Crux Untamed (Hades Hangmen 6)

Ky’s eyes narrowed. I thought he would argue. Forbid it. But when he looked back at me, saw my face and desperate eyes, he just sighed. “Fine. They go.” He glanced to Styx, who nodded once in approval. “You can go tomorrow morning, not before. I want to get the place checked over first.” He rubbed his eyes. “Plus Grace and Li will wanna see you before you go. Spend some time with them tonight, yeah?”

“Deal.”

Ky turned to Cowboy and Hush . . . Hush who was sitting again, eyes boring into the tabletop, a venomous expression on his face. “I’m speaking to you two in ten minutes in church. Only you two.” Ky pointed to Styx. “Prez will be there too. We’re gonna have a fucking talk.”

My heart beat fast as Hush still didn’t react to my brother’s harsh order. Cowboy spoke for them both. “Understood, VP.”

“Get back to the cabin, Sia,” Ky said, and I turned on my heel. “Ash, drive her back.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

I was going home tomorrow.

Ash drove me back to Lilah and Ky’s cabin. As we headed down the dirt path, I turned from staring at the vast greenness of the Hangmen-owned woodland and asked the kid, “Why d’you wanna join the Hangmen?”

Seeming startled by my question, Ash looked at me from the corner of his eye. “Because they were the best thing that ever happened to me, ma’am.” A small smile pulled on his lips. “That, and my brother is here.” I could have sworn I saw the kid’s eyes glisten, and he swallowed deep. “They saved me. I get why you don’t like it much around here. But for me, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

I felt my chest warm at how fondly he looked upon this place. I might have been that way once, if my poppa hadn’t abandoned me, sending me packing to my aunt’s ranch, way across town, as far as possible from him, all for the sake of this precious club. But then I thought of Styx and Ky, so young at the time, but risking everything to come get me from Mexico . . .

I sighed. “They once saved me too, kid.” I glanced back out the window. I could accept that if it weren’t for the Hangmen I might not be here today. And I knew Ky was right. It was only because of who my brother was that I was saved. The Hangmen were powerful. But my poppa had soured me too much to truly accept this club. I walked a shaky line. I both loved and loathed this place. Like the men it housed, it was both good and evil.

“We would save you again if you needed it,” Ash announced confidently, melting my bruised heart.

When the truck stopped, I stared at my brother’s cabin and the piece of happiness that resided within its four walls. Then, leaning over the console, I pressed a kiss on Ash’s cheek. “Whatever you do, Ash, don’t lose that sweetness you still got within you. Don’t let Hades pollute it with the kind of darkness he can bring.”

He seemed confused at my statement. So I asked, “You got a girl, Ash?”

I didn’t understand why that question had Ash gripping the wheel like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. But I added, “Don’t fuck sluts. Wait for a girl you love. A kid like you is worth so much more than the whores that infest this place.” I didn’t wait to hear a response. Didn’t think he’d even give me one. Instead I exited the truck and went into the empty cabin to pack before Lilah returned with Grace.

Suddenly, my anxiety calmed.

I was going home.

*****

“Michelle!” I stumbled around the dark room I had woken up in. I searched for my best friend. My head was thudding. I had never had a migraine before, but I thought maybe I was having one now. “Michelle?” My heart beat an insane rhythm in my chest as I tried to clear the fog from my brain. I fell against the wall and put my hand to my head. I tried to search through the memories of last night. Of what I had seen . . .

Michelle . . .

My eyes snapped open, and I released a strained groan. I slumped down the wall, my ass hitting the floor just as the door opposite me opened. I flinched at the sliver of light that escaped from outside. Cold shivers broke out along my skin even though the room felt like a hotbox, the air thick and stale from the stagnant heat.

“Mi rosa negra,” a deep voice said affectionately as someone walked through the open door and into the room that was my jail.

I pushed the mental cloud far enough from my head to utter one word: “Juan.”

“Si, bella.” Juan—or as his men and everyone in this small village knew him, Garcia—came toward me. He stopped, towering over me, and then lowered down to a crouch. His incredible looks still took my breath away . . . but they soured to an ugly facade when I thought of last night, or whatever night it was when I found out who he was . . . what he wanted from me . . . from my friend.

“You want to sell us,” I whispered, my throat closing on that horrifying truth. “You lured us in, pretended to be our friend, but you were lying . . . You sell women for sex . . . to be slaves.” A sob became trapped in my throat. “Why have you done that to her?” I swallowed. “Will you do that to me too?”

His beautiful brown eyes softened, as though I had said something sentimental and sweet. He lifted his hand and, with a gentleness I didn’t expect from him, pushed back my hair and kissed my forehead. Sighing, he said in English, “I had no choice but to sedate you, bella. You were hysterical at what you saw, and that is never a good look on one of my females, my black roses.” I bristled at being called that. But he kept talking. “I am Juan Garcia, my Elysia. I do not tolerate over-emotional women.” He smiled and ran his finger down my cheek. “Especially from the woman I have decided not to sell, but instead have chosen as my own.”

My lungs ceased breathing at his words.

“Si, bella. You are mine. I have never had a woman as my own before. But I am breaking all of my rules for you.” He kissed me then, his soft lips leaving an invisible stain on my dry mouth. “And you will be happy by my side. The empress to my emperor.” He lifted me off the floor and guided me from the room. Too weak to fight back, I walked into the sun, all the time wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into. And how the hell I was going to get us out . . .

I clutched my chest as I flew upright in bed. I gasped, needing to breathe. Reaching to the table beside me, I shakily opened the drawer and took out my anxiety pills. I swallowed two dry and tried to calm down. The memory of Garcia in my nightmare still clung to me like a rash.

I raked my hands over my arms, slicing at my skin as if I could somehow scratch him from my mind. I closed my eyes, but his beautiful face was there. I opened my eyes and felt his dark brown ones watching me from across the room, like he always did. The light was on. I could only sleep in the light.

I knew the room was empty, but my mind liked to play tricks on me. He was on the chair in the corner of the room, smoking his Cuban cigar, tequila in hand. He stood, his black suit and silver tie as pristine as I had ever seen them, and moved to me on the bed. I was frozen as he sat down beside me and smiled. “Mi rosa negra,” he purred and kissed me. My eyes clenched closed. When I dared open them again, I was alone in the room.

Fleeing from the bed, I snuck out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. I poured a large glass of water and leaned against the counter. Outside, the sky was turning from black to a dusky pink.

Sunrise.

Keeping silent, I stepped out onto the porch, shutting the door behind me. I walked to the rail and took a deep breath. When the scent of tobacco hit my nostrils, I snapped my head to the left.

“Sia,” Ky said from the porch swing. He was dressed only in jeans, his long blond hair hanging haphazardly over his bare shoulders. He ran his hands through the strands.

“Ky.” I laid my hand over my chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.” He took a sip of the amber liquor in his glass and stared out into the distance.

I sat beside him on the porch swing, wondering what was wrong. I wrapped the blanket from the back of

the swing over us both; the night chill had made my bare arms break out in goosebumps. Ky didn’t even seem to notice I had covered him too. Following his gaze, watching the first embers of dawn begin to flare, I asked, “What’s going on, Kyler?”

He didn’t react to my question. When I turned to look at his face, I wasn’t sure there was any fight left in him. It scared me more than anything. Because my brother was a foghorn; he was loud and obnoxious. But right now, he appeared broken.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” he asked, his voice graveled and rough.

“No.” I lowered my eyes to my hands on my lap. “Just the usual shit. Dreams of Garcia. Michelle . . . Of that time.”

Ky took a sip of his drink. We sat in silence for minutes. Just when I believed he wouldn’t speak, he whispered, “She’s pregnant.”

I blinked, unsure I had heard him correctly. My head lifted, and I saw what could only be described as raw pain etched onto his bearded face.

“Ky . . .” I whispered. Knowing he needed it, I reached over and took his empty hand in my own. He tensed, but then held on so tightly to my fingers that it hurt.

It took me a moment to pull myself together. “Is this not a good thing?” I checked no one was around. “She had surgery to make this a reality for you both. It’s a miracle, Ky.”

His head dropped, but I caught a small nod of agreement. “It is,” he said softly. “But she’s high risk.” He turned to me, and I almost broke when I saw a tear fall from his eye and track slowly down his cheek. “We always knew she would be if we ever got pregnant, but now it’s here, I just . . .” Ky gazed back into the distance. I squeezed his hand tighter, letting him know I was still there for him.

“Now that it’s here, she has to rest all the time, take it easy, just so she can have this kid . . .” He shook his head. “It makes the thought of . . .” He took a deep breath. “Losing her—” His voice cracked and his head slumped. Hair hid his face, but I knew tears were falling. Tears fell from my eyes too. In all of my days, in all the time I had spent with my brother, I had never seen him like this. He was always strong, rarely cried. Always covered his emotions with jokes or threats.