Knights Burden (Rumblin' Knights, #4), Page 3

  Brody offered Mick a job, which he accepted, but it doesn’t seem to be helping. Mick drinks a lot, I mean ... a lot. He goes out every night, where, we don’t know. When he comes back he’s drunk and constantly mumbling to himself. Something is very wrong, and with every passing day, Brody becomes more concerned.

  “Not really sure what to do,” Brody tells me the next night when we’re sitting on our porch, waiting for Mick to come home. It’s past nine in the evening.

  “There isn’t much you can do. You know that, you’ve been in a broken place before. It didn’t matter what anyone said or did, you weren’t going to let them help.”

  Brody exhales, sipping his beer. “Somethin’s got him fucked up. He mumbles a lot in his sleep, last night I heard him scream out. Somethin’ happened over there, and it’s botherin’ him. He’s lookin’ for somethin’, I just don’t know what it is.”

  “Have you asked him?”

  Brody shakes his head. “No, I haven’t. Didn’t think that was wise. Didn’t want to trigger him.”

  I nod, understanding. “Maybe if you’re gentle about your approach, you could just ask him if everything is going okay. If he says it’s fine, you don’t have to push, but maybe he needs someone to talk to.”

  It’s just a suggestion, but even I don’t know if it’s the right one. Maybe asking him will trigger something and it’ll go really badly. I don’t know, all I know is the man is obviously struggling and he’s obviously not coping.

  A cab slows out the front of our house, distracting me from the conversation. I look over to see Mick getting out of it. He throws some money angrily at the driver, then turns to face us, and I gasp. Brody gasps. We both stare at the bruised, bloodied, battered man who now stumbles toward us. He’s beat up. Real good. What in the hell was he doing?

  “Man,” Brody says, standing and walking down the front steps, “what the fuck happened?”

  “I joined a fight. It’s nothing,” Mick slurs, shoving Brody away when he tries to help him up the few porch steps.

  “It’s not fuckin’ nothin’,” Brody growls. “Look at you, you’re fucked up, sit down so I can clean this shit up.”

  “I’m fine, Brody,” Mick growls.

  “You’re not fuckin’ fine, let me help you.”

  Brody reaches for Mick again, and it’s like a switch is flipped. One minute Brody is on the porch, the next Mick is throwing him, almost quite literally, off the porch. Brody’s large body topples when Mick grabs his shoulders and hauls him out of the way. It topples right off the porch, down the two steps, and onto the grass in the front lawn. I gasp and stand up, but stop immediately when Mick roars, “I’m fuckin’ capable of taking care of myself. I’ve been out there a-fucking-lone, Brody. You were meant to come with me, but you got fucking whipped, you chickened out, you let me go alone and fuckin’ see shit,” Mick’s voice cracks, then he growls, “I don’t need your fucking help. Not now. Not ever.”

  Then he stumbles inside, smearing bloodied handprints from his busted up knuckles on the wall as he slams the door.

  I look to Brody, who is on his feet now, panting with rage. It’s the hurt that gets me the most, though. That blinding hurt in his eyes. The one that says Mick’s words just cut him to his very core. I know how much that would affect him, I know it and I’m smart enough not to ask if he’s okay, or if he needs help. I’m smart enough to stay exactly where I am, eyes locked on his, hoping that somewhere in their depths, he can see that I’m here, if he needs.

  He turns and walks off, limping slightly.

  He turns left and disappears down the street.

  I glance back toward the front door and wonder if it’s worth going inside.

  I don’t know what I’m supposed to do right now.

  I have a feeling, though, that this is the beginning of the end.

  4

  NOW – MELANIE

  I WALK OUT OF THE ROOM and straight into Lucy with a coffee in her hand. She smiles at me, giving me a sympathetic look which I automatically dislike, but I don’t hold it against her because I’d probably do the same if I knew someone else in my shoes. I mean, I guess it looks pretty bad, you know, what I’ve been through. So I can’t blame her for the current look she’s giving me, even if it does agitate me just a little.

  “How did you sleep?” she asks me.

  I shrug. “Actually really well. I guess not being around everything kind of helps.”

  She nods, as if understanding, but we both know she doesn’t. I appreciate it all the same.

  “I made you coffee. I have no idea if you like coffee or not, but ...”

  “Who doesn’t like coffee?” I say, taking it from her with a smile.

  I might be broken, but I’m not ungrateful. I was raised a whole lot better than that.

  “Right,” she laughs. “If you’d like a shower, there are towels in the bathroom. I’m making breakfast, if you’re hungry. I should warn you, Finn and Erin are on their way over, Lincoln and Slater too. I hope you’re okay with that, there was no stopping them.”

  I figured they’d want to get right into it, I can’t say I blame them. That’s why I’m here after all, isn’t it?

  To try and find Brody.

  To try and stop whatever mess he’s gotten himself into.

  Death matches.

  The thought makes me physically sick to my stomach.

  “That’s okay, the sooner we get started the better I suppose.” I shrug.

  She smiles, relieved. “Okay, well, I’m going to keep making breakfast. Come out when you’re ready.”

  I nod and watch her disappear. She’s nice, really nice, and not over the top which is a pleasant change. I sip my coffee as I walk into the bathroom, checking out her little apartment. It’s cute, clean, and has a good vibe. I’ve forgotten how it feels to be in a house with a good vibe. When bad shit happens, it doesn’t just affect you, it affects your house. Laugh all you want, but that bad crap, it sticks to everything like glue. It’ll take all the nice feelings, the great atmosphere, and turn it dark. It’ll make good memories turn bad and make the place you once loved feel like a dungeon.

  This doesn’t feel like that.

  I’m glad.

  I finish up my coffee, have a shower in the overly girly bathroom, and then walk out to find everyone has arrived and Lucy is making all of them breakfast. I guess they smelt the food and decided to join in. Four heads turn when I enter the room, and I give them a weak smile and raise my hand. “Morning.”

  “Mornin’, darlin’,” Lincoln says, before stuffing a pancake into his mouth.

  “Mornin’,” Slater murmurs. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Well, actually. Thanks.”

  “How are you feeling?” Erin smiles, pulling a chair out beside her.

  These people, they’re good people.

  I immediately feel like I made the right choice coming here.

  Finn nods as I walk over and sit down. Finn knows Brody, Finn is closest to him, Finn is going to be the most tuned in to how this all turns out.

  He cares about him, I can see that much.

  He’s been helping him, which I appreciate.

  If he hadn’t, Brody could already be gone and we’d have no chance.

  “I’m okay,” I tell Erin, as Lucy slides a plate in front of me full to the brim of breakfast foods. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, syrup. It looks delicious. I wonder how long it has been since I’ve eaten such a hearty meal. Mostly, I’ve been living on microwave meals when I get the chance, which isn’t often.

  Aria has made it known that I’ve lost too much weight.

  But, when your heart gets broken and your world turns upside down, you tend to stop caring about the little things, like food.

  It makes me wonder how I ever turned to food for comfort. Because at a time like this, it’s the last thing I want.

  Though this breakfast looks incredible.

  “Thank you, Lucy, this looks amazing.”

  Lucy grins, shrugging
. “You’re welcome.”

  She disappears back into the kitchen and I notice Finn studying me, like maybe if he looks hard enough, he’ll find answers.

  “You won’t get the answers you’re looking for staring at me, Finn. You’ll never understand Brody, not until the day you die, I promise you that.”

  He clenches his lips tightly and nods. “Figured as much.”

  “Hate to ruin your mornin’ first up,” Lincoln says, “but we’re runnin’ out of time. We really need to find Brody as quickly as we can. Need your help to do that.”

  “Yeah,” I say, my stomach immediately twisting at the thought.

  It’s safe to say I’ve thought a million times over what it’s going to be like when I see Brody again. I know he’ll be angry, but will he still love me? Does he still care? Will he come with me? Or has he gone so far down the rabbit hole that he won’t care if I’m there or not? That thought scares me the most.

  What if he feels nothing anymore?

  I mean, he did walk away, knowing he broke my heart, leaving me with an empty hole. If he truly loved me, could he have honestly done that?

  I don’t know the answer to that.

  All I know is the very thought of seeing Brody again spikes anxiety in me that’s almost uncontrollable.

  “Know this is hard on you,” Lincoln goes on, “so we appreciate you bein’ here and helpin’ us out.”

  “If anything, you’re all helping me out. I’ve been looking for quite some time.”

  “You had no idea he was here?” Finn asks.

  “No, I didn’t. It took a while to go through all his friends. I found some stuff at home that made me think he’d come here.”

  “What sort of stuff?” Finn asks.

  “He had your name printed out, and you had come to visit him and he had your number and some other details written down. As well as something about a fighting ring.”

  “Yeah, I run a ring,” Lincoln says.

  Makes sense to me now why he followed up Finn. A lead into the fighting world. I didn’t know if Finn ran it, or was part of it, but now I see Lincoln runs it, and that would have been Brody’s way in.

  “He came to you because he knew you had a foot in the door, I guess,” I say softly.

  Finn tightens his lips. “I should have sent him away, but there was this look in his eyes ... I knew if I sent him away, he’d probably be killed and I couldn’t live with that. Helping him meant we could watch him, help him out, guide him ... in a sense.”

  “I appreciate it, you likely bought him some time.”

  Finn nods.

  “You ready to tell us who he’s after, and why?” Lincoln asks me.

  I press my lips together. “I don’t know the whole story, which makes me look stupid, I know, but Brody kept it pretty under wraps. I can only tell you what I saw, the parts I witnessed, the rest of it, he kept away from me. Which is the reason this has been so hard for me. I can’t find him, because I don’t know everything about where he’s even going.”

  Slater leans forward. “Just tell us what you do know. Every little bit counts.”

  “His best friend killed himself,” I say, and my voice cracks. That memory. The moment I heard Brody had found Mick. Dead. It’ll haunt me until the day I die. Not only did Brody live through a woman in his life killing herself, he had it happen to his best friend years later, and of course, he blames himself for all of it. Which meant it broke him. It totally and completely broke him.

  The day Mick died was the day Brody died, too.

  Everyone is silent for a moment as I take a deep breath and fight back the pain in my chest as I relive the horrible memories that I’d much rather forget. “His best friend was in the Army. He came back, things were messed up. I don’t know all the details. I just know something happened over there and he was in a bad way. He started fighting, it made him feel better, but things went south, and I don’t know what went on, but he had people after him. Things got too hard, it was all a big mess, and so he took his own life. As if coming back with the memory of what happened overseas wasn’t bad enough, owing a debt and hiding from bad people just made it a whole lot worse.”

  “He took his own life because of someone in the fighting world?” Lincoln asks. “Do you know who?”

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t. I’ve heard a few names getting thrown around. A few I can share with you, but I’m not sure they have any relation to this man running the show, calling the shots.”

  “Whoever it is, Brody can’t find him, either. He knows who he’s after, but he’s not gettin’ any information on where this man is. Was startin’ to bother him,” Finn tells me.

  “Brody is out for revenge. He wants to make him pay. He blames this person for sending Mick over the edge, for pushing him that last bit, but Mick was already broken when he came back. If it wasn’t this, it would have been something else. Still, I understand why he wants to seek his vengeance. In the end ... things were ... they were really bad.”

  “Mick lived with you?” Erin asks, her eyes soft with sympathy.

  “Yes, he did.”

  “I’m so sorry, honey.”

  I shrug, looking down at my hands, trying to keep it together. “It is what it is. I just want to end this for Brody. He’s had ... so much bad shit in his life. It broke him. It really broke him. I don’t know that he’ll ever come back from it, but if I can save him, at the very least ...”

  My voice cracks, and I grit my teeth, trying to keep it together.

  I won’t cry.

  I won’t.

  I swore I’d not shed another tear over Broderick. Not another tear.

  A hand curls around my shoulder, comforting. It’s Finn’s. “We’ll find him. We’ll end this for him. For you. So you can move on with your life. He can move on with his.”

  I don’t know that Brody will ever move on with his life, if I’m being honest. I think he’ll be forever searching for something to make it better. If he gets his revenge on this guy, then it’ll just be something else. But, maybe, just maybe, if this ends for him, he’ll at the very least not get himself killed.

  That’s all I can hope for now.

  It’s all I pray for.

  That he doesn’t get himself killed.

  “Brody will never move on with his life,” I whisper. “I don’t think he can be fixed.”

  “Everything can be fixed,” Lucy says, gently placing a hand on my back, “with the right kind of materials. He might not go back to perfect, but he can mend. We’re going to help you. You can stay here for as long as you like, okay?”

  I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, honey. Any time.”

  “We’re goin’ to start the search for Brody,” Lincoln tells us, “Damon is already on it. We’ve got some leads, but we’ll get the names and information you have, too. We’ll find him. I promise you.”

  But you can’t promise something so big.

  Even I know that.

  Still, I nod and give Lincoln an appreciative smile.

  “I do ask one thing,” I say, my voice soft, “that you let me be involved with it. I know you’re going to say no, that I’m a woman and I can’t deal, but you’d be surprised what I can handle. I need this ... please ...”

  They all look at each other, and I’m sure, so sure they’re going to say no. Everyone else I’ve asked for help thus far has told me they’ll “handle it” on their own. As far as I know, they’re still handling it, and I have no idea what’s come of it. No, this time I’m going to be right there every step of the way.

  “One thing I’ve learned about you ladies,” Lincoln says, “is that if I tell you no, you’ll do it anyway, and I’d rather you’re doin’ it with my supervision, than out doin’ it on your own. So I’ll let you in on it, but you follow my lead, orders and plans at all times. That clear?”

  I nod.

  Shocked.

  He’s going to let me in on it?

  I
knew they were the right choice.

  I knew, I just knew coming here would be the answer.

  Maybe, just maybe, we’ll find Brody safe and sound after all.

  Maybe.

  BRODY

  I SPIT BLOOD ONTO THE filthy concrete then push up, my body aching, my mind broken, but I still get to my feet. Broken and battered, I get to my fucking feet. Because I’ll find him. Because I won’t give up. I’ll get the justice Mick deserves. I’ll finish what he started. I’ll make sure that man rests in fucking peace, one way or another. He deserves that. At the very least.

  I fucking owe him that.

  “Still getting on your feet, even after that shot.” Rabbit laughs, swinging again, only this time I duck. Just barely, but I do.

  I stare at him, panting, wild with rage. “You said you’d give me his location. You told me you’d fuckin’ give it to me, if I kept standing. I’m standing. Now give me what I want.”

  “I never stated how long I wanted you to keep gettin’ back up, now did I?”

  Wild rage takes over my body and I swing, connecting with his lower left jaw. The crunching sound as it breaks fills the room. We had a deal. He beat me, without me fighting back, and if I took it, he’d give me the name. I fucking took it. Now he’s screwing me over, so I won’t take it anymore.

  Rabbit spins around, blood dripping from his mouth, and the fight begins. Really begins. I’m not holding back now. I don’t appreciate people who don’t hold up their end of the deal. No. Rabbit will go down as hard as the rest of them.

  I’ve practiced.

  I’ve fought.

  I’m ready.

  I unleash on him, showing him a side I’ve kept reserved for him. The man who took my fucking best friend away from me. Tonight, though, Rabbit can see what I’m made of. They call all start fucking seeing what I’m made of. I’m not holding back anymore. Fuck no.