Stay Vertical (The Bare Bones MC #2)(51)

“Get a container of water. Some of this blood has dried.”

“Sure,” said Brunhilda. “Should we call 911?”

Madison glared at Lytton, who by now was almost as bloody as June. “No, thanks to this horse’s ass.” Brunhilda had left the room, so Madison continued muttering at Lytton. “You fly off the handle and disown your own blood brother based on something you don’t even know the details of. To add insult to injury you hook up with our mortal enemies—mortal enemies, Lytton! What the f*ck were you thinking?”

Lytton was starting to get pissed now too. “To be honest, Madison, I was thinking of revenge. Put yourself in my shoes. I just discovered who my real father was, but whoops, it’s too late, he’s already f*cking dead—at the hands of my brother.”

Having mostly wiped June’s face clean, Madison stuffed little wads of toilet paper into her nostrils. “Her nose is broken. She needs a plastic surgeon. I can get her into my hospital and keep it hush-hush but we’ll have to get her down the mountain in Brunhilda’s cage. She needs this tooth splinted, too. Listen, Lytton. You don’t know the f*cking story, and why should you? We just met you. Why would we tell you our innermost secrets?”

Before Lytton could protest, Madison continued on, determined to come clean. She sat on the other side of her bloody, unconscious sister, accepting the pot of water that Brunhilda handed her. She used a bathroom towel dipped in water to clean more blood from June’s neck, and Lytton did the same. “There’s no way to tiptoe around it, so I’ll just say it. Your father was molesting me. He did it once when I was young, and I ran. When I hooked back up with Ford later, after I was a nurse, it continued for another week. I thought I was trying to help my brother Speed.”

“Molesting ain’t the word for it,” said Brunhilda angrily.

“Yeah, well, there was another scumbag, Cropper’s sergeant-at-arms, involved in it, too.”

“Don’t displace the guilt, honey,” said Brunhilda.

Lytton fell into a guilt-riddled reverie. He was already thinking of backing off from his association with The Cutlasses. All the air had gone out of his sails once he’d planted those bottles. Seeing Turk engaged in a vulnerable and dangerous act, well, it sort of humanized him. There was no reason for Lytton to ruin Turk’s livelihood. Their natural competition would mean that Turk’s customers would come to Lytton’s dispensary. Who wouldn’t opt for organic over pesticide-laden medicine?

So he was already thinking of calling Saul’s inspection off and allowing A Joint Effort to receive their shipment of crap weed from Sinaloa. No one would ever know the difference. Who cared if it genuinely was sprayed with DDT and paraquat? That was The Bare Bones’ fault for not testing every batch.

Now, hearing Madison’s story, a sea change swept through Lytton. Somehow, his association with The Cutlasses had caused this to happen to his old lady. Either the Ochoas had busted in here and figured out how to turn off his security system, or…

“Madison. You’d tell me if a Bare Boner had anything to do with this.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “A Bare Boner would never have anything to do with this, Lytton! You may have betrayed us, but you’re still blood. Why would any Boner take anything out on a woman? And my sister? Never! Now, let’s get her into Brunhilda’s back seat.”

June came to as they were trying to arrange her in the back seat of the cage. It wrenched Lytton’s heart to see her do the drunk Indian thing, the “where am I?” while looking around herself.

“Oh, God,” Lytton cried in a strangled voice, and wrapped his arms around her tighter than he should have.

“Be careful,” Madison said sternly.

Lytton found himself uttering nonsensical words as he fluttered his palm over her bashed face. “Precious, my only, my love, I love you.”

It was as though the sun came out from behind a cloud when June looked him right in the eye. Through her bruises, seemingly every capillary in her eyeballs busted, she seemed to see him clearly. “Oh, Lytton. I love you so much.”

Brunhilda wasn’t in the mood for sap. “June! Who did this to you?”

Madison waved Brunhilda away. “There’s time for that later. Just get in the driver’s seat. What’s up with Toby? I didn’t know he was here with you.”

Lytton craned his neck to see out the cage’s rear window. Toby was stumbling down the side path from where he’d originally disappeared, only now he was more loose-limbed, more zombie-like. Slowly, Lytton got out of the cage and stood straight. Toby held something out to him. A pair of glasses?

“Helium,” Toby croaked.

Yes, those were Helium Head’s glasses. What about him? “Toby? Where is Helium Head?”

Toby lifted an arm that flapped like a broken bird’s wing. “Helium…he’s dead…in the veg room…”

Now the women fell silent. They didn’t know Helium Head, of course, but they must’ve realized this entire murderous spree extended far wider than anyone had thought. They looked around themselves, as though a serial killer might still be lurking behind a pine tree.

It was Lytton who first snapped into action. “Well, we know which vehicle the murderer is driving. Helium Head’s Prius. I can put a BOLO out on that with my buddies at the station.”