Carry You Home (Carry Your Heart #2) (68 page)

Every time I thought that name, every time I glanced at Isabelle's throat, I wanted to just leap out of my truck and run. Wherever Wallace was hiding, like the fucking coward he was, I would find him even if I had to track him down on foot so I could wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until all the life drained out of him.

"Are we going in or what?"

I almost laughed, but then the sound of her rough, cracked words rang in my ears. Just one more reminder of what he'd done to her. The way he'd hurt her. Hearing her voice only made my hands clench around the steering wheel tighter.

"Maybe you should stay in the truck," I thought out loud. "You should be resting for fuck's sake, not going inside the last place on earth I want to be right now."

Her pained, uneven voice called out to me anyway. "You don't have to go in there either. Maybe we should just go back to my dad's and decide what to do in the morning."

She was good. Real good. Seeing as how she knew me better than I probably knew myself, she probably figured stalling and giving me as many outs as humanly possible would somehow derail the inevitable. It wouldn't work.

"We can't go back there right now even if we wanted to. It's a crime scene, remember?"

Not to mention the fact that Saul's blood, and what I assumed was also Wallace's blood, was all over the kitchen.

Isabelle flinched at the reminder and I pushed out a heavy sigh, reaching for her shoulder. I knew I should be grateful she didn't push me away, she wasn't screaming at me—if she was able to scream—she wasn't threatening to pack up her shit right now and jump on the first plane to New York to put as much distance between herself and this mess as possible.

Something nagged at my mind with that last thought. The last thing I wanted was to be separated from her. If I went inside the clubhouse, if I gave in to all the dark thoughts firing through my mind, that's exactly what I'd be doing.

Then I glanced at my wife, at the finger-shaped marks circling her throat, and I opened the door.

The evidence of the drive-by was mostly cleaned up by now. Shards of glass and some stray bullets still littered the pavement, but it wasn't like those little pieces of scenery were exactly out of place here. I wrapped an arm around Isabelle's waist to pull her in closer and it was just as much for my benefit as it was hers. She leaned into me and pressed her face against my shoulder as I pushed through the double doors.

I couldn't hesitate. If I took a breath, if I thought about it too much, I'd back down, and I couldn't let that happen. Something tugged at my mind, something just below the surface, and I had to shove it back down again because now, Isabelle and I were standing inside the clubhouse and everyone inside was staring at us.

It wasn't like I'd expected anyone to roll out the red carpet, but in light of what had happened to Isabelle tonight, a little empathy would've been nice. And fucking human too. Instead, Marcus, with his shoulder wrapped up in a bloody bandage, curled his lips into a snarl and turned away from us completely. That seemed to be the litmus test everyone else needed because one by one, they all fell in line and followed suit.

Everyone, of course, except for my mom, who rushed at Isabelle like a bat out of hell and practically threw herself at her, wrapping her in all the motherly warmth I would've expected from her.

Some of their gazes were locked right on Isabelle's neck—Casey, in particular, looked especially stricken at the sight—but none of them moved any closer. None of them stepped up to even ask if she was okay or if Saul was okay and my steps skidded to a halt. I sucked in a harsh breath as I surveyed this room. There were so many memories here, good and bad. So much of my life had been spent here. So much of my life had been
wasted
here.

This was completely insane. And stupid. And reckless. And fucking dangerous to even be standing in this place right now.

And then my eyes fell to Isabelle, who was staring up at me with watery devastation swimming in her blue eyes. She wasn't afraid of our surroundings, though. She was afraid for me. Terrified of what I wanted to do and the hell that would follow. That coiled rage just waiting to spring loose started to slip away even before Dom stepped around the hallway and stalked toward us.

"Brother," he nodded to me and shifted his gaze to Isabelle, wincing when he got a good look at her throat. "You're okay, right?"

She nodded as the man I used to consider family pulled her into a tight bear hug and murmured something in her ear.

"Lex is my dorm," Dom informed her in a tight voice. "You can go see her if you want."

Isabelle hesitated and I could see the indecision written all over her pale, exhausted face. She wanted to see for herself that Lex was really okay, or at least, as okay as she could be, but she didn't want to leave my side either. It was all there in those eyes: the fear of what I might agree to if she left for even a second.

"I will," she promised, but shook her head. "Just not yet, okay?"

Now I stood in front of the men who I'd grown up with, and who'd also written me off without a second thought, with my anchor at my side.

I didn't know which way I wanted to be pulled.

"What's the plan?" I asked Dom. He was the only one I really wanted to talk to and the only one who had just as much stake in this as I did.

"We're going after them," he told me curtly as if it were already a foregone conclusion.

"You know Iz told the cops Wallace was the one who attacked her, right?"

Dom's demeanor shifted on a dime. His face hardened into a stony mask and any lingering concern he might've had for Isabelle evaporated. A switch flipped and it was all gone now. His cold, menacing glare shifted to Isabelle and he had the balls to actually take an aggressive step toward her.

And that was it.

That last string keeping us tethered together finally unraveled.

"Whoa, Dom," I gritted my teeth and shot my hands out to keep myself in between them. "You get any closer to her like that and we're gonna have some problems. Don't you think she's been through enough already tonight?"

Dom blinked at me and he heaved out a long, tortured sigh. I got it. I really did. I wanted to burn Wallace's body to a crisp and bury the ashes just as much as he did, but wanting to do it and actually doing it were two very different things. I hadn't let myself really think about why Isabelle had stubbornly refused to lie to the cops tonight, but it made sense now. It was the same reason she'd hidden my gun in her dad's room, too.

"I'm sorry, Isabelle," he whispered as he shuffled backward to give us some space. "I didn't mean to—"

I just shook my head. We never should've stepped foot in this place tonight. God, what was I doing?

"She gave them a statement, Dom. Told them everything. They're gonna be looking for him just as much as you are. Maybe you should—"

"I don't give a shit about the cops," Dom snapped. "It doesn't matter anyway. We'll find Wallace long before they ever catch a whiff of him."

"And how are you planning on doing that?"

He threw a look over his shoulder. "Eli's on it."

Right. Of course. Stealth tracking and all that shit. Eli's specialty.

Now that tugging and nagging at my conscience was starting to get the better of me. I didn't even need to hear Dom's plan to know it was a bad one. Given the hard stares leveled our way, I knew I probably wouldn't get too many more details as long as Isabelle was in the room.

To them, she wasn't someone who could be trusted. She was someone who'd run to the cops and potentially blown their one and only chance to put Wallace and the Warlords into the ground. And because of that, my arm just tightened around her waist.

"Look, brother," Dom's voice dropped lower and he shot another quick look over his shoulder before pressing on. "We're gonna be moving on Wallace soon and you're welcome to come with us. You have just as much a right to go as I do," he threw a pointed look Isabelle's way before looking to me again. "You
should
come with us."

About five minutes ago, I was all in. Ready to pounce with guns blazing and ready to unleash the blood-soaked, rage-fueled vengeance Wallace deserved. Now I wasn't so sure. Now I swallowed hard and turned to my wife, whose swimming eyes had never left me, who I'd promised I would never leave again. It all washed over me: the new life we were about to have together, the fresh start I'd always wanted, the family right on the horizon, and then I heard Saul's voice in my head. He was always full of sage advice and I'd brushed this one off nearly two months ago without a second thought. Now they were the only words in my head.

It's not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves.

There was no other choice but her. No other fate but her. No other life but with her.

This was the third time being with Isabelle would save my life and it wasn't just getting myself out of the club either. The night of the break-in, if I'd been alone, if she hadn't agreed to stay with me, I probably would've ran down the stairs with my gun in my hand and gotten my stupid ass shot. And if I went with the club, if I gave in, I wouldn't survive the night.

I just shook my head. It was both the easiest and the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

"I can't," I murmured hoarsely. Dom's eyes widened and I heard a strangled sound from Isabelle next to me.

I wanted to. I wanted to hop on my bike, race to wherever Eli had tracked Wallace down with Dom, and drive a knife right into Wallace's heart. I just couldn't.

"What do you mean
you can't
?" he demanded.

I lifted a shoulder and closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to see the betrayal and the disappointment on his face. I didn't know if I could stand it.

"I need to get Iz out of here," I stated softly despite the murmurs echoing from around the room at my admission. "It's not safe for either of us right now, so we're getting on a plane and we're going to New York."

I peered over Dom's shoulder to find my mom watching this scene play out with tears in her eyes and a hand covering her mouth.

"Mom," I called out to her. "You should come with us."

She gaped at us, her dark eyes darting from me to Isabelle and back to me again before she shook her head.

"I have to stay with Marcus."

Right. What other choice did she have? Not her son and only
real
family, of course. By now, Dom had had enough waiting and he unleashed.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he bellowed in my face and all I saw was pure desperation and disbelief.

I got that, too. I knew that desperation. Knew what it felt like to listen to a gunshot through the phone and hear my wife scream. Knew how helpless I'd felt running to my truck, knowing I might not make it time, knowing that offering myself up to Wallace's mercy in Isabelle's place hadn't been enough, and knowing that if she died, it would've been because of me. I just couldn't let it own me anymore.

"He walked away," I pointed out and swallowed hard when Dom's expression contorted into barely-contained fury. "So I'm walking away too."

Dom just shook his head, as if he couldn't make sense of what he was hearing.

"We both know going after him isn't going to undo what happened to Iz and Lex. Hell, it won't make either of us feel better because we'll just end up in the back of a squad car or in a body bag. You've always been smarter than this and it's just not worth it."

Taking Theo Wallace's life wasn't worth losing either of ours. Dom had to see the truth there. Maybe he just wasn't ready to accept it yet.

"So I should just walk away too, huh? That's what you're saying?" Dom sputtered, shaking his head in fractured disbelief and ran a hand through his hair as he laughed bitterly. "How am I supposed to explain that to my wife? How am I supposed to explain to my daughter that I just let the men who beat her mother up in front of her get away with it?"

"You let the cops handle it like I'm going to. Even if that means a trial and everything that goes with it, it's better than the alternative. They're not getting away with anything."

Dom shot me a hard glare. "Isabelle giving Wallace's name tonight doesn't help Lex."

He was right. I couldn't argue against that one and all I could do was nod.

Dom jabbed a finger in my chest with all the animosity I'd never seen in him before and growled, "If you walk out that door, we're done. You might as well be dead to me if you're willing to just pretend what happened to my wife and what happened to
your
wife
doesn't matter."

"If you really think I don't care about Lex, if you really think looking at Iz's throat right now doesn't make me want to tear Wallace apart..." I trailed off for a moment and sucked in deep breath. Here it was. The death rattle. "Then I guess you never really knew me that well after all. Good luck, Dom."

I didn't wait for a response.

Instead, I steered Isabelle out through the clubhouse's main doors, helped her into my truck, and drove away.

Isabelle

The Raleigh-Durham International Airport was pretty dead at this hour and it was just as well. I'd gotten us the first flight to New York I could find and if it meant taking off at two in the morning, we could live with that as long as it meant we were as far away from Claremont as possible. The craziest part about it all was that I felt safer here in this near-empty airport with strangers than I'd ever felt inside the clubhouse.