Chapter Four
AYDA
It was late when we finally got clearance to go back to The Hut.
Rusty and Jan were the ever-graceful hosts and fed us two meals as we waited and talked, all coming to the same gloomy conclusion: no one knew a damn thing.
We’d exhausted every avenue we’d had three times over, and there were so many holes in the stories we did have, we only ended up frustrated beyond belief and more tired than I imagined we’d ever felt before. No one more so than Drew. Not having answers made him grumpy.
He’d already lost so much, been through so much, taken on so much, and none of his questions were being answered. He was also now down three men—Jedd, Eric, and Rubin. No one knew where they were, and that only added to the growing pile of questions we all had.
When the call finally came from the fire chief, we all knew we’d be better regrouping where we felt the most comfortable—our own home. Where alcohol would flow, and frustrations could be voiced without scaring Jan and Sam.
The metal of the training room was still glowing hot when we rode back in, but the fire was out, and the smoke haddissipated. The whole landscaping and horizon looked wrong. Even the stars seemed to stretch out over the midnight blue sky and taunt us.
This had been the longest day of my life.
Longer than the day of my parents’ funeral.
Longer than the day Tate and I had lost our home.
It was a close second to the day I thought I was going to lose Drew in that warehouse.
I just needed a minute to clear my head—a second to regain perspective—a moment when I wasn’t on display. I finally found it when I had a moment to crawl under the steamy water of the shower in our bathroom. It took everything in me not to look back on the day and focus on the terrible things we’d done. I managed, to a certain extent, but avoidance became impossible when I came to undress and found a few specks of blood above my boot—blood I seemed to understand intrinsically wasn’t mine. Drew and I had washed most of Owen’s blood from ourselves with Owen’s hose, and I had scrubbed Drew’s cut while he’d rubbed the worst of the blood off himself waiting for Eric to show up. Not that it had helped much.
Once in the shower, I scrubbed my body until my skin was pink, and ignored the ache in the areas that were most abused by Owen. I didn’t want this physical evidence left behind anymore. I didn’t want to be the reminder of what had happened, and I felt that’s exactly what I would be when they all looked at me. The damage on my flesh was all I saw when I looked in the mirror. Now that I was clean, it stood out even more.
This was why I was wearing Drew’s sweats and an oversized hoodie when he found me brushing my hair in our bedroom.
I didn’t worry too much about his reaction—he’d already exorcised his demons on Owen’s flesh. It was the outlaw'scredence. Blood for blood. Blood for betrayal. Blood for treason.
But I could see the tension in Drew’s body as he paced the room with a bottle of scotch fisted in his hand. Agitation rolled from him in waves, while all I found myself capable of doing was falling to the bed on my back and staring at the ceiling as I listened to his boots pound their way across the room again and again.
“Sit with me?” I finally asked, raising my head so I could see him. My hair was in damp tendrils because I hadn’t had the energy to dry it.
Drew stopped in his tracks, taking a moment to tilt his head and look at me. Of course, there was sadness there as he took in my new bruises and mottled skin, but he wasn’t as angry as I once would have predicted from him. It took him a moment, but eventually, he moved, dropping the scotch onto the side before he sank down onto the mattress, resting his ass on the edge and leaning over me. He brushed a hand over my forehead and across my damp hair, his eyes searching mine.
“I mean this in the nicest way possible… but you look exhausted, darlin’.”
I offered him a smile. I wasn’t sure there was a word that could adequately describe my level of fatigue. I was tired down to the very marrow of my bones.
“Long day.”
“Yeah? What you been doing?” he asked with surprise humor lacing his voice.
“Oh, you know, the usual. Mayhem and mystery. Earning my keep.”
“You’ve earned a lifetime of happiness in one day, and then some.” He ran a gentle thumb over the creases around my tired eyes. “Do you think you can stay awake until after I’ve showered?”
“I already told you I’d wait forever for you, pres.”
Gathering his shirt in one of my hands, I fisted the material, pressing against his abs, making sure he felt our connection there as I held his gaze. I had so much I wanted and needed to say, and yet none of that seemed like it needed to be said now. I just wanted to be with him, the rest I could deal with later.
I rose up to kiss him, ignoring the bite of pain on my fragile skin as I made the meeting of our lips deeper and more needful.
“Go and wash today off yourself,” I spoke against him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered with his best southern drawl attached to it, and then he reluctantly made his way to the bathroom.
