Everything goes quiet.
Then I turn. I shove my gun into my waistband and Cora’s on her feet. She runs to me and throws herself into my arms and I hug her, hug her tight, and I kiss her hard, tasting her lips and claiming her as mine. I squeeze her hard enough that I feel like I might break her and breathe her smell. She’s crying into my shoulder and I’m grinning like an idiot despite the three dead bikers scattered in the leaves.
Finally, I put her down and wipe her eyes. “You’re safe,” I say quietly and look up at Kady. She’s staring at us with a small, distant smile on her face. “You’re safe too.”
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Kady says. “If I never, ever see a lake again, I’ll be happy.”
Cora kisses me one more time and takes my hand and squeezes it. “What’s this mean for the war back home?”
“Three more bodies won’t make much of a difference, but it’ll definitely hurt them.”
“Good fucking riddance,” Kady says and glares at Craig’s corpse. “I won’t miss that piece of trash.”
“Come on.” I lead the girls to the car. Kady gets in the back and Cora sits up front. I check the Rover for damage and it seems like it’ll be fine, though there are some dents and scratches from hitting the motorcycles. “Stay here. Don’t move.” I run into the house and rip through each room, grabbing anything the girls left behind. The less evidence, the better. I find the burner on the floor under the bed and shove it into my pocket before sprinting back outside.
I climb into the driver’s seat and start the engine.
Cora looks at me, smiles, and puts her hand in mine.
I grin back—and remember what Ben said.
The initials of the person that ratted out Cora and threw us onto this path all those years ago.
AS.
Anette Stone.
Cora’s mother.
Chapter 25
Nolan
We drive for a few hours until we cross over the Louisiana state border and into Mississippi. It’s late and the girls are exhausted so I find a shady-looking motor lodge that takes cash and doesn’t ask questions. The room has two queen beds and it’s clean enough, and Kady immediately takes a shower while I figure out how we’re going to get something to eat.
Cora stretches out on the bed and watches me pace back and forth as I scroll through my phone looking through delivery options. I’m not going to leave the girls, not even to pick up a fucking sandwich, which means dinner has to come to us.
“You’re stressed,” she says.
I don’t look at her. “I’m fine. Just trying to figure out how we’re gonna eat.”
“It’s not about food. You’re stressed about something else. You’ve been even more quiet than usual on the drive.”
I glance over and give her a smile. “I’m just worried I won’t be able to keep my hands off you tonight.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be gross.”
“You think I’m kidding around? I finally have you back. I’m not going to waste a single second. I’m making the best of every single second I have with you from here on out.”
“You’re not making the best of anything while Kady’s in the room. You hear me?”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.”
She smiles a bit and shakes her head. “No, you’re worried about something else. Stop trying to deflect me with jokes. Are things back in Marietta worse than you said?”
“It’s not about Marietta.”
“What’s the matter then?” She sits up straight, staring at me hard, her smile gone. “If we’re going to make this work, I need you to be honest with me. Even if it hurts, I need everything from you.”
I pause and look at her, wondering how I’m supposed to break this news on top of everything else. It’s like a nightmare I can’t wake up from even though all I want to do is open my eyes. I want these girls to be safe, taken care of, protected. And yet now I have to tell Cora something I know is going to hurt her.
I think about lying. Not outright—but by omission. Maybe I can keep it from her. She’s already looking at her sister differently—what’s this going to do for her relationship with her mom? Why not let the dead rest? Telling Cora that her mother is the one that stabbed her in the back won’t change a damn thing. I know my crew’s clean, and that’s what matters. We’ll be safe, at least from my people.
But I can’t keep it from her. We’ve lived too long with too many lies and I want to start this off right. I want to love her the way she deserves, and sometimes real love involves hurting the person we care about the most.
She’s right: she deserves all of me.
Even the painful parts.