Out of the Ashes (46 page)

That look wasn’t permanent. It was like the effects of a drug. A while after the killing it drained away, back into the darkest recesses of his mind. After spending time with Mia, with Lexie, that look became a memory. The dark corner where it retreated to was bathed in light. The look in this man’s eyes was permanent. Bull’s entire frame tightened. This was the man. Responsible for taking Mia. Shooting Killian. Trying to take Lexie. Almost killing her sixteen years ago. Almost killing Mia. Thank fuck Lexie didn’t look a thing like him. He found himself stepping toward the man who was staring at him. Involuntarily reaching for his piece in order to put a bullet through his brain. Didn’t give a shit he’d be killing an unarmed man in a room full of cops. Not in that moment.

Bill stepped forward, jerking the man behind him roughly.

“Not the time, son,” he told him firmly, meeting his eyes.

Bull stared at him, struggling not to pummel the old man from getting in the way of justice. Of revenge.

“Go to your woman,” he continued, not backing down at the no doubt murderous look on Bull’s face.

That jolted Bull out of his haze. The monster took a backseat and Bull realized what was most important in that moment.

“Basement,” he barked.

Bill nodded at him, a look of relief flooding the old man’s face. He jerked his head to the hallway behind him. “In the kitchen, first door to your left.” His voice held a note of something; couldn’t be respect, but as sure as shit sounded like it.

A meaningful look was communicated between the two before Bull moved past them both in search of his woman. Bull didn’t look at the maggot, because if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to control himself.

When he found the basement, he struggled not to take the stairs two at a time. He got to the bottom, not fully prepared for what he would see. His entire frame locked in place.

Mia on the ground, Crawford crouching beside her, gently moving her arm in his hands. Bull gritted his teeth at the fucker’s hands on her. But he didn’t focus on that, not for long. He focused on her face. Her beautiful peaches and cream face. It was now covered in purplish bruising. Both of her eyes were darkened with evidence of the brutality she withstood, one almost swollen shut. There were rings around her neck. Hand marks. Someone had tried to strangle her. Tried to squeeze the life out of her. Unbidden, the memories assaulted him. A surprise attack.

Four Years Ago

His eyes watched the monitor that measured the beats of her heart. That showed him that she was still alive. Barely. Barely holding on, he knew that. His eyes moved to the bandage that covered half her face. He knew what was underneath it, what that tattoo meant. Meant he’d failed. Failed his most basic job. Protecting his girl. Shielding her from the horrors that came with being connected with him. Shielding her from the darkness. The evidence of his failure was everywhere. The burn marks decorating her delicate arms. The cuts and bruises covering almost her entire body. Couldn’t even let himself think of what else they’d done to her. Not in this moment. But that was his failure too.

“Brother.” He heard his best friend’s voice, felt his hand on his shoulder. He didn’t look up. Didn’t move his eyes from that machine.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me right now, Cade,” he ordered quietly, his voice dead.

The hand left, but the presence didn’t. There was silence for a moment, the beeping the only sound in the room.

“This isn’t your fault,” Cade began.

“The fuck it isn’t,” Bull snapped. “This shit,” he nodded to the bed. To his broken angel. “Is
all
on me.”

“Bull,” Cade’s voice was stronger, ready to fight him on this.

Bull whipped his head around to meet his friend’s eyes. “They fucking
raped
her,” he yelled, the ugly word seeming to echo in his brain, slice him up inside. “Repeatedly,” he continued quieter and he watched his friend flinch. “She’s scared of mice,” he told him. “Laurie’s fuckin’ terrified of the tiny things.” His eyes moved back to the machine. “She’s afraid of
mice
. How do you think she felt when they were doing,
that
,” he spat the word, “to her?” He paused, choking on his breath. “Yeah, that’s on me,” he repeated. “Girl who lived her life in sunshine, losing it in the blackest, ugliest depths of hell,” he choked out. And as if she heard him, as if she couldn’t keep it up any longer, the beeping stopped.

A single tear trickled down Bull’s cheek.

“Zane?” A small voice shocked him out of his own head. His own horrors.

He realized he had been locked in the spot. His eyes glued on Mia, his mind straying to someone else entirely.

That voice, that very alive, very strong voice got him moving. He managed to make his feet move and in a moment he was in front of her, kneeling. He managed not to kick Crawford in the face, who merely released Mia and moved slightly away with a hard glare.

Bull cupped Mia’s face with his hands gently, aware of the pain she must be in. But he had to touch her. To feel her warm skin under his. She met his eyes. He flinched, but not out of pain. Out of relief.

Her good hand stroked his jaw. “You’re here,” she said.

“I’m here,” he repeated, his voice sounding rough, even to his own ears.

“Lexie?” she asked, her voice tight with worry.

He stroked her face. “She’s good, baby,” he muttered. “Killian too,” he added when he saw her mouth open again.

Her entire body sagged. She searched his face. “I’m okay now,” she promised him.

His eyes ran over every inch of her body. The clothes weren’t hers but they weren’t ripped. They weren’t betraying signs of an unspeakable assault. That didn’t mean it didn’t happen. Bull swallowed the fire tickling at the base of his throat. His eyes worked their way back up to his face. It was covered in bruises. Bruises that made his own fists clench, and made him want to neuter the coward who thought he could lay hands on a woman. His woman. The eyes that met his once more made him calm. Because even though her face was battered, those bruises bringing the worst kind of déjà vu, the eyes were what held him together. They weren’t broken, weren’t empty. They were full, whole, strong.

“Marry me,” he whispered.

Her entire frame jerked. “What?” she whispered back.

“Marry me,” he clipped.

She regarded him. “You’re asking me to marry you, while I’m assuming I’m a delightful shade of purple?” she asked, half teasing.

Bull didn’t react. Outwardly, at least. Only Mia. Only his Mia would find a way to make a joke at this moment.

She took his silence as affirmation of his seriousness. Her own face turned serious. “Of course I’ll marry you,” she whispered with tears in her voice.

Bull didn’t hesitate. As gently as he could, he claimed her mouth. He had needed to since the moment he laid eyes on her. Once he was done he pulled back slightly. She was smiling. Almost laughing. Bull didn’t know how the fuck this was possible. She had just agreed to become his forever. He was happy. Ecstatic. But she was still sitting in front of him, injured. Battered, but not broken. And somehow smiling.

“What?” he clipped.

Her eyes twinkled and flickered to Crawford, who had been watching the entire exchange with a blank expression. Bull had decided to ignore him.

“We totally have to make up a ‘how did he propose’ story,” she informed him in a light tone. “The whole ‘he did it in a basement where I was chained up after being kidnapped,’ might not be appropriate for the grandchildren,” she finished on a smile.

The tightening of his form went unnoticed at the mention of their grandchildren as paramedics and more cops arrived. Bull was gently pushed to the side and he struggled not punch the fucker that suggested he move farther away. The look he gave the paramedic seemed to communicate something because no one uttered such a suggestion again.

One Year Later

“Mom!” a familiar voice screamed at me from downstairs.

I jerked slightly, my eyes focusing on the thing in front of me. The thing I was both crazy happy about and equally shitting myself about.

“Mom!” the voice repeated with impatience.

I sighed.

Once I got to the hallway I came face to face with my beautiful girl. Usually in a year, a teenage girl’s style changes about fifty times, as did her room decoration choices, makeup application, and boyfriends. As mentioned many times before, Lexie was not a normal teenage girl. Had I not birthed and raised her myself I wouldn’t have believed such a creature existed. Her style had not changed, evidenced by her faux leather shorts with a silky tank tucked in, a printed kimono layered over top. A single braid with a feather hanging off it was almost buried in her ringlets, which reached the small of her back when they were out, like they were now. Even at seventeen—nearly eighteen as she loved reminding me—she wore little makeup. Not that she needed any, the little minx; her freckles were still prominent under the little dusting of powder on her face. And the boyfriend? Still the same. I would be surprised if that ever changed. Killian started prospecting for the Sons six months ago when he turned eighteen. All of his time was either spent at the clubhouse or with Lexie. He still adored her with that furious intensity that had worried me up until the day he saved her life. Then there was the day he took a bullet for her. So yeah, it was safe to say the fact that the kid loved my daughter more than anything wasn’t the problem. The problem was Lexie was heading for somewhere bigger, better, and more glittery than Amber, evidenced by the success of her band in the past year. It seemed every weekend I was dragging Zane and more than likely Amy and or Rosie to gigs. They had just started putting their songs on YouTube and were getting crazy amounts of attention already. Keeping his promise, Clay had invited a record exec friend of his to the band’s latest gig. They had called the next day for a meeting, which was tomorrow. It was safe to say Lexie and the boys utterly lost their shit and were rehearsing non-stop to make sure they were flawless for the meeting. I wasn’t even sure they’d need to play; actually I didn’t know anything about the ins and outs of a meeting with record industry big wigs. As a momager I so needed to brush up on that stuff. I’d planned on doing Googling or something today, but what I’d held in my hands moments before had made me reevaluate the day’s plans.

“Mom,” Lexie repeated for the third time in disapproval.

“No one here resides by that name. I’m sorry, young girl,” I told her airily. “Have you tried the house next door? I’m sure I heard that very name, called in that very same tone, by a bratty six-year-old.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Have you seen my guitar?”

“It’s big and roundish, kind of hard to miss. How’d you lose it, young Padawan?” I asked, directing her into my—no, wait—
our
room. Almost a year of being married and I still forgot sometimes. Though the mingling of the clothes with mine and the various pairs of manlike footwear scattered about the place should have served as a reminder. Oh, and the impossibly handsome and hulking man who made my life amazing every single day. And made my nights full of passion every single night. And made my daughter and I safe and protected with every breath we took. So don’t ask me how I forgot.

“Why is it in here?” she asked, rushing to snatch her guitar from the spot where it was resting.

I leaned against the doorway. My kid was frazzled, which hardly ever happened. Only once on her very first gig did she get nerves. Apart from that, she was as cool as a cucumber. But now, on the eve of possibly the most important meeting of her life, she was understandably shaken. Which was why, I reasoned, she hadn’t noticed Killian’s decidedly odd behavior since she had announced said meeting. I had noticed it, because even though I too was beside myself with excitement, I was also super vigilant in anything to do with my kid. And Killian was practically an extension of Lexie. He was, apart from music, her world. And she, apart from the club, was his. But the look he got when she told him of the meeting that would possibly take her on the road to superstardom worried me.

“You don’t remember asking Zane to tune it for you before the meeting?” I asked, leaving my thoughts behind for now. “Even though it’s been in tune all of your life, thanks to the fact it’s like an extension of your hand,” I added.

She wandered toward me, her face uncertain. “Yeah. I’m just—”

“It’s okay to be nervous, doll. I’d think you were weird and possibly a cyborg if you weren’t,” I told her teasingly.

“It’s just, this could be huge,” she said in a small voice. “Like, life changing huge.”

I nodded. “Could be,” I agreed. “Knowing you and the boys. Your talent? The chances are high. I believe in you, you know. Anything you want to do, you can do it. You’re capable,” I told her firmly.

She smiled at me. “You think?”

I winked at her. “I know. My entire retirement plan rests on the millions you’re going to make,” I said.

She laughed as we walked together down the stairs. “Is Zane coming to the meeting?”

I stopped walking and stared at her. “Um, is he big, ultra-protective and like a total control freak?” I asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “He’ll be there, threatening to disembowel the suits if your deal is anything less than six figures,” I joked.

We made it to the bottom of the stairs and now it was Lexie’s time to stop. She regarded me with a look that was way beyond her years and I knew she was going to say something wise and possibly tear jerking.

“You know, he may have been sixteen years too late, but Zane’s the best dad I could’ve asked for,” she said quietly.

Yep. Totally wise and totally tear jerking.

“And, he’s going to be the most amazing dad ever to my little brother or sister,” she added with a small smile.

I jerked. “How did you know that? Are you a wizard?” I said on reflex, denial not even an option. I did not lie to my kid. Not anymore.

She nodded to my hand.

I glanced down. I was still clutching the positive pregnancy test. Shit.

Lexie kissed me quickly on the cheek. “Happy for you, Mom,” she said quietly. “And proud of you. You’re like, my hero,” she added.

I swallowed my tears. “You stole my line, kid.”

She smiled and straightened. “I’ve got to go and practice. Love you.”

One of the first things to happen after I got rescued was our marriage. The one that was proposed when I was chained in a basement happened about one week after my bruises faded for good. I actually had to convince Zane not to get a priest into my hospital room and marry us the second I’d been patched up. He’d relented. Barely. And only after I told him about how my first marriage had been devoid of family, and how I wanted our whole family, the club to be there when we were married. To witness their brother finally getting his happy ending.

So, on a sunny day in the same patch of grass where we had survived a nightmare, we created a new memory. I walked down a hastily put together aisle, wearing a simple ivory dress and flowers weaved through my curls. Lexie walked by my side.

I only had eyes for Zane as I walked past all of the people who I considered family. He smiled. Actually
smiled
a sexy smile as his eyes followed Lexie and I until we made it to him. When we made it, he gently pulled Lexie into his arms and kissed her head. “Love you, Lex,” he murmured softly.

She beamed up at him. “To the moon,” she whispered, her eyes slightly watery. She winked at me then moved to join Laura Maye and Gwen.

Zane grasped my chin. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he told me in a low voice.

For once, I didn’t have a single word to say. Luckily, since it was our wedding, Steg, our officiator, said a lot of stuff to actually get us married. Zane wasn’t through rendering me speechless, as I learned when it came time for the vows.

His hands gripped my waist tightly. “A wise woman once said that the first eclipse that blocks out the light, makes it seem like the sun will never shine again,” he said softly, eyes never leaving mine. “My mistake was thinking that eclipse was a destruction of light. Something permanent. You and Lexie made me see that I wasn’t condemned to live in that darkness forever. That I’d get to live in that brightest fuckin’ light that emits from the both of you. Something I’m gonna hold onto and treasure for the rest of my fuckin’ life,” he finished with passion.

I didn’t think there had ever been such a beautiful set of wedding vows ever, especially with the word fuck used in them. A set of vows uttered from the lips of a man whose silence was a feature people had come to except, evidenced by the multitude of dumbstruck and tearful faces throughout the crowd. I didn’t have eyes for any of them, only my husband, who I grabbed by the neck and kissed the shit out of.

It had been an amazing year. After I had been rescued from the clutches of my psychotic and decidedly evil ex-husband, things hadn’t exactly been happy ever after. It worked well for the Disney princesses, but not in real life. Things like nightmares and flashbacks plagued me for quite a while, even though every night I was safe in Zane’s arms. Zane was battling with wounds that weren’t visible like my broken bones. He spent every moment he could making sure I was okay, I think to remind himself. His eyes were tortured more often than not, and his clipped phrases and silence came back from a time. But I knew something that never wavered were his feelings for me. For Lexie. I knew he had to fight the rest of his demons off, once and for all, so I just gave him time. Tried not to get pissed off when he treated me like a doll about to break and damn near put a tracking device in Lexie’s car. The one he bought for her.

“You bought her a car?” I said in the quiet, dangerous voice Zane should have realized meant he had to tread carefully. Very carefully.

We were standing in the driveway of our house, watching Lexie and of course Killian, drive away in her new Ford Focus. That was after she let out a little squeal, hugged Zane, kissed my cheek and ran off to go for a test drive.

“Yep,” was all he answered, following the car with his eyes.

I turned to him. “And you think buying my daughter a car without telling me is okay?” I asked in the same tone, since he didn’t seem to catch it before.

Now that the car was out of sight, he turned to me, his face blank.

“Yep,” was all he responded.