Page 88 of Echoes of War

I thought about her words, realizing the reason she’d wanted to put her name there outside of the obvious. My chest and back were speckled with the scars my father had given me over countless beatings I’d taken. Some on behalf of my mother or my brother, others from what I probably deserved for mouthing off. A few were given as punishment for fucking up some of his business deals, ones that I just couldn’t let happen.

No one should be sold to another person, especially not women and children. There were some things in this world that I refused to turn a blind eye to, and that was one of them. I had no regrets. I would gladly take every lashing all over again. Some lines were thicker than others.

The thinner ones were from the wire hangers he’d straightened out from dry cleaning, others were from whatever stick he’d forced me to find in the yard. The thickest ones, the ones that hurt surprisingly the least, had come from his favorite leather belt. Henever wore that belt. It was just his favorite because it had been the first thing he’d ever struck me with.

My father used it when he wanted to drive one point home; I would always be a lost little boy that he held an immense amount of power over. There was no escaping that, even when I’d tried as an adult and he’d sent his men out to hunt me down and drag me back to him.

The only escape had been during his death, and then I’d fallen pawn to another master. The scars she’d left were mostly hidden, with the exception of the few moments she’d turned her cruelty toward me full blast. The moments when her anger had sunken so deep that she’d lashed out at whoever was around her, who, more times than not, happened to be me.

Tattoos only covered so much. Being in the public eye had caused a lot of questions as the scars continued to appear, which served as a disservice, only angering my father more. I’d covered them the best I could. Only when you got close enough could you see the raised skin underneath. The kind that didn’t come from a needle. No one noticed, because there was no one who I let get that close.

Amaia guided my face to her, resting her forehead against mine, trying to ground me back into this moment with her.

“One I’m proud to have,” I whispered, pushing a curl back behind her ear.

“Those words,” she stammered, “those words mean death.”

I knew what she meant. She was speaking of the words I’d confessed to being on the verge of. I kissed the top of her head in acceptance. My confession had come with the knowledge of knowing she wouldn’t say them back, but that didn’t matter to me. I knew where she stood on the matter long before I’d grown the nerve to speak them. She’d confided as much to me long ago.

“I … I understand how you feel, Alexiares, but you deserve the world. Happiness,” she said, and my heart skipped a beat. “You deserve a love that I don’t think I can give you.”

“Be quiet, princess. I know that I may never hear those words leave your beautiful, perfect, fucking lips. But I want you to know that I knowexactlywhat I mean to you. It’s in everything you do.”

She nestled in close to me, placing a hand over my heart. “My heart beats for you and only you. That is all I can offer you. Take it or leave it.”

I said nothing, just placed my chin atop her head, pulling her as close as possible, a fat grin all over my stupid fucking face.

Reina

We pushed the heck out of those horses until they couldn’t go anymore. I knew my way around a horse and over the last month, I’d gotten to know Bimbo pretty darn well. The others were forced to keep up, not that Moe needed much assistance in the matter. Seth had taught her enough whether he had realized it or not. Their time together had obviously rubbed off on an already quick learner.

Abel wasn’t fooling anybody either. He may not have been as experienced as we were, but he made up for his shortcomings quickly. Pushing these babies from Cheyenne to Monterey should’ve taken less than a week. I couldn’t blame Abel for the delay, or even Moe. We were simply just too dang late.

War had broken out aroundus.

My heart ached thinking there was a chance it had already reached the gates of our home. Salt Lake City was in absolute chaos. Alexi had been right, they would have our back in this war. That didn’t mean much of nothing, though—not when the surrounding settlements caused mayhem with their fighting.

I mean seriously, I understood having traditional values and all that. There was a nice ring to it for some, I guess. To be honest, it just fed into my question on how stupid could they be to side with the people who wanted to strip them of their freedom? The math wasn’t adding up on that one.

Provo and Ogden were fine. They’d have to have a death wish to ignore the demands of Salt Lake while in such proximity, but Moab had grown some balls. Trying to squeeze through their fighting unnoticed was as possible as a pig flying. Doing so atop a horse had essentially been riding with a literal target on our backs.

Saying bye to Bimbo was harder than I thought. We’d only spent a few weeks together, but she gave the comfort of a home I’d known long before my life had fallen apart. I patted her hide, saying my farewell before sending her on her way, in the opposite direction of all the riff raff.

“Come on,” I said, pulling my hat down on my head.

I’d ditched the blood splattered fur and warm clothing outside of Cheyenne. We wouldn’t need it anymore once we cleared Utah. Which was a feat I had wrongly assumed would take a day.

It wasn’t like I was freezing my tail off. My black leather riding pants and hide-colored fringe jacket were enough for a girl used to the cold. I slid my black cowgirl hat over my hair; it did the job maintaining the warmth inside my body. After all, heat exited the body from two places—your noggin and your feet. Both of mine were solidly covered, in a cute way too, so I was good.

Abel was fine and dandy. He’d spent years up north. The brisk air down here was nothing on him. I offered him a warm smile, handing over the extra pack to toss over his newly acquired hoodie.A lady should never have to carry more than her weight when a man is around. I was fully capable, but I preferred my hands to be free for other things, like my new toys.

My sister, on the other hand, appeared to be moments away from becoming a frozen human statue. Her teeth chattered, hands rubbing against her arms to give herself some extra warmth.

“You know,” she stammered, “I’m getting real fucking sick of these visions leaving out the important details.”

Abel chuckled, dropping everything to remove his hoodie and toss it to her. She pulled it over the two layered, black turtlenecks, sliding her leather jacket on top. I tsked, all her layers in these conditions would slow her down in a fight.

More fight for me.

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