Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three Kade

There’ssomething different about Scar as we walk out of the office. She seems lighter and darker all at the same time. One thing is for sure, she’s stronger than she’s ever been. Truly ready to discover whatever the next step in our journey is.

I’m almost jealous I didn’t think to piss on the fuckers the way Ry did. Kind of unhinged behavior, but I support it. At least all the water he was drinking makes sense now. Sick bastard.

Scar stops at the end of the hallway and takes a deep breath before searching out Charles.

“You ready to say goodbye to this place?” she asks him in a soft whisper.

He leans against her, but he’s barely staying on his own feet. Declan tightens his hold on his waist. He manages to kiss the top of her head softly. A few weeks ago it would have been enough to drive me mad, ready to launch my fist into his face. Now, I can’t seem to dredge up that same anger or jealousy.

Understanding their relationship was never in a romantic way did a lot to ease my jealousy, but it’s more than that. I never knew Charles in the past, only a jaded perspective of him. I never saw the way they leaned on each other, the way they supported and understood the other without needing words. I only ever saw the wounds he left her. I’m finally starting to get it. If Scar can leave her past in this burning mausoleum, so can I. We may never be best friends, but I can at least accept Scar needs him.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything,” he says, his voice thready. As soon as he pulls away from her, Declan sweeps him off his feet and begins to carry him. Charles’ body sags in his arms and a flash of the pain he must be in crosses his face. “Oh, Declan. At least take a guy to dinner first,” he jokes in spite of his worsening condition.

Luca rolls his eyes, but I recognize the concern he’s trying to hide. “If he’s okay enough to joke, he’s okay enough to walk.”

Charles drops his voice to a faux whisper. “I think you’re making your husband jealous.”

“I will drop your ass right here and leave you behind,” D threatens. The banter does more than anything else could to lighten the atmosphere. None of us are ignorant to how huge this final step is. It’s years and years of work coming to an end. The last page of a story that has been waiting to come to a close for a very long time.

“Scar would save me,” Charles argues back. “Wouldn’t you, Tootsie Roll? It would be such a nice full-circle moment, you know? Save me and carry me out of a burning building.”

Scar snorts and shakes her head, but the light in her eyes is all the confirmation I need. “I’m saving you by proxy,” she responds and pulls a match from her pocket. Then another. “Together?”

He nods. “Together.” She lights one and hands it to Charles before lighting the other.

“Goodbye,” she whispers and they both throw their matches down the hallway. They stand for a moment, watching as the flames take root and begin to spread.

“Let’s go, Ladybug,” I whisper in her ear. She looks up at me and smiles.

“There’s nothing left here for us,” she agrees and leads us all out the front door.

We stand on the front driveway, clear of the flames as we watch them spread and begin to consume the entire mansion. It happens faster than I would have expected. I guess the gasoline is to thank for that.

Scar closes her eyes and takes a step closer to the burning building. Not close enough to be in danger, but enough to feel the heat press against her skin. She closes her eyes as we all watch her in awe. A million pounds lifts off her shoulders as she takes deep breaths, the sound of shrill screams in the background.

A single tear trails down her cheeks and I know it’s not for the demons we finally put to rest but for the girl she used to be, the broken woman she’s been all these years. It’s time to say goodbye to both of them and become a new version of herself. One that is all the shattered pieces of her history, the deadly and vicious fragments all come together in a beautiful mosaic of loss and pain and hope and strength and love. Someone she never thought she could be. Healed but still dark. Whole but with both jagged and softened edges. A fearsome force to be reckoned with. A leader of a bloodthirsty gang. A loving mother. A cherished friend. A hot-as-fuck wife.

“Luca, do you have the photos?”

He hesitates at the shake in her voice, but caves as he hands a handful of photos to her. She smiles as she takes them and without even looking at the contents she wraps her hand around them and walks up to the flames and tosses the last of the evidence of that night into the fire.

Truly letting go.

The moment is broken as Declan shouts, “We need to move.”

Panic flashes across Scar’s face as we turn to find Charles unconscious in his arms. Fuck. He was even worse than we thought.

“He’s lost too much blood,” D explains as he rushes to the ambulance idling in the drive. He pushes the EMTs out of his way as he carries Charles’ limp body and carefully drops him onto the gurney. It’s a new side of Declan as he begins calling out orders to the EMTs who are quick to jump into action, getting the right blood type and hanging a bag as Declan inserts an IV. Noah wraps his arms around Scar. “He’s going to be okay, baby girl.”

“He is,” Declan vows. “But we need to get to the hospital so I can make sure he doesn’t have any internal bleeding and can get him stitched up properly.

The familiar cool mask of control slips over her features. “Let’s move,” she agrees, giving her own orders. We’re quick to follow her instructions, splitting up to finish this job and tie up the remaining loose ends. Noah follows Joe and the others to take care of the final pieces, while the rest of us climb into the Escalade and follow Declan and Charles to the hospital.

I stick close to the ambulance, running through lights with them as Scar sits anxiously at my side. She needs to be there with him. I finally understand it. Even feel it myself. Against all odds he’s weaseled his way into our family.

* * *

“Well, you look better,”Scar teases as soon as we walk through the door into the private room Declan had prepared for Charles.

He flips her off, but his lips twitch. He really does look much better than when we last saw him. The color is back in his face, and while he’s moving carefully, at least he’s moving. “Who needs a gallbladder anyways?”

Declan sighs a huge sigh from the doorway. “You would have been able to keep yours if you had gotten help right away.”

“And miss the fireworks? No way.” He grins as Scar squeezes his hand and leans over the bed to kiss his cheek.

“I want to yell at you, but I happen to agree with you.” Of course she does. Little minx would have made the exact same decision if she had been the one hurt. As a matter of fact, she didn’t make it out of that house without her own injuries. A few bruised ribs should have slowed her down at least a little bit, but unfortunately for all of us that has not been the case in the slightest.

Charles adjusts his bed to a less reclined position and Scar helps him adjust the pillows behind him. “How did the rest of the plan turn out?”

He lasted longer than I thought he would. “Have you turned on the news?” I ask and when he shakes his head I grab the remote and turn it on, quickly flipping through every major news network to show the story that’s gripped the nation and rocked the people to their core. I pause at the last one as a female reporter runs through the story.

Answers to the almost decade-long mystery have been found in the ashes of the estate behind me. Many will remember the horrors that took place in a similar estate in this very same town eight years ago now. The tales of the Fallen Prom Queen and the Lost Princesses has haunted this nation since almost the entire Devereaux family was killed in a murder/suicide after the father raped and abused the eldest daughter. The mystery only grew stranger as the heiress survived the fire that took her family and childhood from her, multiple surgeries, and months in the hospital only to disappear from her foster home just weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday. Conspiracies have run wild with what could have happened to her and where she is now. Finally, we have some answers and they’re even worse than the public ever could have imagined.

I turn it off and Charles beams at Scar. “Everyone knows.”

She nods. “They died and will be remembered as the demons they are. Our tracks are covered and the public believes it was guilt that led them to their own suicide pact.”

“They stabbed each other fourteen times and shoved dicks down each other’s throats?” He eyes her sarcastically.

She shrugs with a familiar savage smile. She’s the confident badass I met in Steel Roses that first night, but as she holds my hand and leans against me, she’s also the Letty that lit up every room she walked into. Light and dark in equal measures. Flames and shadows and ice. A true goddess.

“Coroner reported the bodies lost to the fire and dental records were used to confirm the identities.”

Charles huffs and I pull Scar closer to me, enjoying her warmth. “How much of the bodies were left?”

“Enough for our contact to call her up and give her shit for her twisted mind.”

Charles laughs and instantly regrets it as he winces. “Suicide notes?” His voice is strained as he tries to adjust his position in the bed to ease the pull from his stitches.

“Noah took care of all that,” Scar says, waving him off. “We knew everything would be lost to the flames. He took care of everything, even evidence prior to us setting the fire.”

“Remind me not to get on your guys’ bad sides,” he jokes.

I snort. “You’ve already been there. For all of us. Somehow you’re still here.”

He grins, reminding me how much of a cheeky little shit he actually is. Something I wasn’t expecting but should have seen coming. He and Scar are a little too alike. Their friendship makes a lot more sense now. “I’m resilient like that.”

“Like a cockroach,” I agree. “We just can’t get rid of you.”

Before he can retort, little feet run down the hallway. Surprise flickers in his eyes as he stares at Scar, but where did he think the rest of the guys were? Roe runs into the room, a beaming smile on her face. “Uncle Charles! I heard you were not feeling good.” She reaches the side of his bed and lifts her arms up. Scar picks her up and gently places her next to Charles, on the opposite side of his wound.

“I’m just a little sick.” His smile is soft and adoring as he pushes her hair off her face. “Your daddy fixed me all up and now that I can see my favorite niece, I think I’m all cured.”

She sticks out her bottom lip and assesses him carefully. “I don’t know, Uncle Charles.” My heart melts at how damn cute my kid is. She looks to Declan and tilts her head. “Is he right? Is he all better?”

Charles answers before Declan can. “Of course I am, Roe baby. I bet I could even have a dance party with you right here and now.”

She turns wide blue eyes to him. “No way,” she says disbelievingly.

“No dance parties anytime soon,” Declan warns. “But he’s going to be okay, sweet girl. Your uncle will be ready to play with you and the boys before you know it.”

Roe’s little body sags with her sigh of relief. Our little drama queen.

“How about a movie for now?” Scar interjects, distracting Roe from whatever other questions she was going to ask. “We need to wait for the doctors to come by and clear your uncle to come home with us.”

Roe gasps a little sound of delight. “Uncle Charles is coming home with us?”

Scar nods. “He heard about all the bunnies coming to see the little butterfly that lives there.” Roe giggles as she cuddles into Charles’ side and Scar turns the television back on but is quick to switch it to Moana before Roe has a chance to see the news.

More people stop by to check in on Charles and make sure he’s on the mend. With each person his surprise grows even more and the space left in the room shrinks. It’s crazy to see us all together like this.

The war has finally come to an end, our mission for revenge over. We’ve gotten our answers, and found a new purpose and the accumulation of all we’ve gained is right here in the room with us. Understanding begins to dawn for Charles as he realizes what it means to be a Rose. To be family. To be one of us.

We’re the Bleeding Roses, we bloom in chaos, thrive in destruction, and we’re always stronger together.