Page 119 of Boy of Ruin
He smiles. “Maybe not. But when you had me on your side, I could protect you from everything, just for that reason. Now,” he shrugs, the cigarette dangling from his fingers, “you’re on your own.”
He turns to the door, yanks it open. The warm air from the night rushes in, the scent of pine.
Just like him.
Just like him.
He exhales smoke as he turns to look at me over his shoulder.
“Where the fuck is Sid?” I hear a familiar voice call out.
And something beyond the voice.
An engine is running. A truck?
But something else. Something that makes my stomach twist into knots.
“I’m fucking done with her, and don’t you dare think about taking her with us.” Lucifer is staring at me as he speaks, his eyes narrowed. “She’s let him all over her.” Those words are just for me, but I hear footsteps. See the headlights of what must be a vehicle, but I can’t see them.
Just the light, blinding through the forest directly in front of the cabin.
The footsteps get closer.
Maverick comes into view.
My brother.
My stomach flips as his eyes land on Lucifer, but then slide to me.
He stills, one hand on the railing of the little porch, the other clenched into a fist. He has a skeleton bandana around his throat, and he’s wearing black, ripped jeans. A black tank that shows off his tattooed arms, lean like Lucifer’s. But Mav has a golden tan, golden hair.
And that tattoo on his face, an inverted cross, would be sinister any other day, but right now, it feels like home.
Relief.
That’s what it feels like.
Because he wouldn’t let that sound I heard…he wouldn’t let that happen.
But I hear it again.
Clanking. Like metal on metal.
“Angel,” Mav whispers, and a growl escapes Lucifer’s mouth as he steps up into his brother’s face. His back is to me, that cigarette dangling from his long, lean fingers.
“I told you, she’s not fucking coming back with us.” He pushes Mav, hand flat on his chest. “We don’t need her to figure this shit out anyway.”
Maverick’s baby blue eyes narrow as he glares down at Lucifer. He grabs his wrist, shoves him aside.
Lucifer stumbles back, and Mayhem comes up the steps, toward me.
I don’t know why, but I take a step back.
I’m against the siding of the house, and I hear that sound again.
Metal on metal.
“Maverick,” I whisper in the dark as he stares down at me, leather and marijuana enveloping me. His hand comes to my face, the side where Lucifer slapped me. His jaw tightens, and he doesn’t look away from when he speaks, but I know he’s not asking me.
