My Maddie (Hades Hangmen #8)(51)

“What is it?” Ky asked, Styx moving beside him.

Tanner looked to Beau, then to Styx and Ky. “Our old man had a ring with that symbol on it.”

“What the fuck is it? Klan shit again?” Ky snapped.

Tanner and Beau shook their heads. “Not Klan. Old man never told us what it meant or where he got it. I didn’t tell us shit about much of anything.”

“So if it isn’t the fucking Klan, who the fuck is it?” Styx signed and Ky spoke.

“No fucking idea.” Tanner shrugged. Tanner took a picture on his cell phone. “But I’m gonna find out.” Turning my head away from the dead bodies and the men who had hurt my family, I followed AK and Tank to the van. They laid Flame across a row of seats and I sat beside him. Resting his head on my knee, I stroked his hair, thankful he had some temporary peace. Asher sat behind me. I reached around and took hold of his hand. I expected him to pull away from me. Instead he held on tightly. In fact, he did not let go until we were home. AK and Viking carried Flame inside and laid him upon our bed. Rider made quick work of stitching and patching up his wounds while he was sedated.

“It’ll be a while before he wakes,” Rider said. “That’s good. The longer he sleeps, the more his head might heal.” Rider was conflicted. I could read it on his face. Bella took hold of his hand, leading him in the direction of the door. “When he wakes, call me,” Rider said. “If he doesn’t recognize you, leave the cabin. Okay? Be safe.”

“Okay,” I agreed. But I spoke a lie. I would not be leaving Flame.

Rider and Bella left the house. Asher hovered at the door, like he wanted to be anywhere but here, with his brother, right now. Sadness flared in my heart. AK put his hands on his shoulder. “Come on, kid. You’re coming back to my place. Rider’s gonna fix you up too.” Asher did as he was told. I believed, in this moment, he needed someone to take the lead over his care. He cast Flame one long final look, before leaving the cabin, his head bowed and shoulders sagging. “We’re next door. We ain’t going nowhere ‘til he’s better and back with us. Yeah?” AK said.

I nodded. When the cabin was clear, I locked the door and lay beside Flame. Reaching for his hand, I held on tightly. His breathing was steady, and his face was unmarred by worry or the flames he felt in his blood. “We will get through this, Flame. We have done it before. We can do it again.”

Taking his hand, I lowered it over my baby bump, letting the tears fall from my eyes. He had not once held the bump, not once lay his hand on the place where our baby grew. The sight of his hand on our baby made me feel happier than ever before. Our baby was perfectly situated, as though it was always destined to be there. As though we were always meant to have this child. And I left his hand there. I let Flame’s warmth flow through my clothes and into my skin. As my eyes began to close, I felt our baby move. And I allowed myself to smile through the crippling pain and fear that had taken control. But that feeling of our baby recognizing its father filled me with determination to help Flame fight this. That we would triumph, once and for all. That he would face the burdens of his past and finally lay them to rest and find peace.

We had a new life awaiting us. We had a daughter or son who needed us. Needed us to love and protect her or him in a way that neither Flame nor I had ever been gifted.

Stroking Flame’s stubbled cheek, I whispered, “Rest, Flame. Rest. And then fight for us.” I kissed his lips softly, a promise that he would prevail. And I fell asleep. With Flame’s hand protecting our baby, I fell asleep. Knowing he would never harm our child.

We just needed Flame to believe it to be true. And he would. I would not fail him. He was my Flame. And I would stand beside him through it all. I would hold his hand and guide him through the fires of hell.





Chapter Nine


Lil’ Ash



“There,” Rider said confidently and stepped back from my bed. He properly treated the wounds he’d only managed to patch up in the woods. He busied himself with packing all his medical shit back in his bag. I looked down at my body. There were fresh gauzes and bandages fucking everywhere. There wasn’t a part of my skin that wasn’t marked in some way. Knife wounds, fucking snake bites. Rider had given me some shots for the venom, tetanus, and then started stitching me back together. He’d already been to Flame, done the same for him.

Just thinking of my brother felt like taking a crowbar to my skull. I knew he was fucked up right now. I knew he wasn’t handling Maddie and the baby real well. And I’d fucking crushed him. I knew it. He wouldn’t say that, of course. Fuck, his face had barely moved since I’d struck a nerve by calling him Poppa. I’d seen his cheek twitch and his muscles tense. And, in the fucking moment, it hadn’t been enough. I’d wanted him to hit me, to fucking hurt me, to show me that he at least fucking saw me. I knew he couldn’t express shit like that. But in that moment, I hated him. I fucking hated that he was different, that something inside him made him different from the other brothers. I wanted to be able to talk to him, wanted him to talk to me normally.

I was a bastard. I fucking hated myself for what I’d said to him. Telling him he’d be a shit papa. So I’d chased after him as he ran from the cabin, riding by his side. Showing him, I never meant any of what I said, that I fucking loved him as he was. He is my brother. I didn’t need him to be like everyone else. He’d saved me. He’d given me a home and a family. It didn’t matter that he was different, that we didn’t talk much or grabbed a beer at the bar while shooting the shit.