Page 50 of The Loves We Lost

He tips his head in the direction of the main room, where the other men wait. “Let’s question them all, then kill ’em. In the meantime, get Vex to check their phones while we can still use their faces to unlock them. See if we can’t get addresses for York and Rubin. Guessing you want to deal with them tonight.”

I nod. “Yeah. Want to be able to tell my little girl she’s safe.”

King squeezes my shoulder. “Understood. Let’s get this cleaned up then. I figure we should let Spark kill at least one of them. Then I want to burn this place to the ground.”

“Like the rest of the Brotherhood, yeah?”

“I’ll drink to that later,” King says. “Don’t forget your knife.”

And as I slide my knife from the man’s foot, I do it with a promise that I won’t rest until they’re all annihilated.

18

VIOLA

Idon’t know why I can’t sleep. But every whistle, clank, and creak from the old clubhouse sends my mind racing in a thousand directions.

All the old ladies are here tonight, under the guard of a handful of prospects and a few older bikers. Gwen, Clutch’s old lady, finally joined us, and we sat in the bar talking. Noah, one of the prospects, did a great job of keeping drinks flowing. I limited myself to a couple of beers; I had Avery to care for after all.

And I felt bad for her because there were no other children.

Vex had hooked me up to the Wi-Fi, and I’d managed to set her up with a movie on my laptop.

Now I’m lying in the dark, in Miles’s bed, with Avery snoring softly across the room.

Waiting. The clock tells me it’s a little after four.

Is this what it would be like if we’d stayed together? Waiting for him to come home. Hoping he’d be safe.

His sheets smell of him. It would be like that too. Nights spent together. Our girl. Maybe another child or two.

The door silently slips open, and a halo of light appears around Miles as he steps into the room. His boots are in his hand, and he places them by the door before closing it quietly.

I lie there, torn. Do I show I’m awake and worried? Or do I pretend to be asleep?

It’s the first time he’s come in while we’re sleeping, choosing to sleep in Niro’s room the past nights.

The bathroom door clicks shut, and then light seeps around the gaps in the frame. With a deep breath, I follow him.

When I open the door, I’m so shocked by the sight of him, I gasp. Blood is smeared on the side of his face and along his arm. It’s clear he’s tried to clean himself up. There are rips in his T-shirt. His knuckles are bloodied. “Miles,” I whisper. “Oh god. Are you okay?”

His face is as shocked as mine. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

“Are you hurt? Do you need a doctor?”

Miles places his hands on the edge of the sink and drops his head forward. “I’m fine, Vi. It’s not my blood.”

The words stop me cold. I was so worried he was hurt. Shouldn’t I be relieved he’s not?

He stands and looks at me, then begins to strip out of his clothes. Would any words of reassurance make me feel better? Would a gentle touch of his hand make me forget that there’s a human being somewhere hurting because of what Miles clearly did to them?

Miles steps into the walk-in shower and turns on the water before placing both fists against the wall to let it sluice over him. Red-tinged water swirls the drain until it runs clear.

“You gonna ask me whose blood it was?” Miles asks finally as he pours some shampoo onto his hand. He scrubs his scalp before leaning back beneath the spray to rinse it. I watch the way the muscles in his arms flex, the way his abdominals tense into a perfect six pack.

“It’s probably better that I don’t,” I say, hoarsely as he repeats the cycle with conditioner.

“Plausible deniability at its best,” Miles says wearily.