Cowboy

 

The sun woke me, its bright rays making me flinch. I groaned, my body aching from the past few days and my stomach growling for food and coffee. A warm body pressed against my side. Smiling, I cracked open my eyes and peered down at the head on my shoulder. Sia was still asleep, hand on my chest and her breath blowing on my neck. I checked the clock on the table beside me. Fuck. We’d slept through the late afternoon and right through the night. That’s what a fucking kidnapping to Mexico would do to you.

I glanced over to check if Hush was awake. My brow furrowed when I saw he wasn’t there. A weird feeling settled in my stomach at how he had been yesterday, at how he’d seemed after we’d both taken Sia. The brother was obviously bothered by something. The way he’d hovered at the door of the bedroom while Sia cried, instead of getting his ass to bed to make sure she was okay.

Gently lifting Sia’s arm off me, I slid out of bed. She moaned, almost waking up, but then settled back down into the sheets. My chest fucking expanded watching her. Unable to keep away, I leaned down and kissed her shoulder. The knife marks on her lower neck were healing. But the numbers were still as visible as the moment they were carved. Mine were too.

Like with most things in life, I gave zero fucks. Fucker thought he could shame us with those derogatory Klan numbers. I was gonna wear that shit like a damn military medal.

With fucking pride.

I threw on my jeans and walked into the kitchen. Nothing was switched on. I checked the coffee pot where we made the chicory coffee. It was cold. Frowning, I went to Hush’s bedroom. It was empty, the covers on the bed not even touched. I started to turn away, but then I noticed his side table was open a little. I checked behind me to make sure Hush wasn’t around. Everything was silent but for the soft sounds of Sia sleeping in my bed.

The floorboards creaked beneath my feet as I walked to the drawer. I opened it, and a huge fucking lump clogged my throat when I saw what was missing. “His picture,” I said to myself . . . then my heart plummeted like a fucking rock when I saw his meds.

I backed out of the room and quickly checked the rest of the house. Nothing. Shit! I burst out of the door and ran to the garage. “Fuck!” I shouted. His bike had gone. Heart hammering, I flew back up the stairs. Sia was walking from the bedroom, sheet wrapped around her.

“Cowboy? What is it?” she asked, face pale, wiping the sleep from her eyes. I didn’t blame the bitch. She’d been to hell and back these past few weeks.

“He’s gone.” I ran past her into my bedroom. I threw on my shirt and cut. Sia followed me.

“Gone?” she asked, her face filled with confusion.

“Hush.” I rushed into Hush’s bedroom and grabbed his meds. I stuffed them into my cut. I entered the hallway to see Sia getting dressed.

“Cher,” I said. “I’ll take you to Ky’s. I gotta go after Hush.” Because I knew exactly where he’d gone. The only place I knew he would go without me. Our fucking home. I always knew that one day he’d return. He’d kept too much inside him for too long. How much could a fucking brother handle before he exploded? He never spoke about his folks. Or that night. Kept it all inside his head, letting it all build and build until it had become too much.

I caught sight of Sia’s “23/2” brand. Ice cut through me like I’d been plunged onto the Mid-Atlantic. I’d seen him staring at our wounds. I’d caught him clenching his fists, face paling as he stared at them.

Panic set in. What if he’d done something really stupid?

“I’m coming,” Sia said, pulling me from my head. My vision focused on her. I opened my mouth to argue, but she added, “If he’s gone. If he’s hurt.” She winced, as if those thoughts alone fucking killed her. “Then I’m coming.” Sia took my hand. “We’re a team. You, me, and Hush. And I ain’t gonna be benched because I’ve got a pussy.” My lip twitched. She kissed me on my cheek. “I love him. I love you. I need to be there . . . wherever it is we’re going.”

I grabbed my Chopper’s keys and Sia’s hand. “Hope you can ride, cher. ’Cause it’s gonna be a long-ass fucking drive. And I ain’t planning on stopping.”

She pulled on my hand, bringing me to a halt. “I’m a biker bitch, Breaux. I was riding on the back of bikes before I learned to walk.” I winked, laughing at the sass that had been missing far too long, and dragged her out of the apartment. I pulled out of the apartment block and cut up road. Sia held on tight.

We had a fucking date with Louisiana.

 

*****

 

I cut like lightning through the old streets. The diner I ate at every day. The tattoo shop where I got my first ink . . . white power. I gritted my teeth just fucking remembering that. Remembering seeing Hush and his daddy being forced from the diner like it was the sixties and black and white couldn’t mix. I supposed this town was the place that time forgot. Stuck in the past. Small minds and even smaller tolerances for anything outside of the norm.

Sia squeezed my waist tighter, as if she knew I was fucking warring with myself. I was a bat out of hell as I tore up the asphalt and joined the back roads that led to where I knew my brother would be. The ground was wet. We’d just missed a storm that had blown in. My body tensed on seeing a familiar set of trees in the near distance.

“Is this it?” Sia asked, her mouth near my ear.

I nodded. For once I couldn’t fucking speak. All I saw were the ghosts of that night. Saw the orange glow from the flames that were ripping my best friend’s world apart as he’d sat beside me in the truck. It had been me who’d taken him to the fucking rodeo that day. If I hadn’t . . . if he’d have stayed . . .

Then I would have lost him.

I shook my head. Because as much as I loved his parents, saw what losing them had done to him . . . I wouldn’t have handled losing him. He thought he was dependent on me. I was missing a fucking limb if he wasn’t with me.

Dread blanketed me as I turned in to the road I used to turn in to every day. It felt cold all of a sudden. Driving down the road made my skin break out in bumps and ice trickle down my spine. Sensing it again, Sia kissed the back of my neck . . . right over the numbers that caused Hush so much pain.

I held my fucking breath as we entered the Durands’ property. The first thing I saw was the pile of wood that used to be their home. Sia’s hands tightened on my cut. My hands tightened on my handlebars. There was a truck parked off to the side.

Then I noticed a familiar pair of boots at the side of the house. I launched from my bike; Sia followed quickly behind. My feet ground to a halt when I rounded the corner.

A fucking wash of tears pricked at my eyes when I saw the scene before me. Hush, on the floor, beaten and fucking covered in mud, shivering . . . between two makeshift crosses.

Love doesn’t see color . . .

I turned my head away for a second and ran my hand through my hair. I fought the fucking iron fist that had just slammed into my chest and put a death grip on my heart.

“Hush,” Sia cried, her voice a damn pained whisper. “God, baby, what have you done?” She bent down and ran her hands over his beaten face. Her tears splashed onto his cheeks. Then she froze. I followed what had captured her attention. In his hand, Hush held a picture. The only picture we’d been able to salvage from the rubble before we’d hitched a ride on a passing truck and got the fuck out of town.

I heard Sia’s breath hitch. She took the picture from Hush’s hand and brought it to her chest. Her eyes closed as she cried. Cried for a couple she’d never known. Her shaking hands placed the picture safely in her pocket.

She almost fucking destroyed me. Because the Durands would have loved her. They’d have fucking taken her in just like they did me. She’d have gained them as her family too.

And she’d have loved them.

“Hush,” she whispered and pressed a kiss to his lips. Hush’s leg moved. I walked closer, waiting for him to move again. My blood felt like ice in my veins. Please fucking wake up. Please. “Hush?” Sia tried again. A low moan left Hush’s mouth. He was caked in mud. His lips were blue. I wasn’t sure if it was from the beating he’d taken, the cold, or both. Anger shot through me where I stood, as I thought over who could have hurt him. I wondered if he’d searched out Jase and the rest of the dipshits. Then—

“Sia?” a familiar voice croaked.

It was like coming fucking home.

Sia nodded, unable to speak through the tears. She guided his head to her lap. My eyes moved from my brother to the crosses that were hammered into the desecrated land. A fucking pained noise left my throat when I saw what he’d carved. Mamma. Papa.

He’d never been to see his mamma’s grave. And we had no idea what had been done with his papa. Thrown in with other people who had no one to claim them.

“What happened to you, baby?” Sia whispered. Hush’s eyes were open. Bloodshot, dull, and real fucking tired.

He tried to get up, but he had to hold onto his ribs. Sia looked back at me, her stunning face stricken with grief for my broken brother. My feet slowly moved me forward. I dropped down into the sludge of mud he lay in. His blue eyes found me, then he broke down. Sia held him tighter. The brother didn’t even complain if she was hurting him. Instead he hung onto her like she was the only thing keeping him alive. Sia cried as she held him. Held him in the place that was his fucking hell on earth.

Then a hand came out for me. Closing my eyes, I reached out and clutched Hush’s hand and fucking just held on.

Hush finally pulled away from Sia. He dropped my hand. I moved behind him and helped him sit up. There wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t covered in mud. Hush’s breathing was shallow and pained. His disoriented eyes suddenly started searching all around him.

His photograph.

“Sia’s got it,” I said and watched him still. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“We need to get you clean and dry,” Sia said.

Hush met her eyes, but his were blank. Dead . . . it fucking terrified me.

I crouched down next to Sia. “Val.” His blue eyes fell to me. This close, I could see the state of his face. His entire body was battered and bruised. “We need to move you.”

Fucking tears started coming from Hush’s eyes. He looked back at the crosses. “There’s nowhere for me to go.”

Sia stilled, clutching his arms. She looked at me, eyes wide in obvious alarm. I shuffled closer. Hush was just staring at the crosses. “Val—”

“I saw pictures.” He choked on a sob. “They were everywhere. Surrounding them. And Mamma . . .” He sucked in a breath, the air wheezing in his chest. “She was in the window.” He pointed to where the window used to be. “She saw them . . .” he whispered. “She was watching them with their flaming torches and signs that told her she shouldn’t be with my papa . . . that she should never have had me.”

“Hush,” Sia said brokenly.

He blinked. Then looked at me. “Jase . . . Pierre . . . Stan . . . Davide . . . it was their initiation to the Klan.” My blood ran cold when what he was saying finally sank in. I shook my head, but Hush wasn’t finished. He looked into my eyes. “They were coming for me and my daddy.” He tried to move, like he had to flee from the words he was trying to force from his mouth. Sia backed away and let him move. He scrambled to the crosses, clutching the one he’d made for his mamma. His hands ran down her name and the inscription he’d carved. “But I had that fucking seizure,” he continued. “So she stayed . . . and took my place.” He screamed. Fucking bellowed into the air. Over and over again until his throat grew hoarse. “It should have been me,” he whispered and collapsed at the base of the cross.

Sia crawled forward and hugged him from behind. He looked up. “I have no one. No family.” My chest fucking cracked when he spoke those words. Because he had us.

He had us.

The sound of a bike’s roar made me look to the road. I pulled my gun from my belt. “Stay with him,” I told Sia. A Harley thundered toward the house. I raised my gun, wondering who the fuck it could be.

The rider stopped and got off his bike, and a face I knew well came into view. “Crow?” I said, real fucking confused. He marched to me and saw Hush on the ground, Sia protecting him with her body like a shield.

“Thank fuck!” Crow blew out a breath. “Thought I was gonna find him dead.” He shook his head. “He almost made a good job of that with Titus.”

I felt my face drain of color. “What?”

“Marched into the club and threw a fist at the prez.” Crow shook his head in disbelief. “Then just let Titus kick the shit outta him. I pulled Hush away and took him to my place. I . . .” He gave me a weird look. “I’d found out some stuff about how his folks died.” He ran his hand down his face. “Should’ve known he wasn’t in the right mind to hear it. I was fucked. Before he got to the club we’d been drinking all fucking day. I went to bed, leaving him with all the information about his past. Woke a few hours ago to see him, and my truck, gone. I roughly remembered where he’d lived and rode like fuck to get here. Fucking rode past this place a few times before I worked out it was where he used to live.”

I glanced back at Hush. He was sitting up. But his eyes were still lost. Fucking devoid of any kind of life. That scared me more than anything. “It was his granddaddy,” Crow said. I snapped my head back to my old VP. “He’s who got the Klan to start the fire.” He came closer still, voice low. “Wanted him and his daddy dead.” Crow hesitated, eyed me weirdly, then said, “Your folks knew too, man. Weren’t closely involved . . . but they knew something was going down. Just thought you should know.”

Blood rushed through my ears like a flood. My hands shook at my side.

“Hush has a list of those who were here. Who lit the place up.” Crow’s words hung between us. I got was he was saying loud and clear. They wouldn’t be walking this earth much longer. Hangmen brother code. Crow pointed his thumb south. “There’s a motel in the next town over. Get your boy and . . .” He looked at Sia.

“Sia,” I said. “Our old lady.”

Crow nodded, but his dark eyes fixed on me, like he was trying to read something in my eyes. “She understand club life?”

I laughed, although there was fuck-all humor in it. “She’s Ky’s sister.”

Crow’s eyes widened in surprise and then fell to Sia, who was watching closely. I knew she could hear every word. “Ky has a sister? Since when?”

“Long story.”

“He know you’ve taken his sister as your bitch?”

“Yeah, he knows,” Sia spoke up. “And this bitch couldn’t give two shits about what her brother thinks about us.”

Crow smiled. A fucking rarity for the sadistic brother. “Now I see the family resemblance.” Crow put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m gonna do some scouting around. There’re a few pricks in this town that have grabbed my attention.” His hand went into his pocket. I knew he was playing with his dice. “Get to the motel. Get him cleaned up. I got some jeans and shit in the truck you can have. I’ll come by later.”

As he got back on his bike, I said, “Why you helping us? If Titus finds out, he’ll kill you.”

“I’ll let your brother fill you in.” Crow drove away. I went to Hush. I pulled him off the ground and slung his arm around my neck. Sia went to his other side, mirroring my action. I knew he didn’t wanna go, but it was tough shit. He did have a family. He had people who fucking loved him.

And it was about time he let that sink in. Because we weren’t going anywhere.

At least, not anywhere he wasn’t coming too.

 

*****

 

I held Hush up in the shower as Sia went in with him, cleaning the blood and mud and ash from his body. He was shaking, his legs struggling to keep him upright. I’d made him take his meds the minute we got into the motel room. Hush sagged in my arms as Sia cleaned him, following each stroke of the soapy washcloth with a kiss on the skin of wherever she’d just washed. It took longer than a normal shower would, but eventually he was clean enough to take out. His skin was cut and bruised, especially his ribs. I’d grabbed Crow’s spare clothes from the truck, and I put them on Hush; he and Crow were a similar size. I laid him on the bed and Sia lay next to him. Hush’s eyes were shut in an instant. The brother reeked of whiskey. He needed to sleep.

“I’m gonna get us food,” I announced as Sia cuddled up beside him. The brother might have been fighting this—being with us, with Sia—with everything he had, but his body knew better. As Sia pressed into his side, his arm came around her and pulled her closer. His lips were on her forehead, and I watched as the bitch smiled, shutting her eyes and going to sleep too.

I stared at them for a while. Two people who’d had nothing but shit in their lives. Sia, who longed for someone—or some people—to love her. And Hush, who chased everyone away because all he’d ever seen was two people in love get destroyed because folks thought they’d chosen wrong.

I saw the parallels. Three of us. A mix of white and black. Two men and one woman. Plenty of folk would have an issue with us, for more than just the color of our skin. I couldn’t bring myself to care. But I knew he would. The brother had earned the right to just be fucking happy. Not to battle with dickheads who felt it was their God-given right to judge people for who they loved.

Sighing, I slipped through the door, locking it behind me. I blinked to see my Chopper sitting out front. I knew that somehow Crow had done it. Needing to feel the wind against my face, I chose my bike over the truck and just fucking rode. I rode for a fucking age before I dropped in at a burger bar. I took the food back to the motel.

As I walked through the door, I froze. Hush was awake, staring at Sia as he stroked her long blond hair. He turned to look at me, and I met his eyes. Last time they were blank and vacant. Now they were filled with so much fucking pain and anger and sadness, all rolled into one, that I wondered how he hadn’t broken apart before now.

“In the truck.” He pointed outside. I didn’t know what he meant, but I put down the food and went out to the truck anyhow. I searched the cabin until I found the folder stuffed into the glove compartment. I took it back inside. Hush hadn’t moved.

I sat down at the desk and started pawing through it. I never knew a person could feel so much rage and hatred as I turned over and read every page . . . studied every picture. By the time I read the section about my parents, I wanted to fucking rip something—or someone—the fuck apart. They were told by Moreau to get me away from Hush that night. Didn’t fucking question it. Just followed like the fucking devout fuckers they were.

Cunts.

I got to my feet and pushed my hands through my hair, gripping the strands and almost tearing them from my fucking scalp.

When I could breathe again, Hush met my eyes. His shoulders sagged and he looked away, toward the window. The curtains were closed. He was looking at nothing. I took the food over to him. “Eat.” Hush looked like he was gonna argue, but he needed to eat. For his epilepsy. Thankfully, Hush took the burger and fries from me and started to eat.

Sia woke up and smiled at Hush, then me. Hush stroked her hair again before kissing her lips. Sia ate her food in silence. We all did. When everything was eaten, I lay on the bed behind her. Her hand was on Hush’s chest, her fingertips running over his tattoos.

Hush was the first to speak. “I’ll never understand why anyone cares who anyone loves.” Sia tensed under my arm. I held her tighter. Hush’s voice was almost gone, too much stress over the past few days stripping him of energy and sound.

“Hush,” Sia soothed and went to put her hand on his cheek.

Hush put his hand on hers to stop her. “I don’t want a life for you where you’re judged for being with me. It might not happen today or tomorrow, but someone somewhere will say something, one day. It might even be more than words. I . . .” He shook his head. “I can’t do it to you both.”

“The world is changing,” Sia argued.

“Not quick enough.”

“Then we’ll create a world of our own,” she said defiantly and got to her knees, facing him. Hush’s sad eyes dropped to her, and she gripped his hand.

Then she gripped mine.

“In our home. It’ll be our world. We won’t have to give a shit about those outside. I love you both so fucking much.” She met Hush’s gaze. “Do you know that?”

“Yeah,” Hush said, voice breaking.

Sia’s face relaxed and her shoulders dropped. She leaned forward and kissed his bruised lips. He pulled back, forehead to hers. “You have family,” she whispered. She brought my hand to her lips. “We are a family.” She let out a breath. “The club . . .” She hesitated, then reluctantly added, “They’re our family too.” She ran her hand down Hush’s face. “You’re not alone. But you have to let us in.” A smile spread across her lips. “I know you’re ‘Hush.’ Your road name suits you, because you haven’t ever opened up to me, let me get close.” She looked at me, then back at Hush. “I’m not even sure you’ve truly let Cowboy in either.”

He hadn’t. Not completely.

“For years I’ve been waiting to wake up one day to you gone,” I said. Hush didn’t look at me. His eyes became lost as he stared unseeing at the sheets. “I always knew there was a part of you that’s closed off. Never dealt with . . .” I hated saying this, but . . . “your parents. How they died.” I looked him square in the eyes, until he had no choice but to return my gaze. “It wasn’t your fault, Val. The actions of those racist pricks could never be laid at your feet. Victims are never responsible for their own murders. It’s the evil fucks who ended them who are responsible.” I took his hand and fucking squeezed. “It’s time you forgave yourself. Because the way I see it, we got a real fucking good life ahead of us.” I smiled. “We just have to take it.”

Sia nestled closer to his side. “I don’t care what anyone thinks of us. Even my own brother. I want this . . . I want this so much it hurts.” She kissed his wounded ribs. “I need this . . . I never knew how much until we thought we’d lost you.” She lifted herself up on to her elbow. “Why does it matter what it looks like, or who it involves? If it’s love, we should grab it with both hands.” Her eyes lowered. “I have no parents. You’re alone too, Hush.” She kissed my fingers. “And you, Cowboy, are the light that chases away the deepest darkness within us when it begins to creep in.”

Hush was silent for so long, I thought he would argue. But then he looked at me. “I have to let this go,” he acknowledged, and I saw his face crumble. He ducked his head. “It’s suffocating. I can’t . . . I can’t breathe with it weighing so heavily on me.” When he looked up again, I knew what he wanted.

He needed revenge on those sick fucks that took away his family.

I nodded. He knew I was gonna be right by his side.

We lay back down in silence, until there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find Crow. He came into the room, and Sia got up from the bed. “I’m gonna take a bath,” she said.

“You tell him?” Crow asked Hush. Hush shook his head and then told me about Crow’s suspicions regarding Titus.

“Whatever you need,” I said to Crow. “Whatever it takes to bring that cunt to justice.”

Crow slapped me on the back. “So? When are you paying good ole Granddaddy a visit?”

I looked to Hush. He shuffled off the bed. I could see the anger and determination settling on his face. “Tonight,” Hush said. I nodded. “Then we get the others.”

Crow shook his head. “Nah, brother. I got them.” A spark lit in his eyes that only he ever carried. Never knew someone who got such a fucking buzz from killing as Crow . . . except maybe Flame. Those two together would be like something from a fucking slasher movie.

“They’re mine to take care of,” Hush argued.

“You get the puppet master. Leave his puppets to me,” Crow said. Hush shook his head. “We’re family, Hush.” Hush’s eyes widened and his lips parted. I don’t think in all the years we’d been with the Hangmen, he’d ever let himself truly feel like they were our family. Titus’s shit hadn’t helped. And now Ky was threatening our patches over Sia. But even though all that was a ball-ache, the Hangmen were our family. Hush hadn’t ever been alone. I’d always been there, but more, so had his brothers . . . brothers he had never let in.

It was time for him to start.

“You go on a murder spree and you risk getting caught.” Crow held up his cell. “I got reinforcements coming. You get Granddaddy. We’ll clean up.” He smiled the most fucked-up smile I’d ever seen. “Then Hades’ dice and me, we’ll go have us some fun . . .”

“Okay,” Hush agreed finally. I saw something, some never-before-seen expression, settle over his face. Acceptance. And maybe a bit of relief.

Crow got to his feet. “I’ll be waiting for your call.” He left the motel room, and Sia came out of the bathroom. Worry was written across her face. I knew she’d been listening.

“We need to go out for a while,” I stated. Sia nodded. Hush got off the bed and kissed Sia on the mouth. He threw on his cut, then I walked to Sia. Her eyes were pleading us to come back safe. “We’ll be back soon, cher,” I assured her and kissed her lips.

I opened the door, Hush following behind, when he stopped suddenly and turned to Sia. “I’m called Hush not because I’m quiet, but because I was a ‘hush’ baby. Nobody wanted me.” He smiled, but it was strained. “Except my parents. The rest of my family refused to acknowledge my very existence.”

Sia stayed rooted to the spot, but her eyes shone. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for letting me in.” Hush sighed, and I saw another brick from his high walls fall down to earth.

As we got in Crow’s truck, I knew that after tonight an entire section of wall would turn into rubble. Hush blew out a breath and then nodded. Taking that as my signal, I pulled out of the motel parking lot and headed for the Moreaus’.

Granddaddy Moreau had an appointment to keep with Hades.

 

*****

 

The gate to the grand estate was open as we killed the lights and slowly made our way down the road to the mansion. I kept my eyes peeled for groundsmen, security, whoever the fuck else they might have hired. But there was nothing. I could see Hush looking for the same thing. The brother kept checking his Glock and the knife in his boot, waiting for someone to come at us. Question us. Anything.

When we tucked the truck under the cover of some trees, the place seemingly a ghost town, I uttered a one-word explanation: “Crow.” Hush nodded, staring at the big white mansion. He blew out a breath. “You good?” I asked.

“She grew up here.” Hush pointed to the house. He shook his head. “How could she have been happy at our shack of a home?”

“Because she had you and your papa.” I looked at the white columns and wraparound porch. “I knew your granddaddy,” I said. I remembered the many dinners at this place. The stuffy attitudes, the racist talk . . . and how his grandmother was always silent. Hush had more in common with her than he might have known.

“You ready?” I asked, conscious about being here too long. Crow could only keep people away for so long. One call to the police and they’d be crawling all over this place in seconds. Hush’s opening of the truck door was all the answer I needed. He was limping, leaning to the side due to the pain from his ribs. But there was steely determination in his eyes. Hell, with the fire looking back at me, he could have passed for Hades himself.

I walked next to Hush as we climbed the steps and burst through the front door. The minute we walked through there, we weren’t Hush and Cowboy, we were Aubin and Valan, here to do what should have been done years ago.

The house looked like a museum as we walked through the hallways. Until we rounded the corner to the library . . . and found old Mr. Moreau sitting behind his desk. He looked startled when we filled up the doorway, standing side by side. His eyes widened. He tried to press something under his desk—an alarm maybe? But no sound came.

I had a fucking lot to thank Crow for.

I smiled and stepped forward. Hush was frozen to the spot. “Mr. Moreau.” I sat on the chair opposite him and kicked my feet up on the desk. “You remember me?”

He stared at me awhile, then his mouth dropped open. “Aubin Breaux?”

I tipped the front of my Stetson. “At your service.”

Then his eyes slammed to Hush, standing tall behind me. The old man swallowed. “And I’m the abomination,” Hush said coldly. He strutted forward to stand by my side.

I kept my eyes on Moreau’s hand, just in case he tried to go for his gun. As expected, his hand disappeared underneath the desk. I pulled out my gun and aimed it right at the fucker’s head. “Hands where I can see them, prick.” When he didn’t do as I demanded, I clicked off the safety. His hands flattened on the desk in an instant. “Val?” I called, giving Hush the floor.

Hush didn’t waste time. Just got right to the fucking point. “You ordered the death of my papa and me from your Klan friends.” Moreau paled, but the bastard kept his head high. He didn’t speak. He couldn’t deny it. “But you killed her instead. Killed them both for being in love.”

Moreau cracked, his jaw tensing. “She brought shame upon this family,” he hissed. “Never, in three hundred years, had this family been polluted, then she brings home him.” The look Moreau gave Hush was laced with disgust. “And then they had you.” He laughed. “She wasn’t even biologically mine, but she was the perfect Aryan and carried my name. She was ruined by that man you call a father.” He sat back in his seat. “You were meant to be there, not her. I wanted her away from your father’s influence, from you.” He shrugged. “But in hindsight, I realize it wouldn’t have helped.” A cold fucking glint of victory flared in his eyes. “I now count it as a happy mistake that she died too. The shame on the Moreau name died with her.”

One second his lips were moving. The next, a gunshot sounded and a bullet raced between his eyes. I swung my feet back to the floor as blood pooled along the desk. When I stood, Hush was staring down at his dead granddaddy. He let out a quick breath, then looked at me. His eyes were wide. I was about to speak when I heard a gasp from the doorway.

We both spun around to see an older woman with graying blond hair and blue eyes . . . eyes exactly like Hush’s. And like Hush, one of them was ringed with a bruise.

“Hey, Mrs. Moreau,” I greeted. She spared me a glance, but her eyes only wanted Hush. I felt my brother tense, and I knew what he was seeing. He was seeing his mother, as she would have been when she was older. Mrs. Moreau came into the room. Her walk was laborious, the result of her stroke years ago. Her mouth on one side tilted slightly down. But that didn’t stop her from getting to her grandson.

Hush’s hand, still holding the gun, shook. Slowly, he lowered it. Just as he did so, Mrs. Moreau’s hand moved to her mouth and a weak sob escaped from her throat. She stopped at Hush’s feet, looking up at him. She was a small woman; he towered over her. Tears tracked down her cheeks. By Hush’s reaction, I didn’t think he was far from breaking down himself.

“Valan?” she whispered, her Swedish tongue effortlessly wrapping around the name.

Hush’s mouth parted. He nodded. I looked at her bare arm and saw bruise after faded bruise. Looked like Moreau was even more of a cunt than we knew.

Mrs. Moreau’s hand fell from her mouth and moved to Hush’s cheek. Her hand trembled, as did her voice when she said, “You look just like her.” Her fingers walked to the side of his bruised eye. She didn’t even mention that my friend was battered and bruised. All she could see was Hush, and through him, her daughter.

“He took her from me,” she whispered, her voice cutting out. “He never told me whether you were alive or dead.” Her eyes squeezed shut. When they opened, she said, “I never cared.” Hush’s gaze widened. “I didn’t care who she married . . . I just wanted her to be happy.” She sobbed and turned away. When she’d got her shit together, she said, “And I never got to meet my lovely grandson.” She smiled, her hand still on Hush’s face, like she couldn’t take it away.

Hush was as still as a statue, until he lifted his hand and gently held her wrist. “Nice to meet you . . . Mormor.”

Mrs. Moreau fell apart on hearing those words and wrapped her arms around Hush. She looked tiny clinging to Hush’s waist. Hush’s eyes closed, then he hugged her back. His cheeks twitched, his lips tightened . . . then I saw a tear fall down his cheek. He held her tighter, and I could see he was struggling not to break down completely.

I moved to stand by the wall, keeping eyes on any movement from the house. I only looked back when Mrs. Moreau said, “I knew you’d come back one day. It was fate. One cannot do something so heinous and not have it come back on them.” I got the impression she was talking about more than the fire. She looked at her husband, and an ice-cold expression came over her face. “But you must go.” She ran her hand down Hush’s face. “An intruder came in, trying to get into our safe.” She righted her hair. “I was upstairs when he shot him. I was hiding, then came down to find him here, dead.”

Hush took a few shaky breaths, then nodded his approval. “We’d better go,” I urged. Hush couldn’t take his eyes off his grandmother. He was locked in the moment. “Val?”

He finally looked at me and nodded. As he moved past his grandmother, she said, “When all of this has blown over . . . I would very much like to see you.”

Hush stopped dead, took a deep breath, then turned around. “I’d like that.” My chest fucking cracked for him.

“And you must come back and see your mother,” she said. Hush stilled. More tears spilled from Mrs. Moreau’s eyes. “She’s in our garden.” Hush nodded, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to speak, knowing he was walking on the same ground as his mamma. As if that wasn’t enough for the brother to hear, she said, “And I will also take you to see your father.”

Hush turned slowly. “What?” he whispered in disbelief.

His grandmother stepped toward him. “He never knew,” she said confidently, gesturing to Moreau slumped on the desk. “But I paid the coroner behind his back. I had some savings he never knew about.” She smiled a sad smile. “I was saving in secret to go back to Sweden . . . hoping to find Aia, your father, and you first and take you all with me. To start a new life away from him. But . . .” She trailed off. We all knew the end. “When his remains were recovered, and my husband refused to give him a grave, I paid for one in secret.” Her breathing hitched and her voice grew hoarse. “I knew my daughter, and I knew she loved that man more than life itself. They should have been laid to rest together, but I couldn’t . . . he would’ve . . .”

Her head dropped, no doubt in shame, but Hush was across the room in no time, hugging the old woman to his chest. “Thank you,” he whispered, then said something to her in Swedish I didn’t understand. Mrs. Moreau sobbed and held her grandson close. “I am so sorry, Valan,” she cried. “I am so sorry he did what he did. I miss my girl . . . I miss her so much. Like half of my heart has been taken.” She pulled back and smiled a weak smile. “But seeing you today . . . how much you look like her . . . has given life to my soul.” She laughed. “You are so beautiful, gullunge.”

Eventually Hush pulled away, placing a kiss on his grandmother’s forehead. She sighed. “Now go. Leave town to wherever you live now. Get far away and don’t look back. I will not let you be punished for something that was very much deserved.”

I took hold of Hush’s elbow and led him from the house. We ran, Hush looking back to see his grandmother on the porch watching us go. We got back in the truck, and I quickly pulled onto the drive. Hush watched the house and his grandmother until they both faded from view.

“You good?” I asked as we joined the road that would lead us back to Sia.

Hush released a long exhale. I’d always thought that Hush had taken a deep inhale when his parents died. I guess I didn’t realize that until now, with the heavy sigh slipping from his lips, he had never breathed out.

Hush turned to me, a road light illuminating his face. “Let’s go get our Sia.” He smiled as he sat back against the seat. He stared at the road ahead. “I wanna go home.” But then he frowned, something clearly still on his mind. “What about your folks?”

Hatred, thick and pure, ran through my blood. “They’re dead to me,” I said and saw Hush close his eyes for a brief moment. When they were open again, I gave him a wink and my trademark wide smile, tipped the front of my Stetson, and said, “Let’s get home, mon ami . . . let’s get the motherfuck home.”