Page 27

TWENTY-SIX

REVENGE; BEST SERVED PIPING HOT

NASH

I grin and watch Indy retrieve her hatchet from the target, grumbling to herself the entire way despite the fact that she was just shy of a bullseye.

She’s improved so much.

It’s only been a week, but Indy has picked up on everything we’ve taught her so easily, it’s just another thing solidifying that she’s ours.

Indy took part in her first torture, and murder. She helped with disposal, and she rode with us to help with the body dump. Which brought out a lot of unexpected emotions in our girl, and led to an unplanned field trip.

We went to the ravine.

After Indy, we had to find a new dump site that was even more secluded, but still had enough animal activity to do what we needed it to. Clay managed to find something relatively quickly, and we decided talking to our omega about where she was found wasn’t a great idea.

Then Bram decided the way to show Indy how he felt, and prove that he was in this for the long haul, was murder. Which is very true to Bramley Ambrose across the board, but still. Murder meant disposal, disposal meant dump site, and for her, it meant something entirely different.

She wanted to see where they left her.

I’m not sure why, outside of being some sort of cathartic, healing sort of thing, but when we got there, I don’t think it went the way Indy planned.

The first thing she did, was throw up.

All the different scents, the primary one being rotting flesh, Indy spent the first ten minutes tossing her cookies on the side of the road, and that was before we went down there to sate her morbid curiosity.

We weren’t down there for long, enough for her to see, to get an idea of what happened to her and how Bram got her out of there, and I think it was a rather rude awakening that she didn’t need, because she’s been a little different ever since.

A good different, but still.

Indy asked us to teach her everything we know about being murderers and if we were a different breed of male, I’m sure that would have come across as offensive. We aren’t, though, so that demand was followed by sex in the front yard because she couldn’t wait, then we made a list of all the things we know how to do that are both murdery, and beneficial for our omega to learn.

The list lasted all of three seconds before Indy told us it was all or nothing, and since we are absolutely wrapped around her little finger, we told her everything we could possibly think of, and she’s been learning most of it over the last week.

We’ve discovered that Indy is shit with a gun, ok with some sort of blunt object, and she really likes sharp, pointy things, which was really cute, and very scary.

The omega in her was very drawn to the pretty knives but the part of her that must be where the scent match lives, it was scarily in tune with Bram’s weapons of choice.

She’s stuck with those mostly, but she’s working on everything in hopes of being useful next time we go hunting. Because yes, our omega has demanded we take her with us every single time we do, and I can’t say that I really blame her since it stems from a lifetime of dealing with the Hardens in a way none of us can imagine.

But tapping into her inner blood lust isn’t the only thing we’ve seen in our sweet little omega.

Indy loved us before, she wanted all of us, and to be around us as much as possible, but whatever change she experienced, whether it was tackling one of her biggest demons, or finally bonding as a pack, I think she’d be content with finding a way to climb inside all three of us and stay there forever.

Always has to be touching us, needs to know where we are or else she gets anxious, and she’s been making the three of us sleep in her nest with her every night, and while it still sends us sky high that she wants us in her space, we are not small men, and that closet is cramped as fuck. We won’t tell her that, though. Never in a million years. We will all just grin and bear the tiny space and stiff necks until we—probably Clayton—can convince her to move upstairs with us, and pick out a space for me and Bram to build her a new, Ambrose sized nest.

Either way, we’re happy.

All four of us. Happy. Even Bramley. Well, he’s as happy as that asshole gets, and that’s saying something for sure.

Watching quietly from my place against a tree, I follow our girl as she gets into position, makes sure her stance is exactly like we showed her, then sends that hatchet sailing through the air before it lands dead center of her target.

“Yes!” She pumps her fist in the air and does a little dance, her hands above her head, swinging her hips like she’s hula hooping while turning herself in a circle. “You are a badass, Indigo Rae!”

“I agree.” Indy jumps about ten feet into the air, spinning herself to face me as I push off the bark and walk over. “That was a great shot, honey, but we need to work on your senses if you don’t want to get yourself caught in a sneak attack.”

She rolls her eyes and smiles. “Yeah, yeah.” Then she puckers and waits for me to kiss her, so I do. “If it’s one of you doing the attacking, totally different. I want that. You can jump me any time.”

I chuckle as I wrap my arms around her, smiling into the top of her head as she rubs her face all over my chest.

“You warm enough?”

Indy nods.

“Hydrated?”

She nods again, hugging me tight while pushing her nose into my armpit. I will never understand that.

I just got done helping Bram load the box truck for an overdue order from the butcher shop, and to anyone else, I probably smell like ass. To my omega? Absolutely perfection. When we sweat, and get all worked up, and stink to high heaven, we smell like home to her, and the way she soaks it up is both adorable, and a little disturbing. Then again, I’m not an omega, and I’d keep my face shoved in her pussy twenty four seven if I could, so I don’t really have any room to talk.

“Still up for going to Rex and Ezekiel’s for dinner?” Indy tenses, her arms going stiff around my waist, and I have to stop myself from laughing because of how much anxiety that simple question elicits. “They just want to spend time with you, honey.”

“I know,” she mumbles, the vibrations and her breath tickling me enough to wiggle out of this position. To which Indy snickers in response. “Big, bad, bearded alpha with ticklish pits.”

I roll my eyes as she looks up at me with a smirk. “And we never would have known if it wasn’t for your affinity of crawling up in there every chance you get.” Grabbing the strings of her hood, I tug her closer and press a kiss to her forehead. “They love you already, Indy.”

“I know.” She starts gnawing at the inside of her cheek. “I just, something about this feels different.”

“Than meeting Nan? If you can handle her, you can handle literally anyone on the planet because she is one of the…” My words trail off as I see movement in the woods, something big moving fast, and heading in our direction. “Get inside.”

Indy straightens up, her anxiety spiking as she turns and starts frantically searching in the same direction I’m looking. “What? Why? What’s happening? Why do I need to go inside, Nash? I?—“

“Now, honey. Get inside and stay there until I come get you.”

“I’m not leaving you out here alone. No way.”

Growling because I refuse to bark at her but will if I have to, I posture up, stepping in front of her for whatever is getting ready to steamroll us, then blow out a breath when I see the supposed threat emerge from the tree line. “It’s just Titus.”

Which doesn’t put Indy at ease at all, she hasn’t met him yet, not even in passing like with Rex and Ezekiel, and since that fucker is bigger than Bramley, I doubt this impromptu and super rare visit is going to go well.

Especially as he gets closer, and the blood on his shirt and pants becomes a hell of a lot clearer.

“What’s going on?” I ask as I grab Indy’s hand and jog to meet him. “Are you hurt?”

Tus shakes his head and quickly signs, Nan .

Which is enough to have my pulse flying through the roof. “What do you mean, what’s wrong with her?”

We need to go. Where’s Bramley?

“Should have left the shop by now, should be home any minute.” I search those ice blue eyes, even lighter and more severe than my alpha’s. “What the hell is going on, Titus?”

Call him. He grabs my arm and starts dragging me toward the front of the house. Call him now, Nash. He needs to go straight to Nan.

“Nash?” Indy’s voice is small and shaky as she tries to keep up with us. “What’s…” She swallows hard as Titus looks back at her but she doesn’t let it throw her off. “Is there a problem at Mona’s?”

“Do you have your phone, honey?” I ask, grateful we got her one after the shit with Hall, and that Clayton has been showing her how to use it all week. Indy nods as I open the door of my truck and hoist her inside. “Call Bramley and tell him to meet us at her place.”

She blinks those wide, indigo eyes at me but nods. “Okay.” Then she goes ramrod straight as soon as she realizes she’s sandwiched between me and a massive, mute alpha that she hasn’t even seen let alone been introduced to.

But she does what I asked, then sits glued to me while I haul ass down the back roads that Titus must have ran down, just to get to our house. Which raises more questions than I already have, like where is his phone and truck, and why the hell is he covered in so much blood?

Bramley beat us here.

I don’t know how, but he did, and when we fly up Nan’s driveway to see the fucking box truck parked in it, right behind Rex’s diesel, the way my insides twist is not a good sign.

The fact that Indy bails out of my truck and races toward the house, that’s not great either.

Clayton meets her at the door, practically catches Indy in a bear hug, and when I clear the porch behind her, my stomach pitches when I see tears in his eyes, and the stains on his cheeks.

“Clay?” I ask, almost in warning. “What…”

He shakes his head as Titus pushes past us, and he holds our girl tight as she wraps her arms and legs around him like a koala in a tree.

“Clayton,” I growl, taking a step toward him. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Don’t make me say it, Nash.” He barely gets the words out before a few fresh tears roll down his face. “I can’t.”

Based on the way he’s acting, and the violent emotions running through our bond that I’m trying to ignore, I know what’s going on, but I don’t believe it. I refuse to believe it. I will not fucking accept it, not a snowball’s chance in hell, but when something sharp rockets through our pack bond, I shoot through the front door, run through the house, and don’t stop until I find Bramley.

And when I do, when I rush out the busted back door and into the backyard that’s now stained a crimson red, my knees give out, and I collapse on the ground before I get to him.

There is blood everywhere.

The porch, the swing and chairs, the stone path that leads to Gramma Lily’s garden. Spray and spatter are all over the fence, fanning across Pap’s shed, and there are thick trails, drag marks painted red that lead to my alpha.

My alpha who is in a heap on the ground, soaked in the same blood that seems to be flowing in an endless river out toward the pasture and barns, and when I see what happened, really absorb what I’m looking at, it feels like time stands still.

Ezekiel is on his knees a few feet away, his arms wrapped around Zeke, rocking him while he tries holding him back, keeping him in place while he screams and cries. Rex is maybe a foot in front of them, barking orders at anyone who’ll listen, Titus dropping next to him, trying to do what his dad is asking but even from here I can see the way his hands are shaking. Arrow and Walker come running out of the house, their arms full of god knows what, and I sit there and watch as they crouch down, giving them all that shit while they jump in, too.

My eyes move from them, to Bramley, back and forth a few times before I manage to finally drag myself to my alpha, knowing in my gut there’s nothing I can do for him, but needing to be there all the same.

“Bram,” I whisper, reaching out to touch his arm, my eyes welling when he doesn’t move. “Bramley, honey, no.”

Those ice blue eyes look right through me as his head swings in my direction, my heart breaking as it does, and I can’t help the way I immediately start to cry.

So much fucking blood.

And my alpha is drenched in it.

“Bramley,” my voice cracks as I say his name, my fingers curling over the sleeve of his flannel jacket, twisting the fabric until my knuckles are white. “Honey, please?—“

“They’re going to burn for this.”

I nod because it’s all I can muster, then I get as close as possible, wanting to hold him so badly, while not wanting to push.

“Fucking burn, Nash.” He chokes on the words and swipes at his cheek, smearing blood across his face as he looks down into his lap. “I will kill every… Those bastards, they are going to pay.”

I sit by helplessly as I watch my alpha fall apart, as Bramley Ambrose, The Butcher of Obsidian Falls, cradles his grandmother’s lifeless body in his lap, and, for the first time since I’ve known him, he starts to cry.

They killed Nan. Murdered her, fucking slaughtered her, for no goddamn reason.

We can only hope that all of this blood isn’t just theirs. Mona Ambrose wouldn’t have gone down without a fight, and I’d put money on her trying to take every motherfucker stupid enough to tangle with her down in the process.

Fuck.

I look behind me and see Clayton trying his hardest to comfort Indy, our omega sobbing as she takes a few steps toward us but shakes her head, turns and runs back into the house.

Movement to my left has me turning in time to see Titus coming toward us, Pap in his arms, the old man just as bloody as his mate, and judging by the tubing and medical shit hanging off of him, he’s about to join her.

He wanted to be near her , Titus signs once he’s seated next to Bram, holding Pap as close to Nan as possible. Said he wasn’t going to leave without her .

Bramley reaches out and takes his grandfather’s hand, squeezing it tight before he presses a kiss to his knuckles, then closes it around Nan’s and places it on his Pap’s chest just as Zeke crawls over and grabs his free hand.

I watch as Pap’s chest pumps hard, his lungs working on overdrive just to get the tiny little breaths he’s taking into them. Every rise and fall gurgles, and he winces in pain, but his fading green eyes shift from Zeke, to Titus, then Bramley and back again before he lifts Nan’s hand higher, right over his heart and a faint smile pulls at his wrinkled lips.

“Gonna hafta go now, boys,” he says, coughing up a mouthful of blood, but he doesn’t let it slow him down. “Mona is waiting. Waiting with Lily and George, little Maevey girl and our Dani. Gonna go set a spell with them for a while, so it’ll be up to you now.” Pap’s eyes glaze over, his breath’s coming faster now, the gurgle turning into a rattle that we’re all too familiar with. “You take this land back from that Harden scum. Make them choke on your vengeance, and paint this town red with their blood.”

He pulls Nan’s hand closer, his grip tightening, and it’s the last thing he does before the light fades completely from Maurice Ambrose’s eyes, everyone’s Pap taking his last breath while leaving us with words I know these three are going to take as a sacred commandment, and make good on it.

Bram roughly wipes his cheeks, his grief barely rising above his anger but when he looks up at me, that’s all I feel, and it’s why I reach out and grab the back of his neck, and force my alpha to let me comfort him. After a few seconds, he does.

Bramley turns his face into the crook of my neck, hugging me just as hard as I’m holding him, and he allows himself a few moments to openly grieve his loss, and find the comfort he needs in my arms.

“I love you,” I whisper, the only words I can think of that would mean anything right now. “I’ve got you, honey.”

We sit like that for what feels like an eternity, long enough that Rex and Ezekiel have to get the boys to let go of their grandparents, and that’s when the other fucking shoe drops.

“Indy’s gone!” Clay screams as he comes racing out of the house. He’s frantic, panicked, and there’s a huge fucking gash on his forehead that says our girl didn’t go for a stroll to cope with her feelings. “She’s fucking gone!”

Those words play over in my head, even as my body moves on autopilot, and I swear to god if we don’t get her back, Bramley will burn everything down, and he won’t give a shit who gets in his way.

And I can promise you, I’ll be standing right next to him with a box of matches, fueling that fire until it’s so hot, we scare the devil out of West Virginia, and send him right back to hell where he belongs.