Blood & Rust (Lock & Key #4) (40 page)

A BARRAGE OF YELLING AND CURSING
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The short slide and adamant click of a gun, heavy footfalls thudding in leaves and branches, thick grunts—all of it jostled inside me.

My fingers gripped the hot metal of the truck door. My insides convulsed, and I threw up on the pine needles and weed strewn rocks.

“Let’s go!” Boner’s voice.

Heavy arms lifted me inside the airless interior of the truck, a hand on my head. A familiar body, warm skin. Then, it released me.

“You get her to your club and keep her there. I’ll be down as soon as I can. Gotta deal with this fucker!” Catch motioned to his men, who got Reich into his van.

I hope he enjoys the ride. I know I did.

“Why the fuck did you let that Smoking Gun go?” Butler got in Catch’s face.

“Are you shitting me?” Catch shouted back, his eyes blazing. “I can’t do nothing to them, and you know it! Don’t you fucking dare go after them. You do, and we are all up shit’s creek. This falls on Reich. That Gun came here to see him. He’s got a lot to answer for. We start there. You get my sister home. I’m taking this one with me.” He banged on the van. “Move!”

Catch’s dark eyes slid to me. Our father’s dark brown eyes. Eyes now raging with molten iron. I nodded at him from inside Boner’s truck. His jaw seemed permanently clenched as he swung on his bike and tore after the van.

Butler got in the truck and took me in his arms as Boner jerked the vehicle back, swung around, and sped off. I wiped at the side of my mouth, acid trailing on my tongue. My vision was blurry, but I didn’t fight it.

I gulped and gulped, the gusting air from the window whipping over my face, coolness rushing my skin. I slumped against Butler as I held my shirt together, my limbs exhausted.

A wad of fabric was pressed against my chest, the relentless sting a replay of the horror.

“No!” I swatted at his hand.

“Tania, you’re bleeding. Let me do this.”

My head sank back, this time against a large shoulder.

The truck barreled over a winding, rocky roadway, and my eyes blinked open. We passed through the open gates of the One-Eyed Jacks’ clubhouse and finally came to a jarring stop.

“This way! Take her in here!” Alicia’s sharp voice rang out, and my muscles relaxed at the sound.

Butler lifted me and carried me inside to the smell of old vinyl and lemony air deodorizer, the hum of the ceiling fans in the lounge, murmuring voices.

I peered up at a harsh angled jaw and hooded blue eyes. I leaned my face against Butler’s sweat and bloodstained T-shirt, his skin underneath blazing with heat. He carried me down a hallway. A door swung open, and my aching body met a soft mattress that squeaked under our weight.

Butler’s blue eyes filled my vision, clouded eyes lined with creases. He was worried.

I offered him a faint smile, but it didn’t seem to have any kind of softening effect on him.

He took my fingers in his. “Lie back. You’re safe now. It’s over.”

I willed my jaw to unclench, and my gums throbbed. The stinging pain swelled over me again, that burning on my chest. I gave into it and spun on its whirl. I let out a whimper, adjusting myself on the bed.

“Tania? Shit.” He opened my hand in his. My skin was slashed from the shards of broken mirror I’d used to stab Scrib. The blood was sticky.

Was it my blood? Was it Scrib’s?

“I’m okay, really,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Let me get that shirt off you, honey,” murmured Alicia.

“I’ve got her.” That growl came up in his voice again. “Get me a first aid kit and make her some tea with a shot of whiskey in it.”

“I’ve got some codeine if you want something stronger, Tania.”

“Tea’s good,” I replied.

“Okay, hon, whatever you want. Be right back.” Alicia flew out of the room.

“Butler—”

“Just lie still till we get you cleaned up. Please.” His lips smashed together.

I followed his line of sight. My stomach tightened at my ripped shirt, my ripped bra, my skin stained with blood. A moan escaped my mouth.

“Let me do it. Close your eyes,” Butler said.

I didn’t want to close my eyes. I wanted to watch him, his somber face concentrating on cleaning me up, healing me, making it all better, wiping this hell away.

Alicia burst in with a huge first aid kit and a large black T-shirt. Butler took the kit from her and snapped it open. I closed my eyes and within moments the sting of a liquid over my chest had me squirming. Alicia swept the hair from my face.

“I know. Just a bit more. Hang on.” Butler worked over me, his eyes tense, stony. “Thank fuck the cuts aren’t deep.” The tear of adhesive followed, and he patted the edges of a bandage over my chest. He cleaned the cuts on my hand and gently applied ointment over them.

He turned away, packing up the first aid kit, and Alicia helped me take off what was left of my ripped shirt and bra. She stretched the soft cotton shirt over my head, and we both carefully tugged it down over me. She balled up my ruined shirt in her hands. My pretty black bra.

The madness slammed into me.

Tears filled my eyes, and my chest caved in. I sucked in a breath.

Butler took my hand in his and kissed it gently. “I’m right here, Scarlett. Right here. Not leaving you,” he whispered.

Willy stood in the doorway with an oversize steaming white mug in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other.

“How she doin’?” he asked. That warm voice, a hint of a Texas drawl to it, wrapped around me.

I stared at him, his dark blue eyes firmly on mine. Eyes that I’d known for years.

My heart squeezed at the memories of his kindness to me when I used to tag along, against my will, with Grace to the club a generation ago. I was the scared girl desperate to mask her anxiety with an armor of stainless steel cool. From the very beginning, Grace had been right at home among the Jacks but not me. Willy had seen right through me and used to tease me mercilessly, but he spoke my language—a seamless flow of irony and barbs. I’d teased him right back until, eventually, we were both laughing.

Willy’s best friend, Wreck had been stern and introverted while Willy was relaxed and easygoing. Of course, Willy liked his women really young, too, so that could have been a part of it, but he was good to me, respectful even, because of Grace, and I’d always appreciated that. And we’d actually enjoyed each other’s company.

We’d picked up right where we’d left off when he worked at my store, creating a remarkable array of shelves, platforms, stands, a front desk, while giving me all kinds of design advice and going over my options. We’d made a good team.

“Willy,” I murmured.

He handed me the mug and opened the bottle. “How much you need, baby girl?”

“Enough to make me smile again.”

“You got it.” He poured the booze in my tea and leaned over. He planted a quick kiss on my forehead, his trimmed beard brushing against my skin, a hand at the side of my face.

Warring emotions sprang up like a flooding river sloshing over its banks. I took a careful sip of the hot tea, but it did nothing to control the tide. Tears streamed down my face, and he silently took the mug from my hands and put it on the side table.

Willy sat at the edge of the bed and put an arm around me. His distinct aroma of Brut, cigars, and pine made my heart clutch with the need to have those days of my youth again.

Uncomplicated days even if I didn’t think of them that way at the time.

My head fell against Willy’s shoulder.

My dad used to wear the same stupid Brut aftershave. After he’d died, my mother had kept his last bottle in her medicine cabinet for years and years. I would ignore it.

A muffled cry escaped my lips.

“Hey, hey, girl”—Willy took me deeper in his arms—“it’s all right now. It’s over. Over, you hear?”

I sniffled and nodded my head against his shoulder as one heavy hand ran up and down my back.

I hiccuped, sucking in his comforting scent.

“Call Grace,” Butler said softly from somewhere above me.

“She took the baby to the pediatrician earlier. I’ll call her,” replied Alicia. Her footsteps faded from the room.

I peeked up at Willy, wiping at my eyes. “Sorry.”

“You drink up and have a rest. Let us take care of you.”

I nodded and wiped at my nose with a tissue, and he handed me back his mug of magic potion. I knocked back a healthy slug and forced my lips up into a grin.

Willy stroked my leg. “There you go. I’ll check on you later. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He left the room, and I downed the rest of the searing liquid. I leaned back against the pillow, letting the warmth seep through my every jagged nerve. Butler stood over me at the side of the bed, hands on his hips, lips pressed together.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

“Do what?”

“Be mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Okay.”

“I’m fucking furious.”

“See? You’re doing that thing with your lips now, and I like your lips. But not when they’re like that.”

He slanted his head to the side. “Making jokes isn’t going to make this go away.”

“It will push it back though. It’s a special gift I have.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between us. He shifted his weight, glancing down at his boots.

I thought he needed to stay as much as I needed him to. “Stay with me. Please?”

He moved toward the bed, toward me. I scooted over, making it clear that I wanted him on the bed with me. He climbed on, the mattress dipping under his weight, and he took me in his arms. My heart skipped as I settled into his firm body. His long line of muscles squeezed around me as I brushed my hand over the stony slope of his chest.

“I want to ask you a question, and I want you to be completely honest with me,” I said.

“What is it?”

“Do you really want Nina as your old lady, or is that just a business arrangement?”

“That was two questions.”

I nudged his leg with my foot. “To be clear—are you in love with her?”

“Third question.”

“Butler. Please.”

His fingers tucked the edges of the bandage on my chest. “I’m not in love with her. It was an arrangement. She wanted to get away from Reich and her sister, get out of Ohio, and I needed a guarantee on a business deal. We agreed on a year together, and then we’d break it off.”

“Oh.”

“Oh what?”

“That’s interesting.”

“How interesting?”

“Extremely, absolutely, very, very interesting.”

His fingers traced circles up and down my arms.

“You took something from Reich though, didn’t you? Is that the guarantee part?”

His fingers halted, and his body stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

“He told me you took something of his, and he was determined to get it back and teach you both a lesson. And he admitted to me that he’s the one who rigged Nina’s car.”

“Reich?”

“Yes. He’s also planning on bringing the Smoking Guns together with the Broken Blades. Remember we had seen those two bikers at the restaurant in Sioux Falls?”

“Ah, Jesus.” Butler’s head fell back against the headboard. “He’d do that to his own club? To Finger? Fuck, he’s totally off the wall.”

“He’s out for blood. Back to my original question.” His eyes met mine, and I continued before I lost my nerve, “Is your deal with Nina still on? Even though things with Reich have literally exploded? Because you need to uncomplicate your life.”

He took in a deep breath through his nose and pressed his face against mine. A low chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. “I do. How about you?”

“How about me what?”

“How’s your thing with Finger going?”

“I already told you, there’s nothing going on with Finger.”

“Uh-huh.” His sharp tone speared my gut like a fish hook.

We needed to leave it at that for now. Explanations and in-depth analyses weren’t necessary at this very moment, and I was too exhausted anyhow. No, only sincerity remained, if we dared. Sincerity would wield an unexpected gentle power, and if treated with reverence, it could bear much and transform even more.

“Can I confess something ridiculous?” I asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

“I want my daddy.”

“Why is that ridiculous?”

“Because I’m a forty-something-year-old woman whose daddy died when she was barely a teenager.”

“So what? You miss him. How old were you when he died?”

“I was fourteen. I should be over it.”

“Not if you were close to your dad.”

My heart squeezed, and I turned my face into his throat. “I was. Very close. Were you close to your dad?”

“No.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “What happened to yours?”

“He had a heart attack one morning while out on his tractor on the farm. It was our little patch of paradise, just past Meager. We lived there until he died. I miss that. I miss him. Anyway, we didn’t even know Dad had cardiac issues. I was supposed to be working with him that day, but I’d spent the night at Grace’s house instead, so we could watch some video over and over again, play with makeup, and then wake up late the next morning and do it all over again.”

“You were a kid, Tan. What would you have done if you had been there? Watch him die, not be able to help him, and then be traumatized for the rest of your life?”

I curled my fingers in his shirt. “He was alone. I would’ve been with him at least, held his hand, told him I loved him one last time. Ran for help. There was no one to call nine-one-one. Penny was away on an overnight class trip, and my mom was out of town with my brother, visiting some aunt. She got home and found him later that afternoon, all by himself, stiff in the cab of the Caterpillar.”

His fingers stroked mine. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. It was too soon for Drew to lose him. Way too soon. Penny and my mom were always real close, Drew was the baby, and I was Daddy’s girl. After he died, I felt like I had nobody to lean on. I focused on showing Ma that she could count on me, that she could rely on me. Penny was going through her teen rebellion at the time and was much too busy flipping out. I didn’t want my mom to worry. I made sure things got done around the house, that Drew was fed and clean, that I pulled in good grades, and didn’t get in any trouble.”