Ruthless Reign

Chapter 26

I watched the clock between filling magazines with bullets and sipping the still warm coffee on the side table.

Thirtyminutes.

AndI still had another twenty mags to fill while Hardin and Kaleb finished planning out our route to Damien’s place. The other Saints filling the spaces between us milled around, collecting their things.

They’dbeen taking up all the empty space in the smaller house. The couches. The floor. A couple of them cleared out the mangled shed and slept in there, too. For the last four days Damien had his men split between three locations.

Hisplace.

Hardinand Kaleb’s.

AndSaint’sAutobody shop.

We’dbeen sitting on our hands, waiting for Diesel and the ThornValleySaints to head our way before trying anything else. If things went to plan, they’d be on their way in a matter of hours. Moving out under cover of darkness. We’d do the same as we condensed down from three locations to two.

We’dbe stronger with higher numbers and less spread out there.

Kaleb, Hardin, Aodhán, and I would be going to Damien’s place, while the rest of the Saints here, about eight men, would head to the autobody shop to await Damien and Diesel’s orders.

Theywere all on edge, and I couldn’t blame them.

“No, honey, I need you to take Casey and go, don’t wait for me,” Mitch was saying to his wife on the phone. I could hear her frantic on the other end of the line. I swallowed, trying not to eavesdrop more than I was kind of forced to in the cramped quarters.

“What do you mean they said you can’t come?”

AnySaint families who were able to leave to stay with family out of state were ordered to do so by Damien, but there were still so so many who stayed behind. Whether because they didn’t have anywhere to go or because they didn’t think leaving would help them.

IfSéamasO’Sullivan could reach the Senator in Panama, then what good would hopping a state line do them if he decided to use the Saint families against them just like he had the first time Damien met him?

Theywouldn’t go to another safe house owned by the Saints, and I didn’t blame them. There was no way I would, either.

Butstill, I wished they would go. Just…anywhere else.

Afterthe explosion last week and Chase and Israel never returning from their scouting mission, these streets were the last place any of them should be.

Ifelt for Damien. Having to explain to two more families that their husband or father or brother or son wouldn’t be coming home. Apparently, Pope’s wife refused any help from Damien—financially or otherwise. And even called him a liar when he explained what Pope had done and what he’d been forced to do in turn.

“Who pissed in your coffee?”

Aodhánslipped onto the couch next to me, tossing an apple from hand to hand.

Igave him a heinous look and set back to filling mags. He wasn’t helping with virtually anything. Hardin and Kaleb wouldn’t let him help plan the route. The other Saints didn’t trust him to load mags or pack out the gear they brought. So, he’d just been floating.

Walkingaround in a mashup of Hardin and Kaleb’s clothes, eating everything. His appetite knew no bounds.

Icaught Hardin staring at me from across the room and looked away. I knew I told KalebI would make more of an effort to eat properly, but every time I took a bite out of anything I felt sick to my stomach. Kaleb didn’t push it, just offered me more water.

ButHardin?

Thefucker forced me to sit in a chair at the table and tried to glare and growl me into eating an entire meal in front of everyone. Fucking dickwad.

Iknew he was doing it because he was worried. Hell, so was I. I caught my reflection in the mirror after I showered this morning and that shit wasn’t pretty, but right now all I seemed capable of consuming was iced water and hot coffee and nothing else. It wasn’t like I was going to die.

Itwasn’t like before. Those first few years of high school when my dad had to have me hospitalized and even went so far as to hire a live-in nurse for me at BriarHall to cook for me and report back to him on eating habits.

Thiswasn’t about how I looked, now, though, this was different.

Thiswas about how Ifelt.

Iclenched my jaw, setting down the mag to pick up another, distracted as Aodhán pulled a switchblade from his pocket and flicked it open, carving off a slice of apple to set between his teeth.

Hecaught me watching and did some fancy fuckery with the blade as he chewed his bite of apple and then handed it to me hilt first. “Pretty thing, that,” he said, indicating the details on the handle. It looked like ivory bone or mother of pearl. Soft and worn from years of use, shining in the amber light from the lamp next to him.

“It was my Mum’s.”

Ididn’t take it, and Aodhán crooked a brow at me, setting his partially eaten apple down on the side table next to him. “You know how to use a blade, mo mhuirnín?”

“What does that mean?” I asked him. “Mo mhuirnín.” I tried to repeat the words, completely butchering them with my American accent.

Heshrugged. “You didn’t answer the question.”

Iwanted to tell him he wasn’t exactly answering mine, either, but I sighed and looked at the blade he was still holding out toward me. “No. Not really.”

I’dbeen practicing close range shooting in the yard with Hardin, Kaleb, and a few of the other Saints. Each one of them seemed to have some different tip or trick to offer me and it made learning a little quicker than I thought it might be trying to figure it all out on my own.

We’ddone a little hand to hand combat, too, but I was still atrocious at that.

Noblades, though.

“Come on, then, I’ll show you.”

Hedidn’t wait for me to reply before he was back on his feet, extending a hand to me.

“I have to finish filling these before we go.”

Aodhánfrowned at me and then his wicked green eyes flicked up to someone behind me. “Hey, Mitch, you about done on the phone? Mind finishing this up for the lady so I can teach her a thing or two about knife work?”

Isent Mitch a pained smile in apology at Aodhán’s presumptuous tone, but he was already dragging me to my feet and saying, “See, Mitch doesn’t mind.”

Mitchtook my seat on the couch, starting to finish the task Kaleb assigned me. He made no secret of being entertained by the idea of watching me struggle with a blade. I gave him a look, and he chuckled.

Ididn’t have to turn to know that Hardin and Kaleb were watching us as Aodhán pushed the coffee table out of the way and squared off against me with his switchblade.

Theyhadn’t let him have his gun back, but yesterday they finally gave him back this one weapon, and he seemed to be finding any excuse to draw it around the Saints. From the looks he got, I figured most of them thought he was doing it to be a dick, but I knew better.

Itwas conditioning.

Heneeded them to get used to seeing him with a weapon he didn’t intend to use against them. Start viewing him as a useful addition to the team instead of a threat living under their feet.

“Go on,” he taunted, an infectious grin pulling at his lips. “Attack me.”

“I’d rather not get stabbed today.”

Heleaned in conspiratorially, clearly in better spirits than he had been these last few days since his dad rained down scorched saints on our heads. “I think if I were going to stab you, I would’ve done it already mo mhuirnín.”

Irolled my eyes at him, suppressing the shiver that rolled down my spine.

“Come on, give it all you got. I won’t bite.”

Yeahfucking right.

Thesinful gleam in his verdant eyes begged to differ. So did the coy smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth.

Iwent for his knife hand with an amount of speed I was proud as fuck of, but he managed to wrap his opposite hand around my wrist before I got within a few inches. He used his hold on me to spin me back into him, knocking off my balance.

Myback met his chest, and he held the blade to my throat.

“Drop it!”

Hardin’svoice boomed in the room as Aodhán pressed the flat edge of the blade against the top of my right breast, the honed steel lifting and lowering with each of my heavy breaths.

Heremoved it, raising it up in a little peaceful wave at Hardin, who had his gun raised.

Aodhán, to his credit, didn’t seem at all fazed that Hardin’s murder stick was aimed directly at his head. “Just a little lesson, mate. Not going to hurt her.”

Hardin’sgaze darkened.

“I’m good,” I told him, maybe a little too harshly. I didn’t need him to protect me right now. Not from Aodhán.

…and maybe I was still a little pissed off about this morning.

“Let’s go again.” I nudged Aodhán. “Ignore him.”

ButAodhán didn’t ignore Hardin, he waited, holding his gaze until Hardin finally lowered his weapon. “One scratch and I’ll take the blade and the offending hand.”

Aodhánmade a so-so motion with his head, pursing his lips as he considered the threat. “Sounds fair.”

Fuckingmen.

Ididn’t wait for Aodhán to be ready this time. I rushed him while his attention was still on Hardin.

Heused my own momentum against him, his shoulder connecting with the hollow beneath my rib cage as he flipped me over him, somehow managing to toss me gently onto the carpet before he was on me, his body hovering inches over mine, that blade pressed lightly to my jugular.

Iground my teeth.

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

Ibatted his blade away and then his hand when he extended it to help me up.

Wewent on like that for another few rounds. Always winding up with that fucking blade pressed against some vital part of me.

We’ddrawn a crowd now. Mitch was through with the magazines and the others had most things packed up. I knew it was almost time to head out, but I was fucking determined to get that blade from him or at least hit him.

“Get him, Hawk,” Hardin called, distracting me, and I faltered, slipping on the rug when I moved to try to get Aodhán’s legs out from under him.

“Fuck,” I cursed. “This is pointless.”

Irubbed the sore spot on my hip as I got back to my feet, trying to hide the dizziness trying to take me right back to the floor. I needed some more water. More coffee. Something.

Myhead throbbed when I finally got sturdy, and I shook it, breathing deep through my nose until the pulsing stopped.

WhenI opened my eyes again, Aodhán had the blade held out to me once more. “Let’s try the other way, then. You should at least know how to use one if you can’t avoid one.”

Iwanted to argue. To tell him I was too tired. That we needed to get ready to go. ButIdid want to know how to use it. More than that, I felt like I needed to.

Itook the blade, testing the weight of it in my palm.

Aodhántook it by the tip, guiding the sharp point to his throat.

“Here is very effective,” he told me, then lowered the blade to his heart. “This is the quickest, but harder to hit than you might think.”

Aodhánlowered his fingers from the blade’s tip, but I kept the point of it there, resting against his heart.

“You feel that?” he asked in such a hushed tone that I wasn’t sure I heard him at first. “The rush? If you wanted, you could just push straight in, mo mhuirnín, and I’d be nothing but a pile of bones and blood at your feet.”

Mystomach fluttered, something aching and primal there twisting awake because Icould do that. IfI wanted to.

Itwasn’t the same as holding a gun. Guns scared me. They always had. Even with the training I’d gotten from the guys and some of the other Saints, there was still this repulsion I had to them.

Butthis switchblade—it wasn’t going to go off by accident. A ricochet might not hit some unintended target. IfI wanted to hurt Aodhán with this blade, I would need to do it with purpose. It would be my choice and would require force. Exertion. Effort.

Iswallowed and lowered the blade, considering the feel of it again.

Itfelt wrong in my hand and yet so so right.

“Your turn,” Aodhán said, tossing his hair away from his face. “Try to stab me.”

“I’m not going to stab you.”

“I agree. You won’t even come close. But humor me all the same.”

Prick.

Anidea took shape, and I clenched my teeth to keep from smiling. I went in for a sloppy strike, and Aodhán deftly dodged it with almost no effort at all. And just like I planned, my foot caught on the edge of the rug, and I started to topple forward, letting out a short, surprised gasp with the knife still in my hand.

Aodhánreached out for me, like I knew he would, and as his hands moved to stop my fall, I tossed the blade to my left hand and swung it upward.

Thesurprise in his eyes turned to pride as I pressed the blade to his throat at the exact moment he caught me in his arms.

“Oh shit,” I gasped, pulling the blade from his throat and stumbling back out of his embrace as a thin red line bloomed with a perfect crimson droplet of blood on the side of his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean?—”

Aodhántouched his throat with confusion in his stare, as if he hadn’t even felt the wound. He quirked a brow at me.

“Crafty,” he said with praise in his tone. “But that little trick will only work once.”

“Damien’s on his way,” Kaleb said, pocketing his phone after reading a message there. “Be ready.”

Iwent to hand the blade back to Aodhán with knots forming in my gut where a second ago there had been something completely different.

Aodhántook the blade and caught my wrist before I could turn away to grab my bag. “One last thing,” he said, spinning the blade between his fingers. “There are a few more places you should know about.”

“What?”

Aodhánspun me around and gripped my waist, pressing his thumb into the space just below my ribcage. His touch seared into me. “Here,” he whispered next to my ear. “You want to stab upward. It’s quick and effective and the opponent will die slow.”

Hereached lower, his fingers trailing down the outside of my hip before tapping a spot on my inner thigh, a few inches above my knee. “And here. The femoral artery. You don’t have to go deep, just a good slash and they’ll bleed out in minutes.”

Whywas listening to him talk about all the different ways to kill a man with this blade turning me on?

Icleared my throat, slipping from his grasp, turning to face him with a nod. My face felt hot and where the hell did I put my water bottle?

Aodhánfell back onto the couch, lifting his apple to carve another slice.

Heheld the piece out to me, and I didn’t even think as I took it from his fingers and folded myself onto the seat next to him as I put it in my mouth.

Iwas so thirsty, I needed something to quench it before I dried up like mummy sans sarcophagus.

Imoaned as the first burst of tarte apple flavor filled my mouth. BeforeI could even swallow, Aodhán was already holding out another slice to me, and I couldn’t take it fast enough.

Fuck. It was the best apple I’d ever tasted, hands down.

WhenI swallowed the last bite and looked up, it was to find Hardin and Kaleb openly staring at me from across the room. I stopped licking my fingers but couldn’t seem to stop myself from wondering if there were any more apples.

“Are there any more?”

Aodháncracked a lopsided grin that didn’t bother trying to hide his triumph at getting me to eat something.

Hehanded me the switchblade again. “You can carve the next one. And that’s yours now.”

Iglanced between him and the blade and shook my head. “No. It was your mom’s. I can’t keep it.”

“Just hold onto it for me then, would you?”

Ididn’t bother pointing out that if I did, he wouldn’t have any other weapon to use himself. From the look on his face as he got up to get me another apple, I could tell he wouldn’t be taking it back no matter what I said.

I’dgive it back later. Maybe slip it into his pocket when he wasn’t paying attention. It might make him feel better knowing I had a knife on me, but it brought me no peace at all to know that he would be unarmed in the meantime.

“Hey, who’s that with Dad?” Kaleb asked, drawing my attention as he looked out the front window.

Hardindidn’t reply, but by his twitchy fingers, I could tell it was no one he recognized, either.

Aodhánreturned with the second apple, but my appetite was long gone as I stood, keeping the blade out in case I might need it as Damien entered the house.

Irecognized the shape of him in an instant and quickly folded the blade back and pocketed it as if I’d been caught red handed with candy instead of a murder weapon.

“Dad?”

“Found him parked outside,” was all Damien said by way of explanation as he went over to Hardin and Kaleb to go over their route. As if he didn’t just drag a giant steaming pile of trauma shit into the house and drop it right at my feet.

“CanI have a word with you outside?”

Theman who masqueraded as my father for my entire life didn’t dare step more than one foot over the threshold.

Aodháneyed him warily, and even though Damien was deep in discussion with my guys, hunched over the table, I could feel all of their eyes flitting to me every few seconds.

Atleast all of the other Saints were too busy loading up now to notice anything.

“What are you doing here?”

Gregoryhad the audacity to look hurt at the question and my stomach had no right to turn and hollow with guilt.

Iwasn’t the guilty one here.

MaybeI should’ve called him back, but I wasn’t ready. Istill wasn’t ready.

“I’ve been trying to call for days, Rebecca. The real question is what the hell are you doing with these people?”

Hegot everyone’s attention with that biting remark, but no one said a damn thing and honestly? That was almost more terrifying than if they’d started yelling.

“I think you should go.”

“I’d like nothing more,” he said right back. “Get your things and we can be on our way.”

Myeyes pricked and I hated them for it. I fought to blink back the sting and lifted my chin. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Thedesperate worry in his eyes shifted and whatever I felt aching in my stomach evaporated in an instant as I was faced with a man I better recognized. Gregory the negotiator. Gregory, the winner.

“ForChrist’s sake, Rebecca, your roommate was just killed. Would you like to be next? Hang around these people a few days longer and I’ll be picking out your casket instead of paying off that boy’s family to erase your name from any statements.”

Hismention of Toby is a slap to the face, and I feel my jaw crack with the effort of holding back a thousand curses I’d rather be spitting at his feet.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t have to. You’remy daughter.”

“I’m not. I never have been.”

Gregory’seyes slid to Damien across the room and back to me. As much an admission as I would ever get.

“What did you tell her?” Gregory growled between clenched teeth at Damien’s back.

“Only the truth. And only because it became necessary,” he said as he turned around, his steely gaze shifting to me. “You’re welcome to leave with him if you choose.”

“Fucking bastard,” Gregory muttered.

Damienstiffened but didn’t retaliate.

“But you’ll need to decide now. We have to leave. I can’t linger here much longer.”

“This isn’t her choice!” Gregory shouted, his throaty voice echoing in the room. “Rebecca, get your things, now.”

Myskin bristled at the command and a low, poisonous laugh came from Aodhán on the couch beside me as he moved to rise to his feet, his green eyes alighting on Gregory as if he were a wolf eyeing a rabbit.

“Don’t,” I blurted, and Aodhán paused, but held his position beside me. “It isn’t worth it.”

“Might be. Only one way to find out.”

“Aodhán,” I hissed.

“Who’s this?”

“Want me to get rid of him?” Kaleb offered, and Gregory balked but had the presence of mind to look a little concerned for his own security as Kaleb cracked his knuckles and Hardin rolled his neck and shoulders.

“No. He’s going to leave like I asked him to.”

Gregory’sjaw tightened. “Unbelievable,” he muttered.

Iwalked closer to him even though every step felt strained. I didn’t want the others overhearing the rest of what I needed to say but he needed to hear it before he left. “It’s my choice,” I told him. “Mine. Not yours.”

Hislips pressed into a thin line that to anyone else might’ve looked derisive, but I could see the emotion he was trying to hide in his stare. He never knew how to let go. He never let me take the reins. I always, always had to take them for myself and usually that was more trouble than it was worth.

Gregorydid what he did because he thought it was the right thing, but even things that come from a good place can be bad in the end.

“I need to see this through.”

“You could get hurt.”

“I know.”

Ididn’t tell him that I already was. Most of the bruising had faded, but I could see his eyes lingering on the still healing cut on my cheek. It was a pale pink line now, but still unmistakable.

Hedidn’t ask how I got it, but he lifted his hand to trace it with his thumb, jaw clenching and unclenching. “You don’t belong here.”

“That’s not for you to say.”

Istepped just far enough back that his hand dropped.

“You can’t ask me to leave you here with these people.”

“Then let me ask you for something else.”

Hisbrows drew together. “Their families. Some of them didn’t have anywhere to go. You have real estate out of town.”

Andhe bought out that security firm last year. He could shelter them and guard them until this was over.

“You’re not seriously suggesting?—”

“Mom would do it if she were here.”

Hislips parted and for one earth shattering second, I thought he might hit me from the shock and rage and betrayal in his expression. But then it was gone as fast as it came, and I stood taller.

“You know she would,” I pushed. “Help them, and I’ll do whatever you want.”

Heopened his mouth to barter, but I held up my hand to silence him. “Exceptleave. I already told you, I’m staying.”

“Dinner,” he said after a minute of thought. “The first Friday of every month.”

Ifrowned and the ugly, stiff thing that’d been growing up my spine softened, and I sagged.

“Done. Damien, can you get word to the remaining families that safe shelter is available to them. My dad will organize transport and security.”

Thefew Saints in the room stopped what they were doing, looking at Gregory differently than they had when he first arrived.

“Who is this guy?” Mitch asked from behind me.

“He’s the man who raised me,” I replied. “But his properties won’t even be on the Sons’ radar. If we can move your family quickly and quietly, he’ll keep them safe until this is all over.”

“For real?”

Gregorylooked between me and Mitch, giving the Saint a terse nod. “I’ll do everything I can to shelter your people for as long as I’m able to.”

Ididn’t miss the look he gave me. Theyou-owe-me look that I knew meant that if I was even a minute late for any of our monthly dinners, I’d never hear the end of it.

Mitchhad his phone out and was dialing his wife again within seconds.

Damiencrossed the floor and extended his hand to Gregory.

Gregoryonly looked at it, disgust written in his features. “As a favor to my daughter, St. Vincent, I’ll shelter your people, but that doesn’t make us friendly.”

Damiendropped his hand. “Understood. I’ll leave it to Mitch to coordinate the details with you then. Mitch.”

Mitchnodded.

Mydad had me wrapped up in a tight squeeze before I saw it coming, his signature PacoRabone scent heavy in my nose. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Be safe, bug.”

Mythroat felt thick at the nickname he hadn’t used since I was in middle school. It was what Mom used to call me, too.

Andthen he was gone as quickly as he came, leaving me feeling both free and trapped.

Guiltyand shameless.