Savage, page 19
part #1 of The Healer Series
Smiling, she remains standing in place as she stares at her father’s remains. Tilting her head back, face to the ceiling, she inhales deeply. “I did it, Lucy,” she whispers and my brows furrow.
“What does that mean?”
Her gaze flicks to mine. “I’ve avenged my mother,” she breathes. “And Lucy, too ,by taking his life. This man ruined her life, too. She was engaged and gave it all up to take care of my brothers and me.” Her hand touches her chest as if reaching for the missing locket. “She wanted me powerful so I could kill those that wronged my mother. And with lots of help, I’ve done it. The nest and Whitlow are dead.” Closing her eyes, she inhales deeply again.
I bite my tongue before I say anything about Lucy. I know how Aldo feels about her, but my mind roars with anger as I’m reminded of what Whit told me only days ago. A young girl set out into the world with no fucking idea of who, or what, she was, to settle a score her aunt thought necessary? What a bunch of fucking bullshit. My conversation with Lucy all those years ago replays in the back of my mind. How I insisted Lucy bring her to me and she refused. Did Lucy somehow know how I would fall for her niece, or was it all a gamble, a chance she was taking? It was a costly bluff, as now she herself and her nephews have been casualties, albeit Lucy herself was a willing casualty. If she knew Kitten was a hybrid, she knew Aldo would be alluring. Could she have used her niece as bait, knowing I’d fall for her, and do anything to help or protect her? Taking a deep breath I turn and exit the shed, leaving Kitten inside. Anger can make us do and say things we wouldn’t normally, and I know I need to distance myself from her before I say anything hurtful.
“Daniel,” she calls my name as she rushes after me. “Did you get my message in time?”
“What message?” I shout, causing her to step back.
She narrows her eyes at me, but doesn’t acknowledge my outburst. “The voicemail. I had a dream last night.”
“And?”
Pressing her lips together she closes her eyes briefly, clearly not liking my tone, but then opens them again and continues. “I never told you, but Bridge has a gift. He knows when someone is lying. Please . . .” she grasps my forearm and squeezes, emphasizing her words. “tell me he didn’t ask you about where we were staying, or anything that could lead him to this farm.”
I shake my head. What she’s saying is impossible. “That’s not possible. I would know that about him. Secondly, even if he knew I was lying, how would he know where we really were?”
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in frustration. “He sees truth in lies. If you lie, he automatically sees the truth.”
Letting out a ragged breath, I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “And how do you know this?” I grumble, still not believing it.
“I figured it out in my dreams, back in Myrtle beach. He asked me about my family, and I lied. Then one night at dinner, he started telling a story about triplets and a house fire and the aunt dying. Do you remember?”
I try to think and a memory surfaces. Kitten told me about her aunt and her brothers later on, but I never connected it with the story Bridge told that night because, frankly, I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy staring at her. So she knew this about Bridge and never told me? Why?
“And why is it you’ve waited until now to share this atomic bomb of shit with me?”
She smiles bitterly, shaking her head. “What’s your problem?” she snaps. “You lied to me about meeting Bridge. I’m the one that should be pissed off right now.”
“Really?” I laugh at her ridiculousness.
“As soon as I discovered you were meeting with him—ya know, in my fucking dreams,” she points to her head, “not from you, who should’ve told me the truth, and therefore would have known about your ex-best fucking friend who was your ‘OLDEST’” she makes quotations with her fingers “ally, being a walking lie detector. As soon as I figured out what you were doing, I called you and tried to tell you.”
“So this is all my fault for not telling you I was meeting with him? You’re right, I should’ve told you.” I don’t know whether to laugh, or roar at her. I step back and shrug. “I mean, you haven’t been a loose cannon, or anything, as of late. How ridiculous of me to think you might freak out at the mention of his name.”
“Am I not yours? Do I not deserve to know the truth of where you’re going?” She holds her hands out to the side.
“And what would’ve happened if I had told you?” I growl. “You would’ve tried to come with me, or been pissed I was going which would’ve probably led to you trying to rip my head off!”
“So that’s your excuse for lying to me?”
“There are things I have to do!” I boom. “I have no choice sometimes, and regardless of how you feel about it, I have to go, and I need to do it without worrying you’ll get yourself in some kind of fucking predicament that forces me to make rash fucking decisions!”
Her eyes are wide. “Wait a minute,” she says, lowering her voice. “I realize all that shit in South Carolina was immature of me, but I promised you that night before Bridge took me, I’d listen. And since you found me . . . I have!”
“Yeah well it’s going to take a little more than three or four days to prove yourself, Kitten,” I reply bitterly.
“Fuck you, Daniel,” she replies quietly as she crosses her arms. “That was a low blow.”
She’s right. It was, but it was the truth. Rubbing my face roughly, I tilt it to the sky and groan in frustration. “Damn, you make me mad, woman!” I shout.
She stares at me in disbelief. “You have the audacity to be pissed off at me right now?”
The rational side of me says to rein it in, attempt to keep my cool, but I can’t. Everything feels like it’s falling on top of me, and the weight is smothering. “Pissed at you? Noooo, never,” I say sardonically. “I mean, you are innocent in all of this, right?” She winces with my words, and even though I know that was another low blow, I continue. “And FYI, meeting Bridge was a disaster, and now I’ve come back to find my woman, who is pregnant with my child, torturing her father in nothing but her fucking underwear! I mean, have you seen yourself? You’re practically naked and covered head to toe in blood. I walked in that shed to see you playing with his fucking eyeball like a ping-pong ball talking about—did your eyes look like his. So on top of your stellar reputation to make horrible and irrational decisions, you’ve snapped.”
Taking one step toward me, she shoves me hard and glares at me. I stumble back more from shock than her force. “Maybe I have snapped, Daniel, but you won’t make me feel bad about it,” she sneers as her lips peel back, exposing her clenched teeth. “That man . . .” she shakes her head as she swallows back the anger. “That man mutilated me for weeks. He treated my body like a fucking science experiment! You wanna play the blame game?” she laughs bitterly before shoving me again. “I told you Bridge was a piece of shit, and you,” she jabs my chest hard with one finger, “laughed at me. Told me he couldn’t help it. It was my ‘female hybrid allure,’” she mocks. My fists clench with her words as regret and guilt seize me. My girl is taking me blow for blow; although, her words felt more like a kick in the balls.
“Have I made shit choices in the past?” she continues and shoves me again, causing me to stumble back, this time from the force. “Oh, yes, and guess what? Every time he sliced me open, burned me, the countless hours he left me submerged in water until my flesh softened and began to separate, I had no one to blame but myself.” She shoves me harder this time, groaning a sob as she does. “I get it. I fucked all of us, and I’m sorry. But I’m dealing with it the best way I know how, and if you think lying to me, like EVERYONE has done my entire life is wise then you’re no better than they are!”
“Oh, so now you want to talk to me about what happened to you, huh?” I shout, stepping toward her, causing her to take a step back. I’m towering over her tiny form, and even though she stepped back, she’s not backing down. I am mad as hell at her right now, but it turns me on that she doesn’t cower to me. “I’ve asked for you to tell me, to lean on me so we can get through this, and all you do is shut me out! I’m not a fucking mind reader, Aldo. You can’t expect any of us to understand why you’re behaving like a fucking lunatic when you won’t talk!”
“So I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t,” she laughs bitterly. “You haven’t forgiven me for the past, and now I’m a pain in your ass in the present.” Her head bows, and she stares at the ground for a moment. The fight seeps out of her and puddles to the ground at her feet, and although I’m fucking mad as hell at her for everything right now, it crushes me to see it. “I’m a curse,” she whispers. “It would be best for me to just . . . disappear.”
Those words light me on fire. It’s no secret she’s just ‘disappeared’ before, and if I’m being honest, it’s one of my biggest fears; she’ll get some cockamamie idea in her head again, and leave me without a word. I don’t do well with fear, or most emotions for that matter. They always somehow warp into anger, and that’s what I feel right now. Really fucking angry.
Gripping her chin with one hand, I force her eyes to meet mine. “Stop saying stupid bullshit like that. You try to fucking leave me, I’ll hunt you down and break your legs.” I growl. Okay, so I’ve been an asshole to her, and now she wants to leave me. That will never happen. Ever. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I’m wrong for yelling at her, but it also occurs to me it’s what couples do sometimes. They take out their frustrations on one another. It’s not fair to her, not really, but my anger is like a runaway train. It can’t be stopped.
“I don’t expect you to be okay right now. I know what happened, and goddamn, I want to hurt every mother fucker that touched you. But right now, war is coming, and I feel like on top of it all, I have to worry about you. Do you get that?” Suddenly all of my anger, fear, and anxiety takes hold of me, and I take her by her arms, shaking her. “Countless people are depending on me to fix this, and the only thing I can fucking think about is you. How are you? What are you doing? Are you going to rip someone’s throat out because they upset you? Are you going to run off and not tell anyone like you did in Myrtle Beach?” I shake her again. “That’s why I’m pissed! And to top off the Daniel O’Sullivan shitastic sundae that is my life right now, your brother has been turned, and the other one is dying. And yes, I did lie to Bridge, so things are fucking wonderful!”
Her eyes widen. “What did you lie about?” She seizes my arm tightly, her bloodied ashen face looking up to mine. “Tell me the exact question he asked you, and what you answered or lied about.”
“He asked if you were with me. I dodged the question, but then he asked where Cassia and Eileen were.”
“Fuck,” she breathes. Her dark eyes meet mine again, and all I see is shear terror. “Did you answer, or did you not say anything?”
“I lied and told him they were hidden, keeping an eye on everything to make sure he didn’t have anyone else with him,” I admit regrettably. “Don’t worry.” I take her hand in mine, my anger fading as I see the panic flitting across her features. “We can fight off Bridge,” I try to assure her.
“No, Daniel. You don’t understand. The whole thing with Fierce was a set-up.” She explains her dream, and Bridge and Fierce’s plan to lure me to Fierce using her as bait and kill me.
“He sacrificed his own people?”
“Yes, and when they killed you, Bridge would return to collect me. Fierce wanted me to kill Willow. That was all planned as well. If I killed her, it would ensure the wrath of her clan, and Fierce would have them as allies.”
Anger is a boat. It moves us through the choppy waters of emotion; of moments when we feel powerless against being wronged. But sometimes anger isn’t enough to carry us. Sometimes the situation is so evolved, no emotion can carry us. At that point, all you can do is accept it and move forward as best you can. That’s all I can do now—move me, and everyone on this farm, away to somewhere safe. “Then we need to get these people out of here.”
“I know,” she says before zipping inside the farmhouse, leaving me in the dust.
Bridge knows where we are, which means he’ll tell Fierce. Fierce will no doubt come here for Daniel, and Bridge will come for me and my unborn child. Everyone else will just be casualties. In my rush, I trip on the threshold of the front door and stumble in, but catch myself before I crash to the floor.
In the living room, Hudson sits in the recliner, elbows to his knees and face in his hands. Lila is sitting on the arm rest, hugging him, tears streaming down her face. Eileen and Flynn, Cassia and Nick are spread out, standing in the room. Cassia holds Beau, bouncing slightly to keep him from crying.
I move to Hudson and fall to my knees before him and begin to sob, too. “I’m so sorry, Hudson. I’m so sorry.”
He looks up, his red and tear filled gaze meeting mine, and winces. I forgot I’m still covered in blood and Whitlow’s ash. “It’s not your fault.”
“It is my fault.” I take his hands.
“They won’t let me see Whit,” he says bitterly.
Resting my forehead on our joined hands on his knees, I sigh. “I know you want to see him, but he’s dangerous right now. He won’t be himself for a little while.”
“So I’m going to die, and I won’t even get to say goodbye to my twin,” he says quietly. His words are like a knife to my heart, and Lila’s sob of agony is the twisting of that knife.
“You don’t have to die,” I choke out. “Hudson, we can fix this. We can change you.”
“No,” he says adamantly.
“But Huds—”
“I said no,” he repeats and stands.
“Babe, just—”
“Lila,” he says her name firmly as he interrupts her. “No. My life, my choice.” He pushes by me where I still sit on the floor and pulls away from Lila’s hold on his arm. “I’m going to lie down for a minute.”
The room is silent as we listen to his steps ascending the stairs, moving down the hall, and then hear the door shut. My gaze meets Lila who is holding a balled up tissue to her mouth as she tries to contain her crying. “Lila,” I flounder for something comforting to say to her. “He just needs some time to think,” I say, knowing it’s not true. Hudson has made up his mind. There’s no changing it.
“Aldo,” Lila says my name and the anger is evident in her tone. “You are my best friend, but right now, you need to get the fuck away from me.”
My eyes widen in shock as tears continue to stream down my face. To see the hurt and anger in her gaze burns me so deeply the pain is almost choking. “Lila, I—”
“Have always made every decision for yourself, not caring what it did to your brothers,” she interrupts me. “And I get it. You needed revenge, but at what cost?” she shouts. “Whit is a blood healer now, and Hudson is dying.” She stands up and wipes at her face before staring down at me. “Has it been worth it?” Not waiting for me to answer, she takes Beau from Cassia and stomps out of the room.
Remaining on my knees, seated on the heels of my feet, I stare numbly at the recliner where my brother and his wife just sat. Lucy used to tell me the past does not define us. It helps mold who we are, but our wrongs do not write who we will be. My mind drifts to Rachel and her gift to see decisions. She told me, “Yesterday is gone, and so is what could have been. There is only the decision before you now. You will be asked to make a choice. One that may define your future, who you will be. You will walk a fine line between right and wrong. You will battle instinct over trust.” And death will bring death.
But she never told me what the decision was. Later, she gave me a warning, telling me not to kill him. So I let the doctor live, and because of that decision, he almost killed my brother. She said I would battle instinct over trust. My instinct was to kill Whitlow, but I didn’t trust myself. Because of the state I’ve been in, I was too scared I’d make the wrong choice. Not killing him would be the decision that led to the demise of someone I love. Now I know her vision was flawed. She didn’t see one person I love dying, she saw my twin brothers both dying. In essence, becoming a blood healer is death. Although they exist, they are not alive—not by human standards. Death will bring death. Whit’s death would bring Hudson’s death. But why would she tell me not to kill him? If she knew his death would prevent this?
“Kitten,” Daniel whispers, his hand finding my shoulder. I quickly stand and brush him off, wiping my face, smearing blood and ash. Lila’s words are like a thousand knives stabbing me everywhere, and they sound just like what Daniel was saying to me only minutes ago. This is all my fault. All of it. Every decision I’ve made led us to here. Now, my brothers are hurt, I’ve broken Rhett’s heart, I’ve ruined everything Daniel and the hybrid’s worked so hard for, and I’ve started a war with the lycans, who could come here and kill all of these innocent kids.
“We have to get everyone out of here.”
“I found Thomas,” he answers. “There’s an underground bunker hidden under the barn. He’s moving everyone to it until we can figure out where to take them.”
“Good.” I nod.
“What’s the plan?” Flynn asks, and when I turn my head to him, Cassia, Nick, and Eileen are all wearing the same question on their faces.
“Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll explain everything to the others, and we’ll work out a plan.”
Okay,” I say quietly before leaving the room. Being alone is all I really want right now.
When Kitten leaves, Flynn, Eileen, Cassia, Nick, and I head outside. “We’ve got a bad problem. We’ve been set-up.” I get straight to the point.
“Eileen explained everything,” Nick clarifies, scratching at his trimmed white beard.
