Not Gage.
He was the exception to the rule.
He was the exception to a lot of rules.
I took the smoke he offered me, even though I didn’t particularly want it.
I needed it.
Just like after getting laid, you needed a smoke after killing someone. A bowl of pasta wouldn’t go astray either. Neither would an orgasm. But I wasn’t looking to Gage for that. Even if he did brave the ‘no touch’ rule Cade had plastered all over me, I didn’t think even I had enough kink in me to handle all of that.
Murder, sex, and food. The basis of life. They all worked together in some kind of twisted threesome.
“You found me,” I observed, taking a long and unpleasant inhale.
He grunted in agreement.
If it was anyone else, I would’ve been surprised. In regular circumstances, I excelled at hiding my tracks. My most recent exit had been under more than regular circumstances; therefore, I more than excelled at hiding my tracks.
But like I said, Gage was an exception to a lot of rules.
“You going to tell my brother where I am?” I asked, blowing out another plume of smoke while wiping my knife on the thighs of my jeans.
Gage regarded me, and I squirmed under his gaze. He was one of the very few people who made me uncomfortable when he looked at me. His glassy stare always seemed to push right through whatever mask or costume I was wearing at the time and see the ugly truth. Gage lived the ugly truth, his past dark and twisted and full of things that would even give me nightmares. I didn’t even know the details—I could just tell. A piece inside that had fallen off, been ripped out. And they may operate the same by appearances, but there was something wrong in there.
The kind of wrong that Jeffery Dahmer and Charles Manson had. But Gage channeled his in different directions. Not the ‘right’ ones, by far, but what was right anyway?
“No,” he said in answer.
That time I was surprised. “No?” I repeated, dropping my smoke and crushing it amongst the blood and dirt at my feet. “You came all this way, to this shithole in the middle of the jungle, spent all this time on what I can only assume is my brother’s request, and now you say you’re not going to tell him? Bullshit.”
Gage didn’t move, didn’t blink. Like a shark. Except if sharks stopped moving, they died. I didn’t know of anything that could kill Gage.
“Your brother didn’t send me.”
“Yeah,” I spat sarcastically.
He shrugged. “Believe what you want.” His tone communicated the fact that he couldn’t care either way. “I was curious.”
I gaped at him. “You came to Venezuela, in the middle of rebel-owned territory, dirtied your boots, just because you were curious?”
The corner of Gage’s mouth turned up, the closest he’d come to a smile. “In case you hadn’t noticed, haven’t had much cause to get my boots or my hands dirty with all this straight-and-narrow stuff we’ve got going on.” He glanced down to where a trail of blood had pooled at the toe of his motorcycle boots. “I like getting dirty.”
It was comical how uncomical that statement was coming out of his mouth. It wasn’t sexual. Not by a long shot. It was cold and calculated.
I crossed my arms and his glance flickered for a second to my chest, where I’d unintentionally pushed up my boobs. It only stayed there for a moment, then moved up to my eyes, uninterested.
I wasn’t offended. I was used to it. Gage barely looked at any woman with any real interest. Sure, he’d fuck a club girl if the occasion arose, but he wasn’t really interested. Like the way a man might regard a freeze-dried meal when he had nothing else to eat—yeah he’d have it, but only out of need, not out of actual want.
“You were curious,” I probed.
“Yep,” he agreed. “’Course, I knew you’re prone to goin’ walkabout, but this time felt different. Had some time on my hands, checked out your place.” He gave me a look. “You did a good job of cleanin’ up, babe. Almost perfect. Most likely anyone else, save a cop with a black light, wouldn’t have noticed anything. I’m not anyone else.”
No, you’re not. A bitter taste of dread climbed up my throat. Not for me, of course. Gage would never say a word to a soul to rat me out. Definitely not to the cops, and it seemed not even to my brother. He was loyal. To family. To me. But not the cop who had spent the last decade trying to bring down the club.
I’d unwittingly handed him the evidence that would do what Cade had been wanting to do for the last decade.
Bring Luke down.
I struggled to keep my composure, watch Gage for any signs that he knew. But that asshole had the poker face to end all poker faces. We could’ve been talking about motorcycle parts for all he gave away.
“And you didn’t run to Cade,” I said, a statement, not a question.
He shook his head. “Not exactly my style. Would’ve, if I had any inkling you were in trouble. Well, a different kind than usual,” he added. “But had a pretty good idea you were alive.” He gave me a pointed look. “You are. Will say I’m impressed.”
I raised my brow. “Impressed?”
“Your current line of work.” He nodded to the bodies at my feet.
Of course he would be impressed with anything that had to do with blood and murder.
“Curiosity satisfied, and you’re not telling Cade?”
“You left for a reason. I’m guessing a good one?”
I nodded.
“Then no. I understand what you’re doin’. Maybe not the specifics, but enough to know that it was the only choice you had. Runnin’ away from demons is a hard job. I’m not the one who’s gonna make you face them. Doesn’t work that way. You gotta face ’em yourself.”
I tilted my head. “And you’ve faced yours?”
He laughed. A throw back your head, hold your belly kind of laugh. “Why do you think I chased you? Chase the blood? I’m the best runner there is, darlin’.”
I gaped. The small glimpse I had into Gage’s past, not exactly with the words but the way he said them, the way they sat heavy in the air. His thousand-yard stare. It was like staring directly into a black hole. My demons were infants compared to his, and I shivered at the thought of just what was chasing him. Despite the bitterness of the air, I wanted to know more, but the gun raised to Gage’s temple kind of stopped our heart-to-heart.
Gage didn’t move, didn’t flinch. He continued smoking his cigarette, slowly, casually, as if he didn’t have a worry in the world. “You may want to lower that, friend, in case you’re attached to your head.”
I glanced at the four men training semiautomatic weapons on Gage. They’d obviously noted that I’d neutralized any and all other threats.
“It’s okay, guys, he’s… a friend,” I said calmly. A woman always had to stay calm when in a room full of men with guns. They were children who just needed their mom to firmly tell them what to do. “Guns down.”
It took a second for the words to puncture, but they did. Three of them lowered their guns.
The handgun at Gage’s temple remained. Lucian eyed him with a thick and distrusting glare. He wasn’t an idiot, knew a threat when he saw one. Though he was stupid to think that he was going to come out on top, or even that his connection to me might stop Gage from killing him. Gage was loyal to an extremely small group of people. Everyone else was disposable.