19. Maddox

NINETEEN

MADDOX

"You don't have to go yet," Rebecca says, and I can practically hear the tears in her voice. "It's no trouble having you here."

Knives shuffles awkwardly and places the room key on the front desk counter. "We appreciate it, Rebecca, we really do, but we've got to take care of…"

He flounders, and I quickly finish, "...Work. There's a lot of paperwork for us to catch up on."

Knives nods. "Exactly. But you've got our contact info, and if anybody gives you trouble, just let us know. We'll fly down here and take care of things."

Rebecca still looks sad as she goes through the checkout procedure, but she nods. "I don't know that I'd feel right asking some FBI agents to swoop in to save us."

"We're not FBI," Knives quickly corrects.

This time, Rebecca gives us a knowing look. "Of course not. I swear, nobody will ever find out. Me and Hank will keep it a secret. I won't even reveal it on my deathbed."

I have to fight not to smirk at that. They're so fucking wholesome. They'd probably feel terrible knowing that it wasn't a government-sanctioned operation. If they knew exactly how we "drove out" Boar's gang, they'd be horrified.

But they don't need to know that. The fact is, they've helped us as much as we've helped them.

"There's nothing to reveal," I say, following Knives's lead. "But yeah, we should head out. We have a long drive back home."

Then we'll get to confront Silvano, which is not something I'm looking forward to.The urge to smirk is quick to fade.

I'm just glad we were able to loot the dead men for their cash and credit cards so we had something on hand, though we'll get rid of those soon enough.

We head out to the SUV we'd brought back from Boar's hideout. It's got the crates of weapons in the back, and I am very uncomfortable driving with this many guns, but there's nothing else for us to do. We'll switch vehicles when we get to New Valence.

Hank, Jim, and Pyre are waiting for us outside. I mentally wince when I see Jim. He's still banged up, one arm in a sling, and he should probably be in bed—not to mention the teary quality to his eyes.

"We didn't need a whole farewell party," Knives protests.

Hank shakes his head. "You do! You basically saved the town."

"We didn't save anything," I say, shaking my head, but I can see they're not going to listen. "But if we helped, we're glad."

It wasn't our goal at all, but sure.

Maybe it does have a little bit of a "feel good" quality to it, but it's been overbearing enough to where I almost can't wait to get back to New Bristol. My fuzzy feelings about staying here or bailing altogether have faded, and I'm ready to get back into the regular grind of things.

Assuming we get home without being pulled over and being caught with this many guns, of course.

Jim comes up to us, wobbling a bit. "I just wanted to say, I'm so glad I went fishing that day. You boys are…" He blinks quickly and swallows hard. "I know it isn't my place to say, but you opened some eyes. My brother didn't believe a… a… um, men like you two could be manly. But you showed him."

Men like us?

Knives and I share a look. I don't have to wonder too hard about what he actually wanted to say.

"Anyway," Jim continues. "You made me reconsider. I can stay here moping, or I could just go visit my son. It's okay for things to change."

I'm starting to look forward to the talk with Silvano, because at least that means I won't be trapped in all these awkward conversations. I don't want to change people's minds, and I don't want to help them through their personal issues.

"Well, good luck with that," Knives says. "I'm sure your son will… uh, I hope he meets you halfway."

Considering how neither of us still talk to our parents, we really aren't the ones to be giving advice here.

Pyre goes to the SUV and opens the back door. "I guess that's it? Um, sorry about… all the shit. I'm going to help these guys, um, testify." He looks at us like he wants us to confirm his story.

I can see why Nevaeh called him an idiot. At least Hank and Jim don't call him out on the obvious lie.

"Yeah, we have to go. But if we're ever in the NewVa area again, we'll be sure to stop by," I say.

Knives grunts. We'd agreed that we aren't willingly coming back here ever again.

I hold out my hand for the keys, looking expectantly at Knives.

He grumbles but hands me the keys, and I take them.

"Drive safe," Jim calls out after us as we head to the SUV.

If only he knew how safely I plan to drive.

It's going to drive Knives nuts.

I get into the SUV and start it up, enjoying the bliss of the air conditioner. "I thought they'd never let us leave," I remark as I back out of the B&B's small parking lot.

"They were way nicer to you than they were to me," Pyre complains in the back seat.

Knives rolls his eyes. "Your gang flooded their small town with drugs and weapons. Did you think that would make them love you?"

I glance into the rearview mirror to see Pyre duck his head.

"Yeah, well. Like you guys are any better. You murdered everybody!" He leans against the car door and sighs. "Don't tell Nevaeh I was a fucking coward, yeah?"

"I won't tell Nevaeh anything," I say. "That's all on you."

Which is probably worse for him than if I did explain anything to her, really, but I'll let him think this is better.

It's a two hour drive to NewVa, and we mostly keep to ourselves. Pyre is grateful to get dropped off at his dingy apartment. Our car is miraculously still in the same place we left it, and we carefully transfer the guns to all the hidden compartments.

Now the only thing left is to actually get back to New Bristol.

"I'm going to be fucking glad to be out of this miserable state," Knives says as we start driving. "Who thinks swamps are a good idea, anyway?"

"The universe," I say, deadpan. "But the bigger question is why people choose to live there." I shudder. "Never again."

The GPS interrupts us, giving the directions to the interstate. I've never been happier to be on the road than I am now.

I just wish we could have flown instead.

The Cresci mansion looms in front of us. Knives and I had stopped overnight, and we'd considered taking another day before we confronted Silvano, but in the end, we agreed that it would just prolong the inevitable.

Knives leans out of the driver side window to hit the intercom on the front gate. "Hey, Trevor, or Rebel, or whoever's on gate duty. It's Knives. Let us in. And tell Silvano me and Maddox are back."

There's a pause before somebody says, "Knives? Holy shit." The familiar buzzing follows, and the gate slowly opens.

We drive in. Knives pulls up to the front door rather than the garage or back entrance.

Evan is already waiting for us at the top of the steps. "Well, look what the cat dragged in," he drawls.

"Nah," I say as I get out of the car, trying for deadpan despite the way my heart is racing. "It would take several cats to drag Knives in."

Knives gets out of the car and half slams the door shut. "Hey, Evan. Be honest—is there a point to us going inside, or should we try to get a head start so we aren't shot immediately?"

"Did you bring the stuff back?" he asks pointedly.

"Yeah," I say cautiously.

"Then congratulations, welcome back, etc." He beckons to us. "Come on. S is waiting for you."

I exchange a look with Knives. I wish I could link arms with him, show some sort of solidarity, but that would be ridiculous—and sappy. That doesn't have a place here in the Cresci mansion.

It's ironic that I let myself be fucked so many times here but draw the line at a public display of affection.

We follow Evan inside, my hackles up. I can't help but feel that we're being led to a slaughter. I don't want to believe that Silvano would betray us like that, but I'm still bitter about the entirety of the past two weeks.

Jesus, had it been just two weeks?

Evan knocks on the door to the lounge and opens it only after Silvano says, "Enter."

Knives and I shuffle in. He's just as tense as I am, and I see his hand on his hip, itching to withdraw the knife he's got in his pocket.

Silvano is sitting in the armchair, a glass of liquor in one hand. Kyran is on the leather sofa. They're both looking at us very intently.

"You need anything else, S?" Evan asks. "I don't mind sticking around to protect you from these two."

Kyran scowls, casting a dark look at him.

Silvano smiles in Evan's direction, answering before Kyran can snap at him, "I think we can handle it. Unless you think I need more protection from them?"

"You don't need protection from us," I say.

Maybe Hawaii would've been better than coming back to New Bristol.

Knives crosses his arms. "I'm not making promises. If there's going to be more backstabbing involved, I'm not baring my back for the knife."

Silvano looks at him, then bursts out laughing. "I can't believe it. My entire organization consists of comedians."

Kyran's expression stays dark despite Silvano's amusement. "You can go, Evan," he says. "In fact, please fucking go."

Evan cracks up laughing, but a nod from Silvano has him heading for the door. He closes the door behind him, cutting off the sound of his laughter.

Silvano is still chuckling, though, and I stare at him like he's the one who's gone insane. "What's so funny?"

"You two," Silvano answers. He nods thoughtfully at us. "I did wonder if I needed to mount a rescue operation. Fox was not pleased by the suggestion. I think his exact quote was ‘if they got themselves captured or killed, who fucking cares?'"

I glare at Silvano, which feels awkward because I'm usually too overwhelmed by his charisma to even give him a negative thought. "Not you, obviously," I bite out.

Kyran tenses, sitting up straighter. "Watch your tone, Gray," he warns.

"What? No. You watch your tone. I—" I begin, but since I don't particularly want Kyran's fist in my face, I cut myself off like the coward I apparently am around Silvano.

Knives steps forward and subtly puts himself between me and Kyran. "Just cut the crap, both of you. We got your fucking weapons for you. Now I just want to know if you set us up for failure. Was this one of your little games, Silvano, where you manipulate a bunch of people to take each other out?"

There's a split second where Silvano appears shocked, but he recovers quickly. "It hadn't been my intention, no. But I'm still fuzzy on the details. What did happen? You found the weapons, and had to lay low for two weeks?"

I laugh, but I'm not amused. "Yeah. That's exactly what happened."

Silvano meets my gaze, and I'm suddenly hyper aware of myself. He's seeing right through me, reading my weaknesses and finding what buttons to push and how to take me and Knives apart with just a few words.

"If you expect me to intuit what happened, I'm afraid you'll be waiting a long time. I trusted both of you to be competent in the task I assigned to you—and apparently I was right." Silvano sounds much less amused now. "A little worse for wear, but excuse me if I don't have the time to worry about every single wound one of the valued members of my family suffers."

"Valued members of your family," I repeat. I could snap at him that I was shot, but really, is there any point in just being a little bitch about the situation? Acting like that has been my downfall more than once, and it just seems tired and old now. I sigh, my shoulders slumping. "There were more of the motorcycle gang than there were of us. They tried to string us up and leave us for dead. We got lost in the swamp. We got free. We took the gang out. We recovered the weapons," I list off flatly, giving a very inadequate assessment of what had happened.

"We had to kill something like ten bikers on our own, guerilla style," Knives amends. "Did clean up on our own too."

Silvano frowns. "On your own? A swamp? Weren't the goods just in a warehouse in New Valence?"

His confusion doesn't feel feigned, and I start to feel sick. "No," I say slowly. "They were in some middle-of-nowhere shack, guarded by bikers."

"A shack in the fucking swamp ," Knives adds, his fists clenched. "Have you ever been in a swamp, Silvano?"

"Absolutely not," Silvano answers immediately. "My leather loafers are not going near anything even adjacent to mud." Then he shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I'm still confused here. You discovered the goods were in a swamp, guarded by this motorcycle gang, and you decided to retrieve it on your own? Didn't you have contacts in NewVa?"

My cheeks flush, and I glance helplessly at Knives. "Those contacts only gave us GPS coordinates. We went to check it out."

Before we'd learned to work together. Before we'd trusted each other.

Silvano looks over to Kyran. "All right, I'm sorry. You were right. I did overestimate them."

I glare fiercely at Kyran. "Obviously fucking not," I snap. "Seeing as how we got the goods and got here in one piece."

Well. Mostly one piece.

Kyran snorts. "Yeah. Which is why you're so fucking upset that you think Silvano set you up."

"And during all of this, you didn't contact anyone here because…?" Silvano prompts.

"You fucking told us you didn't want to hear from us!" Knives growls. "You said you didn't give a fuck what happened to us, so we'd better figure it out on our own!"

Silvano glances to Kyran again. "Did I say that? I don't remember saying that."

"I think you might have said that. It was, um… that day. With the…" Kyran trails off, and if I didn't know better, I'd say he was blushing.

"Ohhh, right." Silvano grins again. "That makes more sense." He turns his attention back to us, still smiling. "You caught me in a bad mood. But really, running into a swamp unprepared… I suppose we're all lucky you were resourceful enough to come out of this in one piece."

"A bad mood?" I demand. "You made it pretty fucking clear that you weren't going to give us any resources."

"You obviously didn't need them," Kyran says snidely. "Since you managed to take on a whole biker gang by yourselves without getting a scratch on you."

"We had scratches!" Knives shouts. "Maddox got shot! We were beaten! Devoured by mosquitos! There was mud and ash in every single crevice on our bodies!"

Silvano starts smiling harder. "That's cute. Honestly, it appears like you should be thanking me, instead."

"Thanking you?" I ask, baffled. "The fuck should we be thanking you for?"

"Hey," Kyran barks, not sharing Silvano's amusement. "Watch it, Gray."

Silvano points between the two of us. "It looks like whatever the issue was between you two, you've resolved it. And, perhaps I'm reading into things, but those bruises on your arms look very hand-shaped, Maddox. Large, hairy hands, perhaps, that roughed you up and held you down?" He raises his eyebrows. "For once, not in one of my supply closets."

I don't think my cheeks have ever been redder, and I'm at a complete loss. I try to stammer something out, but words just won't form. I look at Knives instead, silently imploring him to say something to get us out of this mess.

His cheeks are just as red, though, and he's clenching his jaw. "What?"

Silvano's smirk widens. "Was I wrong? Or did some other man restrain Maddox? In which case, my condolences, Knives. There are other fish in the sea."

"It wasn't somebody else!" Knives snaps. "But it could have been one of the bikers! We're both bruised all over!"

"But you just said it wasn't somebody else." Silvano gets up and walks over to the small dry bar by the wall. He fills his glass up again and takes a sip, watching us the entire time.

I can't believe it. All my anger has melted away into mortification.

"Boss," I groan. "Okay. You can stop. Point made, point taken. But—" There's something I want to say, I'm sure of it, but I don't know how to put the words together. "Did you do this on purpose?" I finally manage to ask.

"Did I send the two men who were acting like fucking teenagers, who constantly fucked in my mansion, who couldn't be civil to each other in front of their fucking boss's face, on a close proximity mission so they would finally be forced to either hash things out or kill each other?" Silvano glances at Kyran. "Does that sound like something I'd do?"

"Nope. Never," Kyran says, deadpan. "You'd be too worried about getting your precious product back to risk it."

Knives groans loudly. "I was right. This whole mission was a punishment."

"Absolutely," Silvano agrees cheerfully. "Now, if you're done worrying that I might have it out for you, can you get out so I can enjoy my afternoon in peace?"

"Yes, Boss," I say sullenly. I cast an irritated look at Kyran, who only smirks at me, then grab Knives by the arm.

Knives glares at Silvano before grabbing my chin and kissing me. I gasp, my face heating up again, but I don't pull away.

When Knives breaks the kiss, he turns to Silvano. "Happy?"

"I'm certain the two of you are happier. Now, please, just go to your own homes and fuck in your own beds like normal people." Silvano makes a shooing motion.

Knives scowls, but he grips my hand and pulls me out of the room with him.

Evan is standing just outside, grinning. "Got things sorted, then?"

"You can fuck off, too," Knives mutters, running a hand through his beard. Then his expression softens and he looks at me. "But I guess so."

I smile back. "Yeah. Things are sorted."

Knives lets go of my hand to sling his arm around my shoulders. "All right. Let's get out of here. Might as well keep following Silvano's orders."

I snort in amusement. "It's not an order if we were going to do it anyway."

Hopefully, this is the last time Silvano will bring it up ever again. I can handle him knowing about me and Knives, but I don't need him commenting on our sex life ever again.

And I do intend to have a very, very active sex life with Knives from now on.