My Maddie (Hades Hangmen 8)

“Please,” Flame begged again, only this time it was quieter, yet laced with more urgency.

“He’s speaking to you, Madds. He knows you. Or at least, he knows he can trust you. We need to get Flame down and get both of them home, then figure out how the fuck to get Flame back. How to get your man back to himself.”

I stepped away from AK and Viking. Styx and Ky were on the other side of Asher, far enough away, I guessed, so as not to upset Flame. Styx nodded to me; his arms crossed over his chest. I walked slowly to the line of trees, heart in my mouth, as I gazed upon my family, both hurt and bleeding. But it was Flame to whom I was compelled to most. He was the most disorientated. The most in need of help. His breath came faster and faster as I approached, his bloodied chest rising up and down as he sucked in quick inhales of breath.

His black gaze met my eyes. I forced myself to smile. “Baby,” I spoke softly gently, so as not to scare him, or give him case to doubt my intentions. “We must cut you down.”

A pain, deep and intense, flashed across his features, contorting his face. My knees almost buckled. “Isaiah came back,” Flame said, appealing to me for help. “He came back. But so did our poppa and Pastor Hughes. They hurt him, Maddie. I got Isaiah back and they hurt him.” Flame’s eyes lowered to the ground. I knew he was reliving some version of hell in his mind, when I saw his muscles begin to twitch and his length begin to harden inside his pants.

“Snakes… they had snakes. They bit him.” Tears tracked in thick rivulets down Flame’s cheeks. “He is good, but the snakes found the devil inside him too. How? He is good. He isn’t evil like me.”

I wiped away tears from my cheeks and edged ever closer. I kept my arms at my sides. I would not touch him. I did not know if he could tolerate being touched right now—even from me. “I see him,” I replied to Flame, and glanced across to Asher. He had been listening intently to us. And my stomach fell on seeing the agony etched on his young face, as Flame spoke of his deceased brother, not Asher who was standing beside him. The brother who had followed Flame into this fight. I had to get them down. Then all would be well. I would make things good again.

I cast a watery smile at Flame. “I am here to help you, Flame. You and Isaiah.” Flame’s shoulder relaxed slightly. “But you must allow us to help you down from the tree. You are hurt.” I smiled at Asher, trying to reassure him everything would be okay. His head fell, averting his gaze from mine. “Let us save Isaiah, Flame.”

Even speaking the words was a dagger strike to my heart. To even speak his fallen brother’s name in such a way made my soul cry out at the injustice of my husband’s plight. At how, even now, he had to deal with the trauma of losing his brother in the tragic way he had. At how Flame had yet to accept that he too was an innocent in this story, the victim of an abusive father who tormented him each and every day of his young life. “Can we save him, Flame? Can we save Isaiah?”

Flame’s eyes darted over the brothers, and then landed on Viking and AK. He didn’t meet their eyes, but his head remained angled their way. “Them,” he rasped. I knew he was referring to AK and Viking. “They can do it. Only them.” A burst of heat blossomed in my chest. Hope. It was the blissful feeling of hope. Even in the fog clouding his mind, Flame recognized his best friends.

AK and Viking slowly moved to Asher. I drifted closer as they began to cut the ropes that bound him. As the ropes fell away, Viking lifted Asher from the tree, as gently as a disciple lifting Christ from the cross of Calvary. When Viking placed Asher down on the ground, Asher’s legs buckled. He was too weak to walk. I dared not leave Flame, fighting the instinct to run to him and wrap him in my embrace. Flame’s agitation increased and panic set on his face as he watched his brother being freed. AK moved closer to Asher, and I had to stop myself from sobbing as Asher fell against AK and wrapped his weakened arms around AK’s neck. Asher wouldn’t let go, tucking his head into the safety of AK’s chest. AK realized this, and simply held him. “It’s okay, kid. I got you,” AK whispered, letting Asher slip deeper into his embrace.

In that moment I was reminded of what Asher was—a child. A child who, like Flame, had lost his mama and was thrust into a life no one should have to endure. He had a brother who loved him, but who struggled to show this love. To ensure that Asher knew, with unwavering certainty, that Flame needed him in his life.

AK slowly carried Asher away. Rider rushed to Asher as AK lay him on the ground. But AK did not let go of Asher’s hand. Kept telling him he was going to be okay. Flame began thrashing against the ropes. When I followed his line of sight, he was reacting to Rider giving Asher aid.

“They are saving him,” I assured Flame, who stilled and looked into my eyes. Even now, in the hell in which he was trapped, Flame met my eyes. I was the only person from whom he never looked away. I did not know if he recognized me as his wife, but his soul called to mine, still holding the bond that God, or destiny, had created for us. For us to find one another when all was lost, and we feared salvation could never be found.

I stepped closer. My very presence seemed to calm Flame. His breathing slowed and his body lost tension. I still registered the confusion in his eyes. Saw how the snake venom had affected him—his dilated eyes, the sweat on his skin. “Do you… do you know who I am?” I dared ask and fought the urge to lay my hands upon his chest. To feel my husband’s heartbeat against my palm and pray that he knew the touch of his wife.

Flame studied my face. Sadness engulfed me when I realized he did not know me. I opened my mouth to speak, when he whispered, “Angel.” I could not move as he spoke. “The angel in my dreams who rescues me from the flames, from the cellar.” I exhaled, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces. “The angel who finds me when I’m lost…” Flame’s voice slurred, and his eyes began to close. I quickly looked back at AK and Viking, signaling for their help with a single nod.

“We need to get him down.” Panic began to take hold of me. I looked back to Flame, and his eyes rolled with the threatening unconsciousness. AK and Viking rushed over and began cutting through Flame’s ropes. They caught him as he fell. Flame’s eyes widened in shock, stimulated by the fear of being touched. I swiftly moved before him and caught the attention of his wandering gaze. He immediately relaxed.

“We will save you,” I whispered. Flame exhaled. I knew how far he had slipped into the darkness when I felt him take hold of my hand. Flame’s rough fingers wrapped loosely around mine. Our palms kissed and assured me that, even fighting the flames and the horrors from his past, Flame knew I was meant to be by his side. That I was his protector, and always would be. That any darkness he would travel through, I would follow behind, lamp in hand, on a quest to find him and bring him back into the light.

This little light of mine…

I held on to Flame’s hand as his body relaxed and his eyes finally closed. “Rider!” AK called. AK and Viking carried Flame to where Asher was being treated. I could smell the rubbing alcohol Rider had applied to Asher’s wounds. Bandages littered Asher’s body—his torso and arms. A choked sound left Asher’s mouth as Flame was laid down beside him.

Keeping Flame’s hand in mine, I wrapped my free arm around Asher and kissed his cheek. “Asher,” I whispered. “You are okay,” I murmured positively, more to assure myself. “You are okay.” I felt the wetness of his tears against my cheek.

“He broke, Madds. He just fucking broke. Started talking to our poppa, and Pastor Hughes like they were alive. But, in reality, he was speaking to the cunts who captured us.” Asher’s breathing hitched. “He thought I was Isaiah. He really thought I was Isaiah.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ward off the pain that threatened to destroy what was left of my heart. “Flame will be okay, Asher. We will fix him. We will heal him.” I dropped my head against Asher’s. “You are alive.” I exhaled in relief. “You are both alive.”

“Hello,” a soft voice sounded behind us. I turned my head to see Sister Ruth kneeling at the

cage which held the naked girl with the sewn-up mouth. Ruth held out her hand. “I am Ruth. I can help you.” She smiled, kindly. I saw the sympathy in her smile too. “I understand your pain. I can help you.”

“Get the fuck back!” Viking shouted as he sprinted across the clearing. I did not understand what was happening until I saw the girl withdraw a knife from the leafy floor of the cell. Wrapping his arms around Ruth, Viking pulled her back onto the grass, well away from the knife. But I watched in horror as the knife did not threaten Ruth as we all assumed. Instead, the girl raised her hands, both clenching the handle of the knife, and she plunged it into her heart.

“No!” Ruth yelled, trying to scurry forward to help. She unlatched the door to the cage and took the blade from the girl’s clutches. My heart hammered in my chest as I saw the blood gushed from the girl’s chest. Even from this distance, I could see she had stopped breathing and her eyes had ceased to blink. Ruth struggled to cover the seeping wound with her hand. “No,” Ruth whispered as she fought to save the girl’s life.

“She’s gone,” Viking spoke quietly from beside her. He took hold of Ruth’s wrists.

“I had to try,” she stated, trying to pull away.

“She’s fucking gone. She stabbed herself in the heart. I ain’t no doctor like you and your kid, but I know that means she’s beyond fucked.” Ruth lifted her head and I caught the agony in her expression. Her brown eyes stared at the ground, as she let Viking lead her from the cage. Her white shirt was soiled by blood, lots of blood. My heart broke for her. I watched her eyes when she looked upon the girl. It was not just sympathy. It was deep understanding. I did not know what Ruth endured at the hands of The Order. But like us all, it would have been bad, very bad.

Rider worked on Flame’s surface wounds. “I’ve sedated him, Madds.” Rider went quiet, and then said, “He needs help, Maddie.” Rider’s gaze flitted over to AK and Asher who were listening. Rider sighed. “This is out of my fucking knowledge. I think… I think he might have had a psychotic breakdown, Madds. He needs help. He needs medical help. From a hospital. From psychiatrists, who know what they’re doing.”

“No.”

“Not a fucking chance,” AK echoed.

“The things he was saying,” Rider said. “He needs help.”

“He cannot stand hospitals,” I asserted and moved beside Flame to hold his hand tighter. I pushed my hand through Flame’s dark hair, not caring about the blood on my hand. He was my husband. I had to touch him. I had to be sure he was okay.

“They fucked him up before,” AK said. “He’s fucking terrified of them.”

“There are good doctors,” Rider argued. “Doctors who will listen and who will genuinely help him.”

“I can help him,” I countered, feeling my conviction grow. I tried to imagine Flame waking up in a hospital, a psychiatric hospital. He would not survive it, neither would the hospital. He would not cope. I knew this. So did AK. “He will be coming home with me. I have helped him before. I can do it again.”

“I didn’t see him before…” Rider trailed off. He was the prophet then, separated from the Hangmen. “But I’ve heard about it. I think, Madds, I think this time it’s worse?” The rush of pain in my heart told me I agreed. “You might not be able to help this time.”

“He is my husband,” I argued. “My Flame.” I smiled and kissed the back of his hand. Then kissed his wedding ring, the ones we exchanged alone, only the moon and stars our witnesses. “He knew me. Even in this troubled haze, he knew who I was.”

“He called you an angel, Maddie,” Asher added. I searched his face, and saw doubt and helplessness there. Then it occurred to me. Asher had not seen Flame in this state either. He had been found by us after Flame had begun to heal. “He didn’t know who you were. He thought you were an angel.”

“Then that is who I will be to Flame—wife, soul mate, angel. It does not matter in what terms Flame refers to me. He will always be the one my soul knows. He will always be the one my heart will rely on, when it is me who needs to be saved. That is what angels do, Asher. They guide and they save. If he needs me to be his angel right now, then that is who I will be.”

“Let’s get him home,” AK said. He and Tank lifted Flame off the ground, carrying him between them. Bull aided Asher.

“I said who the fuck do you work for?” Smiler was shouting down to the man they had captured. From what I could tell, he was the only one left alive. Smiler still held him to the ground with his foot. The man laughed in response, then pulled a gun from beneath him. Bringing the gun to his head, he pulled the trigger, instantly becoming limp under Smiler’s foot. Smiler backed away then kicked at the man’s body. “FUCK!”

“Tanner?” Tanner ran across the clearing to Beau who was crouched beside the dead girl from the cage. “Look,” Beau pointed. As we passed, I caught sight of a scar, no, a brand burned onto the back of her neck. “You recognize it?” Beau asked Tanner.

“What is it?” Ky asked, Styx moving beside him.

Tanner looked to Beau, then to Styx and Ky. “Our old man had a ring with that symbol on it.”

“What the fuck is it? Klan shit again?” Ky snapped.

Tanner and Beau shook their heads. “Not Klan. Old man never told us what it meant or where he got it. I didn’t tell us shit about much of anything.”

“So if it isn’t the fucking Klan, who the fuck is it?” Styx signed and Ky spoke.

“No fucking idea.” Tanner shrugged. Tanner took a picture on his cell phone. “But I’m gonna find out.” Turning my head away from the dead bodies and the men who had hurt my family, I followed AK and Tank to the van. They laid Flame across a row of seats and I sat beside him. Resting his head on my knee, I stroked his hair, thankful he had some temporary peace. Asher sat behind me. I reached around and took hold of his hand. I expected him to pull away from me. Instead he held on tightly. In fact, he did not let go until we were home. AK and Viking carried Flame inside and laid him upon our bed. Rider made quick work of stitching and patching up his wounds while he was sedated.

“It’ll be a while before he wakes,” Rider said. “That’s good. The longer he sleeps, the more his head might heal.” Rider was conflicted. I could read it on his face. Bella took hold of his hand, leading him in the direction of the door. “When he wakes, call me,” Rider said. “If he doesn’t recognize you, leave the cabin. Okay? Be safe.”

“Okay,” I agreed. But I spoke a lie. I would not be leaving Flame.

Rider and Bella left the house. Asher hovered at the door, like he wanted to be anywhere but here, with his brother, right now. Sadness flared in my heart. AK put his hands on his shoulder. “Come on, kid. You’re coming back to my place. Rider’s gonna fix you up too.” Asher did as he was told. I believed, in this moment, he needed someone to take the lead over his care. He cast Flame one long final look, before leaving the cabin, his head bowed and shoulders sagging. “We’re next door. We ain’t going nowhere ‘til he’s better and back with us. Yeah?” AK said.

I nodded. When the cabin was clear, I locked the door and lay beside Flame. Reaching for his hand, I held on tightly. His breathing was steady, and his face was unmarred by worry or the flames he felt in his blood. “We will get through this, Flame. We have done it before. We can do it again.”

Taking his hand, I lowered it over my baby bump, letting the tears fall from my eyes. He had not once held the bump, not once lay his hand on the place where our baby grew. The sight of his hand on our baby made me feel happier than ever before. Our baby was perfectly situated, as though it was always destined to be there. As though we were always meant to have this child. And I left his hand there. I let Flame’s warmth flow through my clothes and into my skin. As my eyes began to close, I felt our baby move. And I allowed myself to smile through the crippling pain and fear that had taken control. But that feeling of our baby recognizing its father filled me with determination to help Flame fight this. That we would triumph, o

nce and for all. That he would face the burdens of his past and finally lay them to rest and find peace.

We had a new life awaiting us. We had a daughter or son who needed us. Needed us to love and protect her or him in a way that neither Flame nor I had ever been gifted.

Stroking Flame’s stubbled cheek, I whispered, “Rest, Flame. Rest. And then fight for us.” I kissed his lips softly, a promise that he would prevail. And I fell asleep. With Flame’s hand protecting our baby, I fell asleep. Knowing he would never harm our child.

We just needed Flame to believe it to be true. And he would. I would not fail him. He was my Flame. And I would stand beside him through it all. I would hold his hand and guide him through the fires of hell.

Chapter Nine

Lil’ Ash

“There,” Rider said confidently and stepped back from my bed. He properly treated the wounds he’d only managed to patch up in the woods. He busied himself with packing all his medical shit back in his bag. I looked down at my body. There were fresh gauzes and bandages fucking everywhere. There wasn’t a part of my skin that wasn’t marked in some way. Knife wounds, fucking snake bites. Rider had given me some shots for the venom, tetanus, and then started stitching me back together. He’d already been to Flame, done the same for him.

Just thinking of my brother felt like taking a crowbar to my skull. I knew he was fucked up right now. I knew he wasn’t handling Maddie and the baby real well. And I’d fucking crushed him. I knew it. He wouldn’t say that, of course. Fuck, his face had barely moved since I’d struck a nerve by calling him Poppa. I’d seen his cheek twitch and his muscles tense. And, in the fucking moment, it hadn’t been enough. I’d wanted him to hit me, to fucking hurt me, to show me that he at least fucking saw me. I knew he couldn’t express shit like that. But in that moment, I hated him. I fucking hated that he was different, that something inside him made him different from the other brothers. I wanted to be able to talk to him, wanted him to talk to me normally.