Objective: (Bloodlines Book 2) (27 page)

“Do you have a point, Ezra?” I grind out.

“She didn’t tell you, did she?” he asks, apparently genuinely surprised. His eyes shoot to Mags and he arches an eyebrow at her. She immediately looks away and pales. The dried blood in the corner of her mouth makes me wince and my stomach roll. What am I missing?

“Tell me what,
Mags?” I say, turning fully to her.

“Tell him, Cypress!” Ezra laughs. Tears start streaming down her face but she doesn’t speak. She looks like she might be sick and won't look me in the eye.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” I roar in frustration. “Ezra, what the hell aren’t you telling me?”

“I took a taste of your lady, Cane. Don’t worry, your sweet little girl didn’t go along willingly, always so loyal to you, but I got to see what all the hype was about.” He watches me carefully. I’m shocked to the core. Numb. Furious. Hurt. Broken. His mouth keeps moving but I barely hear anything he’s saying. Things snap into place. Motives, the changes in her, the lifeless empty eyes. I feel like I might break under the weight of the guilt. She’s been living with the guilt of
thinking
that she killed me but really the guilt should have been mine. I wasn’t home. I didn’t protect her. I involved her in my sordid life. I let her down in the worst way possible and then I led her right back to the sick fuck who killed her inside. Red, my vision turns red. “Then you came home, early. She’s a cunning little thing, you know? She laid there like a good girl while I cleaned up, but the little bitch grabbed your pistol as I was leaving and…well you know the rest.” He snickers. His eyes shine black, deep and wild like I’ve never seen them before.

“W-Why?” I stammer. “Why would you do that to her? To me? To us?!” I scream, rage coursing through my body at an alarming rate.

“It was perfect really, I lived, you lived, and she was out of the picture. I thought you’d get your head back in the game. I needed you. Only problem with it all was that she took something of value from me. After a couple months when you still hadn’t snapped out of it I had to figure out a different plan. I needed you to get the fuck over her and recover the fucking pack - neither of which you’ve managed to do. Now I’m going to have to deal with this my way.” I spin slowly to face Magnolia. My sweet, sweet girl is shaking with such force that I’m sure she’s about to fall out of the chair or break it from the force of her movements. I search her face, hoping that this is all some sick story Ezra made up, but I can see in her eyes that it's all true. He violated her in the worst way. He violated me, too, because of it. I swallow the lump in my throat and slowly turn back to my uncle. Reaching into the waistband of my pants at my back I draw my gun. I aim it at him and begin trembling slightly.

“I wasn’t yours to mess with,
Ez, she wasn’t yours to mess with. I am
nothing
like you. I would
never
rape someone. Ever! You’re a sick, sick, motherfucker!” I scream. Ezra doesn’t flinch, doesn't even gesture over the goons; instead he cackles, loudly. The blood rushing through my ears makes his laugh sound more evil than it probably is. Before another thought crosses my mind I pull the trigger. There’s a terrified scream that pierces the air as I watch Ezra fall to the floor clutching his chest. There’s a strange sense of
deja vu
. Mags, she screamed when the gun fired that horrible day, only I was in the way then. This time, no one tried to save Ezra. My mind snaps back to the present and I turn to Mags to cut her ties. “We have to leave. Now.” I scoop her into my arms and haul ass out of the house. Jimmy and Dave are nowhere to be found as I stick my head out of the apartment door. Ezra’s biggest problem was finding truly loyal people to work with him. The problem he always ignored when I brought it up was that if you treat people like shit, even those closest to you, they won’t stick around long.

When we get to the truck I set
Mags down carefully into the passenger seat and buckle her in while taking in our surroundings. No one’s around and nothing looks out of place. I jog around to the driver’s side, hop in and throw it into drive. Mags is staring blankly out the window, silent. It makes me nervous to see her so calm. I fish my cell from my pocket and dial the one person who has a shot in hell of helping us.

“I fucked up,” I blurt into the phone.

“Spit it out,” he clips.

“I need you to meet us. Somewhere safe.”

“Us?” he grunts.

“Magnolia and me.”

He agrees and after we hang up he texts me an address. I punch it into the navigation and start following the directions.

“I can live without you, I’ve done it for so long now, but I don't want to, not anymore,” I tell her once we’re safely away from the apartment and on the road. She’s been silent all this time, just staring out the window, trembling. I’ve been checking my mirrors for the past thirty minutes for a tail but so far, it seems no one’s on to us. She doesn’t respond. She just stares out the window blankly.

Chapter 20

Two hours later we’re somewhere near Lake Arrowhead in the middle of the woods on a dirt drive.

“Where are we going?” She speaks softly, as if her voice might shatter the air between us.

“A safe house.” There’s a light shining through the trees up ahead. As it gets closer I see a truck parked near a cabin. I haven’t made contact with my contact in twelve months. But in my panic I couldn’t see a better option for safety. Bentley James had been the only other person outside of
Mags who was trying to get me out and away from Ezra with few or no casualties. So much for that. I'd contacted him after I'd woken up, and had told him if he found her first to keep her safe. I was still in hiding and didn't have the inside daily edge on Ezra at that point, so we both felt it wasn’t safe to risk meeting anymore.

“Stay here,” I tell her as I throw the car in park. She nods and continues to stare out the window. I don’t know how to deal with her emptiness. She’s turned off, completely shut down and it’s scaring the shit out of me. I felt like I just got her back. Why the hell wouldn’t she just disappear with me when I'd asked her to? This could have all been avoided.

I trot up the path to the front door but before I can knock Bentley swings it open and looks pissed. “Where’s
Mags?” he barks. Jesus, what’s his problem?

“Hi, Bentley, oh hey - if they find out I'm talking to you, they'll kill me. Nice to see you too,” I deadpan. “She’s in the car. Safe and completely in shock. I’m worried.” His creased brow
smoothes out and he pushes past me for the car.

“Bentley, wait!” I call. He doesn’t get to comfort her, that’s my job. Then again, I can’t imagine an acquaintance bringing much comfort to her anyways. He swings the
door open and Mags stares up at him, completely bewildered. Her eyes change from vacant to warm to shocked.

“Bentley?” she breathes, bottom lip trembling.

“Princess, are you hurt?” he coos at her. Princess? What the fuck is going on? Her eyes stare up at him wildly, nostrils flaring. Her lips are a thin straight line now.

“What. The. Fuck?” she bites out in a calm, determined tone. Not the response I imagined but my sentiments exactly. I elbow Bentley out of the way and drop to my knees in front of her.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask, trying to calm her. Her eyes leave Bentley’s and move to mine, rage burning beneath their surface. Hard and angry.

“Who the fuck ARE you?!” she screeches. She starts violently shaking in her seat and I am at a complete loss for what to do next.

“Move,” Bentley commands.

“Screw you!” I bark over my shoulder. “
Mags? Talk,” I push. She looks down at where my hand holds hers and yanks it from my grip. Swinging her legs out, she knocks me off balance and leaps out of the car.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on but if either one of you fucking come near me I will beat you within an inch of your life,” she growls at us. I push up, brushing the dirt from my knees and approach her.

“I wouldn’t,” Bentley sighs. Who does he think he is? I spin around, fists clenched, and face him.

“Talk,” I spit.

“I watched her for you,” he shrugs. Magnolia gasps behind me.

“Seems like a little more,” I grind out.

“We got involved, Cane. It just happened. I care for her.” Red fills my vision again. I trusted him. I asked him to keep an eye on her. To keep her safe. I did not ask him to love her or befriend her. I charge him, swinging and cussing. He doesn’t back down, or move at all. The bastard lets me pummel him. It’s not cathartic at all. It soothes nothing in my chest right now but I keep my fist moving, connecting over and over with his face.

“STOP,” a frail voice commands. Bentley’s face is bloody as he lies in the dirt, looking away. I swivel my head around to Magnolia.

“You’re both scum,” she whispers, before turning on her heel and stumbling inside. My heart cracks wide open at the sight. Her fight seems to have left her. She carries herself like she's broken down and done trying, shoulders slumped. How would either one of us explain that we knew each other? How would I explain to her that my need to make sure she was safe always outweighed my job, my family, my own anger and confusion? Things were already so fucked up - I never anticipated that they could get any more complicated.

I storm into the cabin after her.

“Magnolia, stop! Let me explain!” I shout at her back.

She swings around to face me, her skin flushed and with tears in her eyes. “You think that I don't know you? You are dead wrong. The only thing that has ever come out of your mouth is lies. God dammit!” she shrieks, throwing her hands in the air. “I don’t want to hear your explanation. I wouldn't believe a word of it at this point.” Her voice trails off, showing her true exhaustion. She points to a door to her left. “I am sleeping in there. You are not welcome, nor is Bentley. Try not to kill each other before morning.” She shoves the door open and slams it loudly behind her. I walk to the door and put my ear to it. A loud thwack assaults my eardrum as something hits the door on the other side with great force. I jump back, worried that she knows I’m there, and slide down the wall until I’m sitting. Her soft whimpers are the only sound in the cabin and each one wrecks me a little more than the last. Why can’t I get anything right?

Bentley stumbles back into the cabin some time later. I’m still in my spot on the floor outside her bedroom door. He grunts at me but doesn't say anything as he passes me to the kitchen area. He reaches in the freezer and pulls out a bag of frozen corn, and presses it gingerly to his face as he leans against the counter.

“How could you?” I grouse at him. He shakes his head, keeping his nose tilted up in the air to keep the corn resting just right.

“It wasn't intentional. You didn't see her, dammit. It was bad. I couldn't keep her safe from a distance because she had no friends. No interaction with anyone. She isolated herself completely. She almost killed herself drinking those first few months. It was fucking bad, man. You were lucky you didn't have to watch her disintegrate day by day. That girl you lived with, the happy, studious, college student who gave a shit about everything and anything disappeared. I got to know the new woman. The changed woman. And I couldn’t keep away. It just happened. I was there for her...not replacing you, just there for the new her. It wasn’t intentional, it just happened slowly over time. I am so sorry, man,” he finishes.

The worst part of his whole rant is that I get it. I wasn’t innocent. I tried to screw Magnolia out of my heart but I always woke up loving her. He fell for the part of her I don’t understand or know, and maybe she fell for him out of that same part of herself. This morning I thought I was the only man she’d ever been with, only to find out in one day that I’m just the first of three. It breaks my heart. Worse is knowing she was just starting to try and move on to love someone else. It’s like no matter what, I fuck up her life. The crushing feeling deep in my chest is worse than living under the pretense that she tried to kill me on purpose. This hurt is different. I don't know whether to hold onto her, to fight for her, or to let her go so she can find a shred of happiness, uncomplicated happiness, in her life.

“I shot Ezra,” I reply, moving our conversation to an easier topic.

“Damn...” he groans.

“He was going to kill her, Bent. He raped her. The sick fuck told me he did it. My own uncle. She never told me. That night, the entire situation was so far off from what I thought it was. She wasn’t trying to kill me, she was trying to kill him.” I watch as Bentley’s face registers surprise, then understanding.

“It makes sense now...” he mumbles.

“There’s more. He was going on about the pack, the one she took. When she said she spent the money, that it was gone, he didn’t seem to care. The backpack was mine. I almost always had it with me, but he seems
fixated on it. Something’s up.”

“Did you kill him?” he asks, shifting the bag of corn over his left eye.

“It was a slug to the chest, close range, but we both know you can survive that. I’m not sure. I cut Mags loose and ran. I didn’t wait around to find out if he had a pulse.” I watch as Bentley drags a hand down the good side of his face and grunts in frustration.