Chapter Thirty
Macy
If there was any mercy in this universe, time would’ve sped up, done its thing and helped me forget about what I’d done.
But that wasn’t the way the world worked, at least not for people like me.
Oh no, I had to feel every slow fucking second as it ticked by.
My nerves were scraped raw and I was cold, so fucking cold, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be okay again.
It wasn’t just a chill, either. It was a bone-deep, teeth chattering cold that made it hard to breathe.
My hands and fingers felt as if they belonged to someone else.
Despite the warm evening, I was wrapped in an oversized hoodie that fell to my thighs, the sleeves swallowed my hands, but nothing warmed me. The leggings and wool socks gave me a false sense of security, but nothing could cure the cold.
After Drew put me in a hot shower and scrubbed the other guy’s blood off me, I still saw the faintest hint of red staining my skin and once he was gone, I spent another fifteen minutes scrubbing my skin until it hurt.
I still saw it. No matter how much soap I used and no matter how hot the water burned, I still saw the blood.
Someone else’s blood that I had spilled.
On purpose.
I wanted to stay in that shower forever, but the Steel Demons women had refused to let me spiral. Ellie and Chloe knocked on the door just as I finished pulling my hair into a messy ponytail and pulled me out of my solitude.
As soon as I settled into a chair, Raven shoved a double shot of whiskey into my hand like it was medicine. “Drink,” she ordered. “Trust me.”
Chloe tried to feed me fries at the same time. “Fries are literally the perfect food,” she said seriously. “Any time of day, but especially with whiskey.”
How I managed to laugh after what I’d done, I had no fucking clue. But there I was, lips tipped up into a genuine smile with a soft laugh that shook my entire body.
These women, they knew what I was feeling because some of them had felt it before.
Women like Faith, who sat across from me, her presence calm and steady.
She’d been a cop once in another life and she admitted she’d been in my shoes before.
“It’s never going to go away,” she offered gently.
“But you did what you had to do, and eventually you’ll believe that and it won’t hurt as bad as it does right now. ”
I swallowed and took another sip. The burn felt good, it was warm and reminded me that I was alive. “That’s… comforting, I think.” I hesitated, then quietly admitted, “I don’t feel bad, actually. I feel shaken that I’m not more upset, if that makes sense.” I let out a weak laugh and shook my head.
No one said anything, but no one judged me either.
“I felt helpless,” I whispered. “So fucking useless watching Drew take on three guys while I froze. The same way I always do.” My voice dropped. “I couldn’t let that happen again. I had to do something, ya know?”
All the women who surrounded me nodded, understanding ran deep in their eyes.
Chloe sat up straighter and then she leaned forward, laying one hand on top of mine.
“I killed my husband and his brother. It was self-defense.” One lone tear slid down her cheek.
“It was them or me and I had to do it, and yeah, I kind of wanted to after years of abuse and I was happy to be free. But some nights,” she began and abruptly stopped, shaking her head.
“A lot of nights, actually, I see their faces.”
I knew exactly what she meant, though I didn’t share about the nightmares that still plagued my sleep from my time as Diego’s captive.
I wasn’t ready to talk about it to anyone.
Not yet. Maybe someday. Instead, I reached over and hugged Chloe without thinking twice about it.
“I’m sorry they haunt you,” I whispered. “But that is kind of badass.”
She snorted, swiping her tears. “Didn’t feel that way at the time,” she admitted with a sad smile. “And it was only recently that I started to process it all.”
I knew there were more details and I was curious, but I could also read a room, and it was clear Chloe wasn’t ready to talk about it.
Slowly. So fucking slowly, my body started to feel warm again.
My pulse had returned to normal and the world crept back into focus.
The dullness had sharpened and the colors were more vibrant, but the unease lingered longer than I wanted.
Eventually, my attention turned from how I was feeling to the one thing we were all thinking about but not talking about.
The men were all gone, except a few prospects.
“What do you think’s happening in there?” I asked, nodding towards the closed door where the men had disappeared. I hadn’t noticed the door before, but all the women’s gaze eventually landed on that door as time dragged on.
“They got some new intel,” Peyton offered. “I don’t know what, but it seemed important. I’m guessing we’re about to go on lockdown. Soon.”
A collective groan followed.
“What does lockdown actually mean?” I asked. There was so much to learn about Drew’s club and all the rules. It wasn’t so different than landing in a new foster home or group home.
“We sit around here and eat too much,” Emma answered.
“Drink too much, too,” Raven answered with a smile.
Peyton nodded. “We watch the kids and stay on edge until it’s all over. But we’re safe here and it’s less stressful than being home alone.”
Alone.
I’d spent most of my life that way. But here, surrounded by noise and people and warmth, I was never alone. And more than that, I no longer felt alone. “That’s nice, isn’t it?”
Winter, Hollywood’s old lady, nodded. “I’m not sure I’d have made it this long if I didn’t have these women when shit goes down. It’s hard,” she admitted. “But they make it less so.”
I let those words sink in until they were tattooed on my soul. I’d never had those kinds of friendships, not with women. Not with anyone but Drew. I wanted it, so bad I could taste it. But there was one thought I just couldn’t shake. “I’m sorry you’re all going through this because of me.”
A few of the women laughed sympathetically.
A woman with a soothing voice, Nikki I think, smiled. “Honey, we’ve all been where you are. If you weren’t important to one of them, you wouldn’t be here. You’re family to Vandal. That makes you family to us.”
“Drew’s been my only family for as long as I can remember.” And we’d been apart for so many years that I’d basically been alone. An orphan.
“Welcome to the madhouse,” Peyton said with wide, laughing eyes. “Drink up, babe, you’re still a little pale.”
The door finally opened and the air changed instantly. It was hot and charged, which somehow settled me.
Every woman in the room went quiet as the men filed into the bar, tension coiled tight in their broad shoulders and long strides.
Each pair of eyes scanned the room, looking for the woman they loved, the reason they would fight this fight.
One by one, they found who they were looking for and went to them, embracing them as if they meant everything.
And they did.
I want that.
And then I spotted Drew, his gaze was laser-focused on me as he crossed the room, gray eyes scanning me to make sure I was all right. “You okay, babe?” His voice was thick with worry and tension.
I shrugged and got to my feet. “No, but I will be.”
His arms wrapped around me, solid and familiar.
It was the first time since all of the shit went down in the parking lot—since I became a killer—that the knot in my chest loosened.
“Of course you are,” he whispered in my ear.
“You’ve always been so much fucking stronger than you realize.
” He squeezed me tighter and my heart took a breath.
I pulled back slightly and looked at him, studying his handsome, worry-filled face. “How is everything?”
His shoulders tensed. “Not good but not bad. We’re going into lockdown. That means—”
I cut him off. “The girls filled me in on lockdown. Does that mean Diego is here?” My heart pounded against my chest so loud I was sure all of Nevada could hear it.
“Not sure yet,” he said, and shrugged. “But if he’s not already in town, he will be soon. We’ll make sure of it.”
“You actually want him here?” My eyes widened as disbelief took over.
“Fuck, yeah,” he replied in a flat voice. “So I can kill him or verify he’s dead. Death is the only way he’ll stop looking for you.”
I shivered at those brutally honest words. “Okay,” I said. “What do I do?”
“Stay here. Stay safe.”
I shook my head, instinctively rejecting that idea.
“I think you should use me,” I said before I could stop myself.
I hated even forming those words on my lips.
How many times had men used me for their own reasons and I hadn’t realized it until it was too late?
Too many times. The difference was this time I was going in with my eyes wide open.
I was being useful, not used. “He wants me, and if you dangle me as bait—”
“Not fucking ever,” he spat out each syllable slowly.
“It’s not ideal, I know that.”
He shook his head. “Not fuckin’ happening, Mace.”
He was being stubborn, so I smiled softly, shelving it for now. “Then let me buy you a drink.”
“Drinks are free,” he snorted, offering up a slow, teasing smile.
“Good,” I said. “Because that’s about all I can afford.”
He laughed, kissed my hair. “You were badass today, Mace. I want you to know that I saw what you did and I’m not just grateful, but I am so fucking grateful. I’m proud of you.”
Something in me softened. “I’m proud of me too.”
“I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you more.”
And for the first time since all of this began, I let myself have the thought I swore I’d never wish or hope for again.
Maybe this time, I can stay.