Cruz (Dark and Dirty Sinners' MC #5) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,107

here, wished I could sit on his goddamn knee, have him tell me the world would keep on spinning even though, for some people tonight, it wouldn't.

We'd just had word that Tatána was dead. She'd survived a fucking monster, had lived through abuse that no one even wanted to contemplate never mind outright think about, but she hadn't survived the blast.

I knew there were questions.

When she lived on the compound, in one of the bunkhouses, why had she been in the clubhouse? And so late? When the other women seemed to believe her and Amara had been in their beds because the parties were too much for them to handle?

I had a feeling I knew why.

David.

Even though he was dead, she wouldn’t know that, would she? No one knew. Not yet.

My throat felt thick as I thought about the next few days, and how, I'd have to sell a story to his people. I didn't think there'd be much issue though. His parents were dead, and as far as I knew, he had a cousin and an uncle left, but they weren't all that interested.

Come Thanksgiving and Christmas they might be... so I wondered if I should strike preemptively or was it wiser to wait? Wiser to let the trail grow cold?

I knew I'd have to consult Cruz, but my thoughts didn't make it any easier to stay.

I loved shows like Bones and The Blacklist, and whenever I watched them, whenever there was a regular murderer, I always wondered why they stayed around town. Why they didn't just run, leave the country, go and make a new life elsewhere.

But as I looked around the packed waiting room, where brothers stood with burnt hair and singed cuts, bandages patching them up here and there, sweat-streaked brows that were soiled with ash and grime from the fire as they hugged women and kids who were crying and shaking, this was my family.

Where else was I supposed to be?

The dichotomy of the violence of this world combined with the love and connection threw me, and it took me a few minutes to absorb that Storm had hugged Cruz, then he'd gotten to his feet and headed deeper down the corridor.

Unbidden, I followed him.

Storm was here for a reason. Not just because of Cyan and Keira, but because of Rex.

He hadn't said a word since I'd gotten here last night. Just sat there, beside Bear’s room after the surgery was over.

Rachel was the only one who seemed to be able to get through to him, making him eat, go and get cleaned up in the bathroom, but even then, she'd had to clean him up some herself with a wet wipe she'd used on his face.

It was weird, seeing Rex like that. Especially because everyone knew the last thing Rex wanted from Rachel was to be babied.

She was his woman. It was a fait accompli, even as it might never actually happen.

Watching them together though, watching her stick by his side as the doctors came in and out of Bear’s room in the ICU, was touching. So much so that I'd had to get out of there. I'd just needed a breather because there was more than just love between them, there was time.

It was a bit like looking at Stone and Steel, only without the animosity.

Steel had done everything in his power to hurt Stone along the way. His reasons must be big or I doubted she'd have forgiven him, but with Rachel and Rex it wasn't like that.

She was the law.

He wasn't.

I figured it boiled down to that.

But I moved with Storm, heading for the ICU Bear was in where, even though it was still early days and he was in an induced coma, the doctors had high hopes for him.

Of course, that could be bullshit. If I was a doctor dealing with Nyx, I'd tell him that too. But, then, Stone had confirmed it, and she wasn't scared of Nyx.

At least, I didn't think so.

She’d told me as well after we hugged when I got to the hospital last night, and I didn’t think she’d lie to me.

I hoped she wouldn’t, anyway.

As I pondered if the status reports we'd been given on Bear were BS or not, if Stone had become a better liar since we were kids, I made it to the waiting room where the council was gathered, and hovered outside the door.

Ever since Cruz had woken up, I'd left his cubicle, unable to deal with what he'd told