I Do, Babe (Hades Hangmen #5.5)

Styx lifted his head and kissed me. He kissed me so hard and so thoroughly that I was breathless when he broke away. I smiled and watched as happiness filled his gaze. Then, slipping from the bed, I held out my hand. Styx frowned but took my hand regardless.

I led him to the bathroom and to the tub where the fragrant hot water waited. Candles flickered around the dark room, casting a warm glow on the wooden walls. Styx’s arms came over my shoulders, his hands visible before my eyes. “You did all this?” he signed.

“Yes,” I replied and turned in his arms. Styx was watching me, as if he was trying to work out why. “Come,” I said and used his hand to steady my entrance into the tub. Styx came behind me, and we lowered ourselves until we were submerged in lavender-scented heat, my back against his chest and Styx’s arms around my waist.

I sighed with contentment and felt Styx lay three kisses on the side of my neck. I leaned into his touch and threaded my fingers through his. As Johnny Cash sang his gospel songs, I brought our joined hands to lie over my heart and said, “Tell me what is wrong.”

Every muscle in Styx’s body tensed. He tried to pull his hand from mine. I knew it was so he could sign, and I held on tightly, halting his movements.

“No,” I said and looked up to his face. His jaw was clenched, and I saw fear in his hazel stare. Real fear. “Talk to me.” I heard the pleading tone in my voice. I begged with my eyes and could see the despair that lay in his. He turned his head to avert his gaze. “Baby,” I whispered. Then I felt my heart break when he turned to me again and opened his mouth. He was trying to speak, but no words came forth. His head ticced and his eyes blinked, and I watched the man I loved fight against the tightness in his throat. I witnessed the pain in his eyes and saw embarrassment blossom on his stubbled cheeks.

Shaking my head, I released his hand, returning his ability to speak. Styx breathed out in relief as he lifted his hands. But they froze in midair. He closed his eyes then signed, “I’m just going through some shit in my head, babe.” My stomach fell at his too-vague confession. His eyes opened, and I knew he saw my disappointment because he lowered his hands to my face and managed to stutter, “I . . . I . . . l-l-l-love y-y-you.”

My heart melted, my soul cried, and I laid my head on his chest and wrapped my arms around his waist. “You can talk to me. No matter the problem, even if it’s club business, I would understand.”

Styx stilled, and I heard his sigh of frustration. He signed, “You’re my fucking everything, Mae. Never fucking doubt that.” His hand ran over my bump and rose again. “You and our kid. But I can’t . . .” He paused. “I can’t . . .”

“Shh,” I said and lowered his hands with mine. “It is all right.” I saw the sadness in his eyes. “You do not need to say.” Getting to my knees, I kissed his lips. “But when you are ready to talk, I will be here. I am always going to be here for you.”

I saw his shoulders relax. Then he signed, “I can’t fucking wait for you to be my wife. Finally. My motherfucking wife after all these years.”

All the tension, all the worry that perhaps it was the wedding, that he had changed his mind about me drifted from my mind with that single declaration. And I saw it written on his face. It was the truth. He so badly wanted us to be wed. He always had, ever since I came back.

“I cannot wait to be officially yours either,” I said, and a rare smile spread on his lips. As I settled back down in his arms, that smile grew wider. The iPod switched albums, and Johnny Cash’s “I Won’t Back Down” began to play. With his chin on my shoulder and his arms around my waist, Styx began to sing to me.

And he sang each of the lyrics stutter free, his words clear and strong. Hidden tears built in my eyes as I listened to his deep, rough voice singing the hauntingly appropriate lyrics. My strong, hard fiancé, who could only communicate by song or sign, paralyzed by the spoken word, so perfect in my heart.

So as the tears fell silently into the bath water, I listened to him sing. For once in his life, his trapped voice was set free from its cage.

And, for a while, so was he.





Chapter Five


Styx



One week until the wedding . . .



The brothers were in the yard behind me. I could hear the Stones playing and my brothers laughing and fucking joking around. Phebe was back. AK was back to his usual self. Life was back to normal for a while.

I was sitting on the bench in front of Hades and Persephone’s mural. My Fender was in my hands, a smoke was in my mouth, and bourbon sat to my side.

As always, Waits came from my guitar strings as I inhaled deep breaths of tobacco. My fingers played my favorite song, the one that always reminded me of Mae. “Again,” she’d said that first night she’d awoken in the compound. I’d opened my eyes, as I’d played alone in the bar, to see her before me, my fucking dream come true, speaking in that weird accent she still had. “. . . please, play it again. I very much enjoyed hearing your voice,” she’d begged, nose twitching, her ice-blue eyes wide from nerves.

A smirk came to my lips thinking of those days. So fucking much had happened since then. Even more was happening now. The cartels and the Diablos were back on our radar. Garcia had raised his ugly head after all these fucking years. But all that shit was pushed aside for now, until after next weekend.

I hadn’t told her. Mae still didn’t know what was bothering me. She’d given me the space I needed. And being the perfect bitch she was, she hadn’t pushed. She’d fucking loved me, fucked me, been there for me, but said fuck-all since the night she’d tried to talk to me and my throat had closed so tight I’d had no fucking words.

I tipped my head back and looked at the stars above. I couldn’t fucking say my vows. I knew that now. Ky had tried. For the past several weeks, he’d tried shitty idea after shitty idea until, two nights ago, I’d turned around and told him to finally call it quits. He hadn’t wanted to, of course. But there was fucking no point. I was a motherfucking mute and that was that. I’d been this way my entire life. Nothing would change it.

“Suck my cock, asshole!” Vike called out, his voice cutting through the Stones’s “Paint it Black.” I shook my head and looked back at the mural.

Three Waits songs later, the clubhouse door opened and Mae stepped outside. She’d been gone all day with her sisters. Wedding planning and shit. I had no fucking clue. I left them to it.

Lilah, Grace, Phebe, Sapphira, Maddie, and Bella followed her outside. They were all laughing and joking . . . and they were all fucking free. Mae’s arm was linked through Bella’s. As if sensing me watching her in the dark, Mae turned my way and stilled.