . . The Klan mark for people who were in a mixed-race couple. I knew, because three days after moving to town as a teen, it had been spray-painted on our house. White and black. Unacceptable. Forbidden. Wrong. Worse, in their eyes . . . punishable by death.
Sia’s hand landed on my back. She was better—still pale and in pain, but the IV and the pills the Diablos’ doctor had given her had helped. Cowboy too. I looked up to find him watching me. I studied the bruises and cuts on his body. A beating he took because they thought he was with me too. Something he never denied, of course, just to fuck people off.
I sighed and got a glass of water. We’d left a while ago, driving back in silence. Sia was unusually quiet, no doubt thinking of Michelle. Cowboy, who always spoke, was quiet too. I kept thinking they were looking at me . . . placing the blame at my feet.
Because I should have been with them. If I hadn’t had the seizure, I would have been. I would have helped defend the ranch. Maybe if I’d been there, none of this would ever have happened. Sia couldn’t even think of returning to her ranch; too many nightmares awaited her. Clara. Her horses . . . everything she’d built had been razed.