CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Bracken

SINGLE MISS RETURNING TO THE clubhouse without my brother, my twin, pissed me off. Sending him off to the medic, Josie, I left and rode as fast as I could to the chapel on the hill.

Scarlet insisted on coming with me, hoping that the two of us could talk some sense into Kyden. I assumed his pious ass would call the authorities, involving the police. That’s the last thing the big bastard should do. He should know by now that I’d always welcome him back with open arms. Nothing he could ever do would stop me from bringing his ass home.

The ride over was a little longer than I wanted, seeing we had to detour around the murder scene, but I was damn fucking proud of Kyden. Strike had returned. Exceptionally, Kyden had returned more elegantly than I could’ve imagined.

Parking the bike, I walk to his tiny fucking shack at the back of the chapel and find the door unlocked. No real surprise, but the lack of activity around the chapel is. SM had warned me that Kyden had dismissed everyone and emptied out the parish, but the place is deathly quiet. Walking in, there’s was no trace of him.

“Where is he? Fuck. What the hell did you do, brother?”

Stepping around me, Scarlet ventures directly to the hearth. Lying there are four letters neatly addressed. “Here, this is for you.” Handing me the one, I stare at it.

His handwriting was always neat. I touch my name on the front, as it was written with love and care. Peeling it open, I read the contents. Every word spews bullshit and rhetoric about family, honor, and obligation to the church.

Reaching the end, I’m positive that he’s done something stupid. Looking to Scarlet as she reads hers, the same is apparent in the way tears stream down her face.

Without waiting to hear what she’s about to say, I run out of his residence as fast as humanly possible to the chapel. Reaching the back door, I find it locked tighter than a virgin’s pussy. Tugging on it a few good times, it doesn’t budge.

“Fuck! Kyden, open this goddamn door!”

With no answer, I unholster my piece and shoot the lock a good ten times before the strong wood releases its hold. Shouldering it again and again, it finally gives.

“Kyden! Where the fuck are you!” I run through the rear and into the main room. My heart pounds. My need to find him is so strong, I forget to breathe.

Seeing the mess he’s made, everything else falls away. “No! Don’t do this to me. No! Kyden, no, no!”

Hitting the stairs, I take them two or more at a time, reaching the top as fast as I can. Coming upon the tight bindings that hold him in place, I yank with all my might. A gut-wrenching scream fills the air and I know that Scarlet has joined me in this macabre moment. Her sadness pales in comparison to mine.

“Help me! Please.” My voice booms off the walls as I wrench as hard as I can. Slowly inching him back, it’s not enough. Fuck it.

“Scarlet, I’m cutting these. Help guide him down,” I yell as I attempt to work him free. Fucking asshole made sure it was secure, tying it off at least three times on the sturdy benches. With his added weight, nothing moves, so I go for the gun again. “Come here. I need you up here now!” Her feet bound off the stairs, clicking fast. “Take this and shoot the ropes. I’ll catch him.”

Nodding her understanding, she wipes the tears away from her face. “Fucking make it count, Scarlet.” Handing her my pistol, there’s determination in her look. I know she won’t fucking fail me. Running down, narrowly hitting any of the risers, I position myself below him. “Now, Scarlet! Now!”

The crack of the gun popping off shots rings through the empty hall as pieces of the wood rain down. My brother’s body falls limply into my arms, and it takes a great deal of strength to cradle him. Tearing the noose off his neck, I check for a pulse. It’s awfully weak. “Call the fucking ambo! Get one here now, Scarlet.”

“Got it!” she yells, running to my side. Tossing the gun to the ground, Scarlet starts to dial 911. Hearing her walk away to talk to them, I concentrate on Kyden.

“Don’t you dare fucking die on me. You can’t. You’re my other half.” I talk to him in a low tone. “I’ll close up shop. Just fucking live for me.” Inspecting the cuts on his arms and the etched “sins” on his chest, I tear off my cut. Stripping off my T-shirt, I tear it apart with my knife that I always carry and continue to talk to him. “Do you remember when we used to go to the park? You were always the vindictive one. If I pushed too hard, you did it slowly. If I tried to bounce you on the seesaw, you’d refuse to go back on it for weeks, knowing full well it was my favorite.”

Tying the shirt strips around his arms to staunch the blood, I think of all the things I’d rather lose than him. Losing my other half would be giving up the remaining part of my soul. I have very little left of it that hasn’t been tainted, but he’s the reason it’s there. Without him, the devils will run free. The demons that enjoy blood and retribution will be dealing it out in spades.

“Don’t leave me, Ky. You keep me sane.”

Hearing the ambulance screaming in the distance, getting closer and closer, I hold my brother tight. Tears that have never once left my eyes now flow in massive streams as I think of living without him. His good soul. His free spirit.

Coming back into the chapel, Scarlet tells me softly, “The ambulance should be pulling around the corner. What do you want me to tell them?”

“Tell them nothing. This is Bow business.” Looking at her, I can see it. She’s only ever loved him. I knew that using her to get what I wanted the other night was wrong, but I thought it would sway him. I was wrong. “Go home, Scarlet.”

“But, don’t—”

Stroking Kyden’s hair away from his face, I say, “No. It’s mine now to fix.”

She walks closer. “Don’t leave, Kyden. We’re nothing without you. We’re tortured souls without you.”

She couldn’t be more correct. Looking me in the eye, fearing me like she should right now, Scarlet turns and leaves out the back of the chapel, just as the front doors open.

The sound of feet traipsing harshly across the front entrance alerts me that they’ve entered.

“Over here!” It’s not who I thought or expected to see. Both men are wearing their cuts, grinning darkly. “What are you doing here?” But I already know full well why they’re here.

“Time to pay up. The Horsemen required due payment.” Holding out their guns, both bastards aim at me and my brother.

With quick succession, I feel the bullets rain down, entering my chest. Stopping to holster their guns, they smile and turn away, thinking it’s over. Reaching for my piece, I know the most I have are two bullets left. Aiming, I hit both square in the chest. Teetering for a second, they look surprised, shocked at the outcome before falling face-first to the floor.

As the shock starts to settle in, I know that I’m about to join my brother if the real attendants don’t show soon. “Keep the gates open for me, brother. Hell has no idea what it’s in for with us.” Breathing weakly, worrying about keeping him alive—the better of us—I laugh at the circumstances. Looking at the two arrows lodged in the wood above, I know he needed one last strike. The second shot struck straight through the first, splitting it down the center. One arrow, two pieces. One Devil’s Guide and two sons. A matched set to lose their lives in this church.

Kind of ironic.

Using the last of my strength, I say, “I love you, brother. I’ll see you in death. Blessed is the arrow that strikes true.”