Reign of Wrath (Dirty Broken Savages #3)(18)

Gage moves forward and catches my chin again with his fingers, lifting my face up to his. His eyes are bright green like spring grass, sharp and intense as he scans my face and looks into my eyes like he’s trying to read everything there. Trying to make sure I’m not slipping away again.

I don’t know what he saw before, but now that I’m a little more clear-headed, I can see how strung out both of them are. They both look a bit haunted by how fucked up I was, and there’s something almost desperate in the way Gage looks at me now, like he doesn’t want to see any traces of that numbness again.

I hold his gaze, letting him see it all—the pain that’s there, stabbing at the heart of me, and the ragged edges that might not ever get smoothed out. But it’s better than being hollow, better than just being a ghost in life, watching everything through a layer of glass and fog.

Whatever Gage sees now, it must be enough. He nods, dragging his fingertips down the line of my jaw.

“I told you, baby girl. We can’t let you go.”





6





River





Knox and Gage lead me out of the bathroom, one of them in front and the other behind me, like they want to make sure no one can even look at me.

Gage nods to the bartender as we walk past, and I have a vague memory of being slumped over that bar, ordering drink after drink and barely feeling the burn of it. Apparently, I really was fucking out of it.

There’s a moment where we pause, and Gage narrows his eyes, but then reaches into an inner jacket pocket and pulls out a stack of cash. He slides it over the bar to the bartender, who looks at the money and then back up at Gage like he’s almost afraid the stack will bite him if he reaches for it. Or Gage might.

“You don’t deserve it,” Gage tells him, and the venom in his voice is quiet but still deadly. “But this is for you to keep your fucking mouth shut about all of this. If you don’t say shit about what happened here tonight, then you’ll be fine.”

He holds the bartender’s gaze, and the implication is pretty clear.

“No problem,” the bartender says, scrambling to grab the cash.

Gage nods, and we walk out of the bar.

The night air feels cool on my heated skin, and I realize it’s probably damn near close to dawn at this point. There’s dew on everything, and even though the sky is still dark, it has that hazy quality that means the first rays of morning aren’t that far away.

“So, I need the car,” Knox says, stretching his arms overhead and cracking something in his back. He gives Gage a significant look, and Gage just nods again.

“We’ll get a cab home. Be thorough,” he says.

Knox rolls his eyes and catches the keys when Gage tosses them to him.

I glance between them, not sure what’s going on.

“Why do you need the car?” I ask Knox. Surely it’s too late or early or something for them to already be doing work.

Knox tips my face up to his and kisses me, lingering for just a bit before he pulls back. Some of that haunted look is gone from his face, but not completely.

“Gotta bury a body,” he says. “The usual.”

The smirk that tugs at his lips makes me think it’s a joke at first, but then a memory from earlier in the night hits me. Some asshole talking to me at the bar, leaning too close and not taking my silence as the “no, fuck off” that it should have been. I remember the smell of cheap booze on his breath, but it barely affected me then. I was so numb to everything around me.

Then I remember being in that booth, swimming through the haze of being drunk and being numb and all the darkness that was trying to keep me down. His hands were on me, I’m pretty sure, sliding under my clothes, touching me. Normally, I would have kicked his ass myself, from the second he started getting touchy, but I was beyond fucked up at that point.

That must be who Knox is talking about.

They came in and saw him touching me, and Knox killed him.

It does something to me to know that. It drives home the point Gage made earlier about how they can’t let me go. A reminder of everything we’ve become to each other.

A new emotion rises in my chest, edging out the smallest bit of the burning pain that still sits there. It’s warm, but not burning, and sharp, but not in a way that’s meant to cut. It’s just undeniable and impossible to ignore.

I’m not alone.

The two of them came and found me, tracked me down somehow, when it probably would have been easier to just let me go. And now Knox is off to bury a body.

For me.

It’s a lot to take in, but it makes me feel better.

With one last grin, Knox disappears, heading off to where they parked the car. Gage finishes typing something into his phone—calling for the cab, I guess—and we stand close together to wait for it.

It’s quiet out now. It’s the time of early-ass morning where everyone has given up for the night and crawled back to their holes and their homes to grab a little sleep before they get back to whatever shit they were up to before. Gage puts his arm around me, pulling me in closer to him, and even though it’s not that chilly outside, it feels nice to tuck myself in close to him and lean my head on his shoulder.

I don’t have to prop myself up because he’s got me, and that’s a good feeling.

It doesn’t take long for the cab to pull up, and Gage maneuvers me toward it, opening the door and letting me slide across the backseat before he gets in after me.