Page 13

Thirteen

ruined

chapter-seperator

J ace found us some clothes to wear that weren’t covered in blood and gore. We almost looked normal in them too. Almost human again.

There were two vehicles to choose from besides the one I arrived in. What I knew that Jace didn’t was that we couldn’t go back, because of Griz. Jace wanted me to drive a different car for his own reasons that I couldn’t spare the brain power to figure out his motivations. Some secrets need to stay buried.

Because my mind was too busy adding up things I never bothered to before. Torture and mental anguish can be very distracting, but all those tingly scratches at my brain were trying to tell me something, trying to wake me up, finally. The truth clawing its way to the surface.

By now the feds were probably taking the MC apart, searching the clubhouse in vain for all that money they’d never found, not even with infiltration and a good deal of subterfuge. Cops are clever like that, but you’re never the cleverest person in the room. Even Jace isn’t as clever as he thinks. I will always love him; I know that now more than before. I can’t hurt him, but I can’t trust him either. Some monsters you love from a distance.

As he checked the back of the Bronco, I took the hypodermic I’d palmed inside before we stepped out of all that horror and plunged it into his neck. I knew for a fact the contents worked faster at that delivery point. In fewer seconds than it took to register the confusion and surprise in his eyes, he was off to lalaland. To catch some heavy zzzs with rip van winkle. He’d be out for hours; awareness would return long before he could regain use of his body. I needed him to know how it felt for all those years in the hell he consigned me to. Betrayal for betrayal.

Timing it just right meant his body naturally slumping over did most of the work for me in getting his much larger form into the vehicle. My monster temporarily tamed.

I positioned his body fully inside and covered him with a blanket so at first glance it wouldn’t look weird. Nobody was looking for me; nobody ever did…in fifteen years, my picture was never on a milk carton. But the feds would be looking for him shortly if they weren’t already. Some predators are too dangerous to leave free.

He’d probably be pissed about leaving his bike, but they’d be looking for it too, after they failed to find the money.

When Honey asked me all those years ago if I knew where it was, I lied to her. My blind love for the man snoring in the back, as I tore up the miles between that horror we left in our wake and my next destination, made me feel justified in that lie. I always knew where the money was, not that I could ever tell anyone.

It isn’t where Jace buried it anymore; that was the first stop I made before I hit the clubhouse a few days ago.

Nobody will ever find it; it vanished, those millions, the same way Honey did. Just another girl who was never reported missing. Another angel lost to the darkness.

It’s because Jace thought he knew where she was all this time, but he was wrong. I served her punishment for wanting to rat on him; I served it as penance for what I did to her. For my part in that tragedy, I paid the price; I’ll pay it for however long I have left topside.

As I tossed those stacks of hundred-dollar bills as kindling into the fire, I was flooded by too few beautiful memories of my sister. Do you ever get enough, if you truly love someone?

In our spot, the spot where she passed, I sat frozen staring into the sparks shooting off into the dark. An echo of memory of another night when the world was set wrong. Old money burns up quickly; if only revenge could be meted out as quickly. But everything takes time, especially healing.

As I destroyed one of the things responsible for why she died, I contemplated the nature of greed, the nature of never having enough. I was always so greedy for Jace, for whatever scraps of affection he tossed me when he wasn’t using and scoring more drugs. Some hungers can never be satisfied.

The only thing you can do with regret is make damn certain you don’t create anymore, that you try to make amends in any way you can and move on. But some sins leave permanent marks.

It wasn’t bad enough she vanished; they had to smear her name, make her the reason Luke went to prison when she would never betray her daddy. He’d earned her loyalty, and I don’t know why they arrested him first except maybe they couldn’t find Jace and wanted him to talk. I’m not an expert on all people French, but I know that man never would turn on one of his kids.

I love Jace even still, but he is the reason his sister is dead. He’s the reason I spent the last fifteen years in a hell both mental and physical. Some loves are meant to destroy us.

You see, there’s only one way those men, those Jackals, could have found us in that remote patch of bayou on that night so long ago. Only two other people in the world knew about it, knew of Honey and I’s love of spending time there together, and one of them is serving life in prison for a crime Jace committed.

It wasn’t a random happenstance or any coincidence that an unmarked van pulled up on two girls in the heat of an argument and in full-on panic mode. It was why Jace exploded when I overheard him and Griz speaking before I left the clubhouse.

I didn’t really believe I could kill however many Jackals would be inside that warehouse, but my hunch was right that Jace would follow me and totally could. That he would want to tie up as many loose ends as possible. Anyone who might have a perspective on what went down all those years ago and shed a different light on an incident that coincided with it. Two women disappeared; you would think law enforcement would have put two plus two together at some point by now, but no. They want to find the money that no longer exists.

After all, the friends who helped him rob that armored truck have never ratted him out. It’s good to be the last man standing; at least that way you know your secret is safe.

I have to try hard not to forget that part. To keep it in the forefront of my mind when dealing with the man I still love. He’s more dangerous than any gator in that bayou where Honey died. The most beautiful monsters always are.

I have several more vials of that drug with me to keep Jace under control until I can decide what to do with him. Until I decide if love is enough to overcome the darkness we share.

As I head north, watching the mile markers flip by faster and faster, I’m reminded that no matter how far you drive, you can’t outrun what’s inside you. The real monsters don’t hide under beds—they ride shotgun, tucked into the corners of your heart where love and hate blur together.

Some circles need to be closed. Some monsters need to face what they created.

And as I glance in the rearview at Jace’s sleeping form, I wonder which of us is truly the monster now.

Maybe we all are.

Maybe that’s exactly what love is supposed to be, pretty and wrecked all at the same time.