Warlord (Anathema Book 1) (42 page)

She rushed at
me. I wondered if she’d hit me, hug me, or just break down and sob.

She did it all.
Her fists pounded my chest while she nuzzled against me. She cried, fresh tears
spilling over her cheeks, staining her freckles, destroying everything inside
me.

When she passed
out unconscious in my arms on the bridge, bleeding and gasping for air and
hysterical, I thought that would be the end of me. My heart broke, and so did
everything else. If she had stopped breathing, I would’ve given her my air. If
her heart ceased beating, I would’ve ripped mine from my chest, just how I
promised to end the traitor destroying Anathema.

Now who was the
traitor? Now who was the one breaking hearts and destroying everything that was
the club, the brotherhood, and our life?

“Please,” she
whispered. For as seductive as it was in bed, I never wanted to see her begging
for anything. “You
can’t
. He thought he could help. He would’ve helped.”

I didn’t answer.
Brew spoke for me.

“Rose, it’s
done,” he said. “I understood this was a possibility. You can’t be here, Bud.
Keep, take her home.”

“No!” Her
fingers dug into my cut. The president patch curled under her hands. I wish
she’d rip the damn thing off. “Please. He’s my brother. I can’t be without
him.”

“You don’t need
me. Not like I ever did anything good for you.” Brew closed his eyes.
“32-11-12. That’s the combination to the safe in my room.”

“Stop it!” Rose
spun to face him. She didn’t leave me though. She pressed against my chest. “I
don’t care what the combination is.”

“I don’t have
much, but I have enough to get you through one, maybe two years of school.”

“I don’t want
it.”

“Well, don’t
give it to Keep. He’ll waste it on drugs and women.”

“Fuck you too.”
Keep shrugged, though his bloodshot eyes revealed he probably didn’t feel the
insult. “I came out here to fucking say goodbye, jackass.”

“Don’t get yourself
killed,” Brew said.

“Speak for
yourself.”

“Stop it!  All
of you!” Rose tangled her hands in her hair. “This can’t be happening. Thorne,
I will do anything you ask. Anything. Please, forgive him. The club will
understand. We will make them understand.”

I don’t know
where I gathered the courage to even talk to her. “We have rules.”

“Change them.”

“It’s in our
code, our chapter laws.”

“You don’t
follow laws. You’re fucking
anarchists
!”

“What do you
want from me? You think I want to do this?”

The words spat
out, rough, terrible, and frightening to someone like her. She flinched away. My
opportunity. Only a coward would try to pretend, try to comfort, and try to
think of a way and a time that she could forgive me.

I had to start
thinking of her as the bullet to dig out instead of the gun aimed at my head.

“Your brother
betrayed Anathema. Anathema kills those who threaten the club. He has to die.”

“What about me?
I got the money. I stole the drugs. Kill me too.”

“You’re not a
member.”

“Then what am
I?”

I stared her
down. “A complication. The security detail that got out of hand.” I pointed at
Brew. “Say your goodbye. Get on the bike. Go back to Pixie.”

“If you do this,
I won’t be at Pixie.”

“Where will you
be? The police station?” I clenched my jaw. “You won’t talk.”

Keep took her
hand. She pushed him away. Her step backwards tangled in the grass and weeds.
She stumbled, and I caught her before she fell. Saved her again, only to damn
her to the rest of the miserable world and the life that destroyed both of us.

“Why are you
doing this?” She whispered. “Don’t I mean anything to you?”

Honesty was more
dangerous than my loaded gun. “You mean
everything
to me. After this is
done, you’re all I’m gonna have left.”

“If he dies, you
won’t have me at all.”

“If he doesn’t,
Anathema will be just as dangerous as it was. The members need to see it, The
Coup need the message. Nobody betrays the club. We let him go, and it’ll be a
sign of weakness. People try to hit the officers, start another war. His death
ends five years of constant bloodshed.”

“His death will
destroy everything that Anathema is.” She wiped away a tear. “It will destroy
you. Us. Anything we might have. Please, Thorne. I trusted you.”

“I never asked
you to trust me.”

I pushed her to
Keep as her quaking sobs nearly wrenched her body in half. Keep pulled her toward
the bike. She fought him to look at me once again. To stare with widened,
beautiful eyes brimming with tears and honesty and goodness and everything I
wanted and everything I needed.

“Thorne,
please
.
I love you!”

The words seared
through me in beautiful agony. I had been shot, stabbed, beaten, and thrown
from my bike, but nothing ached, nothing destroyed me, nothing ground into my
skin and exposed every stinging nerve like those three words spoken by my
personal angel.

The morning
stilled, and the silence exposing my weakness screamed for all the world to
hear.

She didn’t want
me to kill her brother.

If he didn’t
die, Rose’s compassion would kill us all.

I reached for my
gun, flipped the safety off, and fired before Rose could even scream.

The shot echoed.
The violent, unmistakable blast was my song. My voice. My talent. It scared and
frightened, punished and ruled, rendered enemies helpless, and destroyed more
than just the life it took.

Brew stared at
the bullet hole beside his feet. He looked at me, his breathing ragged.

“
Leave
.” The
desperation in my voice scarred me. I didn’t look at Rose, though in that
moment I would’ve done anything just to end her tears. “Get the hell out of
this town. I want you out of the state. On the other side of the country. I’m
letting you live, but no one can know you’re alive. Do you understand?”

“Exile?” Brew
asked.

“Take your bike.
Stop for anything, talk to anyone, and she won’t be able to save you.” I tucked
my gun away. “Hug your sister and get the hell out of here.”

Rose jumped into
his arms. She hugged him tight enough she might have squeezed the bullet out if
we left it in his shoulder. He clutched her just as close, kissed her forehead,
and thanked me with a single glance over her head. Keep eventually reached in
and pulled them apart. He hugged his brother, and Brew slapped a hand against
his cheek.

“Take care of
yourself,” Brew said. “Get clean. Hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah.”
Keep rubbed his eye and pushed his brother away. “Get out of here before the
Boss puts a bullet in your skull.”

I nodded. “Keep,
get Rose in the truck.”

Rose didn’t want
to pull away from her brother. Keep eventually hauled her into his arms and
forced her into the passenger seat. Brew waved, but neither of us bought the
show.

He turned to
face me as I shoved a fist-full of twenties at him.

“What’s the real
fucking reason?” Brew lowered his voice. “Are you that pussy-whipped by my
sister?”

 “Keep talking. She
thinks I spared you. Give me a reason, and I’ll find you a mile up the road.”

“What the hell
are you doing?” He stared at me. “You’ve never shown anyone mercy before.”

“Yeah, well,
first time for everything.”

“Thorne.”

“Temple has the
money to get Blade out of jail. When he’s out, I can’t touch him. Not without
unleashing bloody hell on everyone, including her.” I locked eyes with the only
man who understood my newest obsession. The only man with even more of a reason
to end Blade, a scourge that plagued the world. “You know what has to be done.”

Brew said nothing.
He didn’t need me to tell him. He’d already decided his fate when the bullet punctured
the dirt. He forced a smile and waved to Rose before climbing onto his bike. I
waited for him to flip the ignition and circle back down the road before
getting into the truck.

Rose wept, but
she clutched my hand as soon as I sat. I wiped the tears from her cheek. Her
smile was just as sweet as her voice.

“No one can know
he’s alive,” I said. “You’ll have to pretend. Do you understand?”

She nodded. Keep
gave me a thumbs-up.

“What happened
here stays a secret.”

Rose edged
closer to me, laying her head on my shoulder. With Exorcist dead, and the
blight threatening Anathema culled, I never gave a thought to what I might need
once the bloodlust sated.

Fortunately, I
had an angel to drag me out of hell and lead me back into the light.

She’d probably
end up killing me, but my diva with the heavenly voice would save me from
myself. If only for a while.

“Did you watch
it?”

I hopped onto
the bed without kicking off my heels or slipping out of my new dress—white and
frilly, Lyn ordered. To match the Barbie doll pink cast I demanded while hopped
up on pain-killers at the hospital. It was cute at the time, but six weeks of
plaster later and I couldn’t wait to get rid of the bubblegum pink.

“Well?” I whined.
I checked the phone to make sure the connection hadn’t been lost. I hated the
prepaid phones, but Thorne made me swear to talk only on them. They were more
secure, he said.

“Yeah, I got
it.”

I grinned. “And?”

“And what?”

“What’d you
think?”

I picked at the
keys of my laptop. The YouTube page still loaded on my browser. Keep did a
pretty good job filming the performance, but the cast did nothing to improve my
repertoire. At least I only broke my right wrist. Strumming was easy, but I
didn’t even want to think of breaking my left hand. I doubted I would have
survived the past few weeks.

My stomach
dropped.

Not what I
wanted to think about.

Not anymore.

“Brew,” I said. “Seriously.
What did you think?”

“Christ, Rose.
Don’t say my name.”

“No one’s here.
Don’t worry.”

He grunted.
“Where are you?”

I glanced over
the perfect little cottage bedroom. The creamy white walls, lacey curtains, and
thick crimson bedspread were more Martha Stewart than Motorcycle Club. But it
was bigger than the room at Pixie, much prettier than my apartment, and had a
perfect sunroom where I could record songs.

“Thorne’s
house.”

“Great. You’re his
old lady now.”

“That I am.” I
gave him a moment before whining again. “Come on. Stop teasing me.”

“You were good.”

“Just good?”

“Great. What do
you want me to say? You always do good. Where were you playing?”

“Sorceress. Lyn
had to redo the interior after the—”

I flinched as he
swore. “Thorne has you stripping?”

“Jesus, no. I
was just playing a set while she danced.”

“...And you
didn’t think to record that too?”

“Very funny.” I
closed the laptop. “So where are you?”

“I can’t tell
you that.”

I still tried anyway.
Just knowing where he was eased the worry.

Some of it.

“Well, if you were
going to buy me a present, what would you get me?”

Brew hesitated.
He exhaled. Sharp. His shoulder still must’ve hurt him, especially after all
riding around the country. He never complained.

“How about a
voodoo doll?” He said.

“Sounds exotic.”
New Orleans then. I always wanted to go, but I couldn’t visit my brother. It
would be a long, long time before I could see him again.