Chapter 14

The tears from Heaven met mine as I ran outside into the rain. It was my presence that brought this whole mess into existence in the first place. I figured the lack of it should end it. But as I stood peering around me through the heavy rain, I realized I had no idea of where we were.

I didn't see any type of a driveway, or a noticeable path that I could follow. There were only trees and marshes.

As the rain poured down on me, my clothes and hair quickly became saturated. Indecision stilling my steps, I pushed my hair out of my face. I may not know where the hell I was, but I knew one thing for sure, I sure as shit didn't want to get lost.

The everglades didn't like giving back what it chose to keep. Heaving another breath, I walked over to a tree. Then sitting down on the ground at its base, I leaned back against the rough bark. I was stuck. I had nowhere to go but deeper into the sloughs, and I really wasn't interested in being an alligator's meal. I had enough problems.
~SATAN/TORIN~

Dammit! I'd made Marlowe cry. Hearing the sob she'd uttered had hijacked my anger, and following her, I now stood in the entrance of our hideout, watching her as she gazed at the sloughs.

"Don't do it," I breathed, knowing what she was thinking. The marshes and wildlife out here were no joke. She most likely wouldn't make it half a mile before she'd become dinner for some predator. I found myself letting out a relieved breath when she sat down at the base of a tree. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them, then laid her head on her knees.

With a slight shift, I leaned against the door frame, waiting.

An hour passed before she stood up and began making her way back toward the entrance. I didn't know if she had ever become aware I'd stood watching, but silently, I slipped back within the shadows inside the compound. I didn't want Marlowe feeling I was spying on her private moments, but in truth, I was. I couldn't help it though, I'd had to know she was safe.

Having her near, was torture, yet I basked in her nearness. Just the sight of her fed the part of me that had withered, curled up and ceased to exist without her in my life. For four years, I had done as Dillon had requested. Though I can't deny I'd had to place myself in the Marines so I wouldn't give into temptation.

I had gone to the extreme to keep myself away, but I had come out with the self-control I'd needed, as well, a set of deadly skills and a job.

~~

Early the next morning, I stood staring out the windows of the compound watching the sun paint the sky with the new day as it kissed the top of the trees' canopy. I'd been up for hours, nightmares having plagued the little sleep I had gained, jarring me awake with a silent scream on my lips. It had been a little over two years since I'd gone into the building with Jameison, neither of us had walked out.

Death had knocked, carrying Jamieson out in its wake. However, my team carried me.

I'd let down my guard and I'd had the ground jerked out from beneath me because of it. The feel of the building collapsing beneath me during the explosion had stained my brain, and left me with more than just physical scars.

Yes, time does heal, but sometimes… Sometimes scars remain behind in the wake of tragedy: sometimes, those scars are visible, sometimes they aren't. In my case, they were the invisible kind, the kind others can't touch or feel. The kind, which allows you to cope and move forward… but never forget.

The path to where I was now had been long, and I had too many reminders of that fact. I still saw Jamieson in my nightmares; the blood, the scattered body parts—there had been little left worth sending to his family. I still bore the ache of bones that had been shattered.

No matter what training I had gone through in the service, how they had forced me to grow up, I had walked into that building still a child; I left a man.

The ache in my right thigh was persistent today, and I reached down, rubbing at the pain. I lived with it every day, but today, the pain was deep.

Massaging the area with my fingers, I tried ridding myself of some of the ache, to bring it down to a more tolerable level, but it wasn't happening.

Releasing a breath, I turned and made my way to my bedroom, where my pain pills sat on my bedside table. I hated taking the damn things, but today, I needed them.

**MARLOWE**

The rumble of bikes woke me, and as the words Satan had said were the last thing on my mind as I'd fallen asleep, I naturally jumped to the conclusion the Proofers had found us.

I felt my stomach clutch, the thought oh my God, what have I done? screaming in my head.

Jerking my covers off, I leaned over. Tugging the drawer open in the chest beside the bed, I pulled the pistol Satan had given me out of its depths. Afterward, jumping off the bed, not caring that I wore nothing more than my panties and a t-shirt, I ran to the door.

With a quick twist of the knob, I pulled it open. Then without hesitation, I ran into the hall. I could still hear the bikes arriving, and I began panicking.

By the number of engines, anything we could level against them would be useless: it was going to be a slaughter—Satan's and mine.

Breath heaving in fear and exertion, I started screaming for Satan as I made my way into the large area that had at one time been the lobby of the motel. It was more of a lounge area for the bikers to hang out now, though. However, I found myself the object of almost a roomful of eyes as I came to a stumbling stop.

Of course Jax was the first to say something. "Kickin' ass sleep wear, Meow-Meow. But keep the gun and ditch the shirt and panties."

A volley of agreements made their way through the men, and looking down at myself, I turned beet red. Shit!