Twisted Mercy (Red Team Book 4) (40 page)

Max’s nostrils flared. “If I’d been there for them—”

“If you’d been there, yeah, you could breathe for them and bleed for them and carry them, but their response to life would have been what it was. You would only have delayed their choices.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t fucking know that.” Max rubbed his palm over his mouth as he considered his bosses. “Am I in or out?”

“Which do you want?” Owen asked.

“In.”

Owen nodded. “Then in you are. For what it’s worth, you were right. Hope should have stayed at the house. I apologize for that decision. But I won’t apologize for erring on the side of caution. There are a lot of lives in my care.”

Max sighed. “Agreed. Is she going to be safe with us? Or does she have to watch her back around you?”

“She’s one of us now, as safe as any of us are,” Owen answered. Max pulled a calming breath. “King is still after her, and bringing her to the house puts a bull’s-eye on everyone there.”

“There already was a bull’s-eye on each of us,” Max said. “I’m going to go see Pete. I’ll tell him about the hit on Hope and that I’m taking her somewhere to lie low for a while. He’s deathly afraid of King’s acid pools. I can use that. For a while. Until King decides to switch out western region presidents.” He looked at his bosses. “What about Lion’s pride? We just gonna leave them there?” Max asked.

“I’m looking at options for them,” Owen said. “However, now knowing what they’re watchers of, it benefits us to leave them in place.”

“They’re only boys, Owen.”

“They might have been boys, had they been born to different parents. In reality, they are the weird warrior-watchers they’ve been trained to be. When we’re finished with the mission, I’ll find them a new situation.”

“Go on,” Kit said to him. “Go sit with Hope. We’ll bring her back to the house when she’s discharged later today.”
 

* * *

Hope looked pale and thin on the bed. One arm was in a sling. Max could see the edges of bandages beneath her hospital Johnny on her other shoulder. The wound on her head was patched up.
 

He walked to the bed. She turned and smiled at him. He reached for her hand. When their skin connected, she started to cry. His broken fairy cried. He fucking died right then.

He couldn’t hold her without hurting her, so he sat next to her and leaned down over her, bracing his forearms on the bed as he rested his head on her stomach, letting her touch him as she could without having to move her arms much. “I am so sorry. So goddamned sorry,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
 

“Maximilian Caulfield Cameron, don’t you dare take the burden for what happened.”

Max huffed a disbelieving laugh and leaned up to look at her. “How the hell do you know my full name?”

“Greer told me. He called here to talk to you, but you were showering. He told me you’d take it like this. Kit held the phone for me.”

Maybe fairy wings didn’t stay broken for long. He brushed a lock of her hair from her forehead, running his fingers gently over the uninjured side of her head. “Tell me one thing, Hope. Do I keep you or set you free?”

“Keep me,” she said without hesitation.

He stared into her eyes. “Maybe I should wait and ask that question when your head injury is healed.”

A little frown tightened her brows. “Don’t make me angry. I know your full name now.”

He laughed. “God, I love you.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah. Scares the hell out of me.”

She touched the bandage on his arm. Red was seeping through the gauze in a thin line of dots. “What happened?”

“Hatchet’s knife clipped me. Needed a few stitches.”

“Uh-uh. This is the inside of your arm. You cut yourself again.”

Max went still. The moisture in his eyes made her waver in front of him. “I had to. I have to remember what my carelessness almost cost you.”

“Oh, Mads. I don’t want to be a line on your arm. I want to be a smile on your face. I want to warm you when you’re cold. I want to be your strength. I don’t want to take from you.”

Max blinked the tears from his eyes. “It’s a bad choice you’re making, Hope.”

“Nonsense. My heart feels happy. It can’t be wrong.”

He bowed his head to rest it against her belly.
 

She forked her hand through his hair. “Thank you for saving me. Again.”

Max lifted his head and looked at her. “I knew you were trouble when I first laid eyes on you.”

“You did not.” She laughed, then her eyes grew serious. “I don’t want to go back to that house at the WKB, Max.”

He shook his head. “You never will. We’re going back to the team headquarters.”

“Owen said I saved your life. Did I?”

He bent and kissed her hand. It was so much more than his life she saved. “You did save me. You know what that means?”

“What?”

“You have to marry me now.”

She touched his face, shocked at his words. “You want to marry me?”

“I do. If you’ll have me, after everything that’s happened.”

“I knew when I went to the WKB compound I’d be facing some enormous odds getting out alive. I knew what I was getting in to. So don’t say ‘after everything that’s happened’ like it’s your fault.” She looked into his eyes. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He caught her hand and bent to kiss her knuckles.

“But, before we go forward, what about all the things we don’t know about me? What if we find out King’s your enemy?”

“He is my enemy, but that doesn’t make you my enemy. You’re my soul.”

She smiled, her frown easing away from her brow. “Then I think we’re holding each other’s souls, ’cause I feel so hollow when you’re not near me. If you’re serious about getting married, then I say yes.”

He pulled the first easy breath he’d had since the night went to hell. Dawn was only just lightening the room. He still had some time before he had to head out. Pete wouldn’t be up for hours.

“Get up here with me,” she ordered. “I want to sleep and I can only do that with you near me, at least until forever.”

He lay on his side next to her, folding his good arm and resting his head on it. He set his hand on her belly. “I had no idea fairies were so tough.”

She moved her leg between his and looked into his eyes. “You think I’m a fairy?” He nodded. She shook her head, but smiled. “You are a crazy romantic.” Her breath touched his lips. The sweetest thing he’d ever felt. “I love you so much, Max.”

“Not nearly as much as I love you.” He touched her hair as he stared into her eyes. “Close your eyes and rest a bit before we take you home.”

“What’s going to happen to Lion?”

“For now, he’ll stay put. Owen’s going to look into some options for him and the boys.”

She nodded. “Will I be able to see him?”

“I’ll bring him out to the house now and then. We’re going to have to keep things quiet for a while.” He reached over and touched her cheek. “Shut your eyes, baby. I’ve got you now.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Max sat in Pete’s favorite booth. The afternoon was an hour and half old, and still no Pete. And no anyone else, for that matter. Max had the entire clubhouse to himself. He looked at the two corpses sitting in the booth with him and realized that wasn’t exactly true. The day was as hot as any late July day. Hatchet and JT were looking bloated.
 

He hoped Pete showed up before they blew.

Right on cue, the club president slammed through the back door. “What the hell are you up—” He saw who was sitting in the booth with Max. He slumped into the seat next to JT.

“Glad you could join us.” Max reached into Hatchet’s jeans pocket and pulled out a fistful of King’s gold, which he dropped onto the table. “Found your mole. You said you were going to take care of that problem.”

Pete sighed. Max lurched forward and grabbed his tee, yanking him down to bang his head on the table. The clubhouse was empty; no one stood up for Pete. He leaned over the president. “Did you know King put a kill order out on Hope?”

“I knew. It arrived before she did.” Pete tried to sit up. Max held him in place. “I asked Hatchet to take care of it.”

“Well, you see, I’ve taken a liking to her, so it’s personal for me. I’m taking her and heading back to AK. If anyone comes for her, or me, then I’ll come for you. I’ll wait for you in the shadows while you get your hell dust prepped. Then, before you can shoot up, when you need a fix so goddamned bad your body’s shaking, while you’re still conscious and alert and can feel things, I’m going to drag you down into the tunnels and drop you in the acid pool. And I will stand there and watch your body melt from your bones.” Max smiled. “And I will not shoot you first. You get what I’m saying? I saw someone die that way last night. I can still hear his screams.”

Pressed into the table, Pete had little range of motion, but he was able to nod.

“Good.” Max released him and stood up. “We’re done, Pete. Tell King to find a new sergeant-at-arms. I’m done getting fucked over. And tell him Hope ain’t his worry anymore.”

Pete sat up. He looked around the empty clubhouse. Outside, the members were looking in the windows, trying to see what was happening.

“What am I going to tell them?”

“Tell them I dealt with your mole problem.”

* * *

Max watched Hope kicking a soccer ball with Zavi and Casey. Rocco and Mandy were making sure the kids played easy with her. The exercise helped her recovery. Dr. Beck had taken her stitches out a couple of days ago, but she still wore an arm sling to support her shoulder. Mandy had been helping her stretch and work her arm and shoulders in short sessions as she healed.

It was hard to believe she’d been with them more than a week already. The game ended. Hope saw him and hurried over. Her expression was so happy. Something in his face must have tipped her off to his mood. She paused a few feet from him. “What’s wrong?” Her gaze dropped to the letter he held.
 

“We finally got your physical file from the US marshals office.” He handed her the letter. “Your mom wrote it. You were supposed to get it when you turned eighteen, before you left foster care, but it sat forgotten in the file.”

Hope’s hand shook as she brushed her thumb over the writing on the envelope. Her mother’s cursive handwriting was feminine and neat. She looked up at him.
 

“Do you want to be alone?” he asked.

She shook her head. She pulled his ring out from her V-neck tee and palmed it as she looked down at the envelope.

“Then let’s find a quiet corner where you can read.” He led her over to the portico that led from the gym building to the house. A wooden bench sat between two supports. She sat down and pulled the letter out. The envelope had long ago been opened by the marshals.
 

“Did you read this?”
 

He nodded. He watched her warily, wondering whether it was a kindness or a curse to receive such a last goodbye so unexpectedly. He remembered his mom’s last letter. He wished he’d been able to read it, though maybe it had been a blessing that he couldn’t. Maybe it was a suicide note and she’d blamed her inability to face life on him. In the absence of her real words, he’d decided that she wrote to him about what he’d wanted to hear. Her health was improving. She would be visiting him soon. And she loved and missed him terribly.

It was as good a lie as any.

Hope unfolded the note from her mom. It had been written on a standard sheet of lined notepaper torn from a yellow legal pad. He’d read it three times. He had only to watch her eyes to know where she was in the note.

My dearest daughter,

If you’re reading this, then I’m not there with you and possibly haven’t been for many years, which also means you’ve been raised by strangers. I am so very sorry for that. I hope they were kind to you. I hope you were safe and warm and fed and loved.
 

I want you to know why I was working with the marshals to get us into their witness protection program. Your father, John Beall, was a prospect for one of the officers on the board of the White Kingdom Brotherhood’s western region. His sponsor was the sergeant-at-arms. He and your father did any dirty work the club needed, much of it at the request of the club’s president.

I collected the evidence the FBI needed, including several photographs and taped conversations. It was enough to prosecute them for their crimes. And it bought us our freedom.

Don’t think I was an innocent victim. I wasn’t. I helped your father—not actively, but passively. I gave him a place to lie low. He sometimes hid his drugs at my house. I got caught up in something that was much more evil than I realized at the time. I helped him because I didn’t know how not to.

I tried to give us a different life. I wanted so very badly for you and your brother to be free of the decisions I’d made in my life. The fact that I’m gone tells me I may not have been successful. You could still be in danger. The people I was hiding from rarely forgive or forget.

When you came along, I wanted to change. I wanted to get out. You were always my hope for a better life. That’s why, when the marshals asked me to suggest new first names for us, I chose Hope for you. I chose Randall for your brother because it seemed such a regal name. I hope he grew up to fit that name.

I love you and your brother so very, very much. There are no do-overs in life. If I could only give you one piece of advice, it would be to live life in such a way that you never have to hide from the sun.

With all my love, and a lifetime of hugs,

Mom

P.S. You must promise me to steer clear of your father. He goes by various names, but at the present moment, his road name is Hatchet.

She gasped and looked up at him. “Is this true?”

He knew she was asking about Hatchet. God, he wished it weren’t. “Yeah.”

She choked on a breath. Tears filled her eyes. She dropped the letter to the bench and lurched to her feet. He stood up as well. “He tried to kill me. He would have killed me.” She folded her good arm around her stomach. “He would have…would have—”