Crux Untamed (Hades Hangmen 6)

Their motherfucking white power tattoos.

“What the hell happened?” Sia asked, clearly shaken up if her voice was anything to go by. Her hand was trembling as she put it to my face. I snapped my head back and watched her eyes fill with tears. “Hush . . . the things they said to you . . .” She tried to take my hand, but I pulled away. She couldn’t right now. I was losing my shit. I needed to calm down. But the minute I thought of that asshole calling me a fucking mongrel, a fucking half-breed, everything I had fought so hard to try to put behind me came rushing to the surface.

It was like I was sixteen again. The fucking target they messed and toyed with for fucking fun until it had ruined my motherfucking life.

“Calm down, Val,” Cowboy ordered from the driver’s seat. My eyes shot to him, and all I could think of were the times when he would be with them. Laughing at me, watching them punch me to the ground.

Turning to Sia, I hissed, “Ask Cowboy who they were.”

The cab was silent. Only broken when Cowboy warned, “Don’t. Don’t fucking do this, Val.”

But I couldn’t stop. I knew what he had done for me. I knew he walked away from all that shit back there and chose me. Fuck, he left his parents after it all happened . . . when I lost them . . . when I fucking fell apart . . . but I couldn’t calm down. All I could see were their white-power tattoos; all I could hear were the fucking racist slurs that fell out of their mouths as easily as breathing. Them, living in their rich-ass mansions, riding their horses, strutting around town like they were motherfucking gods. While we struggled and scrimped, until . . . until—

Cowboy stopped the truck out front of Sia’s house. I slammed out of the door, ignoring the dizziness I was beginning to feel. I moved right then left, unsure how to get these fucking feelings of rage from my head. “Hush.” I saw Sia, hands over her mouth, watching me from the side of the truck.

Cowboy approached me. “Val. I’m fucking serious. Calm down. You’re losing it. It’s fucking dangerous!” Cowboy lurched for me and began dragging me into the house. I heard Sia running behind us.

“Cowboy! Stop! You’ll hurt him!”

But Cowboy didn’t stop until he put my ass down on the couch. It was the only time I ever saw him this serious. When I got like this. His hands pressed down on my shoulders. “Calm, brother. Please . . . just calm the fuck down.” I saw him flick a worried glance to Sia, who was watching, face pale and bewildered, from the door. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t fucking sit still. I threw his hands away and got to my feet.

Cowboy tried to come for me, but I pushed my hand out. Dizziness this time made me reach out for something to stop me from falling. I tasted that familiar metallic taste in my mouth. I turned to see Cowboy moving for me, Sia crying . . . but my eyes rolled back, then it all went black.

*****

“Cowboy! Please, let me get a doctor!” A thick fog clouded my head, a storm raging in my mind as the sound of voices drifted into my ears.

“No, cher,” Cowboy’s voice replied. “He don’t need one.”

I slipped away again. The next time I returned, the sounds in the room were stronger. My eyes felt heavy as I tried to open them. My arms and legs felt like ten-ton weights.

“Val?” Hands moved to my face. “Val, I’m here.” I recognized Cowboy’s voice. I breathed and breathed until the weights in my eyes lessened enough for me to open my eyelids. My vision was blurred at first, but then everything started to clear.

“Val?” Cowboy’s face came into view. I blinked in the room, my head spaced and my body exhausted. I was lying on my side, a pillow under my head. Cowboy was his on knees. His hand was on my head. “Hey, mon frère,” he said, and I took a deep breath. I squinted my eyes, trying to remember what the hell had happened.

I couldn’t remember. Everything was lost to the thick fog I couldn’t clear from my head. I tried to move, but my arms were too weak. My mouth was dry. I licked my tongue out along my lips, and then I heard her.

“Here.” Footsteps came near me and someone lowered themselves to the floor. Jeans were the first thing I saw . . . then I felt a hand press against my cheek. It was trembling. I looked up and saw a beautiful face staring down at me.

Elysia, a break in my mind told me.

Sia.

“Hey, darlin’,” she whispered and ran her fingertips along my cheek. They were shaking. Something in my chest cracked when tears began falling from her eyes.

“He’s good, cher,” Cowboy said. Sia’s eyes squeezed closed. Her breathing hitched, punching a hole into my damn heart. Cowboy’s hand came down on her shoulder. “He’ll be thirsty. He always is afterwards.”

Sia opened her eyes and pulled herself together. Nodding, she shuffled closer to me and placed her hand under my head. I wanted to do it myself, but I had no fucking energy to move. “I . . . I . . .” She looked up at Cowboy.

“He’s not hurt, cher. Just tired. You won’t hurt him by lifting his head.” I listened to Cowboy instruct Sia as though I were watching from a distance. Not present enough to speak or help myself or fucking do anything but let her soft hands touch my skin, the warmth from her palm taking away the coldness that had blanketed my body.

Sia shuffled closer still. She lifted my head from the pillow and onto her lap. I exhaled a long breath, feeling her body heat act as a fire to the muscles and bones that were beginning to ache. My body was shaking. The aftermath of what I now realized was a seizure.

My consciousness began to clear, second by second bringing me back to the here and now. My eyes rolled to look up at Sia, who had simply been stroking my head for a few minutes. When my eyes connected with hers, she gave me a watery smile, then, fucking stealing every ounce of breath I held within my lungs, lowered her head and pressed her lips against mine.

Everything inside me told me to push her away, to move and refuse her help. But I didn’t move. I didn’t even try. I was so fucking tired of running from everyone who tried to know me better . . . I was so fucking tired, period. So I just closed my eyes and let her comfort me. Let the hands I had wanted on me for too long run down my cheeks. And let the lips I had wanted on mine press all over my skin—the color of which was so different to hers.

And I let myself accept that she now knew. She knew what I hid. What should stop me from riding. “Drink, baby,” she said softly. My eyes opened to focus on her face. Sia tilted my head up. She brought the glass to my lips, and I sighed, feeling the cold liquid run down my dry throat. I never moved my eyes from Sia’s. Her lips shook as she helped me drink. When she lowered the glass, I looked over her shoulder to see Cowboy standing against the wall, watching. His arms were crossed over his chest. I couldn’t read his face. But I thought he looked . . . relieved?

“That better, darlin’?” Sia asked. I couldn’t find the strength to speak, but I could finally move my head a fraction. I nodded.

“Let’s get you on the couch,” Cowboy said. My best friend came and lifted me off the floor. This wasn’t unfamiliar. I’d lost count of how many times Cowboy had had to do this over the years. It was why I couldn’t ever fucking let him go.

Why he never walked away.

He moved me to the couch next to the fire. He knew I got cold afterward. Cowboy pulled a blanket over me and turned to start the fire. Sia had beaten him to it. I watched her, numbly, as she piled the logs in the open hearth. I flinched when the fire began to rise, the orange-and-red flames licking at the logs, crackling as they attacked the bark. Cowboy slipped to sit beside me. His hand went to my shoulder and squeezed. I didn’t look at him. Too busy fucking battling the lump in my throat and the memories I had no energy to fight.

My eyes lost focus in the flames, and like they did every time, voices began screaming in my mind . . . loud, agonized screams . . .