Chapter Thirty-Six
In which secrets are shared and we find out why Sloan's stepfather wins the Complete Bastard of the Year Award.
Ethan…
I’m lying on the bed, my arm behind my head, watching my wife sleep, sprawled across me. She dinna remember this I know, but when we had to camp in the mountains, she’d fuss around in her sleep on the pine needle bed and eventually roll on top of me, using me as her mattress. Even here on the most comfortable mattress I’ve found, she still prefers to sleep on me.
I canna complain, the feel of her soft little body against mine is calming, even if her slightest move wakes me. I’d never had women stay over, I preferred to go to theirs or a hotel so I could leave.
My nightmares are ugly, and detailed. More than once I’d woken up smashing my fist into the wall or attempting to strangle my pillow. With Sloan in my bed, I dinna dream. Or, at least I dinna remember them.
Today’s not gonna be pleasant. I must confront my wife about her brother’s whereabouts and why he needs medical treatment. One of our best hackers, Morrie, called me yesterday. That fecker Gavin tried to put out a new contract on Sloan, angry that everyone else pulled out once word of our marriage got around. But that dinna means he’s still not searching for her brother, which means we need to retrieve him and the nurse - Carmella, I believe - before he does.
Sloan is violently protective of him. I want her to trust me, to tell me willingly. But if she dinna, I have to scare the shite out of her, which could drive her away. I keep my promises, I will protect her brother. She just needs to tell me the whole story first.
And my wife is gonna hate that.
She’s sleeping heavily because once we made it back to the apartment, we fucked again. On the kitchen counter. Leaning against the railing on the terrace. In the shower. I canna get enough of her.
“Are you staring at me like a creep?” Sloan mumbles, still face down on my chest.
“Are ya still rolling on top of me when ya sleep like I’m your own personal mattress, then?”
Her head pops up like a prairie dog. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you not like that?”
She tries to slide off me and I wrap my arm around her waist, holding her firmly to me. “I love it, wife. I may be your mattress but ya are my blanket. So it evens out, aye?”
Her finger traces along the Scottish dagger on my arm. “How did you get this scar?”
The dagger is wreathed with thistles and our clan’s crest. The way it’s inked makes it look like it’s stabbing into my arm, covering the long and puckered scar there.
“One of my jobs dinna go as planned. I was young, new to this, and too stupidly confident. The target had six bodyguards, not two. I thought I’d taken them all down, but one jumped me before I could take out the arsehole I was there for. He shoved his stiletto into my arm, pushing it under my skin up to my elbow. I had to kill him before I could pull the blade out.”
Her finger pauses before stroking over the scar. “Did you get your target?”
“Aye. He left his men to die for him, the cowardly prick.”
“What did he do?” she asks, “I mean, why was there a contract out on him?”
My hand curls into a fist before I can stop it. “He liked to kidnap girls and sell them in his brothels. Young ones. There was a mom in London, she’d already lost her husband, she wouldn’t give up on her girl. She spent every penny she had, looking for her. She finally approached us, offering her wedding ring as payment to get her bairn back.”
“That’s horrible!” Sloan looks heartbroken. “So, did you find the girl? Did you save her?”
“Aye, along with twelve other girls, most of ‘em underage. Once we got ‘em out, I blew up the fecking place with a load of C-4 and then burned down his shite mansion. I returned Casey to her ma along with her wedding ring. She works in one of our legitimate shipping offices now.”
“How’s Casey doing?”
“Last time I checked on her, she was better,” I say. “She finished school, she’s datin’ a nice lad.”
“Moms don’t give up,” Sloan says sadly. “They just don’t.”
“Your ma was like that, then?” I’m stroking her hair, nice and slow, the way she likes it. The way that comforts her.
“She was amazing,” she agrees, “I know she loved us. But I can’t understand why she married that evil fuck. I never thought she loved him. But she still legally changed our last names to Masters. It was the last bit of my father and Gavin even took that away.”
She put her head back down on my chest, resting her cheek against my heart.
“I’m sorry ya lost your Mum and Da. Taking responsibility for your brother must have felt overwhelming, aye?”
She’s resolutely silent and I rub my eyes. I’d shared that story with her to let her know I trusted her. It dinna look like she’s gonna give that trust back.
“I know ya gave up your life to protect your brother.” She tenses, like she’s about to get off me and I wrap my arms around her. “Tell me what Gavin did to him.” She starts wiggling, trying to make me let go of her, but with my arms around her like this, she’s not going anywhere.
Keeping her face stubbornly turned from me, she says, “I want to get up.”
I almost let her go. I almost do, and then I see my ring on her finger and I tighten my grip, just slightly. “Your people are now my people, lass. I will protect them. But ya have to talk to me.”
“They’re… I can’t do this, I just-”
“Ya talked about your brother all the time while you were feverish. How that fecking Gavin hurt him. Ya said ya were sorry-”
“Shut up! You don’t get to talk to me like that! You don’t-”
“I know exactly what it’s like to protect my family, even when it looks like I won’t live through it,” I say calmly. “And even so, I’d do it all over again, because that’s what ya do for family. But ya dinna have to do it all by yourself anymore. Ya have a family here, too. A family that will do anything to protect ya.”
“You don’t make any sense!” Sloan screams, slapping at my shoulders. “Why the fuck would you want to get involved! I was a job, remember? Just a job! I’m not your next DIY project! I don’t need saving!”
There she is, the furious little firecracker who revs herself up with rage to distance herself, to keep moving.
“Ya know, you’re like a shark,” I muse, resting my chin on the top of her head. “Always moving, always in motion like you’re scared that somethin’ will catch up with ya if ya stop.”
She tries to pull away again, then sags in my arms.
“Tell me what Gavin did, and I will kill him. He will never touch you or Nate again.”
“He poisoned him.” Her violet eyes are flat, and dull. “Nate started gaining a lot of weight about two years ago when he was sixteen. He’d have these terrible mood swings but Mom and I just thought he was going through that general asshole stage all teenagers have, like maybe the weight gain was hormonal. I almost started liking Gavin then because he’d bring Nate these protein shakes, telling him that the shakes would build muscle. He knew how sensitive Nate was about the weight gain.”
Shifting slightly, she rests her hip against my thigh. She must still be sore from last night. Ya sick bastard. She’s spillin’ her guts and you’re fighting down a stonner?
“It was Carmella who figured it out,” she says, staring blankly out the window. “Mom hired her as a personal nurse when Nate got worse. Carmella had worked in a sports rehab clinic and there were ‘roided up dudes everywhere. Always popping steroids to bulk up. One of them went into cardiac arrest and the doctor said it was due to the guy taking prednisone for so long and then stopping. I guess it triggers an adrenal crisis.
“Carmella swapped out one of Gavin’s ‘special shakes’ and took his to a lab to be analyzed. Sure enough, he’d been poisoning my…” A sob breaks loose and I rub her back until she can continue. “He’d enjoyed it, too. I’d come home to see him and Nate talking and when Nate would be having one of his meltdowns, he’d watch him so closely…”
She shudders. “Gavin would watch Nate scream and throw shit, he never got upset, like he did with everything else. Looking back, I can see that he was enjoying it, that watching Nate go to pieces was rewarding for him.”
“We took Nate to a doctor when Gavin was out of town and got him tested. It was terrifying. He said that if Nate had had any kind of high-stress event, he would have died. I think that’s why Gavin went out of town. No more prednisone shakes. The drugs would be out of Nate’s system by the time he went into cardiac arrest. He’d have a perfect alibi, traveling for business,” she spat.
“How did the car accident on New Year’s Eve that ya didn’t think was an accident come into play?” I keep my voice level and calm.
“We realized Gavin was ready to kill all of us,” she laughed bitterly. “He came home with presents for everyone, a huge bouquet of roses for Mom. The next day, Carmella got word that the doctor who examined Nate had been killed the night before. Someone shot him and set his office on fire.”
I run my fingers through her hair, nice and slow.
“That’s when Mom took us to see her friend, a hotshot attorney back in Boston. He met us on New Year’s Eve so we’d all have an excuse to be out of the house. Gavin was at one of his douchey tech-bro’s parties. Martin - the attorney - set up all the evidence to be delivered to his friend, he was a detective for the Boston Police. He also started the divorce paperwork and even changed Mom’s will. All three of us were singing on the way home. We were going to pack up and leave while he was out.
“The truck that hit us came barreling through a red light. He didn’t slow down at all, he floored it.”
Sloan…
Eighteen months ago…
My eyes opened and my face was wet. I was covered in blood and broken glass. Mom- oh, god Mom was lying half on top of me, the blood was from her. Her pretty blue eyes were open but she was gone. Something was shoved through her chest. Part of the steering column, or…
There were footsteps outside, loud on the wet concrete. No one else was on the street. I heard the low rumbling of a truck engine and the feel of my heartbeat, pounding in my ears.
He’s checking. Play dead. That shouldn’t be hard.
The footsteps stopped by my Mom’s shattered door and he looked in. My eyes were closed, I prayed that he couldn’t see my pulse thundering in my neck. There was a low grunt and he walked around the other side, crouching down to look in the back seat. I could hear the broken glass grinding under his boots and he was reaching in when there was a shout.
“Hey! Are you okay? I’ll call the police.”
Don’t shoot whoever it is, I thought, please don’t kill anyone else.
The sound of footsteps running away from the car. More running toward us.
“Oh, shit! Shit man! Are you okay?” The voice was high and terrified but I didn’t dare move. What if the other man came back? The footsteps move away again.
“911 what is your emergency?”
“There was an accident! Some asshole hit a car with his truck and ran off. I think they’re all dead. I’m on…”
Nate! Nate, fuck, where was Nate? Fuck!
Sobbing, I tried to push Mom off me gently, twisting in my seatbelt to look in the back. Nate was moaning, but he was alive.
“I begged the paramedics to call Carmella. She got us checked out and convinced them not to take us to the hospital.”
Ethan’s big hand is in my hair, smoothing it softly. Amazing that a man whose hands are capable of such violence can be so gentle.
“How did ya get split up from Nate and Carmella?” His voice is calm, the kind of soothing tone I’d heard from a stable hand gentling horses at my summer camp.
“I sent them away that night. Bought plane tickets to six different places. They hopped from Boston to Philadelphia, took a bus to Chicago… I stayed behind, I was trying to collect all the jewelry and money I could find in the house, but Gavin came home before I could get out.”
“What happened?” There’s the slightest edge to his tone now, but his hand is still in my hair.
“He had his right-hand man - Tony, a complete fucking asshole who did his dirty work - hold me down while he beat me up. He was so pissed that Nate got away. I couldn’t stop laughing. They locked me in my room, which was their mistake. I’d gotten out of that room a million times when I was younger and I’d sneak out to parties. There’s a nice, sturdy trellis right outside the window.”
“Aye,” he rumbles, “I was gonna kill him but now I’ll take my time. I dinna understand, why was he so set on killing Nate?”
I shift my weight to my other hip. Apparently, describing the most horrible time in my life takes a backseat to just how sore I am right now.
“My dad - my real dad - was a smart man. He had the bulk of his wealth put into an unbreakable trust for Nate and me. Gavin must have found that out after he ran through all of Mom’s money. If he killed Nate and me, the money reverted to Mom. If all of us were dead, well, it was Gavin’s. He must have gotten desperate at the end and decided to just off us all. He must have started with Nate because he hated that my brother looks just like our dad.
“I didn’t know who the hell to trust. I’d been putting together all the sick shit he was up to, like the arms dealing. I didn’t know who he owned on the police force, and that poor lawyer, Gavin had him killed the next day and all the evidence vanished from his office. So, I kept running. Nate started chelation to get all the prednisone out of his system, it’s slow as hell. I had to switch him to somewhere new every few months to keep ahead of Gavin.
“I was so desperate that night of the auction. Nate’s treatments were getting more expensive and I just… it was one night, right?”
Rubbing my wet cheeks, I let out a watery sob. “I’ll bet you’re really regretting buying me that night, huh?”
He curls me into a ball, his arms wrapped around me and so warm. “It was the best decision of my entire life, my wife.”