As the thought completed, fat raindrops began to fall from the sky, pelting the yard and rooftops.
Nash came inside, hair soaked and stuck to his face. “The Crows are missing Drummer too. Rocco reckons they should’ve been back from torching the truck hours ago.”
“They did torch the truck. Saint saw the smoke.”
“Then what happened, though? You sure he didn’t run into them before he came back here?”
I snapped the cigarette I was holding. Tossed it aside and reached for another. “You think he had time to off three people and ditch the bodies before he came back here? And that he’s fucked up enough not to tell us about it?”
After a beat I couldn’t blame Nash for, he lit a smoke of his own and shook his head. “It wasn’t him. But they don’t know that and he’s out there alone. Should we go after him?”
For any other brother, I wouldn’t have hesitated, but Saint wasn’t an ordinary brother. An ordinary man. He was an extraordinary human and his brain wasn’t wired the same as the rest of us. He had a nose for trouble. An instinct. Chances were he already knew he was riding into a storm and he’d gone to ground, staying low until he could get the job done before he came home to us.
Tome.
“If he isn’t back by tonight or made contact, we’ll go looking. Until then, we wait. I trust him, and I pity any fucker who hunts him down.”
Nash grunted his agreement and retreated to the bar. I watched him greet my sister and then flop onto the couch I’d found Rubi on... yesterday? A fucking week ago? Damn, I had no idea.
I understood the look Orla sent Nash’s way, though. She was worried about him. About me. About River. About the whole fucking mess our lives had always been.I’m so fucking tired of this.
Rubi came in from outside, rubbing his temples, still moody that he couldn’t ride and whatever else was pissing him off. A couple of prospects trailed after him, grimy and sweat-covered from whatever grunt work he’d had them do. The mood was sombre but still buzzed enough from the crazy night that I walked out without a word to any fucker.
I craved peace. I needed to think. Despite knowing I wouldn’t sleep, I took Embry’s advice and retreated upstairs.
The room the good chaplain slept in most often was already occupied. Embry was passed out on the bed, his arm dangling from one side. The man in me that cared about my brothers more than anything went to him and tucked it back on the bed, but as the thought crossed my mind, someone beat me to it. Mateo was already there, covering Embry with a quilt before backing off to a chair by the door.
He didn’t see me. And I didn’t alert him to my presence. I filed the scene away to think about later and kept moving to my room.
I opened the door and slipped inside, taking a moment to lean against it and close my eyes. My heart was a wreck, thudding with anxiety for Saint. Aching for Alexei. Grieving for the fact that River was never gonna let me protect him.
Without the door at my back, I might’ve fallen to the floor, but I found refuge in the cool wood and comfort in the aches and pains beginning to catch up with me.
“You have the best view from this window.”
My eyes flew open. By now it was daylight, winter sun fighting against the incoming clouds, casting a rainbow over the compound yard.
Alexei stood by the window, eyes a live wire of energy, hair more dishevelled than I’d seen it after a solid five hours of fucking.
His smile was obscene, but I couldn’t smile back.
20
Alexei
Cam neededme.
He stared at me for a heart-stopping moment, then he was on me like a man possessed.
And I wanted him to possess me.
Needed it more than air in my lungs.
He crossed the room in one stride and seized me by the dirt splattered jacket I was still wearing.
He hauled me close, his gaze fierce. “Are you okay?”
“Of course.” I spoke with a lightness I did not feel. “Are you?”
