frowned and took a large swallow from his glass. His green eyes narrowed. “The man still has an ax to grind. He lost good men in that ‘misunderstanding.’”
“It would have been easier if Fei had bargained a bit before up and taking off with her cousin,” Sam interjected wryly. “Might have saved on the grinding.”
“Culbart didn’t leave her much choice,” Caine drawled, taking another sip. “He’d lost good money in the deal. Holding on to Fei was his best chance of getting it back.”
Ace shook his head. “Or so he thought. Fei did a good job covering her pa had gone bat-shit crazy. You can’t totally blame Culbart.”
Caine cocked a brow at Ace. “You sound as though you like the bastard.”
Ace shrugged. “I do. He’s tough as nails, but he’s got a strong sense of right and wrong.” He took a drink of whiskey. “Not to mention an interesting sense of humor.”
“When the hell did you ever see his sense of humor?” Caden snapped, impatience rubbing his temper raw. He wanted to go, not sit here and discuss Culbart’s good qualities.
“When Caine here sent me to set Culbart straight.”
“You were supposed to intimidate him,” Caine countered.
“I decided to socialize first.”
Caden shook his head. Leave it to Ace to turn an enemy into an ally.
“I wouldn’t say he’s a friend,” Ace continued, “but he’s not hostile.”
Caden straightened. He was doing this, and to hell with Culbart and to hell with argument. If that ruffled feathers along the way, then too bad. “Well, if Culbart still has an ax to grind, let him grind it.”
“Goddamn it, Caden,” Caine snarled. “Why do you have to do this now when we’re spread so thin?”
Because he did. Turning on his heel, Caden walked away, not answering, pushing past Shadow and Tracker, ignoring the surprised lift of Tucker’s brow. As he reached the garden gate, he heard Caine say, “Would someone tell me about this promise?”
“It’s personal, not important,” Ace responded with a blatant lie for which Caden would owe him.
“It’s important enough that the man who never breaks promises is breaking one to keep it.”
Ace swore, “Shit.”
Maddie. Caine was talking about Maddie. Caden had promised her he wouldn’t leave the party before she got back. Caden saw her out of the corner of his eye, standing slightly apart from the others, smiling and watching the dancers, looking as pretty and as inviting as sunshine after a storm. Saw Luke head her way, and swore. She’d get over it. He shoved the gate open and kept walking. As the gate slammed closed behind him, he heard her call his name, the surprise and disappointment nipping at his feet in a tone he’d heard his mother use too many times.
Fuck.
He was his father after all.
CHAPTER TWO
HE WAS LEAVING. Maddie stood, tucked half behind a flowering pear tree, looking at the buds amid the leaves, feeling her hopes fade even as the trees blossomed. New pears that she’d come to think would signal a new beginning for her. In a few months those small, nondescript bulges would be fruit. She’d planned on picking that fruit for Caden, but he was leaving. Leaving her. Leaving Hell’s Eight. Without even a goodbye. To her, at least.
Just like everybody else she’d ever cared about. The man she’d thought was her father. Her mother. Her friends. They’d all left. And she’d stayed, just as she was staying here because she always hoped things would get better. Ever since she’d made the decision to take Tracker up on his offer to come to Hell’s Eight, she’d been clinging to some sort of hope. Hope that life for her could be better. That she could be loved. That she’d have a husband. A home. Children.
And yet here she was, standing among strangers, treating them like friends, mooning over a man who couldn’t see her as woman or whore. Watching him say his goodbyes to others, bracing herself for his absence, for the awful not knowing if he was alive or dead for weeks on end. She shivered, the cold, sick feeling digging into her stomach. She loved Caden so. But beyond a smile whenever she came into his presence and an occasional offhand endearment that meant nothing, he didn’t know she was alive. But that didn’t change the fact he was her heart and he was leaving. Or that she hated it.
The protest started at the edges of her mind, subtle yet insistent, gathering strength like a storm chasing across the plains, gaining volume as it got closer. The howl dissolved to voices from her past, some kind, most of them cruel, telling her what to do, how to do it, as if her pain was nothing. As if she was nothing. The urge to slip away deeper into the foliage until she disappeared clawed at her nerves.
She dug her nails into her forearms, letting the pain drive back the cacophony. Caden was a strong man. He respected strong women. All the women of Hell’s Eight were strong. Sally Mae with her pacifist beliefs, healing ways and defiance of convention. Desi with her fiery spirit. Ari with her gentleness that belied an inner strength that didn’t ever let her quit. Bella who was just pure life. Fei with her purpose and drive. Those were the type of women that Caden admired. That was the kind of woman she needed to be.
She looked over to where Tia stood beside her Ed, the mantilla on her head fluttering in the breeze, catching the smile in her eyes. Tia, who’d lost her husband and her children, and yet had taken on eight young boys, wild boys, hate-filled boys, and turned them into men to be admired. Why hadn’t God sent her a Tia?
She licked her lips and looked to where Caden had disappeared. Maybe the good Lord hadn’t sent her a Tia when she was a child sobbing into her pillow at night, but He’d given her an escape. But now He was taking that away, and she couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t coincidence that as her escape into fantasy stopped being effective, her love for Caden grew. She was meant to come to Hell’s Eight. She truly believed that God sent her here. But she didn’t believe he sent her here to be alone. He sent her here for Caden. For though he was restless and distant, part of the whole yet somehow apart from it, he was a man who needed love, who needed gentleness, and she’d waited her whole life to give her love to someone. It didn’t matter if he recognized it or gave it back. She’d waited her whole life for someone to love. And now he was leaving.
She shook her head. She couldn’t let it just happen. She heard a noise beside her. She looked up. Bella stood there, for once without her handsome blond, blue-eyed Sam, her belly rounded with child, her smile full of that life that gave Sam purpose. Maddie had spent a lot of time studying what attracted these men to these women and what kept them moving. And for Sam it was Bella’s spirit that he cherished.
“You hide again, Maddie.” It was both an accusation and a question, spoken in Bella’s melodic accent that made music of her words. Even the exasperated ones.
Maddie shrugged. “I’m watching to see what needs to be done.”
Bella shook her head. “There is only one thing you watch, my friend.”
As always, Bella’s use of the term “friend” made her jump inside. Maddie had never had a real friend. She’d been kept alive after her birth for a purpose. For a long time
