Chapter 30
Thirty
Thorn
Her expression is unreadable, but at least she stops moving away from me.
Of course, she’s still five feet away and the distance may as well be the Grand Canyon…but progress.
Now if I can just stop being an idiot and actually talk to her.
The temperature seems to drop and she shivers, that pointless coat of her doing nothing to protect her.
I shrug out of my suit jacket, cross over to her, settling it on her shoulders.
She holds it closed instead of dumping it on the floor, so at least that’s something.
“Will you…” I swallow. “Will you walk with me?”
Her head tilts to the side, those eyes studying mine.
I wait for her answer, music drifting through the air, laughter and cheers lingering on its heels. The wedding reception continuing on exactly as it should.
And I’m holding my breath, hoping the woman I love will take one more chance on me.
She nods and I exhale, the relief making my knees shake.
Heart pounding, I offer my hand.
She looks at it, at me. Then slips her fingers into mine.
More relief.
More fear.
“Walking helps I’ve found,” she says, tugging me toward the steps.
We move down the stairs, slip out into the courtyard, the hedge maze in the distance, the pond just in front of us. Lights hang from the trees, the wind rustles their leaves, and the soft lap of the water attempts to provide a soothing melody.
But there’s no soothing this.
I take a breath.
Then another.
Her fingers tighten on mine. “It doesn’t have to be tonight.”
Fuck, I love this woman.
Which means I’m able to admit, “I’m tired of it eating me inside out.”
She shifts closer, nods, murmurs, “Okay, honey.” And then…she waits.
The first part is harder than I expected.
No, that’s a lie. I knew this was going to be fucking terrible and it’s exactly what I expected.
Because I remember it all.
Every second. Every action. Every fucking thing.
“My father worked for the Lyons. He started as a soldier, and he built up such a reputation for doing anything and everything necessary to get the jobs assigned to him done that he quickly climbed through the ranks—enforcer, captain, lieutenant, and eventually, he made it into their inner circle.” I clench my teeth together then exhale.
“What makes the Lyons so difficult to deal with is their power structure is decentralized. They actually have a fucking board, and my father is on it.”
“A board?” she asks, aghast.
I laugh and it’s not the least bit amused. “Yup,” I say. “They decide what criminal activities they’re going to engage in like a fucking billion-dollar corporation decides how to best please their shareholders.”
“Honestly, some of those billion-dollar companies are doing the same thing.”
She’s not wrong, and I know she’s trying to lighten the moment. But there’s not really any lightening this.
So, I push on. “The businesses they predominately fund are human trafficking and arms dealing. Of course, they round out their portfolio by selling drugs, loansharking, and racketeering,” I add dryly.
“Gotta have something to keep the underlings busy while the higher ups bring in those contracts with the big bucks—bonus, if a simple soldier can bring in some money too.”
“Is that what your father had you do?”
I exhale. “I was selling drugs at eight, trailing enforcers to pick up protection money by ten. I took a baseball bat to my first kneecap for a missed loan payment at thirteen, and”—a breath—“I killed my first enemy of the Lyons at sixteen.”
She sucks in a breath. “My God,” she whispers. “What happened?”
“We got in over our heads because I was cocky and overconfident. My whole circle was—teenagers are dumb and it wasn’t like we had any boundaries.
So long as what we were doing was benefiting the family and we weren’t bringing any unwanted attention from the authorities, we were free to do what we wanted.
Hell, they encouraged it. They wanted to see what lengths we would go to for their benefit.
” I shake my head. “So yeah, we decided to swing our dicks and steal some products off a ship.”
“A ship?”
“My father and I were living in France at the time. He was based near a port town that was the Lyon hub for transporting products.”
“People?” she asks cautiously. “And drugs?”
“Yes.” A beat as I let her take that in.
“And all the products we used to make the operation look legit—luxury goods, electronics, chips. There’s big business in memory and ram right now because of AI.
They were at the forefront of it, controlling the stock, raising the cost—and their profits—and supplementing it with whatever profitable products they could get their hands on.
” I sigh. “But their biggest profit was in people.”
She waits, as though she knows this is going to get worse.
“We boarded the boat, thinking we were going to steal some purses or scarves.” The memories of that night well up, threaten to take over.
The moon glinting off dark water.
The water lapping against the boat’s hull.
The shouting and gunshots and…
Fuck, there had been so much blood.
“There were kids in the container—little girls and little boys…and Claudette.”
River goes stiff, as though she’s bracing.
“She was my age, was taken because she refused to let her sister go alone, and God—” I laugh softly. “She was fierce. We opened that door and she came out kicking and yelling and fighting.” My amusement fades. “Unfortunately, that fierceness drew the attention of the guards.”
Bullets flying.
Shouting and screaming.
My friends cowering.
“I fired back. I wasn’t even aiming, was just trying to get us enough cover to get us the fuck out of there.”
“But?” she whispers.
“I hit him. Sergio got the other.”
She blinks. “The same man who kidnapped me?”
I nod. “He and I…well, we were cut from the same cloth.”
“What happened to the kids?”
“We shoved them back into the container, stole the boat, brought it to our dock and unloaded them.”
She gasps.
“I was a monster, little hen. Sergio and I fucking ate up the attention we got from bringing them in. My father was so proud of me and fuck, but I was proud of me too. Until I saw Claudette again. She was older than the client wanted, so she was employed at the house instead of being sold off.” My stomach churns.
“And in order to keep her sister safe she…” I trail off, unable to finish for a long moment.
“It was the first time I started to question everything I thought I knew. What the men who used her body did to her…”
“Thorn,” River whispers. “I—”
“Turns out that Pascal was tracking the kids. He managed to get them safe—her sister, the other boys and girls. But Claudette was under lock and key. She’d become my father’s favorite and—”
Bile burns the back of my throat.
“And since they were grooming me for leadership, I had to…”
River’s face stills.
I push through before I stop. Before I can retreat again. “The Lyons like smart kids. But they like loyal kids even more.”
River says nothing.
And the words keep flowing. “But I couldn’t do that. Claudette didn’t know, though. Or maybe she didn’t trust it, not when she’d been so abused. Still, she and I eventually came to an understanding. When she was ready to break, she’d leave a daisy in my jacket—”
River jerks, and I know she’s thinking of the same thing I am.
The daisy cookies.
Rainbow sprinkles.
And darkness.
I exhale. “She’d sleep and I’d keep watch. But I couldn’t keep her safe, couldn’t protect her.”
“Oh, honey.”
“I told myself I didn’t have a choice. That I couldn’t get her out—and maybe that’s true. But if I’d just gone when Pascal first made contact, first offered me a way out, she would still be alive. Instead, I waited too long and…I got Claudette killed.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“No,” I agree. “And it wasn’t like I grew up in a world where I could trust him. But the truth is the truth. It took a long time for Pascal to convince me and when I finally took the plunge, everything that could go wrong did go wrong.”
“What happened?”
“My dad decided he needed Claudette that night, and she was in bad shape. By the time I was able to get her patched up enough to move, it was near the end of our escape window.” I exhale. “Sergio caught us.”
“God, you must have been terrified.”
“More than terrified. And then when he took you. I thought—” My eyes slide closed. “Then he sent texts, taunting me, threatening you.”
“It was like that night again.”
“Yes.”
“Thorn,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around me.
But I can’t let her hold me, not like that.
Not until she knows—
I step out of her hold. “We were brought in front of the Board,” I whisper.
“Claudette and I, and they hurt her, little hen. Worse than any time before. My father held a gun to my back, told me if I made so much as a sound, he’d kill me.
I should have let him,” I rasp. “Because all I did was stand there and watch as they—” My throat goes tight.
“And, fuck, Sergio got off on it. Like every time she screamed, it turned him on.”
River shudders.
“And I did nothing. I stood there with the gun to my back, and I let it happen.”
“Thorn,” she murmurs.
“And then, when my father told me I needed me to prove my loyalty, I…” I grit my teeth together, give her the last of it. “I took his gun and I shot her in the head.”
River gasps, stumbling back a step.
“She was dying. Suffering and—”
She takes another step back.
“I had to,” I finish.
Silence falls, and God, that’s almost worse than finally telling her everything.
Especially as her eyes close.
As a tear slips free, slides down her cheek.
The sight of that glittering orb slams into me like a two-by-four to the temple.
“I’ll go,” I tell her.
She jerks, eyes flying open. “Thorn—”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“Yes, I do. I—” But she doesn’t finish her sentence because her chest hitches, a sob echoing through the air.
And then that awful silence falls again.
The wind picks up, and a strand of hair flies forward, drifts across her cheek.
I reach out, intending to brush it back.
She flinches.
Fuck.
That fucking hurts.
But it’s enough. It’s confirmation. She knows what kind of man I am and…she doesn’t want me to touch her.
I should feel relieved.
Instead, it feels like I’m dying.
I need to get the fuck out of here.
“Thorn,” she says again.
“Let’s get you back inside, little hen,” I order softly. “It’s getting colder.”
“Honey—”
I turn, walk toward the house, releasing a breath when she hurries to catch up to me. But when we reach the French doors, I don’t follow her through them.
Instead, I turn and disappear into the shadows.
“Thorn!”
I don’t stop.
I can’t stop.
Because I already know how this is going to end.