Savior Complex: An MM Age Gap Romance (Wild Heart Ranch Book 3)

This is, perhaps, the most surreal moment of my life. My nephew is being gently encouraged to talk about the men he’s killed. Levy—and therefore Anders—was right. This is who he is.

I don’t know how I feel about the way Anja and Georg are handling this. Whether or not theirs is the right course of action…and I don’t know if it’s even my place to have an opinion.

I watch as Ant grimaces by way of an answer to Anja’s delicately worded question.

Erik’s eyes go the size of dinner plates, and Georg gestures at him to cut it. Erik swallows his lips and his hands curl into fists as he paces the living room. Ant’s eyes track him the entire time.

“Ant, darling, I asked you a question.”

Ant snaps his attention to Anja. “Yes. I have killed someone else.”

“When?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Who did you kill?”

“Remember the jogger who was found by Lady Bird Lake with a needle in his arm?”

“No, I didn’t hear about that.”

“I did,” Erik says, struggling to contain himself. “It was an early Sunday morning, right?”

Ant nods. “He’d been befriending old folks who were lonely, convincing them to sign over their property to him. The older folks would then die soon after.”

“Because they were old?” Erik asks, sarcasm on high.

Frustrated, Levy speaks up before the Bashes can. “Erik, if you’re not gonna let him speak freely, then you can go.”

Erik steps up to him, forcing him to tilt his head back. “You do understand he’s talking freely about murder, right?”

I growl my displeasure, despite having recently had a similar reaction to the idea of Ant being allowed to kill. But Levy is already on it, using a single finger to push Erik back an appropriate distance.

“We are all very clear on that, Erik,” Levy says, and I can tell he’s struggling to keep his tone light. “We are taking him seriously. By the way, we are also taking you seriously. This is disturbing information. However, given what we do and his history, none of this is surprising information. If you cannot put a lid on it, totally valid, but take that shit somewhere else.”

Seeing Levy stand up for Ant makes my heart thump so hard it rattles my ribs. I step beside him, kissing his temple, whispering a soft gracias in his ear. Erik and Charlie look between Levy and me, and Charlie covers his mouth, appearing to hold back laughter. Erik, on the other hand, is livid.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Addressing Levy, he lays into him. “I thought you were supposed to be this world-class equine therapist who has this, like, amazing ability to help us with our victims. Now you’re—what?—sleeping with the uncle of one of our victims?”

The room practically explodes, and it takes every ounce of self-control for me not to introduce my fist to his face. Levy squeezes my hand and juts his chin toward Ant, who’s taken Levy’s place in front of Erik.

Pushing Erik backward, Ant’s lip snarls as he says, “I am not a fucking victim, and fuck you for saying that.”

“Calling someone a victim minimizes them and empowers the very people we’re trying to stop,” Bram notes dryly.

Nacho, who’s been watching with horrified fascination, breaks his silence. “Ant is very much a survivor, and you need to get your head around that. Maybe you can remove your head from your ass while you’re there. Or I can remove it for you.”

We’ve had a few conversations on these fencing jobs, and sweet, funny Nacho is also an ex-con who’s used to dealing with powerful, dangerous men. The growling threat in his last sentence is no joke.

Erik holds up his hands and spins toward the front door. Ant’s chin drops to his chest, and he shakes his head.

“Do you think it was easy for your uncle and me to deal with the reality of your cousins?” Anja asks quietly.

She’s talking about Anders and his twin with the weird name. Odd, I think.

Erik pauses at the door, his hand on the knob. “No. I know that was hard.”

“There were two of them, Erik. Two. People always look at my Anders and think he’s the crazy one, but Odd enjoyed the killing just as much. He was simply more reasonable. Even so, do you think there weren’t days they came to us having killed someone in an unfortunate way?”

I shiver to think what it must have been like for two seemingly normal parents to confront the fact that their children were murderous and probably somewhere on the psychopathy spectrum.

Georg snorts. “Why the hell do you think we started using the alligators? That wasn’t in the plan. Getting rid of bodies wasn’t the business we wanted to be in. Staging the bodies made more sense. When they were teenagers, however, the twins didn’t have the control they do now.”

Anja continues, “Sure, we could have wrung our hands, maybe let the justice system take care of them, but they were already going after bad guys. Not the innocent. Do you think we wanted to aim our sons like weapons? No. But we decided to love the boys we had in front of us.”

My head and heart are a swirl of emotions, swinging from being proud of my nephew to being terrified for his safety and freedom to wanting to ban him from any part of this life. Anja’s words, though, are a cold splash of reality.

Erik, however, can’t quite take that step. He shakes his head.

“I can tell you one thing, Erik,” Georg says, keeping a calm tone. “Judging our boys for who they are was never going to be effective. There is no cure for what they are, and you still love them, yes?”

“Of course, Uncle.”

“Yet, despite your history, you stand here, judging Ant.”

“He just admitted to three murders.”

“Were all three bad people?” Anja asks.

Ant darts a look at Erik and then dips his head.

“Were there more than three?” Erik asks, turning back toward the door.

Ant hesitates, but Anja gestures for him to answer Erik’s question.

“Yes.”

Fuck.

“How many?”

“Six.”

“All by yourself?”

Ant nods, looking over at me. My hand goes to my mouth.

“That was very dangerous, sobrino,” I say in Spanish, barely able to keep my voice steady.

Nacho taps his chin. “So…the dates?”

Ant nods again. “Nearly everyone I targeted was on one of the dating apps. I, um…for a few of them, I put on makeup and acted like a girl.”

Ah, damn.

“Ant,” Charlie asks, moving to stand in front of him. “Didn’t that…wouldn’t that be triggering for you? The first thing you did in that hotel when I told you to come with me was take off the makeup he made you wear and change out of the feminine clothes.”

My breath freezes in my throat. “They made you dress like a girl?” I whisper, barely able to form the words.

He’s been careful not to give me too many details, and now I see why. The things he…I can’t help but think of him as a little boy and wonder what that first night without his family must have been like.

Whatever it was like, it was worth fifty thousand dollars to some sick fuck who I plan on beating until he’s dead. It’s all so much worse than I’d imagined these last ten years. I lean into Levy, unable to stop the tears from falling.

“It’s okay, Tío,” Ant responds in Spanish. “Doing this meant I took back the power it had over me. Instead of them using it against me, I used it against them because fuck them.”

I pull away from Levy, wiping my face as I bring Ant in for a hug. Switching back to English, I say, “I understand. I’m sorry for losing my composure.”

“You can be sad that shitty things happened to me. That tells me somebody really cared.”

Erik growls, shaking his head as he rejoins us in the living room. “You already know people care, you asshole. That’s what me and Charlie showed you that night. We saved you so you wouldn’t have to put on the fucking makeup anymore.”

Ant squares up against Erik. “You do realize the forced prostitution was the problem, right? The makeup and girly clothes were just the frosting on the shit cake—you do get that, right?”

I can’t tell if I’m gutted by or proud of the way Ant is speaking so openly about his experience, so I decide to go with both. No one should ever have to go through that and, frankly, I’m glad he’s killed victimizers. It’s something he and I have in common.

In fact, I believe he has that in common with many of the people in this room.

Erik runs his hands through his hair, messing up his man bun. “We saved you so you could completely divorce yourself from that life.”

“I know that, you big dumb oaf,” Ant says, smacking Erik in the stomach with the back of his hand. “I don’t do a damn thing I don’t want to, I can assure you. I put on the makeup because I wanted to.”

“Okay, okay,” Anja says, holding up her hands. Turning to Ant, she carefully takes his arm. “Again, you are very smart with the makeup and the catfishing on the dating apps. Good job.”

Erik goes to say something, but Anja points at him, and he snaps his mouth shut.

Returning her generous, warm attention to Ant, she goes in for the kill. “The only problem with using apps is that, no matter how careful you are, it can be tracked. If somebody puts together that you’re using the dating apps to find the people you feel the need to kill, they can eventually trace it back to you.”

“Oh.”

Erik leans his hip against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Ant, do you trust me?” Anja asks, putting both of her hands on his shoulders.

He nods.

“Do you trust Georg and Anders and Erik?”

He nods again.

“Good. I’m glad you have good instincts and aren’t trying to harm innocent people. Still, there are so many things you don’t know. That’s not your fault, of course, but it seems to me that you need training. Which only works if you’re willing to be trained. Are you willing to be trained?”

He nods enthusiastically.

“Good. Good. You are lucky we have powerful allies because the first thing I’m going to do is call my son and have you tell him all about the murders—every single one—in detail.”

“Is Anders going to be mad at me?” Ant asks, worry flashing across his face.

“No, son,” Georg assures him. “Anders already knows who you are. He and his friends will probably have to do a little bit of clean-up, but they don’t mind. We’re like a big, extended family, and we don’t mind helping each other.”

“Okay.”

Erik straightens, gesturing before the words even make it out of his mouth. “This clean-up my aunt and uncle are talking about? That puts you on Wimberley’s radar in a whole new way. If you go off script, I don’t know what they’ll do. Do you hear me?”

Ant nods. “Wimberley—that’s who Hedy works with, right?”

“Yes, it is.

“Will Anders and them tell her?”

Ant’s eyes again fill with worry—he’s told me how much he likes and respects his therapist—and Erik loses even more of the head of steam he’s built up.

“They will.”

Ant bites his inner lip. “Should I talk to her first?”

Erik nods. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he looks up at Erik with wide, sincere eyes. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Erik reaches out to ruffle Ant’s hair but draws back instead.

“That’s okay. I just want you to be safe. Always.”

“Thank you.” Ant leans toward Erik, and Erik brings him in for a soft hug, rubbing his back.

My chest aches at the sweetness of it. Even though Ant’s complained that Erik thinks of him as a little kid, I bet it’s painful for Erik to acknowledge that Ant is genuinely his own person.

Typical savior complex, I think to myself. I would know. I thought Anders was off his block when he suggested giving Ant the list. Now I understand that we must.

Erik exchanges a look with Anja, and she gestures for him to continue. “My aunt and uncle know your mind better than I do, and they did right by my cousins. The ability to kill without remorse is one of the heaviest responsibilities a person can have. You don’t have that thing inside you telling you it’s wrong.”

“But…that’s not true. I have zero desire to kill good people, and I’d be devastated to find I’d killed an innocent person. It’s the bad people I can kill without remorse. Plus, that’s why I have you and Charlie,” Ant says, tugging on Erik’s open plaid shirt. Gesturing to everyone in the room, he continues, “And Nacho. And Bram and Levy. And now my uncle. You all help innocent people, and that’s what I want to do too.”

Erik bites his lip, his chin trembling for a few seconds before he gathers himself. “Good. Keep building on that. Just remember you’re the equivalent of an automatic rifle. Powerful but devastating in the wrong hands.”

“Do you think Anders will train me?”

Erik makes a disgruntled sound. “I’ll train you.”

The smallest quirk of a smile graces Anja’s lips before she neutralizes it and faces her enormous nephew.

“Will you really train him? Or will you try to stifle him? I think we both know that won’t work.”

He takes a deep breath. “I agree. I don’t want this for him because it’s so dangerous—”

Agreed. And yet…

Ant interrupts him. “And because you remember me from that night.”

Erik clenches his jaw, tilting his head back, staring at the ceiling. They give him a moment to process, and I suddenly have a lot of empathy for the guy. When he looks back down at Ant, a single tear tracks down his handsome face.

“Of course I remember. I was listening in the whole time. The differences between the way you sounded on that bed, the bravery you showed in the bathtub, and the way you looked at me in the back of my truck fucking breaks my heart every time I think about it. The mask, the terror, and finally, the disbelief that there are any good people left in the world? I’ve been doing this for years, and we saw exactly how smart you were, how cunning you had to be. How you had to trust us, even though you didn’t know us.”

Ant lowers his head. “I know you’re disappointed, but this is who I am.”

“I’m not disappointed in you, Ant. Fuck.” Erik rubs his forehead, softening his voice. “I am terrified for you to go on these ops. You are small. You don’t have weapons training. You don’t have self-defense training.”

Bram clears his throat. “Levy and I have actually worked with him quite a bit on self-defense.”

I’ve seen their work, and it is really, really good. Erik seems to accept that.

“I…forgot. That’s good. Great, actually.”

Georg pats his nephew’s arm. “Why don’t you share with Ant—and us—what scares you the most?”

Erik thins his lips and locks eyes with me. Wordlessly, I tap my chest. I get it. Really, I do.

Turning back to Ant, Erik’s voice is steady and kind. “Because of your size and how young you look, you are still vulnerable to trafficking. One miscalculation, one guy gets the drop on you, and…poof. You could be overpowered so easily and then disappear off the face of the earth. It keeps me up at night, the thought that I…that we could lose you. Do you have any idea how terrifying that is?”

“Then make me dangerous, Erik. Make me better. Make me as good as you.”

Erik looks over at me. “What do you think about this?”

I swallow thickly, choosing my words carefully. “I feel many things about this. I think my nephew is trying to take back his power. I’ve seen this in many people who have survived trafficking. They do something specific, something to help them feel empowered again. I am terrified for the same reasons you are terrified. But I am also proud of him. He can do something I cannot. As happy as it makes me to remove a child predator from the earth, it’s never easy and it often stays with me. He’s quite a thing, my nephew. I think Anja is right.”

Ant turns to me and buries his face in my chest, throwing his arms around me.

Erik inhales deeply, then exhales slowly. “Okay. I’ll talk to Anders.”

“And Hopper?” Ant asks against my chest.

Oof. I’ve heard tales about Hopper. A sweet guy but far from sane.

Erik shakes his head, not wanting to agree. “Yeah, probably Hopper too.”

“Don’t forget Odd,” Anja says.

Erik wrinkles his brow. “He’s retired.”

“From the operations, yes. But I know he’d love to help, and there’s something about Ant that reminds me of him.”

“Okay, Auntie. I’ll do it.”

Bram gestures to the table. “We have a lot to discuss, but dinner is getting cold, and that would be a shame.” Turning to Charlie and Erik, he continues, “I hope you’ll join us. There’s plenty.”

Looking slightly humbled, they both nod and join us at the table. Before he sits, Erik clears his throat and turns to Levy and me.

“Uh, before we eat, I apologize to both of you. I…shouldn’t have said that about your relationship. It’s clear you both want what’s best for Ant, and whatever else you do is your own business.”

I shake his hand, and Levy leans in for a half-hug.

“We know you want what’s best for him. We all do. Thank you for apologizing.”

With that, we all sit down for a lovely meal. Anja and Georg carry the conversation. They’re funny and so warm, and their wine is entirely too easy to drink.

By the end of the night, despite the drama—or maybe because of it—I more fully understand how lucky my family is that our Ant found his way here. While we’ll work hard to make sure he knows he’s an important part of the Hernández family, he will also forever be a part of this found family.