Page 16 of Pike’s Redemption

“Love you too, Ronnie. Go ahead and call him,” I hung up and then paused. Fuck and damn. I bounced the back of my head a few times on the back of the seat, then gave up. It did make sense to get our own place, but calling Maxim to help just meant he’d probably show up sooner rather than later, and we’d get an entire goon squad to watch us. Not that security wasn’t a good idea with bodies falling. Maxim would send Enzo for me, who I liked and trusted, but I had just… I wanted a break. Was that so bad? It was hard to explain that to Ronnie. She’d been in the hospital when Mom decided to call Maxim and connect again to the Bratva. I don’t think she remembered another life. Me, I did. I remember when I could walk to the cafe and get a cup of coffee without having a bodyguard. These few days here with Dimitri had felt almost normal. The couple times I’d gone to the Duck or even tonight when I’d driven alone to the Pit, I’d not been alone. It had been glorious. I’d felt like a normal person. Oh well.

I moved out of the car towards Pike, who watched me with a singular focus. Cross had parked a few spots away, but he nodded to me. “All clear. I didn’t spot anyone.” He obviously wasn’t planning on staying; his motor was still running. “I’m just going to do a few circles and then take off.”

“Thanks.” I was glad Cross was shadowing Pike, even if it just discouraged the person from thinking that Pike was an easy target. I knew he felt it was club-related, but I wasn’t so sure. It just all felt so connected to these victims.

Wordlessly, I followed Pike through the apartment and to the back patio. His home wasn’t exactly what I expected. It was small but exceptionally tidy, with overstuffed couches and a pile of books on the coffee table that looked like they were from the library. I shouldn’t have assumed what his home would look like, but I was still surprised. For some reason, Pike reading a library book was the last thing I expected, and I was dying to look at the titles. Please let them be smutty romance novels, I thought to myself.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked. “We can sit out on the patio.” Just outside the glass doors was a patio overlooking the Arizona desert that looked nicely put together, again nothing like I expected for a bachelor or a biker.

"Sure, a drink sounds good," I replied, trying to ease the tension. "Water will be fine."

Pike nodded and moved to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of water bottles from the fridge. I followed him through the living room and out to the patio, sitting in one of the chairs. The night air was cooler now as it edged towards morning, and the vast expanse of the desert stretched before us, the horizon barely visible in the dim light.

Pike handed me a bottle and sat down, his eyes fixed on the darkness beyond the patio. He took a deep breath, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. I waited, giving him the space he needed to open up. The silence was broken only by the distant sounds of nocturnal wildlife. I had so many questions about his past that only he could answer. I had the barebone facts, but some things could only be supplied by the person who was there and experienced them. Experiences colored your life, as I’d found out. They changed the fabric of your life, threading it with new ribbons and weaving it through with a pattern you didn’t expect.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and rough. "Mary Hubbard was a nightmare. Her place was one of the worst in its own way. I remember…” he hesitated, swallowing hard. I wondered if I should reach out to and comfort him, but he seemed to be barely holding on. The pulse point at his throat beat wildly as he continued. “I remember kids coming in and out of her house dirty and hungry, with bruises they couldn't explain. She was shut down, I think, but not before doing a lot of damage. Like many places, she brought kids in for a paycheck that she could cash. She’d cram as many bodies in as she could.” He didn’t look at me when he said, “She didn’t have a heart.” My breath caught in my throat at the implication of the words. He seemed oblivious and continued, “I don’t have a solid memory of my parents. They were in a car wreck when my brother and I were little. After that, there was a string of fosters. One after the other. Some were bad. You think it — it happened. Beatings, starvation, sexual abuse.” His face turned in the dark, his body pivoting to me. “The only thing I fought for was to keep my brother with me. I tried hard to protect him, but it wasn’t enough.”

“You were just a child. Adults were supposed to protect you.” My heart broke from him. I’d known from some of the reports that this was his story, but hearing it from him made it harder. No child should have to live through abuse. I knew that many did, but it didn’t make it right. I could envision a little boy trying to protect his baby brother and tried not to cry.

“That’s a lie. Adults are pieces of shit.” The words were bitter, hard, and true in some respects. There were undoubtedly adults in my experience who weren’t good people, but my mother had protected me during my childhood. She had sacrificed herself to keep Ronnie and me away from my father. It was a heavy price, but I don’t think she regretted it.

“My brother took it the hardest. He didn’t remember anything about my parents at all. Nothing to anchor him. I tried my best, but he didn’t have any reference.” Pike swallowed some water and looked back to the desert. “He’d take dolls in the house or books with faces. Put an ‘x’ over the eyes, or he’d pull the eyes out. That’s what makes me wonder.” His words caused a chill to move over my skin. The image of a disturbed little boy pulling out eyes made my skin crawl.

My body leaned forward. Ronnie had been looking, but there hadn’t been much in the files other than labeling Eli a ‘problem’ and ‘disruptive.’ I’m sure foster placements that were abusive didn’t want to make any waves or get help for a disturbed child. That would raise a lot of questions.

“We had some good placements, but they were quick to offload us once they became aware of Eli’s little obsession with eyes. He was small, but he was feisty. Calming him down was tricky.” Pike’s voice took on a dreamy quality. “He wouldn’t calm down. He couldn’t calm down until all the eyes were gone.” Goosebumps rose along my body, and the hairs on my neck prickled.

“Do you think this is him? A revisit to the past? Checking off a list?”

CHAPTER

EIGHT

PIKE

That was the big question. Was this Eli? I’m sure I was freaking her the fuck out.

“The method fits, I guess. The eyes.” Taking another swallow of water, I tried to peer into the darkness as if it would have the answers I sought. “I want it to be him,” I confessed. That would mean he was alive, even if it meant he was even more messed up than I thought. Natasha watched me solemnly, but it did seem as if she understood, which was a relief. She had a sister that she loved—a sister who had a brush with death. That look meant she accepted that wish of mine, and I fell in love a little with her right then.

“I’d take Ronnie any way I could get her, even if she was a little broken,” Natasha whispered, confirming that she understood. I nodded, cleared my throat, and rubbed my palms on my jeans.

“Our first few placements were rough, but I’m not sure Eli would remember them. Kent would make him sit in a chair. If he wouldn’t sit still, he’d get hit. He had to keep his eyes open.” Mine fell shut, trying to block out the memories. I’d failed him then. I hadn’t learned he needed me to be there for him in the horror. I’d kept my eyes closed, but he’d had to watch. Natasha had moved over to me, sitting beside me on the lounger, resting her face against my back. “We were small—the two of us. There was a pond there. If Eli didn’t listen, Kent would take me to the pond and hold me under — after.” The words hung in the air. I couldn’t bring myself to say anymore. The memories pressed against me, suffocating.

“Thank you for telling me,” she sniffled. I wanted to grumble that I didn’t want her pity, but I hadn’t gotten comfort like this from another human since my brother would let me hold him. Just for this moment, I wanted to let it play out. Her softness against me was intoxicating—the fall of her dark hair brushed against mine, that peppermint scent in my nose. I could stay in this moment forever. Even talking about that time, reliving it, wasn’t so bad as long as she was here with me. The feeling of suffocation, the tightness of my chest, and the memory of drowning were almost bearable.

“I should have protected him. There was no way that he drowned in that pond by accident.” Even I could hear the conviction and bitterness in my voice.

She sat up, moving away from me, and I suddenly felt like pulling her back and asking her to lean her face against me again, but she said, “The man with the pond? That was Kent?”

“Lonnie Kent. He ruined our lives.” I hated thinking about him but dreamt about him nearly every night. She went stiff, realizing the connection between Eli’s drowning and this earlier punishment I experienced.

“I’m going to ask Ronnie what she knows, okay?” I didn’t want her to. The thought of her or her sister sinking into that ugly world wasn’t something I wanted. It wasn’t because I needed the privacy, but only to keep them unsullied. The last thing I needed was someone else tainted by it. “He’s probably already on the list, but maybe she can find something else,” I said grudgingly. Instead of asking her not to look into it, I said, “Porter and Hubbard. They were in between Kent. There were more, but they weren’t that bad.”

“Ronnie got the coroner’s report. There wasn’t that much there. Nothing that would be conclusive. It was a small town, but Ronnie said that it was sloppy. Handwritten notes and signed off as an accidental drowning. Identification was made just by Kent,” her voice was sour. “I’m going to have that deep dive on him done.” She paused and then very quietly added, “Pike, it wouldn’t look good, but I could talk to Maxim.” I swung around quickly to look at her.

“What does that mean, Natasha?” Her face was stoic, poised, giving nothing away, but I was sure I wasn’t mistaken. “You mean get the Bratva involved? This is confidential, you said.”

“It is.” She was quick to answer, and I could see where she’d bitten her lip and the wetness against her lashes. Her blouse was rumpled from leaning against me, and I wanted to mess it up even more. I’d never have thought she had so much depth to her. She was giving, warm, and loving.

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