Page 161 of Burning Ember
“Not what you’re thinkin’,” he replies in a hoarse whisper. He takes off his shirt next and we all get a good fuckin’ look at what the inside’s done to him. I caught a glimpse of it before but it didn’t register at the time. He’s rail thin. Thinner than he looked when he stepped out of the prison gates. But it’s his ribs poking out, mixed with his dead eyes and gaunt face that tell the whole picture. Fuck, he looks like he’s aged ten years, and is recovering from living in a concentration camp.
Edge raises his head and turns around. The entire table reacts. Curses fly, and gasps, and yeah . . . more what-the-fuck’s ring out.
Edge’s clubpiece, his five-year HOC tat that covers his back, like mine does, is in tatters. It’s been sliced, burned—chunks of it are completely gone.
Me and Griz and D are on our feet. To say my stomach’s rioting is an understatement. My fists are at my sides ready to fly, but I’m fucking speechless. I can’t even form words.
“You all need to know,” Edge’s voice no longer sounds like him. It comes out more as a growl, and half-demonic. “That I’m not in the right frame of mind nor can I physically do the shit I need to do to sit at the head of this table. So I don’t want any of you fuckers votin’ me in.”
Finally, shock subsides and fury pushes the words from my mouth. “Who the fuck? We paid for fuckin’ protection!”
He ignores my question and turns. Addressing each member at the table, excluding me, he says, “You vote, you vote for Griz or D.”
“You gonna tell us who?” Goose demands.
“Yeah, when I’m ready and stronger, and when we’re stronger. I’ll tell you and we’ll handle it together. We’ll spill so much blood that we’ll be drowning in it. But for now, I just need time. I got to deal with some of it on my own and get my head right.”
Every brother simply stares at him. Until Griz nods and says, “Okay, brotha. Anything you need.”
Edge meets each brother’s gaze and gets the same around the table. When his gaze lands on me, I stare back.
Revulsion and fury transform and burst into something I can’t handle and can’t control.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The emotion that hits me is like a tidal wave. A fucking Amtrak train and it’s barreling through me.
Edge sees it. Recognizes the breakdown that’s coming. “We’ll vote in two days. Now everyone out.” When no one moves and I’m a second from losing my shit, he yells, “I said OUT!”
I did this. Oh, fuck.Jesus H. Christ.My failures. My actions. My girl. Sent him to hell. As the brothers trickle out, I fight the ticking bomb in my chest. My gaze takes it all in again. His body, his eyes, his back, and a dam ruptures. I fall forward, head in hands on the table as I absolutely lose my shit. Great giant sobs rack my chest. We paid, but I don’t need Edge to tell me . . . he had no protection. He had no one at his back. No one making sure he came out alive. I can only imagine what he endured.
Oh fuck.
Moisture coats my hands. My body is racked with the shakes as the guilt tears through me. The more I try to tame it, the more it unleashes in torrents and escapes.
The chair squeaks to my right. A hand lands on my back. It moves up to my neck and squeezes. Edge’s voice is thick. “This isn’t on you. Stop that shit, right the fuck now. This isn’t on you.”
“The fuck it isn’t,” I growl.
“I made my bed. I did the deed that got me behind bars. And sooner or later, no matter where I was hiding, the cops were going to find me. Yeah, Davis said your girl gave me up, but we don’t know that’s fuckin’ true, and either way, the cops would’ve found me soon enough.”
“She was my fuckin’ responsibility.”
“You know as well as I do that we can’t fuckin control what the fuck our women do. We can’t watch them twenty-four-seven. And Davis is often full of shit, so you let this go. I don’t hold you responsible, and that’s all the fuck that matters. You hear?”
I get control of myself, and using my elbow and then my shirt, I wipe my face. But I can’t look at him.
“You hear?” he grates out and grips my neck harder. Turns me. “You’ve always had my back. I don’t doubt your loyalty for a second. I know if you could’ve, you would’ve gone in my stead. Even now, knowing what you know, you would still, am I right?”
“Yes.” No question.
“See? We’re solid. And I know that even though you didn’t live through what I did, you experienced shit that tore you up and changed you. Cap told me about Dana and the baby.”
I look up sharply.
“For the first two years, I was angry. With life. With everyone. And yeah, with you. I placed blame on everyone, but myself. Then Cap did what Cap does best and set my head right. Made me see that my own actions landed me in prison. Yeah, I saved a woman from being raped, but I used deadly force to beat that fucker up when I didn’t need to.”
“He told me Dana was no good, and I didn’t listen. He told me she didn’t want a future and yet I planned one for us anyway. I wanted her to get pregnant.” I rub my hand over my head, and let the confession spill from my lips. “I built a fuckin’ house for her. I read baby books. Bought a doll. And I never fuckin’ asked her if she wanted any of it. Who does that?”
“You and you paid for it.”
