Xander’s gaze stayed on the road. “The first time you fuck someone, sure, it’s just sex. Maybe even the second and third times. But like it or not, there always comes a point when the sex turns into something else.”
Xan’s voice was so bleak that Rylan had to wonder exactly who his friend was talking about. Reese . . . or Kade?
He’d never been able to figure out Xan’s relationship with their fallen comrade. Best friends, definitely. They’d shared women. Had each other’s backs. In fact, Xan had been as protective of Kade as Sloan was of Reese. And Rylan wasn’t stupid—he knew that Sloan loved Reese.
Maybe Xander had loved Kade.
Fuck, there it was again, that word—love. It had no meaning. It was just a damn word, and probably the most dangerous word there ever was, because it allowed people to use it as an excuse for unforgiveable actions. That was how his father justified what he’d done to Rylan’s mother, breaking her spirit one fuck at a time.
There was nothing wrong with being a whore. In this land, selling your body in exchange for supplies, protection, or a warm bed wasn’t any different than selling your gun for the same.
But his mother had been an unwilling whore. She’d had no say in who she spread her legs for, or for what purpose. There were times when it wasn’t even about necessities for survival. Rylan’s dad ran out of whiskey? He’d send his wife to a nearby outlaw camp where the liquor flowed free. The cigarette stash was whittling down? Rylan’s mom would be sucking off the first man who showed up with an extra pack of smokes.
To this day, Rylan couldn’t forget the sounds of her sobs. Low and muffled as she tried to hide them in her pillow so her son wouldn’t know the pain she was in. But he knew. Of course he knew.
When he was fourteen, he’d confronted his father, demanded to know why his dad kept letting it happen. “Because I love my family,” was the curt response.
When he’d asked his mother why she let it happen, she’d whispered, “You’re going to learn one day, honey, that there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for love.”
Love. Goddamn love.
Hell, even Reese had agreed with him about the foolishness of that concept.
Except . . . a part of him wished she’d argued, insisted that love did exist. Instead, she’d made it clear he was nothing but a lay to her. He wasn’t even her friend, not like Sloan, whose friendship mattered so much to her that she refused to ruin it by spreading her legs for him.
Rylan tamped down his rising bitterness and flicked his spent cigarette out the window. He stared at the dark road ahead of them, which was illuminated by the moon rather than their headlights. It was too dangerous to turn the lights on. They couldn’t risk drawing attention to their vehicles, not after they’d set fire to one of the council’s outposts and killed seven Enforcers. More than seven, if you counted the soldiers Beckett and Nash had taken out. And who knew how many Reese’s team had eliminated.
Reese. Goddamn it. Why wasn’t she checking in?
He didn’t like feeling like this. Didn’t like obsessing over terrifying outcomes that hadn’t even happened. And he wasn’t obsessing about just Reese either. Ever since they’d left Foxworth, Sloan had been on his mind too, another source of worry for him. He liked the man, and not just because he’d had Sloan’s cock in his mouth.
Rylan knew Sloan could handle himself, but it bothered him that they hadn’t left him with sufficient backup. All of Foxworth’s most capable fighters had been assigned to the outpost mission, which meant Sloan was the only line of defense between the town gates and the dangers beyond it.
As if a higher power had decided to spare him any further panic, Rylan’s radio crackled to life. “On our way to the rendezvous,” came Reese’s soft voice. “Should be there in an hour.”
Rylan pushed the button. “Everything okay?” he asked, hoping she couldn’t hear the relief in his voice.
“All good. Just hit a bit of a snag.”
Suspicion tightened his chest. “What kind of snag?”
“Our intel was wrong. The guards weren’t stationed where they were supposed to be and we lost the element of surprise. Had to go in guns blazing.”
“Any casualties?” he said sharply.
“None.”
Another wave of relief washed over him, until he remembered what an evasive bitch Reese could be. He quickly rephrased himself. “Anyone hurt?”
There was a slight pause, then, “No, we’re all good.”
Just like that, his panic returned. “Goddamn it, baby, are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” She sounded annoyed, and a second later the radio fell silent. She’d cut off the feed.
“What?” he snapped when he noticed Xander’s knowing look.
“You don’t care about her, huh?” his friend mocked.
“Shut up. I’d be worried if any one of you was hurt.”
Xander cocked a brow. “And would you call every one of us baby?”