Chapter 49 We’re Only Human
We’re Only Human
PREACHER
MOOSE JAW, SASKATCHEWAN
I’ve always been good at being patient.
Waiting for the right moment to strike.
Knowing when to back off before I pursue again.
But my nerves crackle and pop like fraying wires, my fingers tapping anxiously against the big wooden table.
Outside, they’re drinking and mourning their dead.
Likely more of their own lives lost than they’ve seen in quite some time.
Titus has a private clinic out back behind his club.
He pays a doctor in cash to keep his boys out of hospital records, which in turn keeps them out of prison.
Mostly, the doctor patches up bullet wounds, but she said she had connections to some shelters, people who could look after the girls without the police getting directly involved.
I sigh, taking another pull from the whiskey bottle. It tastes like battery acid, and it stings like a motherfucker. I’m pretty sure they distill this shit themselves.
Raphael went to get an update on Ripley and Wren from one of the nurses while I stayed behind, trying to calm the perpetual anxious-gnawing at the back of my neck. If I lose her for good, I think I’ll put a gun in my mouth; there’s no point in living in this world if she’s not right beside me.
It’s hard to keep my mind from running out of control. Usually, in a crisis, I’m cool as a cucumber, easily seeing through the panic and the bullshit, but right now? All I want is to hold that woman in my arms again.
That ring is still on her finger, right where I left it when I found her lying in that parking lot, and when she wakes up, I intend to follow through on its implicit promise: a big wedding, a beautiful honeymoon… Somewhere gorgeous, like France or Greece.
The door creaks, catching my attention in time to see Titus lumber inside with a beer clutched in his fist. While the rest of his men are openly mourning their dead, he’s been the same stoic leader since the moment I first walked in here.
I couldn’t read him if I tried.
“Your girls cost us a lot tonight. Seven of my best.”
“I’ll pay you,” I grumble, taking another swig of whiskey. “I’m good for it.”
“Yeah, after seeing how hard you fought back there, I believe you.”
Titus pulls up a chair, easing himself into it with a grunt.
I was more than a little surprised when he said he was coming with us, and I half-expected him to just wait back with the trucks, but he’s covered in dried blood and fresh bruises, just like the rest of us.
He did more than his fair share of killing tonight.
“The boys and I were talkin’ outside… we’re going to take credit for the slaughter at the prison.” He exhales. “Your brother gave us that cop’s phone, so if we turn that in, they’ll never touch us again.”
I say nothing, just a quick nod to let him know I’ve heard him. Over the years, I’ve learned that silence is the key to getting anyone to tell you anything.
Well, maybe second to pulling their teeth out.
“He said that you two do very important work.” Titus leans back in his chair. “That true?”
“Raph told you that?”
He’s always been hell-bent on keeping things a secret. He never wanted outside help, always complaining about people who stick their noses where they don’t belong. I think that’s why he hated Ripley so much when she showed up.
We were safe.
Protected.
And she upended all of that.
“Yeah, apparently you get a little whiskey into that boy and his lips loosen up real quick. Or maybe this whole thing with Wren means he’s not thinking clearly. Either way, he’s spillin’ a whole lot of secrets.”
“Is that so?”
The events of the last few days will only make Raphael more protective of Wren. More possessive. He’ll keep his distance if that’s what she wants, but after all of this? He’ll never stop keeping tabs on her.
“Straight from the horse’s mouth.” Titus chuckles, clearing his throat. “So, all that in mind, I’d like to propose a deal. We send you some names from time to time, you do your thing, and we take a tiny cut of the profits. Call it a… symbiotic relationship.”
I raise a brow.
“Symbiotic, huh?”
“That’s right. You like to cut bad men up into tiny pieces, and I like money.”
“How much?”
“Let’s say… ten percent?”
I’d be lying if I said I was happy, but I suppose it’s a necessary evil. We knew going in how men like Titus operate: you ask them for a favor, and you’re rarely let off scot-free even after the agreed upon payment.
“So, you’re saying we’d work for you?”
“What I’m saying is we’d be a client, and clients don’t have any say on how a business gets run.
” He sighs, taking a big sip of his whiskey.
“Look, you got a real I don’t fuck with you, you don’t fuck with me vibe, and I respect that shit, but you know fifty grand ain’t gonna bring my men back. They were family, you understand?”
“Sure.” I shrug, barely paying him any mind. “So long as it’s fine with the brains of the operation, it’s fine with me.”
Raph’s not going to be happy about this, but I suppose he only has himself to blame.
For me, as long as the cops stay the hell away from the ranch, I’ll be happy.
The business was Raphael’s idea in the first place, after all.
Said there was nothing more pathetic than a broke, unemployed serial killer.
Titus leans over, slapping me on the shoulder before raising his drink.
“That’s what I like to hear. To new business ventures.”
We clink glasses, draining what’s left of our drinks just in time for Raphael to burst into the room, his eyes as wide as saucers.
“Doctor says she needs us.”
I nod to Titus, who dismisses us both with a wave.
Raphael leads me out the back door, into the quiet warmth of the night.
The sound of our boots crunching against the gravel punctuates the silence, accompanied by the slightest hint of crickets in the distance.
He looks shaken, almost hollowed out from everything we’ve gone through, but there’s a hope in his eyes that I’m more than ready to latch onto.
“You told Titus about the business.”
He lets out a sigh, nodding his head.
“Apparently worrying makes me run my mouth. Stupid, huh?”
I shrug
“We’re only human.”
“Thing is, this shit’s a lot for me to run on my own, and as much as I don’t like him, I could use some help in the logistics department.”
“So, you’re finally willing to give up a little bit of control?”
“Look, you’re the one who started us down this road when you brought Ripley into this damn mess.
” He groans, like the mere thought of his perfect little system being altered gives him physical pain.
“But, if I’m connected to him, I can keep tabs on Wren a whole lot easier.
He said he’s gonna talk to her about his club absorbing hers, consolidating power and all that. ”
I smirk, saying nothing as Raphael stops at the door and presses a small white button. That’s his smoking gun: if Wren weren’t in the picture, he’d have told Titus to go fuck himself.
“Name?” A voice asks through the intercom.
“Raphael and Preacher. We’re here for Ripley and Wren.”
There’s a loud buzzing noise and we make our way inside.
It’s definitely not what I expected from something so closely connected to Titus’s dive of a bar.
Everything is so damn clean that I almost feel guilty for tracking my dirty boots inside.
The doctor’s already waiting for us at the end of the hall.
She’s young, with dark hair, glasses, and a stethoscope right out of a TV show draped around her neck.
“How are they?”
She blows out an exhausted breath, running a hand through her hair. I can’t tell if the expression on her face is bad news or if she’s just completely burnt out from so many patients.
“Well, they’re both damn lucky to be alive considering everything they’ve been through.
I had to extract a bullet from one, and luckily we managed to avoid sepsis.
” She takes off her glasses, shaking her head.
“The other patient’s stab wound didn’t do as much damage as it could have, though she may have trouble walking for a while.
None of that’s even considering their general condition.
I don’t know how much longer they would have lasted in that place. ”
The doctor leads us to a small room, gently ushering us inside. Ripley looks shockingly pale, hooked up to all kinds of tubes and IVs, and Wren lays in a bed opposite her, propped up on some pillows.
“They’re both pretty loopy from the painkillers, but they’ll be able to talk for a little while. Just try not to take it personally if one of them dozes off mid-conversation.”
The doctor pats me on the shoulder, heading for the door as Raphael takes a seat next to Wren.
I grab my own chair and carry it over Ripley’s bed, intent to hunker down for the long haul.
In all the chaos and confusion of the raid, I didn’t get a chance to really see all the damage he’d done to her.
She looks so small now, her skin mottled with dark purple-and-red bruises.
There are stitches in her forehead, above her eye, and in her bottom lip, and my heart twists in my chest as I lean down to kiss her.
I don’t just love her, I need her the way I need my heart to keep beating. Before her, I didn’t have much to live for other than my dogs and the business, but now? I’m not leaving this room until she’s cleared to come home.
I give her hand a squeeze, my heart skipping a few beats when I notice that her finger is barren. I glance around in a panic, but thankfully find her engagement ring sitting on the table next to her bed. I pick it up and gingerly slip it back on.
Still a perfect fit.
And then Ripley’s eyelids flutter open with a smile.
“Welcome back, rabbit.”
“Oh wow, am I in heaven?” She croaks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I shake my head, stroking her cheek gently as I struggle to find a spot without a bruise.
“Unfortunately, you’re stuck down here with me.”
“Oh, thank God,” she sighs. “Pretty sure they wouldn’t let me in, but I was scared for a second. They don’t even let you kill people up there, you know.”
I let out another laugh, kissing her knuckles. I may never forgive myself for not being there to protect her, but I’m content to spend the rest of my life making up for it.
They say it takes seven years for every cell in the human body to replace itself. In some ways it’ll be like she never went through this brutality, but we all know scars like that don’t really fade.
“I’ve been thinking… I wanna take you away for a while. Maybe Europe?”
Ripley smiles. It’s pained, but it’s real, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she marvels at the ring on her finger.
“That sounds lovely, but there’s something I want to do first.”
“Of course. Anything.”
She nods to herself, glancing over at Wren on the other side of the room.
“Find my father, Preacher. Help me do what I should have done all those years ago.”