Twenty-Three

Malice

I had just stepped into the clubhouse when I heard a woman scream bloody murder. Montana and the other brothers ran from their offices.

"What the fuck?!" Montana shouted as the screams got louder.

"The mailroom," Payne whispered as we all ran down the stairs to find Sinclair leaning against the wall, watching intently at what was going on in the mailroom.

Walking over to him, he said nothing, just pointed into the room.

Turning slowly, I saw Torment sitting in a chair, watching as Silver beat a woman attached to my Saint Andrew's cross.

"Who the fuck is that?" I barely heard Montana ask.

"Lucy McLaren." Sinclair smirked as Silver swung the bat at the woman's hip and she cried out.

"Who?"

Staring in disbelief, I muttered, "The cunt who raped and tormented me as a child."

From the moment I escaped the Trick Pony, I vowed someday, somehow, I would find that bitch and make her pay for what she put me through. The nightmares I'd endured because of that bitch still plagued me to this day.

I couldn't believe she was here.

In my mailroom.

Turning to Sin, I asked, "How?"

Adjusting his suit jacket, Sinclair looked at me and said, "Arianwen called and asked for a favor. I honored her request."

"How did you find her?"

"You, of all people, know I can find anyone."

The sound of metal whooshing in the air, quickly followed by the woman's screams of anguish, had me turning to find Silver with a crowbar in her arms. Apparently, my woman decided to forgo the bat and move onto something with a bit more oomph.

My woman was relentless in her endeavors. Determined to extract the maximum amount of pain. I had to admit, Arianwen's efforts impressed me. But when the cunt laughed, Arianwen growled, dropping the crowbar, reaching for a knife before she shoved it into the woman's cunt, slicing upward and splitting her open. The bitch didn't even flinch. The shock of her body being sliced apart was too much for her brain to register, the pain she experienced overriding everything being done to her.

"Fucking laugh now, bitch."

Before any of us could stop her, Silver raised the knife in her hand and stabbed it right through the bitch's eye, killing her.

Covered in blood, she took a step back, her body swaying with exhaustion as she slowly turned around. Her eyes found mine. She looked me dead in the eyes and said for all to hear, "They will never hurt us again."

Before I could get to her, she collapsed on the floor.

Rushing to her, I picked her up, her tired and worn-out body a dead weight in my arms as I watched Torment stand.

"Don't be angry with her. What she did, she did for you, Malice. Though, I think a part of her also did it for herself. I know you don't think you need therapy, and I will not force you, but if Arianwen is any indication, you need to take the offered hand of help."

Walking away, Torment said nothing else, leaving me there, standing in the middle of the mailroom with Arianwen in my arms.

"I don't know what the fuck just happened, but Torment's right. You both need help. The board voted to give you time. Well, after this shit, I can't. I'm ordering you into therapy, Malice. The both of you. Understood?" Montana sneered, glaring directly at me.

I nodded.

"Well, gentlemen. My job here is done. Until next time."

"There won't be a fucking next time, asshole," Montana clipped as Sin laughed, walking away.

"There will always be a next time with you Soulless Sinners."

As I carried her through the clubhouse, I felt a sense of déjà vu as everyone around me gaped in shock at the state of her.

Not that I gave a fuck.

None of them would ever understand the torrent of pain the both of us had experienced. What we'd suffered, endured, and survived.

We owed no one nothing.

We didn't need to explain ourselves.

We were survivors, and nothing or no one could take that away from us. Our pasts molded us into the people we were today. The club could either accept us as is or fuck off.

I was done pretending to be something I wasn't.

I was a killer. A brutally scarred man with a sensational appetite to eradicate those who tormented and abused others. If that meant I wasn't fit for normal society, then so be it. I was good with that.

Kicking my bedroom door shut behind me, I walked her into the bathroom, carefully placing her in the bathtub, and that's when it hit me.

This wasn't the first time we'd been in this situation.

Sighing, I shook my head and, like before, I gathered everything I needed. Kneeling before her, I brushed her blood-coated hair away from her face, as she softly moaned, turning into my touch.

Opening her eyes, she looked at me.

"Malice."

"It's alright, baby. I've got you."

After helping her remove her bloody clothes, I turned on the faucet and silently sat next to her as the tub filled with warm water. Like before, she didn't stop me as I washed and rinsed her hair. When she was clean, I emptied the tub, wrapped a clean towel around her and dried her off. Sitting her on my bed, I took care with her hair, knowing she had a sensitive head, and when her hair was tangle free, I pulled back the covers and helped her into the bed.

Through it all, neither of us talked.

What was there to say? She did exactly what I'd wanted to do for years. I thought it was fitting in a way. Last year, I had helped kill her tormentor. It was only fitting that she killed mine.

Watching her sleep, I wondered what I'd done to have her in my life.

By my own accounts, I should be dead. Like her, I had tried on more than one occasion to end my life, though I would never tell her that. I got it. I really did. Life was hard enough without the horrors that loomed in the shadows. I had stopped her, and Sin had stopped me.

Maybe that was why I was drawn to her, because of our shared pasts. She was the only person in this club that got me. Understood my moods, my anger, my desire to kill. She never complained. She accepted me for who I was, no questions asked. She trusted me when others didn't.

A soft knock at the door had me turning to see Torment peeking his head inside.

"How is she?"

"Sleeping," I muttered, turning back to her. "I didn't want this life for her, Torment. I never did. That's why I left her in Vegas, gave her money, and paid for the room, so she could have a safe place to heal. I knew if I stayed, I wouldn't be able to leave her. I tried to keep her away from it all and failed."

"No, you didn't," he said, stepping into my room. "You and Arianwen are so much alike, Malice. You both share a horrible past. You can't protect her from that. Like she can't protect you from yours. But what you both can do, is to be there for each other. Like you are now."

"I don't know how to be what she needs."

"Yes, you do. You keep trying. That's all she wants. There is no right or wrong when it comes to you two. Rules don't apply. So you both are going to have to make them up as you go."

"Like my curt replies. She hates that."

Torment chuckled. "Gotta admit, brother, when I saw her lay into you the other day at the penthouse, I thought for sure I was going to have to step in and protect her. But I didn't need to. You knew she was frustrated with you, and you let her say and do what she needed. You didn't like it, but you did it all the same. I also saw the way she was with you. She didn't belittle you, force you to do anything that you yourself weren't comfortable with. Relationships are give and take, Malice. You get back what you put into it."

"I don't think I could have done it."

"Done what?"

"Kill that bitch." I whispered. "Other than my genetic material, she was the biggest nightmare I had. Almost every night, she would be there, laughing, as she forced me to do what she wanted. She was relentless, and I hate to admit this, but she scared me more than him."

"Why?"

Turning to face my brother, I admitted, "Because she treated me as if I were her son, then beat me for it."

"That's why you don't let anyone touch you. You correlate touch with pain."

I nodded. "With my genetic material, I knew what to expect. He never deviated, but with her it was never the same. Sometimes she would take me out of the club, and we'd go to the movies, to dinner, or shopping. She would buy me things she thought I liked or needed. One time, she took me out of state. I stupidly thought she was taking me away from that awful place. She took me to some fancy concert in Atlanta. I had never seen anything so big before in my life. Everyone looked like fancy dolls, all glittery and shiny. Even me. She made sure I even looked the part. Everyone was so impressed with her. They lavished her with so much attention. They all thought it wonderful that she had brought her son to the premiere opening. I said nothing, of course. I was to be seen and not heard. I didn't understand what was going on, and when the show started, I really didn't understand. She took me to La Bohème. It was in French. I didn't understand what they were saying, let alone singing. I knew I messed up, because when we returned to the hotel, she backhanded me hard. I fell and hit my head. That night, she almost killed me. She had to call Devlin to come get me."

"How old were you?"

"I'd just turned seven."

"Jesus Christ," Torment muttered, shaking his head.

I got it. My past was a lot to take in. I could only imagine what he thought, listening to Arianwen. That was one of the reasons I didn't want to speak to anyone. I didn't want to burden my brothers with my problems.