Chapter 24

Chapter

Twenty-Four

BODHI

I 'd acquired three photos of Zhukovsky and Vedri? during their brief sojourn talking to the ladies. Freddie and I were blending into the background. Ideal for the moment, since neither man had paid any attention to us. No, they barely paid attention to Lainey B.

Except Vedri? had been laser-focused on her until Zhukovsky dragged him into the conversation. The theater owner, however, was all about PPG. What I couldn't tell was how much of that was genuine interest in her skill, pure lust for her beauty, or mercenary desire for acquisition.

"If he keeps looking at her like that, I'm gonna carve his eyes out," Freddie said, his light tone conversational and relaxed. "Take my time with it. Then chop off each finger."

I studied PPG again. She didn't seem upset. If anything, she was more focused on Lainey B at the moment. She'd barely glanced after the men when they left.

"PPG appears to be handling it."

"Because people have been looking at her like meat for most of her life." Freddie's tone didn't raise nor were there any stress markers present. Yet everything about him shifted. "She expects to be used. To be abused."

Head cocked, I narrowed my gaze toward the girls. Lainey B had folded her arms and her smile was genuine. Whatever she was saying to PPG made her laugh. It didn't take Lainey long to notice me staring.

Her eyebrows raised, a silent question. Was I alright? I nodded once. A stir went through me, a shiver that skated over my scalp and down my back to pulse around to my cock and then up again.

Everything about Lainey B was exquisite, from the sharpness of her mind to her unrelenting loyalty to the fierce determination she possessed to protect everyone around her.

Perfection.

"Maybe," I finally said, conceding the point to Freddie. "Maybe she used to expect it. She doesn't anymore. No one will allow any harm to come to her."

We were all on our guard, Lainey B as well and she was well-armed. I'd go over her weapons again later. Make sure she had everything she needed. If someone tried to make off with the women, they were going to be in for a world of pain.

If Lainey let any of them survive long enough for us to get there.

Amusement speared me at the thought.

"You look way too happy about something," Freddie observed. "Want to share with the class?"

"Not really." I cut him a look. "You need to talk though."

Instead of responding, Freddie frowned and looked back out at the stage. More crew had begun to arrive. O'Connell and his twin had arrived with Vaughn. My phone buzzed with a message from Adam. He and Ezra were almost ready for the meeting with the local Bratva.

The Dovzhenko family had provided introductions and arranged a meeting with potential allies. We'd take all we could get in the city. Adam and Ezra would have backup from a pair of Vandals.

I sent back an acknowledgement then checked the tracking app. Everyone was popping on the screen.

Adam.

Ezra.

Milo.

Me.

Lainey B.

Each one of us demarcated by a different color. If for any reason the apps lost connection with a tracker, a warning message would go out. We'd gone over the program a few times and tweaked the responsiveness.

It was solid.

Didn't mean I wouldn't check even with Lainey right there.

"I'll be fine," Freddie said after a marked, and a far too long hesitation. "I should probably?—"

"We're going for a walk," I told him. "Go tell PPG bye." Then, taking my own advice, I crossed to where Lainey was talking to PPG and the twins, who'd arrived with coffee in hand.

Sliding an arm around Lainey's middle, I pressed my lips to her ear. "Stepping out to talk to Freddie. Might be a bit. Stay with them until I come back?"

She relaxed into me and tilted her head back so she could meet my gaze. Fresh worry filled those eyes and I smiled.

"Nothing to worry about." The conversation was for Freddie. Something was up with him.

"Okay," Lainey murmured. "Don't disappear on me."

"I'll do my best," I promised.

"All I'm asking," she quipped easily, the callback made me grin.

I gave her a gentle squeeze then dropped a kiss on her lips before I swung my attention to O'Connell. "Keep one eye on her."

"Not a problem," Liam said with a salute. Freddie had already spoken to Emersyn and retreated. He flicked a look toward Freddie then to me. I met his gaze easily. They were Freddie's people, but this wasn't a conversation I would invite anyone else to unless Freddie wanted to ask them himself.

Leaving Lainey with them, I headed toward the wings where Freddie waited. We could have used the way Zhukovsky and Vedri? exited. Those doors were closer.

Close wasn't our destination. I followed him past the technicians and crew working to bring in equipment, costumes, and more. This wasn't a small setup and PPG wouldn't be using anything that hadn't come in with their people, been vetted, and double checked.

When we reached the back doors, they were all standing wide, letting in the cooler air. The sun shining down decried the chillier temps from before the sun was up. Spring was arriving in the Czech Republic, but it wasn't that warm yet.

I followed Freddie as he went around the clusters of crew. We were leaving the theater entirely and heading toward the river. I scanned the area as we walked. The last thing we needed to do was get sloppy and pick up a tail or borrow trouble.

We had enough issues.

The breeze shifted over the river. Fried meats, garlic, and onions joined the fresher air.

"Goddamn," Freddie said as he took a deep breath. "I wasn't hungry before."

"We'll find something." I nodded toward the shops a block away. "Probably cafes down there. We can scout lunch for the ladies."

"Boo-Boo shouldn't eat in public." The swiftness of the response betrayed another layer of Freddie's agitation.

"We can pick stuff up. You know what she likes, right?"

"Maybe." The non-committal, almost sullen, intonation was not Freddie. I slanted a look at him. His tone wasn't an invitation. So, I wouldn't push the issue.

I'd just have to let him talk to me.

The selection of meals varied. Bread dumplings. Ghoulash. Potato soup. Fried potato pancakes. Dishes I could identify. Some I couldn't. The combination of scents were enticing.

At the fourth restaurant, Freddie paused to read the outdoor menu. I tracked other movement on the street, but nothing stood out as problematic.

"I suppose being able to read Czech would be helpful," Freddie said with a long sigh.

"Or you can read the English translation on the other side of the door." There were two menus posted. He made a face and then crossed over to the second menu. The delaying tactic only worked for so long.

We headed for another shop. Three shops later, we paused for coffee. I paid for both of us while Freddie paced the space, studying what was on the shelves. The restlessness radiating off of him seemed to set off tremors in the air.

Ten more minutes.

I'd let him take ten more minutes.

He ended up cracking at the six minute mark while we stood outside of a bakery window where we had an excellent view of the bread being kneaded and other treats being prepared. There was something hypnotic about their work.

"Bodhi… How the hell do you fix something if it's broken beyond repair?"

"You don't," I told him. "If you think something or someone is that broken, you can't—restore it to a state where it has never been harmed. You have to incorporate the pieces you can and strengthen the bonds with new things."

"What if you don't have enough pieces?"

"Kintsugi," I said, then took a sip of the coffee. Clearly, he was talking about himself. But I also didn't think he was being kind about himself. Broken? Yes. We were all broken. Beyond repair? Compared to what? Still, those were arguments to be made after I identified the issues.

"Gesundheit?" Freddie gaped at me and I grinned.

"It's a traditional repair method in Japan. You take broken pottery, a bowl, a dish… some vessel that has been damaged. You glue the pieces back together with lacquer, while painting the seams with gold or silver powder. The dish is not restored to what it once was. But it becomes something new, something beautiful for its imperfections."

"Kintsugi." He repeated the word as though he needed to turn it over and test the syllables. "Think that works on people?"

"Yes."

"Okay, don't run me over with your explanations there." He downed more of his coffee and turned away from the bakery window. I fell into step with him before he'd made it three strides. "I don't think it will work for me."

"Why?"

"Because there are too many pieces. Too much is broken. I don't even know what I should look like, much less know how to put it back together."

"You should look like you."

"Helpful," he said in a tone that declared my comment was anything but. The belligerence in his voice was frustration and not targeted at me. "If I ask you a question, can you just give me a straight answer?"

He paused, pivoting to face me. His nostrils were flared, his pupils slightly dilated, and his breathing coming in swift pants. A sheen of sweat dotted his forehead.

"Yes."

The shortness of my answer seemed to stump him for a moment. He looked at me, then down, then at the surrounding shops, then back the way we'd come before he blew out another harsh breath.

"I hate this."

"Take your time," I told him. Something was tearing him up. I didn't know if it was the situation or having to discuss it.

"You know some of Boo-Boo's story." The words came out a hushed whisper, his voice dropping to something confidential. "What her uncle did. How her past dance partner treated her. The doctors at the facility. The abuse she took?"

"Yes." I was very clear on it though no one had given me specifics, it hadn't been that hard to put together. I'd rather enjoyed helping them get into Sharpe's little fortress.

"She should hate men," Freddie said. "Hate all of us and never let anyone touch her again. She would be within her rights."

Then as if he couldn't stomach standing still anymore, he set off walking. Agitation detailed in every single step.

"But she doesn't—and everything they took from her, she's fought to take back. She…" He downed the rest of his coffee, then tossed the cup into a trash can before he folded his arms. The need to self-soothe and protect was right there. "She's let the others push her, especially when she hits a roadblock and they—we do everything we can to make it easier for her."

"But she doesn't want easier." PPG didn't seem the type. She was more of a throw herself right into it and fight. It was something she and Lainey shared. Probably what drew them together in the first place.

"No, she wants to feel what she feels. To touch us when she wants and for us to be able to touch her without any of those memories coming back to her. She's winning… Fuck she's incredible."

He scrubbed a hand over his face. The distress rolling off of him made my teeth itch. I wanted to kill whatever was bothering him, eliminate the threat, so he didn't have to think about it anymore.

"I want to be able to let her touch me," Freddie admitted. "But I can't… Sometimes, if it's just my hand or she's just leaning against my shoulder. That's fine. But when the clothes come off…I can't stand the feeling of her hands on me, cause then I see them and I don't want that."

See them.

Information began to slot into place and I spared Freddie a long look. He stared at the ground, hands opening and closing. More than once he reached for his pocket. The knife he usually carried. A lot of weapons had to be stored before we came here or replaced by items found here.

"How long?" I wasn't going to ask for details. If he wanted to give me those and names. I'd take care of it, for now, I'd listen and see what I could do.

"It was how I grew up until I was seven. Kiddie porn. I was in a lot of them. All I ever knew about it was a lot of pain and strange people touching me. Eventually… I got away. But…"

He raised his hand and held it out in front of him. It trembled violently.

"Boo-Boo has let me do whatever I want to her. I can almost touch her and not hear those people or feel those memories… but if she puts her hands on me, it all crashes in and I can't figure out how to make it stop."

"You want it to stop." Not a question. "You want to put that part of your life back together without the cracks or the breaks."

"Yes." One ragged syllable.

"Does she know?"

Eyes closing, Freddie seemed to deflate. "Yes. When she told me her truth in Pinetree, I'd told her mine… I needed her to know she wasn't alone. Hardest thing I ever did, and I'd do it a thousand times over if it would help her."

"So, she isn't upset that she can't really touch you yet." Again, it wasn't a question. I'd seen PPG with Freddie. She adored him. She was also very protective. Of all the people in the world, she would understand.

"You'd think that would make it better," Freddie said. "But it doesn't. I feel like I'm letting her down. She's so damn brave and I can't?—"

"Don't count yourself out," I said, finishing my own coffee. Then pointing to a pub down the street. We needed a real drink. "I mean it, don't. Wanting something and having it—they aren't the same. You love her. You want to be everything for her."

"Yes." He spread his hands. "I'm not scared of her. I know she isn't those people."

"You know that, here," I told him, pausing to tap the side of my head. "Your cerebral cortex knows. It understands. It's got the reasoning and logic skills to know that she would never hurt you and that she is not those people."

"Then why?—"

"Because your amygdala is all about your survival. It has one goal, one primary driving force. Survive. Sometimes, survival means rejecting all touch, no matter what. Or rejecting all contact. Sometimes it can mean do nothing. Lay still and quiet, wait it out, and soon it will be over. If you don't fight, you'll survive."

Freddie paled. Yes, I understood the problem very well.

"Then I'm always going to be like this? Even if I really want to be like her? To push my boundaries?"

"No," I said. "Not at all. You just have to find a new way to fight that instinct. Your amygdala learned everything it knows from trauma. It's kept you alive. That's reinforced what it knows…"

"But?" The sharp demand accompanied his stopping on the sidewalk to face me again. "Bodhi, there has to be something. Don't say therapy. I tried… I really did. I hate talking to people I don't know and that crap we did at Pinetree was only fun when you were terrifying the group leader."

I grinned. "Fair. No, I think you and PPG need to make it a game. Find a contact that you can take from her. Reward yourself when you get to feel her. Train your amygdala that her touch is welcome."

"That sounds stupid easy."

"Unfortunately, it won't be," I admitted. "We are a product of our experiences. The darker, and more traumatic ones leave scars so deep down they become a part of us. Then when we look in the mirror, we want to see what was there before, but that person is gone. We can only ever be the product of our experiences."

"Kintsugi," Freddie said abruptly.

"Exactly."

He scowled and I rested a hand on his shoulder, a light touch. Though he stilled at the contact, his physical reactions did not betray new stress.

"Talk to PPG. Make it a game for the two of you. She'll want to help."

"She shouldn't…" He didn't finish the sentence, and I let him go before I pulled open the door to the pub. "She really shouldn't," he murmured. "Everyone else is so much better for her."

"Word to the wise, my friend," I told him as I waved him inside. "Don't argue with your lady. They have very creative ways to prove you wrong."

His soft bark of laughter was exactly what I wanted. "She is stubborn."

"This is a good thing. You both survived. Now you both need to thrive."

I ordered the beers and then moved with Freddie to the back of the pub. I checked my phone for tracking data after I took a seat. Lainey was still at the theater.

Across the table, Freddie studied the icy cold bottle the bartender had served. I'd watched him open both and declined the glasses.

"You think I can really do this?" Freddie asked and I met his gaze evenly.

"Do you love her more than yourself?"

"Yes." No hesitation. No reconsideration.

"Then you have your answer."

It wouldn't be easy. But then, nothing worth having ever really was.

"I really want to believe you," Freddie admitted. "I am so scared of fucking up. Sometimes, it gets so hard and then I think, I'll do a hit or two and that will make it okay. One or two can't hurt and then I remember that I'm an addict, and there is no such thing as just one or two."

Silence draped the table at the end of his statement and he tipped his bottle up and took a long drink.

"Thanks," he said eventually.

"Always," I told him before taking another drink of my own.

This wasn't an overnight problem nor was it an overnight fix. But I had faith in both of them.

"Would you like me to tell you a story and distract you?" It was the one thing I could do.

"Fuck yes," Freddie said, damn near sagging then he shot me an almost chagrinned look. "I mean… Please?"

"You asked me once why I kept going into the facilities and I told you I was looking for someone."

I leaned back in the seat, aware of where everyone in the room was and how close they might be. At the same time, my attention was on Freddie.

"The person I was looking for… my brother."

My. Brother.

I'd been looking for one and as it turned out, I'd found two. But I'd save the mushier part of that for later, when Freddie was feeling better.

"Holy shit. I didn't know you had a brother…"

"Not many do. You see, my mother…" This was how I could help Freddie. He opened a vein to talk to me. I would do the same. I'd meet trust with trust. Teach his amygdala to take that leap…

Eventually.