Page 36 of Full Throttle

“I know,” he sighed. “We don’t need her staying alone if fucking Kavi’s guys are lurking. Not while she’s healing.”

“Which is why I’m staying here—with her,” I declared, looking back out the window, the city before me disappearing through the thick snowfall.

Immediately accepting it, he asked, “She can’t go to your place? Where you both would be better protected?”

I scratched my jaw. There was no way in fucking hell she’d come with me, and we would need to leave now to make it there. “I’d have to drag her kicking and screaming.”

He cursed under his breath. “Why are all the women in my life stubborn pains in my ass?”

“Shut up!” Casey yelled in the background. I listened with raised brows as her English morphed into Spanish.

“Alright, Cain. Stay with Dominique. We’ll update everyone in the morning. I have to call some Crew members. Gotta make sure the homeless have warmth.”

Jeremy Jones was a good man.

“Right,” I murmured.

“Later.”

The line went dead, and I turned back to the former Crew leader. “Your nephew is going to work on getting the homeless some place warm.”

Sullie smiled, mainly to himself. “Good boy, my nephew.”

I nodded once. “Yeah, he is.”

“Casey will get the info on those tags,” he said. “I wouldn’t worry too much about the car. The Crew has eyes everywhere—especially in this neighborhood.”

I knew this, and I didn’t have anything to say. The man studied me again, silence stretching between us. “I know you were Bratva.”

Once again, there was nothing to say. I knew that everyone aside from Dominique knew the truth by now, and I wanted to do everything in my power to keep it that way.

“From my understanding,” he began, walking away from the dimly light kitchen, putting his hands in his coat pockets, “is that you did it to save your brother.”

I looked away, jaw now aching from how tightly I’d been biting down. “Yeah, I did.”

“Cain,” Sullie called, his voice the softest I’d ever heard it.

When I looked back to him, pride shined in his eyes like the summer sun after a heavy rain. It gutted me. I’d never made anyone proud before.

“You did what you had to do. There’s nothing wrong with that,” he assured.

I swallowed the hundreds of knives in my throat. “I betrayed a true brother to save someone I share blood with, Mr. Jones,” I deadpanned. “I don’t deserve your approval or your pride.”

The bar owner nodded, looking solemn. “We all do what we have to do.”

“We all do what we have to do,” I repeated back to him.

What I had to do would haunt me for the rest of my life, and when I died, I’d be burning in hell with the bastards who put me on the path.

Chapter Eight

Nikki

Twenty-five years ago. Detroit, MI.

“Cain!” I whisper-shouted out my window in the middle of the night.

I bit my lip, keeping my eyes on the darkened window, hoping and praying I would see his pale head of hair emerge. Minutes passed, and my stomach filled with dread. Looking over my shoulder, my eyes landed on my bedroom door, making sure the hall light was still out.

---