“This ex of yours is dead?” Fang went straight back to business. His face set in a grim line.
I nodded mutely
“Good, saves me from killing him for you.” Fang's eyes searched my face. “You must know that he can’t hurt you anymore, Sunflower? You have to realise that.” Something darkened in his eyes. “Did he hurt you when you were together? Bobby said what he had done to those other…” He trailed off, glancing away.
“No, not like that, but you're wrong - he is the one who is doing this... It’s all the same and...” I broke down in tears. And I hated myself for it. I hated showing weakness. I had been strong for so long because if I broke down it would mean he had won.
“Baby,” Fang crooned. “It’s not him, it must have been someone else back then as well. But you don’t need to worry about it anymore. I’m not going to let the bastard win. You’re safe, you’re fucking loved.”
Loved. I bit my lip. Had he really just said loved?
It hit me then. “If it’s not him then that means…” A fresh sob ripped its way from my throat. I had always thought it was Seb because who else could it be. But maybe it wasn’t. And if he was innocent of stalking, what other things could he have been innocent of?
When he had needed me, when he had been about to slit his wrists and end his life, I hadn’t answered his plea for help. What kind of monster did that make me?
Catching my look, Fang growled. “Do not even think that ending his miserable life was your fault, Gypsy. Do not do it.”
But how could I not? Had he been innocent all the time? And if it wasn’t him stalking me, then who the hell was?
29
Fang
“Gypsy?”Hansel asked the moment I flopped down onto one of the bar stools. I let my head drop into my hands.
“Asleep,” I murmured.
That conversation had been one of the hardest I had ever had to have, but not as hard as having to hold her as she sobbed herself to sleep. Gypsy was always so strong, a bright light in my darkness. To see her totally and utterly destroyed killed something inside of me.
“Finally,” I added.
Something must have shown in my face, or maybe it was my tone, but Hansel's face swung towards me, his eyebrows crashing down and deepening the line between his eyes.
“How bad is it?”
“Bad,” I mumbled. I couldn’t even explain it to him, although I would have to, and soon. “Really fucking bad.”
“Darcie and Iris kind of bad?”
I mulled over his question. Was it that type of bad? Gypsy wasn’t on some crime family’s radar, she had never been trafficked and forced to sell her body against her will, so I guessed it wasn’t quite that bad. But it was still...unfortunate.
“Gypsy is in a different type of trouble,” I said at last. “She’s been running for a long time.”
Hansel’s chuckle took me by surprise. Out of all the things he could have done at that moment, laughing was the one thing I hadn’t expected.
“What’s so funny?” I didn’t even try to keep the anger from my voice.
“We are,” he said with a shrug. I continued to stare at him, his words not making a lick of sense to me.
“The Savage Sons have a type.” He shook his head. “And we don’t even realise it.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Hansel? I am too tired and too stressed out for your riddles.”
His sigh was loud. “Think about it, Prez. All of us have fallen for women who needed saving. It’s like we have some underlying hero complex. Or maybe it’s daddy issues?” His eyes narrowed. “Can men have daddy issues? Guess it doesn’t matter.”
I scowled at him. The last thing I wanted to hear about was any daddy issues my oldest friend had. I had always assumed only women got them.
“You need to see a fucking therapist,” I growled out.
