Lana demonstrated on Preacher and then each of the instructors sat in front of one of the students and directed them step by step.
“What in the world is going on here?” Blythe’s voice was a mixture of amusement, outrage and resignation.
“Please tell me you are not teaching these children to use a garrote,” Airiana, Benito’s adopted mother demanded. She shook her head and lifted her eyes to the sky. “That is the last thing that boy needs to know how to do.”
“Ice, Storm and Ink were teaching the girls to pick-pocket,” Blythe said.
“Naturally,” Absinthe said, coming up behind them. “They have to be able to take away a weapon, keys, anything that will help them escape. They have to feel empowered. That’s what turned us around. Especially Jimmy. He really responded to feeling as if he might be able to control something, anything. That’s what Czar did for us. That’s what we are doing for them.”
Absinthe deliberately moved back away from the teens so the two women would follow him. “We make certain to tell them never to use what they learn outside of defending themselves from predators. We tell them Czar is the boss. He’s the go-to man with the answers. We don’t go outside our families. But they have to feel empowered. These are children who have had their parents and brothers and sisters murdered. They were brutalized. Their innocence torn from them. They can’t get that back as much as you want them to. You couldn’t reach them your way. You asked us to help you. We’re trying to do that. Give us the chance.”
Blythe took a deep breath and looked across the field. Jimmy and Emily were throwing rocks at a wall with holes in it, showing Zoe and Airiana’s two girls what they could do. The girls immediately pleaded to try. Zoe managed to get one rock through a hole. Jimmy jumped up and down and smiled at her.
“He’s never smiled before. Never.” She bit her lip. “Okay. I’ll trust Czar’s judgment.”
Airiana sighed. “Benito is a little demon child already. I suppose Max will just have to watch over him. He’s going to laugh about this.” She shook her head and walked off the field, following Blythe.
The moment they were gone, the Torpedo Ink members looked at Absinthe. He gave them the thumbs-up.“Wanted to talk with you for a minute, Steele, if you don’t mind,” Absinthe said. He squeezed Scarlet’s hand and then let go of that lifeline, patting her bottom, shaping it for just a moment, wishing she was naked and he had the comfort of his kiska, his pussycat. He needed that about now. “Go inside with Breezy, baby. This won’t take long.”
Scarlet’s green gaze drifted over his face and then she nodded. Breezy was born into the club life and she was the wife of the vice president of Torpedo Ink. Her man nodded toward the bar and touched her face. She smiled at Scarlet immediately, hooked arms with her and went right up the stairs chattering as if they were old friends.
Absinthe walked away from the bottom of the stairs, not wanting to be overheard by the other members of his club. It was going to be difficult enough to say the things that needed saying to Steele, but he had to do it. The two went around the corner of the bar. Darkness had fallen, shrouding the night in a blanket of fog.
“What’s up?”
“Hard to bring this up but can’t put it off any longer. I keep having these flashbacks. They’re getting bad and it put Scarlet in some danger the other night. Savage too.”
“We’re all dealing with post-traumatic stress, Absinthe,” Steele said, his hand going back to massage the nape of his neck. “It would be impossible not to. You’ve got the biggest brain, you know that.”
Absinthe wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t the smartest man in the room. “Demyan and I had experimented with holding a path open between our minds. You know we were pretty strong at connecting with others. But the two of us were really strong together. We worked on it all the time.”
Absinthe felt sick. He broke out in a sweat. He shouldn’t have let Scarlet leave his side. She somehow managed to quiet the chaos that reigned in his brain when he thought back to that day—that horrible day when he felt everything his brother was feeling. The pressure in his chest was so tremendous he nearly went to his knees. He pressed both palms into the wide cement planter that wrapped around the back of the bar, trying to take deep breaths.
“I was supposed to hold him. Hold the bridge. I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough.” He confessed the truth in a rush. “I blamed you, but it wasn’t you. It was me. I lost him that day. I was so angry with everyone for so much, for keeping me alive after the kittens died and then when I lost Demyan. I knew it was me. All this time, I wanted to blame you, Steele, but it was me. I’m sorry, man. I should have told you.”