Damnable Grace (Hades Hangmen 5)

And Christ, but I saw her too.

Chapter Twelve

AK

I pulled my bike to a stop outside my cabin. I lowered the scarf from my face and wiped two days’ worth of dirt from my cheeks. I kicked my leg off the bike and pounded through the door to my cabin and into the kitchen. “You’re back,” Ash said as he came into the room. I arced my hand to the back of his head and brought him in to my chest.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” he replied nonchalantly, then ducked his head shyly like he always did. I pulled a smoke from my pack and offered one to him. He took it and I lit up, waiting for him to say whatever it was he was building up to.

“I’ve been to Flame’s the past two nights,” he eventually said. I looked up at the little fucker’s face. You’d think my psycho brother had just given this kid the world.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He tried to hide his smile. “I stayed over last night. Madds made up a bed for me in the spare room, before I even had a chance to say I’d just come back here.”

“Flame good with that?”

He nodded. “Even stayed up with me for a bit after Madds had gone to bed. He didn’t say much, but he showed me all his knives. He even had a drink with me.” He shrugged. “We mostly sat in silence, but . . .” He took a deep breath. “It was . . . good. You know?”

“I do,” I said and felt my fucking still-tight chest loosen some. Flame had fucking listened to me, the asshole.

“You get the drop done?” Ash moved to the fridge and pulled me out a beer. I took it, then went to my liquor cabinet for my bottle of bourbon—I needed something stronger. But it wasn’t there. “You took my bourbon?”

“No,” he replied. I raised my eyebrow. “You lying?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’d tell you if I did.” I frowned when I saw my new bottle of Patrón was also missing. “Tequila’s gone too.”

I grabbed the bottle of Jack and took a few sips. I closed my eyes as it burned going down.

“Maybe Vike took it?” Ash offered as I slumped down at the table. “He was around here some when you were gone.” He blushed. “He was pissed you left without him. So was Flame.” I nodded, knowing that would be true. I never went on any drop without Flame and Vike. But . . . shit . . . after the mindfuck that was two nights ago, I needed some alone time on the road.

I got to my feet, about to go shower when my cell vibrated in my pocket. “Fuck!” I snarled. “Can’t I get a fucking minute?”

I opened the screen as I entered my bedroom. There was a text from Ky.

KY: You back yet?

ME: Just.

KY: You might wanna get to the clubhouse. Right the fuck now.

What the fuck had happened? A second text came through.

KY: Your cold-turkey shit seems to have backfired.

I stared at the text, and my stomach lurched.

Phebe.

ME: On my way.

Throwing on a fresh shirt, I flew out of my bedroom, down the hallway and into the kitchen. “I need to get to the clubhouse,” I said to Ash.

The kid jumped up and grabbed the truck’s keys off the counter. “I’ll drive.”

I slammed out of my front door, wondering what the fuck had happened to Phebe. What the hell did Ky mean by “your cold-turkey shit seems to have backfired”?

Ash slid into the driver’s seat and switched on the engine. Clearly sensing my urgency, he gunned it out of our cabins’ clearing and onto the dirt path. “Everything okay?” Ash asked as we raced up the hill.

“No fucking idea,” I replied, my hands fisting on my lap. I tried to think about what the hell Phebe could have been doing in two days. Vike and Flame hadn’t said shit, but then again, those fuckers weren’t speaking to me on account of the fact I took off without them.

We pulled in at the back of the clubhouse. The place was packed—usual weekend shit. Rows of bikes stood outside, and loud music pumped from the main bar.

I smashed through the back door, following the music. The bar was thick with smoke, sluts and drink. I scanned the room and saw a hand waving in the air. Ky was up on his feet in the far corner. I pushed a fuck-ton of hangers-on out of my goddamn way as I plowed to where he stood.

As my path cleared, I saw Styx and Mae around a table. Lilah sat nursing a glass of wine, a fucking horrified look on her face. A chair slammed back, and suddenly Flame was in my face. The brother smashed his hands on my chest and pushed me back. I steadied myself. I knew I’d get this shit from him.

“What the fuck?” he snarled. Maddie reached up to grab his hand. Smiler, Tank and Bull looked on from the next table. Beauty and Letti were watching something across the bar, ignoring Flame. Solomon and Samson—the brothers Rider had brought from the cult—were there too. They always were lately.

I held up my hands. “I get it. You’re pissed.”

Flame’s head twitched in response. I stepped closer. “I just . . .” I shook my head. “Fuck, I just needed to be alone for a couple days. Okay?”

Flame’s focus was on the floor, not meeting my eyes, but I saw his shoulders lose some of their tension. “Don’t do it again. Prick.” He moved out of my way, and I passed him to get to Ky. Styx had appeared by his side.

“Take a fucking look.” Ky pointed across the room. I ran my gaze over every fucker in my way. Then finally, I saw a flash of red hair, and my eyes nearly bulged out of my head.

“What the fuck?” I snapped, stepping to the side to see better. The new angle only caused me to lose even more of my shit. Across the room was Phebe. Only she wasn’t the Phebe I’d rescued from the Klan, nor the bitch that had come to me two nights ago and fucked me better than I’d ever been fucked in my entire life.

This whore in front of me was at the bar, slim arms draped all over some asswipe who was minutes away from meeting the boatman with no fucking coins on his eyes. My hands shook as they formed into fists at my side. Phebe’s hair was loose down her back, washed and fucking beaming red. And it was all curled and shit. Makeup was plastered all over her face, bright-red lipstick on her full lips. But the war paint wasn’t what had me seething. It was what she was wearing that had me nearly bursting a fucking capillary.

She was wearing a flimsy white top that was almost fucking see-through. Her nipples were showing underneath. And it was tied up, showing her flat stomach and perfectly outlining her tits. Her skirt was long, but even from here I could see her legs through the material. And I could see her panties underneath. Or what looked more like a motherfucking thong. She threw her head back, and her laugh rang out even over the pounding rock music.

“Bitch snuck out without us knowing,” Ky said. Styx narrowed his eyes at Phebe making a fucking idiot of herself. Even the club sluts were looking at her as if she was pathetic. “Apparently Beauty came to visit yesterday and told her about the clubhouse on a weekend. Wanted to warn Phebe about what she might find here. Li had told her she could come tonight.” Ky shook his head. “Came to get her, only to find her already gone.” He paused. “As well as the fourth bottle of Jack from my bar this week. Turns out she wasn’t scared of the idea of being here. The bitch wanted it.”

I looked back at Phebe. Fuck, she was trashed. Her arms were still all over the same prick at the bar, but when I looked harder, I could see the bitch could barely stand. She was falling all over, her heavily made-up eyes rolling around in her fucking head.

Then it hit me. “The bourbon and Patrón,” I said out loud. If Ky and Styx were paying me any attention, I didn’t see. “Fuck!” I spat. I thought back to the night she’d fucked me. I’d been drunk myself, but I could remember tasting liquor on her lips.

“She’s turned from smack to spike.” I felt that goddamn trickle of familiarity run down my spine.

Back here again.