Saint found an old wheelbarrow that made the job somewhat easier.
But by the time all the bodies were hauled out into a line in the woods and we put a tarp over them, we were all drenched in sweat. And if how I was feeling was anything to go by, we were all hurting like hell too.
“Alright. I’ve kept my mouth shut long enough,” I said as we closed in on the clubhouse again. Saint’s gaze cut to me, brows knitted. “I think your brother broke his arm or collarbone,” I told Saint.
“What?” Saint barked, his whole body stiffening.
His gaze moved over his brother, who shot me a frustrated look.
“Sorry, man. You couldn’t keep it from him forever.”
“Let me see,” Saint demanded.
I was only vaguely aware of them speaking, though, as Dylan moved into the doorway and gave me a shaky smile.
“You okay?” I asked.
She’d been crying.
I’d bet good money all the others had been too.
She gave me a tight nod.
“So, you’re in this, huh?” I asked, sliding an arm around her.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “I don’t know what that means yet, future-wise. But yes.”
“We’ve got plenty of time to figure out all that other shit,” I said, pressing my forehead to hers.
“There is one thing, though,” she said, glancing behind her where two dogs were standing, watching her patiently. “Two, I guess.”
“We’ve got three dogs now, huh?”
The look she gave me right then made my chest feel fucking tight; it was so full.
It was sweet, hopeful, unguarded.
Everything I’d been waiting for.
And now I had it.
I had her.
Nothing else mattered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Dylan
I was surprised how difficult it had been to walk into that kitchen and face three of the women I used to know as sisters. Especially considering speaking to them had been my biggest motivator for the past year.
I guess it was partly the guilt.
The responsibility I felt for what they went through.
Even if I understood it wasn’t myfault.
I just hadn’t been there at the time.
