Chapter 7 #2
“Didn’t sound like nothing,” Kai leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes narrowing.
I didn’t respond, and they shared a loaded glance before Sable resumed unbuttoning his shirt.
“I wanted to show you that you’re not alone,” he said to me as he slid one arm out and twisted, showing me the back of his shoulder.
I sucked in a breath through my nose as my nausea violently surged.
Stamped into his skin was an old brand, much older than mine, but I recognized it immediately.
I’d seen that brand in the skin of more people than I could count.
It was the mark of a warlord who went by Mad Dog.
Juck used to traffick slaves for him, a lot of slaves because Mad Dog went through them quickly.
Juck’s business profited from that, but something happened between them when I was around sixteen, and Juck never worked with him again.
I wasn’t sorry about it. Last I’d heard, someone had hired assassins to kill Mad Dog, and all his slaves escaped. I wasn’t sad about that, either.
“You know that mark,” Kai said.
I met his gaze, and my stomach twisted. Every bit of amusement and concern had vanished, making his blue eyes as cold as the frozen river. Sable shrugged his shirt back on in a smooth, fluid motion and turned to stare at me as well.
“How do you know that mark, Ember?” Kai asked, and his tone made all the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“Kai,” Sable warned.
“Did you work for Mad Dog?” Kai demanded, standing in one fluid, aggressive motion that made me flinch.
“No,” I blurted out.
“How do you know it, then?” Kai stalked slowly and deliberately toward me.
“Kai,” Sable said louder.
I started scrambling backward, my eyes on his fists clenched at his sides.
“Kai, stop,” Sable gracefully stood, putting himself between me and Kai.
I watched him gently cup Kai’s freckled face, and Kai finally stopped glaring at me and met Sable’s gaze.
“I don’t think she was there,” Sable murmured, but I had been.
I clapped my hand to my mouth and clambered to my feet as nausea surged, and they both whipped toward me.
I stared at them, wide-eyed with panic. Kai blinked, his anger swiftly changing to confusion, but Sable must have understood because he immediately seized my elbow and started towing me toward the door.
Somehow, I held it in until we got outside, where I heaved up the contents of my stomach into the snow. Sable kept a tight grip on my elbow.
Sable had been one of Mad Dog’s slaves.
Did Juck drag him across the desert? Was he one of the sobbing, terrified people I watched get shoved inside the rusty horse trailers?
Juck didn’t even let them out to relieve themselves on the two-day journey.
They were forced to stand in puddles of their excrement.
And I’d just watched it happen, too terrified of Juck’s wrath even to speak up.
Mad Dog had a harem of female slaves, and his entire garrison was practically a pleasure house.
While his lodgings were in the adobe fortress on the surface, the majority of the garrison was underground, and he forced the slaves to dig out more tunnels to expand his hold.
I’d never been inside the garrison. Juck always made me stay in his tent under guard when he spent the night inside partaking in whatever Mad Dog offered, but I could guess the darkness underground resembled that awful cell under the watchtower.
My stomach heaved again despite being empty now.
“It’s alright, Ember,” Sable said gently, and shame blazed through me like fire.
I tried to jerk my arm away when I caught my breath. “Let go.”
“I don’t think so,” he replied, but his voice stayed calm.
“What’s wrong?” Wolf’s sharp voice cut through the quiet.
“Ember’s sick,” Kai said from the porch.
“Why?” Wolf snapped, sounding closer.
I stayed bent over, my hair hiding my face as I struggled not to cry, spitting bile into the snow.
“Not sure,” Sable answered.
Wolf’s boots came into view, but I stayed leaning over, trying to hide behind my hair. This was so much worse than when Trey and Sam saw me get sick.
“I showed her my scar,” Sable said in a low voice. “She recognized it.”
“How?” Wolf asked sharply.
“That’s what I want to know,” Kai muttered.
“She said she didn’t work for him,” Sable added.
There was no doubt in my mind now they would know the Reapers and my anxiety grew at the thought of Wolf finding out where I’d been all these years.
I hated that a part of me still didn’t want my brother to be ashamed of me.
He already thought I murdered Dune—that I was a monster—so I didn’t understand why I cared.
A hand grasped my other arm and pulled me upright to face Wolf. He frowned, but I could almost believe he looked concerned.
“What’s wrong? Why are you sick?” he demanded.
“I’m fine,” I choked out.
His eyebrows nearly touched his hairline. “Are you fuckin’ serious?”
“This, my friend, is called karma.” Lee sounded far too cheerful, and someone snorted a laugh.
“Shut it, Lee,” Wolf responded. “All of you, go inside. We’ll be right there.”
“You sure?” Scar asked.
“Yeah,” Wolf’s voice sounded strange.
I glanced at him to find him staring at me with a grave expression. He waited until the rest of his crew filed inside and shut the door before he released my arm. I wrapped my arms around my torso, my stomach in knots. I had no idea what he was going to say.
Wolf ran a hand through his hair, opened his mouth, then closed it. He took a deep breath and tried again. When he spoke, he sounded awkward but jarringly gentle at the same time. “Em, are you pregnant?”
I blinked stupidly at him, so taken aback by the question I forgot to answer for a moment. His brow creased in concern.
“No!” I blurted out. Trey and I hadn’t used protection, so I had wondered, but I’d bled about a month after Trey’s death. It was strange to grieve someone who never existed, but I had.
He stared at me, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “You can tell me. I just…I just want to make sure you’re alright.”
That hurt worse than anything he’d said or done so far because he actually sounded like my brother again. I thought this Wolf—the one who cared about me—died on the rooftop with Dune. To my horror, tears filled my eyes.
“I’m not pregnant,” I whispered.
“Why are you sick, then?”
I squeezed my arms tighter around myself, trying to hold myself together. “I’m not sick, I’m just—” What was wrong with me? I realized I had no idea what to say. “I just get sick sometimes.”
“Why?”
My entire body trembled. I felt like I was unraveling. Why was this so hard? “Because I’m…sometimes, I get—” I faltered.
“Is it somethin’ that happens when you’re upset?” he pushed when I didn’t continue.
That sounded close to the truth, so I nodded. The muscles in his face tightened, but his expression stayed calm as he studied me.
“You never used to do that. In fact, I don’t remember ever seein’ you sick before.”
I was not about to get into all the little ways Juck had broken me. “I’m fine,” I said, my voice ragged.
“You’re clearly not.” His eyes narrowed, a little bit of frustration and impatience flashing across his face.
“It doesn’t matter,” I tried again, more desperate this time.
“It matters to me!” he snapped.
“ Why?”
He blinked, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean why? Because you’re my sister.”
An escaped tear rolled down my face. “You think I murdered Dune.”
The pain that opened in his eyes was a deep well of emotion. “You’re still my sister, no matter what you’ve done.”
No matter what you’ve done. But how could I convince him I didn’t do it?
“I practically raised you,” he added.
There was no “practically” about it. He did raise me. I couldn’t remember Pa ever doing anything.
“That girl you raised is dead.” My voice was as empty as my chest.
His nostrils flared, and anger bled into his voice. “Ember.”
“No, Wolf, I’m not… I’m not sayin’ that to make you mad. I’m just tryin’ to be honest. She’s gone.”
His face creased with a mixture of desperation, fury, guilt, and concern, and his voice shook when he spoke. “Where have you been? How did you know Mad Dog’s mark?”
“Wolf—”
“Who fuckin’ branded you?”
I dropped my eyes to the ground.
“Who, Em?” His voice was so dark.
“You brandin’ me a murderer hurt worse.” The numb words spilled from my lips as I met his gaze again.
He recoiled, horror flashing through his eyes. “I didn’t?—”
“I knew you’d never believe me,” I barreled on. “I knew it when I saw your face on that rooftop. You saw Dune and me, and you decided I killed him, and I knew you’d never even consider anythin’ else.”
“Ember—” he tried, his voice sharp.
“Wolf, are you actually listening or just waiting for me to confess?” I interrupted. “I have no proof other than my word, and I know that doesn’t mean shit to you, so what’s the fucking point? I’m so… I’m so tired. ”
That muscle in his jaw flexed.
“Just kill me here. Please? I swear, I’m not tryin’ to trick you. I just—” my throat constricted, and I struggled to regain my composure. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“You want me to kill you?” His voice had gone eerily devoid of emotion.
I hesitated briefly, my heart clenching at the thought of my crew. “Yes.”
He slowly drew his pistol. My heart leapt into my throat, but I didn’t move.
“You want me to put a bullet in your head right here, right now?”
He placed the pistol gently against my temple, and the memory of Madame doing the same thing to Trey flashed through my head. My eyes overflowed, but I spoke with conviction.
“Yes.”
He stared at me, gun still held to my head, his brow furrowing slightly.
“I’m not tryin’ to trick you,” I choked out. “Just do it.”
That muscle flexed in his jaw again, and I closed my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. I pictured Trey reaching for me and tugging me into his arms—the last place I felt safe .
“Darlin’,” I could hear his voice, “darlin’, what ? —”