GAVIN’S

SONG
ROAD TO SALVATION: A LAST RIDER'S TRILOGY #1

JAMIE BEGLEY
 Young Ink Press Publication
YoungInkPress.com

Copyright © 2019 by Jamie Begley

Edited by C&D Editing & Hot Tree Editing

Cover Art by Cover Couture
Photo (c) Wander Photography

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including
information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by
a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

Connect with Jamie,

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For Kristen
 CONTENTS

Warning
Have you ever wondered what happens to two souls destined for each other before they even meet?
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
6. 8 years later
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Acknowledgments
Reading Order
 WA R N I N G

This book contains scenes that some readers may find disturbing, including graphic depictions of
rape and sexual assault, and is intended for adults only.
Reader discretion is advised.

Reading this book… will be like entering the dark web.

ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.
H AV E Y O U E V E R W O N D E R E D W H AT H A P P E N S T O T W O S O U L S
DESTINED FOR EACH OTHER BEFORE THEY EVEN MEET?

Well, this is it…

 PROLOGUE

G avin jogged along the sandy stretch of beach, enjoying the cool breeze coming in from the
ocean.
“Have you decided who to ask to the bonfire tonight?”
At his best friend’s question, Gavin didn’t misstep as he continued to jog. “Not yet. Any ideas?”
“A few, but none that you would want to ask.”
Gavin laughed at Tony’s sarcasm, not taking it seriously. The two of them being attracted to
different types of girls worked to both their advantages. Tony liked slim and easy, while Gavin was
attracted to girls of various sizes and who challenged him. He was equally attracted to girls who put
out as much as any red-blooded sixteen-year-old boy, yet he found himself enjoying the more
experienced girls who were smart enough to avoid every Tom, Dick, and Tony.
“I was thinking of asking Lacey.”
Gavin stopped jogging when Tony started laughing.
His friend turned around when he saw Gavin wasn’t next to him. “What?” he yelled out, walking
back to him.
“What makes you think Lacey won’t go out with me?”
“Other than, she’s out of your league.” Snorting out a puff of air, Tony started laughing again.
“She’s been going out with Devan since freshman year, and she makes fun of you riding Loker’s old
bike to school.”
“It’s a classic.”
“It’s shit.”
“I’m working on it.”
“You’d be better off getting a part-time job to buy a car. There’s a reason girls like a guy with a
car. It’s called a back seat.”
“Who needs a back seat?” Gavin waved his hand at the miles of beach ahead of them. “I have a
blanket in my saddlebag.”
“Dude, chicks hate fucking on the beach all the time. Once or twice is fun, but that fucking sand
is a pain in the ass. It gets everywhere.”
Gavin shrugged, unconcerned. “They get tired of it, then we can go to my house. Ton is cool with
me having sleepovers.”
“Most girls don’t want to make out with a parent in the house.”
“I haven’t had a problem with it. Most of them like him. They think my dad’s cool.”
Tony’s shoulders slumped. “He is. My parents are lame as hell. My dad would have a heart attack
if I tried to sneak a girl into my room, and you don’t even need to sneak them inside. Ton lets you do
anything you want.”
“Yeah right. I wish. Ton can be a hard-ass when it comes to schoolwork, drinking, and being out
after curfew. He’d just rather me be home at night than out on my bike.”
“I’d rather put up with that shit than having to fit in my back seat every time I want to get laid.”
Gavin grinned, turning on his heels to start jogging again; Tony caught up alongside him.
Hell, he knew he had it made. He had dreaded Ton retiring from the military, used to it being just
him and Loker since he was twelve years old. Their mother had woken up one day and decided out
of the blue that she was done waiting for Ton to retire and having the responsibility of two sons. To
give her credit, she waited until Loker was seventeen and about to graduate before leaving. Ton had
almost resigned his commission before Loker told him that he would take care of Gavin until his dad
finished his tour. Three years later, Ton returned home and Loker had left the next day to fulfill his
own dreams of being in the Navy.
The last year had been hard adjusting to Ton back full-time instead of being in the background as
he had been most of his life. To complicate the transition, he missed Loker. His older brother had
been more of a father to him than Ton. They had been close before his mother left and had grown
closer after being left on their own.
When he was younger, he had hero-worshiped Loker. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. All
his friends were jealous Loker was his brother. Girls were fascinated with him, and even the
teachers admired Loker and automatically liked Gavin just for being related to him. Loker had the
cool friends and didn’t take shit from anyone. The bullies and thugs learned to give Loker a wide
berth. He had earned a reputation in school and throughout town that if push came to shove, he
wouldn’t run from a fight.
His brother was only five years older than him, but always had the maturity of someone older.
While it benefited Gavin that Loker had accepted responsibility for him until Ton retired, it had its
disadvantages. In some ways he was a harder taskmaster than his father. Loker had been
overprotective to a fault sometimes. The two months before he left had been spent with the two of
them butting heads. Even now when he called, Loker gave him hell if Ton told him that Gavin broke
one of his rules. Gavin just wanted them to go back to being brothers like they had been before his
mother left and to leave the parenting to Ton—now that he was home.
Turning his head to the side, he realized Tony had fallen behind him, standing with his hands on
his thighs and gasping for air.
Sprinting back, he lay a hand on his back, concerned his friend had overexerted himself. “You
okay? You need your inhaler?”
“No, just give me a sec.”
“Take a load off. I need a break, as well.” Gavin dropped to a sand dune, resting his arms on his
knees.
“Fuck you. I don’t need you babying me.”
“Waa … waa … Then quit sounding like one,” Gavin mocked. “Rest. When you’re ready, we’ll
walk back. I need to get a shower and call Lacey to see what time she wants me to pick her up.” He
boasted, confident that she would say yes.
He was relieved when Tony sank down onto the sand and leaned back on his elbows.
“I have to hear that—”
Gavin also leaned back on his elbows to stare up at the sky, letting the last rays of the sun hit his
face. He saw a small plane flying past.
“It’s kind of low, isn’t it?” he asked absently, interrupting what Tony was saying.
“Yeah. Maybe they’re looking at houses on the beach?”
“I don’t think so. It’s heading the wrong way.”
Gavin stood, watching the plane continue its flight over the ocean until it was out of sight.
Brushing off the strange feeling seeing the plane gave him, he turned and gave Tony a hand. “You
rea—”
Gavin nearly stumbled as Tony started to rise when the sudden feeling of weightlessness
overwhelmed him. Disoriented, it was Tony who kept them from crashing back down to the sand.
“Dude, you trying to kiss me?”
Gavin had to shake his head as goose bumps traveled up his arms and the hair on the back of his
neck rose up, as if sensing danger was about to strike. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he righted himself.
Turning to stare back at the waves rolling toward the beach, he took a step forward, narrowing
his eyes on the water, trying to understand why he wanted to run into the water and start
swimming.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You’re freaking me the fuck out!”
“I don’t know ….” Gavin ran a hand through his hair, feeling as freaked out as Tony by his own
behavior. He had never experienced anything like it before and couldn’t explain it to his friend.
“You must have stood too fast.”
Gavin nodded, not taking his eyes off the water. “I guess you’re right.”
“You ready? I need to find a date, unlike you I can’t pull one out of a magic hat.” Tony started
walking back the way they had come. “You coming?”
Gavin had to force himself to move. “I’m coming.”
When they were back alongside each other, Tony gave him a crooked grin. “You know I was just
joking about the kiss part, right?”
Gavin grinned back. “Don’t worry; you’re not my type.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Dude, you smell. You need a shower.”
Sidestepping the elbow that his friend tried to bash into his ribs, Gavin gave one last look at the
ocean before taking off after his friend—instead of running into the water like he wanted to. Tony
would think he’d lost his mind, and Gavin would agree with him. How in the world could he explain
the feeling that had every nerve ending in his body on fire? If he told Tony the truth, he would really
freak out. Hell, he wanted to and it was happening to him. His brother would laugh his ass off if he
told him. He could practically hear the pretend conversation in his head.
“So, why in the fuck did Tony have to fish you out of the water?”
“I was chasing goose bumps.”
he team of men walked silently through the jungle, their determined expressions indicating the

T
deadly seriousness of their mission. Lives were at stake, the fact two of those lives were
children kept the men from engaging in their typical back and forth banter.
Raising a commanding hand when they reached the spot he previously scouted, the thick
foliage and huge palm trees providing cover from prying eyes or satellites, the team readied
themselves. Then two moved forward, inflating the two RHIB boats that had been airdropped a
week before.
The boats had been configured to his specifications, including dive doors so if any of his intel was
wrong and they were spotted, no one from the isolated beach would be able to see what was going
on in the boat.
However, he wasn’t worried about being seen; the intel wasn’t wrong. He had taken care of it
himself, just as he had handpicked the men.
His nine-member team was the best of the best from each branch of military, specially trained to
perform rescues on land and water. He had commanded each of the members before and had
chosen those who not only had the capabilities he needed to make the mission a success, but ones
who had never screwed up, either personally or on assignment. They would give their own lives
before accepting failure.
He hadn’t wanted to involve too many team members in the rescue, but he decided on having
enough fail-safes in place that any miscalculation wouldn’t end with a loss of life.
As the boats inflated, the men changed into their scuba gear, geared up, and double-checked
their equipment. Then he and three of his men climbed into one of the boats and five went into the
other to wait for his signal.
Glancing down at his watch, he saw it was almost time. Adrenaline was coursing through his
bloodstream as he raised the high-powered scope, watching for the plane that should be within
sight any minute.
Spotting it, he climbed into the four-man, black, powered boat that would blend into the sea
swells, making them invisible to the naked eye. Raising his hand, he waited for the signal he was
looking for, and when the wing of the plane dipped, then righted itself then dipped again, he
dropped his hand and immediately lowered his body down to the belly of the boat as it took off.
As the plane dove toward the ocean, all he could do was wait for the final act of his meticulous
plan to play out. Every part of this mission rested on his shoulders. Not only had he chosen the men
in the boats, he’d picked the pilot because of his expertise in flying high-risk missions.
He wasn’t as good a pilot as Bull, but he was damn close. Bull could set a chopper or an airplane
down on a dime, and he needed that expertise for the mission’s success.
This was his last mission, and he had no intention of ending his command on a failure. He had
spent years kissing higher-ups’ asses to get the promotion he was about to step into. He earned it
by sacrificing the woman he loved and the life they could have had together. He hadn’t been willing
to leave his career, which was the only thing that meant more to him than her. As much as he
wanted to, the time for making a different choice had come and gone; it was too late for regrets.
Turning his head, he maneuvered himself to the dive door. He would be the first one in the water.
The man he picked as his replacement would be readying to do the same thing from the other boat.
Like him, failure wasn’t in his vocabulary.
Body taut, he watched as the plane took a nosedive toward the ocean. As it did, his own stake in
the success of the mission had him wanting to get in the water too soon, like a competitive swimmer
too impatient to wait for the signal to go off. However, a false start could not only cost the lives of
the girls they were rescuing but also the future he worked so hard to achieve.
It didn’t dent his conscious one bit that he was cold-bloodedly going to use the mission he
commanded to further his own agenda. He wouldn’t be the first government official who sacrificed
his morals to attain his level of power, and he wouldn’t be the last. The meticulous preparation the
military drilled into him assured the success of the calculated operation he’d devised for the
mission. The only thing standing in his way was the survival of the three-year-old little girl on the
plane, who had the potential to ignite a powder keg between nations from her knowledge. Not only
did she unwittingly hold their fate in her hands, she held his. His enemies would laugh their heads
off that Major Timothy Cooper, who had destroyed more than one military career with a single
word, now had his own career hanging in the balance.
As soon as the nose of the plane was within kissing distance of the ocean, he would be in the
water. Fear that the plane could come crashing down on him was nothing compared to the horror
his life would become if his private life was exposed. Unlike the man who would be expertly
swimming by his side, who still believed in the job he would be taking over, but who didn’t know it
had been carefully maneuvered into a shadowy plan without his knowledge.
The sound of the plane coming closer had the muscles in his thigh bunching, preparing to push
himself through the open door. For the first time, he feared he wouldn’t succeed.
In this position, he had to turn over the split-second timing to another team member to give the
final signal; too soon and the plane could come crashing down on them, too late and the girls—most
importantly the three-year-old—would drown.
The hairs on his body tingled under his suit as two other divers prepared to follow him into the
murky water, visible from the see-through door.
“Go! Go!”
Within a millisecond he was gliding through the water, toward a future that not even a body of
water as vast as the ocean was strong enough to keep him from claiming.

T he cloudless sky seemed to go on forever. Three-year-old Evangeline stared out the tiny window
wishing she was back in their grandmother’s house; her little hand shook in her sister’s. The
lingering smell of the Christmas dinner they’d had the day before still clung to the air when they left
for the airport.
Instead of cereal, she had begged her grandmother for a sandwich with turkey, dressing, and
cranberry sauce. She had never had the jelly before, and she hadn’t wanted to eat it at first, but it
was now the most wonderful thing in the world to her. It tasted just like Christmas.
If her sister hadn’t managed to talk their parents into them going alone to visit their
grandmother, so they would be able to experience a real Christmas with snow and presents, she
wouldn’t have ever known that dark cherry jelly tasted so good. She wanted to live with her
grandmother forever so she could eat it every day.
The visit had been so short that the brightly decorated tree was still standing when they left that
morning. Her sister had to tug her away from the tree as their grandmother waited impatiently by
the door.
“We have to go.”
Staring up at the blinking star on top of the tree, Evangeline had wanted to fall to the floor and
beg her to let them stay longer. Catching the worried glance her sister gave their grandmother, she
had allowed herself to be led away.
“It’s going to be okay. Don’t be afraid.”
Pressing her trembling lips together, Evangeline turned away from the small window to look at
Trudy. Her sister never lied to her, so if she said it was going to be okay, it would be. Then, why was
she so scared?
Her stomach lurched as the plane she was in jerked suddenly. Gripping her sister’s hand tighter,
she bit her lip to keep from yelling out.
“It’s going to be okay.”
Squeezing her eyes tightly closed at the repeated reassurance, she tried hard not to cry. “I’m
scared. I don’t want to play our game anymore.”
She felt her sister shift as close to her as the armrest would allow.
“You have to, Evangeline. Snow White didn’t want to run away. She was scared at first, too, but
she had a happy ending, didn’t she?”
“I guess so,” Evangeline reluctantly mumbled, trying not to cry. “I want to stay with you.”
“You can’t. If I go with you, the mean king and queen will find you.”
The only good part about the game that Trudy had talked her into playing was that she wouldn’t
have to see their parents again. They scared her. They scared everyone. Even Manny, who was older
and stronger than her.
“Don’t cry.”
She opened her eyes at her sister’s voice. Trudy looked like she also wanted to cry.
“I won’t.”
“You promised me to be brave.”
Nodding her head at her sister’s reminder, she forced herself to let go of her sister’s hand. “I’ll
be brave.” Out of all the promises that Trudy had begged her to swear to during their trip, this one
scared her the most. She didn’t want to break her promises. Trudy had told her what could happen
if she did.
“I know you will be. I will, too.”
Her big sister being just as scared helped calm her rolling stomach. Evangeline didn’t want her
sister to be afraid. It made her sad, and she didn’t want Trudy to start crying again like she had last
night. She heard the sounds of her crying in the small bed that they shared together after her
grandmother tucked them in and turned the light out.
A movement from the front of the plane had her grabbing her sister’s hand again. Terror filled
her when the man rose from his seat and moved toward them.
Placing a hand on the back of Trudy’s seat, he leaned over them and adjusted their seatbelts.
“You girls ready?”
Evangeline could barely hear him over the sound of the engine, so she looked at her sister, then
mimicked Trudy’s nod.
“When I yell, now, I want you to hold your breath and close your eyes tightly.” His eyes pinned
her in place, his direct gaze making it difficult to swallow down the panic that had her wanting to
cry again. “You’re going to hear a lot of scary sounds, but you won’t be under water long before
someone will help you. I’m not going to let either of you get hurt.”
 Evangeline found the tight knot of fear easing at the man’s assurance.
“I’m not afraid.” Her voice came out so squeaky that Evangeline had to clear her throat. “I’m not
afraid.”
The pilot’s expression softened. “Trudy said you wouldn’t be.”
Evangeline’s eyes watered when he pressed the palm of his hand down on Trudy’s head to lower
it to her knees. Seeing that he was about to do the same to her, she forestalled him by doing it
herself. She was shaking so badly that she was glad he tightened her seatbelt, afraid she would
have slipped out of her seat if he hadn’t.
Hearing the sound of him returning to the front of the plane, she couldn’t help reaching out for
Trudy’s hand again.
“Evangeline?”
It took her a second to answer, not sure she wouldn’t break into frightened tears. She wanted to
be brave for Trudy and show her that she could keep her promises, because she needed her sister
to keep hers.
“Yes?” she finally managed to croak out.
“Promise that you won’t hate me when you miss me?”
“Okay.” She sniffled. “I won’t.”
“Clearwater! Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! I’ve lost power! I’m going to crash!”
Her mind filled with terror, she gripped Trudy’s hand tighter, all the promises she made
forgotten when panic and fear of the plane crashing became real and not just something that her
sister said would happen in the game she had been talked into playing. Deep down in her mind, she
thought it was just an imaginary game that would end when they were back home on the island with
their parents.
Evangeline cried harder when she heard the shout from the front of the plane. How was she
supposed to hold her breath the way Trudy had taught her when her nose was stuffed up from
crying?
“Now! Now!”
Terror had her wanting to raise her head to scream at her sister to make it stop. Turning her
head to the side, she opened her eyes to see Trudy’s eyes opened and staring back at her with her
head on her lap. The emotion she saw there gave her the courage to stop crying. It was her fault
that Trudy had to come up with the game that she didn’t want to play either.
Instead of screaming like she wanted to, she started singing the first song Trudy had taught her.
“Yes, Jesus loves me, for the Bible told me so.”
Trudy started singing the next part with tears sliding down to her lap. “Jesus loves me, this I
know.”
Before Evangeline could take her turn to sing, the life she knew ended with the sound of the
plane crashing, into the ocean that she had learned to swim in before she could walk.
As the water rushed her, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the ocean swallow
her into a sightless void.
Feeling Trudy’s hand let go of hers, she wildly flayed out, searching. Terrified, she opened her
mouth to scream for Trudy, but instead of water rushing into her mouth, she breathed in air as a
mask was abruptly pushed against her face.
The more she breathed in, the sleepier she became. Drowsily, she squeezed her eyes shut tighter,
afraid of what she would see if she opened them.
Falling limp, she felt her body gliding effortlessly through the water, clutched in someone’s
strong arms. Instinctively she wanted to struggle away, but then she remembered her promise to
Trudy. She had to be brave until Trudy could make her own escape from the king and queen. Her
sister had told her that the man who would get her off the plane would protect her and make sure
no rotten apples would ever get near her.
“Promise me that you’ll do everything he tells you to.”
Evangeline solemnly nodded, feeling how important the promise was to Trudy.
“No matter how unhappy, or how much you miss me.”
Evangeline reached out and wiped away the tears sliding down her sister’s cheeks. “I promise,
sissy.”
The memory broke when the mask was taken off. She was lying on a small boat with a stranger
next to her who was wrapping a blanket around her.
Evangeline recognized the man from the picture Trudy showed her before she had torn it up. He
was the one Trudy had said would protect her until she would be able to do so herself. In his
picture, he looked a little mean, but close up, he seemed kind of nice. He looked at her the way
Manny did.
“You okay, kid?”
Shakily nodding her head, she started to rise up to see if Trudy was on the small boat, even
though her sister had told her she wouldn’t be. She was glad he held her back down as the bottom
of the speeding boat hit the water. It was going so fast that she was afraid she would go flying off.
“I’m Hammer.” The man didn’t give her a friendly smile like most adults usually did when they
looked at her.
Swallowing hard, she stared up at the darkening sky. “I’m Ginny.”
The game had begun, whether she wanted it to or not.
 CHAPTER ONE

E vangeline reached into the popcorn bowl, watching a cartoon on the television in front of the
small bed she was sitting on. Chewing on the mouthful of buttery goodness, she felt guilty
enjoying it without her sister to share it with. Thinking about her sister made it hard to swallow and
not start crying again.
Curling into a ball, she pulled the bowl of popcorn into the curve of her waist, closing her eyes
after losing interest in the cartoon that Hammer had turned on for her to watch before he went into
the bathroom.
She was bored with watching cartoons; that was all she had done since Hammer carried her into
the small house. He wouldn’t even let her go outside to play, despite how many times she asked.
Tugging the Teddy bear that Hammer had given her closer, she rubbed her cheek against the soft
fur, pretending it was Trudy.
She didn’t even raise her head when she heard a soft knock on the door, having become used to
Hammer’s friends coming to talk to him or to use the shower.
None of his friends talked to her, making her miss Trudy even more. Her sister would have been
able to talk Hammer into letting them go outside to play and get his friends to play with them.
Trudy was good at games, much better than she was. She always messed up and got in trouble
when she played the games the wrong way.
“We need to talk.”
Evangeline trembled at the voice of the man who had come to the door. He had been in the boat
when Hammer had finally let her sit up.
Evangeline didn’t want to tell Hammer that the stranger gave her an icky feeling. What if she
told Hammer she didn’t like his friend? Would Hammer get mad at her? She really didn’t want to
get him mad at her. Since she had been staying with him, he had let her eat anything she wanted
and watch as many cartoons as she wanted. She had asked him if he had a little girl, and he had
told her he didn’t. She bet he would make a good daddy. She wished he was her daddy. She didn’t
like hers, and she really, really didn’t like her mother. She didn’t miss them at all like she missed her
sister and grandmother.
Her stomach flipped. What did the man she didn’t like want to talk about that he didn’t want her
to hear? Was he going to talk about Trudy and didn’t want her to know? He was using the same tone
of voice her mother and father used when they didn’t want her and Trudy listening in to what they
were saying.
Evangeline made sure she didn’t move as footsteps approached the bed.
“She’s asleep. We can go outside.” Hammer’s low voice trailed away as he moved away from the
bed.
After she heard the door open and close behind them, she stayed still until she was sure that
neither man was coming back. Carefully opening her eyes, she made sure she was alone in the room
before sliding out of bed.
Hammer hadn’t let her go outside to play, but he had let her play wherever she wanted inside.
Hurrying up the narrow flight of steps in the small cabin, she crawled along the loft to a tiny
window. Sitting under the window, she slowly pushed the window open a crack before wrapping her
arms around her knees to listen.
“What in the fuck in going on, Commander? There was supposed to be a female officer sent to
relieve me two weeks ago. I was only supposed to be here one day, two at the max.”
Evangeline tightened her arms around her knees at the bad word Hammer used. It was one of
the words that Trudy told her was very bad when Manny once used it in front of them.
“There’s been a change in plans.”
“What change? And why wasn’t I notified before now?”
“I decided that it was better to wait. I didn’t want any inquiries about why we needed a female
officer until the child’s death was accepted. It would have been too suspicious for a female officer
suddenly being ordered to go off the grid.”
 “That wouldn’t have been a problem if you had chosen a female member for the team, which I
and the others have been saying we need.”
“Are you questioning my decisions concerning the team?”
“No, I’m not questioning your decisions; I just don’t like them.”
Evangeline jumped at Hammer’s raised voice.
“Don’t make me write you up for insubordination. You wouldn’t like it if I did. There are worse
jobs to do other than playing babysitter.”
She shivered at the threat that even she could understand. Hammer must have heard it too
because he acted more courteous, like Trudy did when she got in trouble with their parents.
“Yes, sir.”
Evangeline thought that Hammer was finished talking to the mean commander and was about to
sneak back downstairs. Getting on her knees, she started to crawl away, then froze in place when
Hammer started talking again.
“Did everything go as expected?”
“Yes, as far as everyone is concerned, Evangeline is dead, as well as the pilot. Trudy was the only
one successfully recovered from the plane crash.”
“Then my replacement’s on her way?”
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean not exactly?”
“There has been a change in plans, as I said, one that ultimately rests in your hands.”
“My hands?”
“I have a situation that I need your help with, Hammer.”
“My help?”
Evangeline crawled back to the window.
Hammer’s commander sounded like Trudy did when she wanted her to do something she didn’t
want to do.
“I’ve found myself in a delicate situation that I need your cooperation with.”
“Peyton.”
“Yes.”
“You’ll get no help with me to cover that shit maneuver you made me a part of. I invited you to
stay at my home while your wife and kids went to visit her dying father and you were supposed to
be looking for a new home closer to base. Instead, you were using your free time to make a young,
impressionable girl fall in love with you. Not only did you take advantage of Peyton, but her family
trusted you. They thought you were a good guy because you were my friend. Hell, I didn’t want to
believe it myself. How could you have been so fucking stupid?”
Evangeline didn’t understand most of what Hammer was saying but could hear the anger in his
voice.
“When I came back from overseas and found out that her aunt had thrown her out because she
was pregnant and refused tell them who the father was, you fucking lied to my fucking face that it
wasn’t you.
“I told you then I was going to find her. You might be good at intel, but Jonas is better. You should
have okayed him for the team. Jonas doesn’t investigate his commanding officers. It might have
taken us more time than I wanted it to because you made damn sure that secret was hidden, but she
was still close enough for you to use whenever you managed to sneak away.
“Peyton might be over eighteen now, but you can still be brought up on ethical violations. I have
enough proof to make sure you won’t get away with it. I promised you a chance to resign before I
reported you, because I didn’t want you replaced on the mission to get Evangeline out. The teams
worked too hard preparing for it and, as much as I hate you, I wasn’t going to have that little girl’s
safety jeopardized. If you think you can change my mind now that it’s over, you can fuck off. I intend
on calling the director when I go back inside—”
“I don’t think that would be in your best interest.”
Evangeline scooted closer to the wall under the window, becoming afraid and not knowing why.
“Move, Cooper, or I’ll move you myself.”
She started shivering at how angry Hammer sounded.
“Watch how you talk to me. I sent the team back to headquarters; it’s just the two of us now. I
might have trained you, but I can take you out anytime I want to, and no one would question me
about why I did it.”
“Try it.”
She wanted to stop listening but was too afraid to move away.
“Hammer, hear me out before you make a mistake you’re going to regret.”
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life but turning you in for getting an underaged girl pregnant
won’t be one of them.”
“Not even to save that little girl you’ve been protecting for the last two weeks? Not even to
protect Peyton and Rae?”
Rocking back and forth on her bottom as she wound her arms around her knees again,
Evangeline knew they were talking about her. She became even more frightened when Hammer
didn’t answer the mean man’s question.
“No? Then you’re signing the death warrant of that child and every man on the team, including
us.”
“You’re full of shit. You’re just trying to save your own ass.”
“Am I? You’re one of four men on earth who knows who we’re protecting Evangeline from. Do
you really think President Patterson will lift a hand to save any of our lives if he has any doubts that
he could be connected to her disappearance? Even all the agencies at his disposal wouldn’t be able
to keep Patterson alive. Not only would he throw us under the bus, he would be behind the steering
wheel. He did what he could do to save her life, but taking a bullet? He’d hand over each name
before that would happen, and you know I’m telling the fucking truth where that’s concerned. Even
taking him out of the equation, do you think any of us would stand a chance drawing another breath
if they find out we have her or where she is?”
“We would be protected if it were found out.”
“By whom? Our team wouldn’t be able to help—we’d become the targets. Who’s left to help? The
government—including the president—and the whole world knows what power Allerton holds. He
has diplomatic immunity for any crimes he commits in the United States and he owns homes and
businesses around the globe. The only reason that child is still breathing is because Garrick went
over the director’s head and asked his father to pull strings to get a private meeting with the
president. If Garrick’s father and the president hadn’t been college roommates, we wouldn’t be here
having this conversation. And, if Allerton finds out Evangeline is still alive, Garrick’s life won’t be
worth shit. None of us even knew of Evangeline’s existence until Garrick stuck his neck out to break
cover to save her.”
Garrick? Evangeline didn’t know anyone named Garrick.
“You thought this over before agreeing to the mission when the president asked if it was possible
to get her out, didn’t you?”
“I’d be lying if I said no. And before you put a bullet in my head the way I know you want to, I
suggest you listen to the rest of my plan before you do.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. Not if you want to keep everyone alive.”
Evangeline laid her head on the wall, wanting to go back downstairs and go to sleep and wake up
in her grandmother’s house with Trudy sleeping next to her.
“I’ve given my resignation. My last order was to make you head of the team.”
“You think by making me commander that I’ll keep my mouth shut?”
“No, I know you well enough to know that won’t be the easy way out for me. I made you
commander for the simple fact that it benefits me. I’ve been offered a position in Washington, and I
have every intention of taking it. There’s only one thing standing in my way.”
“Me.”
“You give yourself too much credit, Hammer. Having a mistress might make me persona non
grata at the military functions I’ll be invited to, but as far as the duties I’ll be taking over, it will be
swept away. Peyton’s relatives have already washed their hands of her. An unwed mother doesn’t fit
in their social circles.”
“They disgust me as much as you do.”
“Believe it or not, I love Peyton.”
“I don’t.”
“I do, and whether you report me or not, I’ll continue to see Peyton.”
“You don’t give a fuck about Peyton or Rae.”
“I’m not going to stand here all night and argue with you about what I do or do not feel about
Peyton. Rae may be an unfortunate encumbrance—”
Evangeline started crying when she heard the shuffling of the men fighting.
“If you ever call Rae unfortunate again, I’ll kill you. The only reason you’re still breathing is
because Peyton begged me not to kill you when I found her. You’ve got her convinced she loves you,
and that if anyone finds out about her, you’ll take Rae from her.”
“I would.”
The mean man was just as awful as her mother. Evangeline felt sorry for Hammer; he wasn’t
going to win the fight against the mean man. He was too nice.
“Over my dead body.”
“Don’t you get it? If my plan doesn’t work, none of us will be alive. If you’d listen, you’d have to
admit it’s the only chance any of us have to stay alive. If not, you might as well start digging all our
graves. The other men on the team might not have known why it was so important for us to get
Evangeline out, but Allerton won’t care. They’ll be liabilities to him. Liabilities that he won’t allow to
smear his image.”
“You and Allerton have a lot in common.”
“If that were true, we wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation, nor would Peyton be
an issue. Peyton wouldn’t be breathing. Anyone who comes close to exposing Allerton is dead.”
When Evangeline heard only silence, she started to rise onto her knees to see what they were
doing. Before she could, though, the mean man continued talking.
 “Evangeline’s sister is with their grandmother. Soleil is furious that her golden child died, and
she’s blaming Trudy, saying that Evangeline would still be alive if she hadn’t convinced her to let
them leave the island for Christmas. You should have seen the act Trudy put on when her mother
told her she would be staying at a hotel with her instead of with the grandmother when she and
Jasper arrived in the States.”
“It wasn’t an act. Both girls are terrified of their mother. From the bits and pieces that
Evangeline has told me since we’ve been here, Soleil controls every aspect of her children’s lives, as
well as those people she’s supposed to be helping. When she can’t, then Soleil gets their father
involved. Jasper might come across as a brilliant water engineer, but from the information that
Garrick’s been able to leak out, he doesn’t have any conscience about placing certain villages low
on the priority list.”
“Trudy had a screaming fit when her parents told her they were about to go back to the island.
She kept screaming that she wouldn’t get on a plane again. The grandmother said that Trudy could
stay with her until she recovered from the trauma of losing Evangeline and the plane crash. Neither
Soleil nor Jasper tried hard to change Trudy’s mind, and they didn’t hide the fact that they blamed
her for Evangeline being on the plane.”
Evangeline was glad her sister would be able to stay with their grandmother. Joy filled her at
what the mean man was telling Hammer.
Did that mean she would be able to go live with their grandmother as well? She missed her sissy
so badly. She had only met their grandmother when they went to her house for Christmas. She
wouldn’t mind living with her forever if she could be with her sister. She could buy her more of the
jelly in a can.
“That works out better than we anticipated. It would have been too suspicious not to be
recovering anyone from the plane crash, but it didn’t sit well with me that we couldn’t also extricate
her.”
She was right; Hammer was a nice man.
“We did what we could. Trudy isn’t a threat to Allerton; Evangeline is. That is if we can keep her
alive. That’s going to depend on you. The only way to keep her alive is to make her disappear
without telling anyone where she is. If the mission is compromised, no one can be forced to give
away her whereabouts if they don’t know her location. I found a place where Peyton and Rae can
live a couple of states away. If my involvement with the mission gets compromised, I’ll be the first
target Allerton goes for, and I’ll cover any tracks that could lead to them. Allerton won’t hesitate to
use them to make me talk, which is why I’ve already turned command over to you. You’ll be the only
one who knows where she is. I don’t want to know, and the president doesn’t want to know either.
Her safety will be solely in your hands.”
“And why would I agree to keeping my mouth shut about Peyton and Rae? You’ve already turned
command over to me.”
“I’ll do what I have to do to keep Peyton safe. Allerton won’t kill me if I’m the one who tells him
that Evangeline is alive and what she knows. I’ll be an ally he can only dream about having. I won’t
want to sell Evangeline out, but I will to make sure that Peyton is out of danger. I won’t have her
hurt to get information out of me.
“It will only take the president to decide to use her as a bargain chip, or one of the team to fuck
up and discuss the mission to the wrong person to put Allerton on the trail of finding her. As the
commander of the mission that extricated her, I’d be the obvious person for him to go after first.”
“If you’re so fucking concerned about someone being safe, how about the wife and kids that you
acknowledge?”
“Cassandra has agreed to put Tim and Marilyn in a private boarding school where they’re
equipped at protecting children of high-profile parents. I’ve also bought a house where it’s guarded,
gated, and I installed additional security myself. They’re as safe as I can make them, but truthfully,
no one is untouchable if Allerton decides to target them. The only way any of us can live normal
lives is if Evangeline’s death is accepted and no one finds her, at least until we’re in a position that
none of us will be in danger.”
“When in the fuck will that be?”
“That’s not our call; it’s the president’s.”
“Jesus Christ! You want me to sell my soul by keeping quiet about Peyton to protect Evangeline?”
“I want you to do your fucking duty! As much as you hate me, take a step back and think
objectively the way you were trained to. I’m not proud of my behavior with Peyton. I fucked up. If I
could do things differently, I would, but I can’t. The only way I can make amends is keep her safe. To
do that, I need your help.”
“You forgot one thing; I have another choice. One that will keep Peyton, Rae, and Evangeline just
as safe.”
“Kill me? You know me better than that. I plan every eventuality. That’s why I’ve never failed on a
mission, even when the odds are against me. I made a file that has to be updated daily. If anything
happens to me, Allerton will be contacted about Evangeline.”
“Are you insane? What if something happens to you beyond my control?”
“Then I suggest you make sure I live a long life until Evangeline can be useful. Well, what’s it
going to be?”
“I really don’t have a choice, do I?”
“No, you don’t.”
“Don’t look so fucking pleased with yourself. You’re good, damn good. I’ll give you credit for
playing dirty and tying my hands, but you’re not going to have it all your own way. I’ll find a place
for Peyton to live, and I’m going to make it as hard as possible for you to get to her. I’ll keep an eye
on her myself so that, when you do manage to see her, it’ll take you more than a few hours’ drive to
reach her. Limiting your access to her won’t make her happy, but it’ll make my fucking day. You’re
going to convince her that it’s your idea, or she won’t go for it. I’d cut you out of her life if I could.
“Peyton already threatened to run away with Rae when I told her I was going to report you.
Some distance from you is the only thing I can do right now for her, and if she finds out that I’m the
one responsible for moving her so far away from you she’ll hate me.”
Evangeline saw a tiny spider crawling over the windowsill as she continued listening to
Hammer’s outburst of anger, still not understanding everything he was telling the mean man.
“You sorry piece of crap”—she heard him yell even louder—“you think you won? I hope I’m there
the day when you finally realize what you could have had with Peyton. If you truly cared about her,
you would have divorced Cassandra and waited for Peyton to get older. You could have had it all, but
you had to be a greedy bastard. Get out of my face before I decide killing you would be worth
chancing that little girl’s life.”
When Evangeline heard the sounds of footsteps coming back into the cabin, she used a gentle
finger to nudge the spider back out the window before gingerly pulling the window shut. She
quickly crawled across the loft to sneak back downstairs, and already covered herself and closed
her eyes, when she heard the door open and close. Behind her closed lids, she saw the light go out
and heard the television being turned off.
Holding her breath, she waited for Hammer to go upstairs to sleep.
“Kid, I know you’re awake.”
Her eyes flew open to see Hammer’s shadow by the steps.
“Next time, I better not catch you listening to my conversations.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Your sneaking around is what got us in this mess in the first place.”
His harsh voice had tears welling up in her eyes.
“I won’t do it again,” she sobbed out.
“Quit crying.”
“Okay.” Evangeline was afraid of making Hammer madder at her, but she wanted to ask him a
question. “Can I go live with my grandmother?”
“We’ll see.”
Whatever hope she had that she would be able to live with Trudy died.
“We’ll see” was always the answer when adults didn’t want to tell the truth when you were
crying.
“I’m going to bed. You need anything?”
“No.”
“Good night.”
Evangeline didn’t respond, too upset with him to be polite the way Trudy had taught her.
Hammer might be a nice man, but she hated him right now. The mean man said that Hammer could
hide her wherever he wanted. He could let her stay with her grandmother and Trudy if he wanted
to.
Evangeline heard Hammer go up the steps, and then she heard the rustling of him getting on the
mattress overhead.
Pulling the corner of the blanket up to her mouth, she used it to wipe her tears away. She missed
Trudy so badly ….
As she lay on the bed crying, she remembered that the mean man said if she was found, Trudy
would be hurt. That was when it finally dawned on her why Hammer couldn’t let her stay with her
grandmother and Trudy. Hammer wanted to protect them the way Trudy said she was protecting
her when she had made up the game they were playing.
This was her fault, because she had done something Trudy had kept telling her not to do. She
didn’t want her sister hurt, and she was going to do what she had promised Trudy until they could
be together again.
She would be brave.
Were three-year-old girls supposed to be brave? She didn’t know, but she was going to find out.
 CHAPTER TWO

“Y ou want me to push the swing for you?”

Evangeline shook her head, rubbing her tennis shoe in the dirt instead of using it to set
the swing in motion. She didn’t want to have fun. She was never going to have fun again.
Staring out at the dark park, Evangeline was ready to go back to the small cabin. She was
excited when Hammer told her that he was going to let her go outside to play, and she was even
more excited when he buckled her into a car seat, telling her that he was taking her to a park. Her
eagerness faded, though, when she started to get sick to her stomach from the long car ride.
When he stopped at the park, it was already dark and she no longer wanted to play. There
weren’t any other children around, and the trees were big and scary looking, like they would reach
down and grab her with their branches.
Bright headlights pulling into the parking lot had her excitement building again. It could be a
mommy or daddy bringing another little girl to play.
Disappointment filled her when only an older man got out of the car.
“Hammer.”
“Hunter.”
Evangeline looked up from where she’d been digging grooves into the dirt to watch the men
shake each other’s hand before hugging each other.
“It’s good seeing you.”
“Great seeing you as well. I appreciate you coming.”
“I enjoyed the drive. I wish you let me bring Rachel; she would have liked meeting you. She’s
always saying she wants to put a face to the man I’m always telling her about. How’s Jonas doing?”
“He’s doing well. I hope to meet Rachel one day. How’s John?”
“John’s in the military now. He just left after spending a week with his mom and sister.”
“Army?”
“Navy. I know. Don’t make that face at me. Rangers might lead the way, but he wanted to follow
in his old man’s footsteps.”
“Then he’s walking in good ones.”
The man laughed. “You always did know how to kiss my ass when you wanted a favor. What is it
this time?”
“It’s a big one.”
“Tell me what it is, then I’ll decide if I can do it.”
“Fair enough.”
Her shoe slipped in the pile of dirt, nearly making her slip out of the swing, when Hammer
nodded his head in her direction.
The man called Hunter walked over to stand over her, his face becoming clearer from the light
shining down from the light poles that surrounded the playground.
“Hello, little lady. What’s your name?”
She gave Hammer a quick glance before answering. “I’m Ginny.”
“She’s the favor I need from you.”
Hunter didn’t look back at Hammer, continuing to stare down at her. His kind eyes took in the
crooked ponytail that Hammer had tried to fix and the clothes that were so big he had to roll the
bottom of her jeans up so she wouldn’t trip over them. “My name is Will.”
Evangeline took the large hand that he held out to her. At the warmth of his hand, she suddenly
wanted to burst into tears. His eyes turned even softer when she didn’t let his hand go. Turning his
hand over, he clasped hers comfortingly.
“You don’t look like you’re feeling good. Are you all right?”
“My stomach hurts,” she said tearfully.
“She got carsick on the drive,” Hammer explained. “I tried to get her to eat, but she didn’t want
anything. I managed to get her to drink some Gatorade.”
“Poor baby.”
 Evangeline found herself lifted into his arms. Then he rested her on his hip with one arm while
he dug into a pocket with the other hand to take out a piece of candy to give to her.
“It’s peppermint candy. I always keep a piece on me. My wife also gets carsick.”
She looked down at the candy in her hand before unwrapping it and popping it into her mouth.
Then she put her arm around his shoulders and relaxed against him.
“Feel better?”
Evangeline nodded against his shoulder.
“She’s cute as a button,” Hunter said as he turned back to Hammer. “She’s not yours, so how’d
you end up with her?”
Hammer tilted his head to the side. “How do you know she’s not mine?”
“Other than she doesn’t look a thing like you? The clothes don’t fit, and you wouldn’t have her
out in the dead of night unless you had to. She’s the favor you’re needing from me?”
“Yes.”
“What do you need?”
For the first time in a long time, Evangeline felt everything was going to be okay. She felt safe
with Hammer, but the man holding her was soothing her like she had always wanted her father to
do when she was scared.
“I need her to disappear.”
“You going to tell me why? Or for how long?”
“I can’t tell you much.”
“Jonas can’t help you out?”
“Jonas and I are around each other too much. Cooper retired. I’ve been assigned as commander
as his replacement. I need Jonas on the team. He should have already been, but Cooper wouldn’t
approve it.”
“The major probably didn’t want Jonas snooping around—he’s one of the best I ever trained. But
when I retired, I didn’t recommend Cooper to fill my command. He could be a sneaky son of a bitch
when it suited him, which is why I warned you before I left.”
“If you didn’t recommend him, how did Copper get command of the team?”
“Cooper’s been a bootlicker long before you entered the service. As much as I had my suspicions
about him, he’s brilliant and deserved the promotion. It might have been a harder choice if your
ears hadn’t been too wet to take over, but you only made the team a year before I left. If Jonas
hadn’t been finishing his training as a computer specialist, I would have been able to request him
for the team. I wish now I had just waited to leave.”
“Why would you wish that? You only met Jonas a couple times when you went out drinking with
us.”
“I recognize talent when I see it. Besides, I wanted someone who I knew would have your back. A
man is only as good as the men you surround yourself with; that’s the lesson I’ve been teaching John
since he was a kid. And, Cooper was becoming too jealous of your accomplishments. A leader isn’t
envious of someone else’s achievements; you use them to benefit the team.”
“I agree.”
“That’s why you’ll make a better commander than Cooper, especially if you can get Jonas on your
team.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“It wasn’t a compliment; it’s a fact. Just don’t prove me wrong.”
“I won’t.”
“Back to this little lady. I’ll be happy to take care of her. Rachel will spoil her rotten.”
Her heart raced at what the man who was holding her said. She could live with him, and he
would be there to hold her all the time.
“I don’t think that would be safe. We were lucky to fake her death. If it comes out that she’s still
alive, they’ll look at anyone with a connection to me. I think you would be low enough on the totem
pole that you might escape his notice, but I won’t chance it. Allerton is known to do his homework
before he strikes.”
“Gabriel Allerton?”
Evangeline felt her hair stir as Will sucked in a breath at the mention of the name she hadn’t
learned to be afraid of until it was too late.
“Why would you be worried about him finding out about Ginny? He runs the largest charity
organization in the world. He’s always on television, showing the work they are accomplishing.”
“Helping third world countries learn to thrive isn’t all he’s accomplishing.”
“I see. And without specifics, which you can’t tell me about, why didn’t we just take him out
instead of having to relocate this little angel?”
“It wasn’t our call.”
“Ahh … I see. One had his uses; the other one is dispensable.”
“What does dis-pen-sable mean?” she questioned, raising her head to stare up at the man holding
her.
“Nothing, little lady. You feeling better?”
“Are you going to put me down if I say yes?”
 “No, unless you want me to.”
“I’m better.” Evangeline laid her head back down, starting to fiddle with a button on his shirt
contently.
“What do you want me to do with her if you don’t think Rachel and I can keep her?”
“I don’t want to know. I trust your judgment. Find a place where she’ll be safe and keep it to
yourself. If Allerton finds out she’s alive, not only will she be eliminated, but so will anyone who had
any contact with her.”
“What does eli-man-dm mean?” she asked sleepily, still playing with the button.
“Nothing. Stop listening, or I’ll put you down.”
Evangeline quit playing with the button to put her hand over her ear. She felt laughter under her
head.
“She’s as smart as a tack, isn’t she?”
“You have no idea.”
“I’ve dealt with that before. John was pretty smart, when he was little. How old is she?”
“She just turned four. Ginny’s a clean slate that you can fill any way you want to. No one but
Cooper knows I have her, and he doesn’t know that I’ve passed her care over to you. For all intents
and purposes, she doesn’t exist anymore. I haven’t seen or talked to you since your retirement.
Even the phone I used to call you on was clean. You’ll have to come up with her paperwork yourself,
and when we leave here tonight, you won’t see me again. You’ll become just someone I served with
briefly and lost contact with.”
“Hammer, I might no longer be in the military, but the government wouldn’t go to this level to
protect someone unless there’s a reason. That usually boils down to how useful they can be. So, you
might reconsider asking for my help. If I do, she’s not going to end up being a pawn somewhere
down the road.”
“I know.”
Evangeline smiled at Hammer, mimicking the funny one he was giving his friend. He looked as
handsome as Manny when he smiled.
“Anything else I need to know before I leave? Where’re her things?”
“She doesn’t have anything. I said you’re starting with a clean slate, and I mean it. Throw the
clothes she’s wearing away when you get her new ones.”
“Will do. Ginny, you want to say good-bye to Hammer?”
“Bye, Hammer,” she said, not raising her head.
“You always had a way with children,” Hammer said as he stepped forward to pat her awkwardly
on the back. “There’s not another man I trust as I do you, other than Jonas. Thanks, Will.”
He leaned down to face her. “Ginny, I want you to practice those numbers I told you to
remember, every day.”
“I will. I promise,” she said innocently, ignoring the reprimanding glare that Hammer was giving
her.
“Give it back, Ginny.”
Mulishly, Evangeline gripped what was in her hand tighter.
“Will, there are a couple of things I should have warned you about her.”
“Like what?”
“She’s a pickpocket.”
 CHAPTER THREE

“G
shiny.”
ive it back.”
Evangeline held her clenched hand to her chest at Hammer’s demand. “But I like it. It’s

“Give it back.”
She stubbornly shook her head, putting her hand under her armpit, then snuggled into the nice
Will. “It’s mine now.”
She wasn’t going to miss Hammer; he was always making her give things back.
“No, it’s Will’s. Don’t make me tell you again ….”
She stared at him pitifully from under her lashes before bursting into tears. “But I want it …
please.”
Raising her eyes in surprise at Will’s laughter, she had to use her free hand to circle his neck
when Hammer reached to take her out of his arms.
“Let me handle this,” Will said.
Hammer gave an angry look at her but stopped.
“How about a trade?”
She stopped crying. “What do you have?” She looked down with interest as he dug into his
pocket and pulled out a handful of different colored candies. “How many can I have?”
“You can pick one.”
Evangeline knew when she was being played. “Three.”
“One,” Will said firmly.
“Mine’s better.”
“Two.”
“Trade.” She slowly and distrustfully pulled her hand out from under her armpit, expecting him
to snatch her wrist before she could open it. When he didn’t, she slowly opened her hand to show
the shiny star. “It’s so pretty. Can I keep it?”
“I need it for my job. How about I find a store on the way back and buy you some new clothes
and see if they have a plastic one?”
“Okay.” She lifted her hand so he could take the star as she picked out two candies from his
palm.
“Rewarding her with candy isn’t going to teach her to stop.”
Narrowing her eyes at Hammer, she mimicked the mean look he was giving her.
“You’ve had your hands full with her, haven’t you?”
“You have no idea. I do believe in spanking, and she’s come close a couple of times. She swiped
my watch when I was sleeping, and I about never got it back from her. I’m giving you fair warning;
her favorite things to snatch are sunglasses, anything—”
She leaned forward in Will’s arms to put her hand on Hammer’s mouth so he would stop telling
on her.
Will almost dropped her when Hammer pulled her hand away because he was laughing so hard.
“—shiny,” Hammer finished.
“Tattletale,” Evangeline said, sticking her tongue out.
“We’ll work on breaking that habit, won’t we?” Will said when he stopped laughing.
“Do we have to?”
“You better behave. Will has a jail that he can put you in for time-out.”
“What’s a jail?”
“The way you’re going, you’ll find out before you’re six.”
“Is jail good or bad?”
“I’m thinking jail would be good for you.”
“You two cut it out. The way you two are going at it, I’ll be lucky to be back in Treepoint before
next week. And Hammer, I’m not going to use my jail to scare a four-year-old straight.”
“She’s four going on twenty, and don’t say I didn’t warn you. Make sure you keep an eye on her.
She’s as slippery as an eel when she wants to get away from you to play.”
“I like to play.”
“You do?” She looked up from carefully opening one of the candies she picked, popping it in her
mouth.
“Yes, I used to play games with my son when he was a little boy. Maybe I can teach you some of
the games I used to play with him, and you can teach me the ones you like?”
“Okay.”
Hammer shook his head at them. “Obviously, I screwed up not keeping a steady supply of sugar
to make her behave. I’ll put the car seat in your car. When you buy the clothes and the plastic
badge, pick up another seat—”
“I know. I’ll ditch it.”
Contently sucking the strawberry candy, she held onto Will’s shoulder as he carried her to his
car. It was only when the car seat was in the back seat that she truly realized she was going with
Will and leaving Hammer behind.
The moment her bottom hit the car seat, she burst into tears and started struggling to keep Will
from buckling her in place.
“Hammer!” she sobbed out.
Will placed a hand on her chest to keep her from falling out but moved to the side to let Hammer
lean in.
“Kid, I told you that you wouldn’t be staying with me.”
“I’ll be good,” she promised.
“I know you will, but you need more than I can give you. I don’t know how to play. You need
someone who will let you play and you don’t have to stay inside all the time. In a few weeks, you
won’t even remember me.”
“Yes, I will.” Struggling, she tried to slip out of the car seat as Hammer buckled her in.
Once she couldn’t get away, Hammer turned to Will. “Give me a minute with her.”
Tearfully, Evangeline watched as Will moved away and Hammer bent down until he was eye-level
with her. “Kid, I made you a promise, and I need you to keep yours. You told your sister that you
could be brave, and so far, you have been. She’s just as sad as you are, but you know what makes
her feel better?”
“No … What?” She hiccupped between sobs.
“That you’re safe. I told you that I’ll somehow figure out a way that you can see her again
without anyone finding out, and I will. It’s just going to take some time. Until then, you have to be
what?”
“Br-ave.”
“That’s right.” Hammer laid a gentle hand on her head. “I can’t fix a stupid ponytail. You deserve
someone who can. Will can find someone who can.”
“He will?” She looked to where Will was standing, seeing that he was upset that she was crying.
“Yes. Will has a knack for helping kids. He helped me once when no one else would. I wouldn’t
trust him with you unless I was 100 percent positive that he can do the same for you.”
Tears sliding down her cheeks, she leaned her head back on car seat. “Okay.”
“Practice that number I gave you every day, but you only call if it’s really, really important,
okay?”
Evangeline stopped crying, holding her hand out expectantly for the phone that he taught her to
use. Hammer laughed, patting his shirt pocket to make sure his phone was still inside.
“Will is going to buy you your own.”
“A shiny one?”
“I’ll tell him to let you pick it out.”
“Okay.” Evangeline opened her last piece of candy to put in her mouth. “Bye, Hammer.”
“Bye, kid.”
She impatiently watched as Hammer shut the car door, then stood outside talking to Will. Her
mind was already on the shiny new phone that Hammer promised her. She was going to pick the
shiniest one the store had.
She gave a bright smile when Will got into the car behind the steering wheel.
“Can we go get my phone and badge now?” she asked eagerly.
“Yes. You comfortable back there?”
Nodding, she waved at Hammer as the car started moving.
“Can I have another piece of candy? I don’t like this one.” Evangeline stuck out her tongue to
show him.
“How about we get you some real food first, and then I’ll let you pick another one?”
“I’m only hungry for candy.”
“After you eat.”
“Okay.” Swallowing the small piece of candy that was in her mouth, she scrunched around in her
seat to reach in her pocket.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” she lied without remorse, finally able to get her hand in her pocket and pull out what
she was after. Unwrapping the wrapper, she placed the purple candy on her tongue, finally content.
Then she looked up to see Will staring at her from over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” she mumbled around the candy.
“Ginny, it’s not nice to steal.”
“What’s steal?”
“I’m pretty sure Hammer told you what stealing is, but in case he didn’t, it’s taking something
that’s not yours.”
“It’s not stealing if I share.” Scooting in her seat to get in her pocket again, she held out her
hand. “You can have the green ones.”
“Who taught you how to do that?”
“What?”
“Steal.”
“Manny. We shared everything.”
“You did?”
“Mmmhmm,” she said around the candy. “He was my best friend in the whole world.”
“Was?”
“I can’t play with him anymore.”
“Maybe one day you’ll be able to play with him again.”
“That’s what Trudy said.”
“She did?”
“Mmmhmm. She said it would be a long time, but that I had to go somewhere else first before I
could see Manny again.”
“To stay with Hammer?”
“No. To Heaven.”
 CHAPTER FOUR

“C an I go outside to play?” Evangeline looked up from the doll’s dress she was trying to hook
her badge onto.
“In a little while.”
Expecting to get the same answer she had been getting since she had come to stay with Will, she
wanted to jump up and down in happiness, but the sad look that Will gave her stopped her.
“I don’t want to play outside. I’ll just stay here and play with my doll.” Protectively putting her
arms around her mound of toys, she scooted herself behind a chair that was next to the couch.
“Ginny—”
“I don’t want to play outside. I want to play in here with you,” she pleaded, tilting her head to the
side to peek over the arm of the chair at Will. “Please.” She bit her quivering lip, holding her doll
tighter.
“Sweetie ….”
A knock at the door had her scooting backward until she hit the wall. No one had knocked on the
door since Will had brought her to his home.
Leaning her head sideways, she saw a tall man come inside. He was bigger than Will and looked
the same age. The bushy beard hid most of his face. The coveralls he was wearing reminded her of
the clothes Hammer had given her that were too big.
“You’re early, Freddy.”
“I have to get Ezra and Leah picked up early. No need me making two trips when one will do.”
“I told Ginny it would be later today. Maybe we should wait until tomorrow if it’s more
convenient for you.”
“Where is she?”
Will pointed to the chair where she was hiding. “Behind the chair. But if she doesn’t want to go,
we’ll wait until tomorrow. I can put off Rachel from coming back from staying with her niece for a
few more days.”
Evangeline pressed back against the wall as the man moved to stand over her.
“She’s a little thing, ain’t she?”
“Yes,” Will said gruffly.
The man pushed the chair aside, then squatted down next to her. “That’s a pretty doll. What’s her
name?”
“Molly.”
“That’s a pretty name. My little girl has a doll. She named her Issie.”
“That’s a silly name.”
His mouth quirked up in a smile. “I told her that, but she still calls her that. Maybe you can help
her give her another name.”
“I don’t want to.”
“That’s okay if you don’t want to. Issie is growing on me.”
She stared back at the man curiously. “How old is your little girl?”
“Leah is four. How old are you?”
“Four. So, she’s my age?”
“Yes. She likes playing with her doll, as well, but she gets sad sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because she doesn’t have any other girls to play with. She has a lot of brothers, but I don’t have
any other girls. I was hoping you could help me out with that.”
“How many boys do you have?”
“So far, seven.”
Evangeline gaped at him. “Are they dwarves?”
Freddy laughed as he sat down on the carpet. “Only Ezra, but he’s only one.”
“Aw … he’s a baby?”
“Yes. Leah tries to use him as her doll, but she gives him back when he cries.”
 “You let her hold him?”
“Of course, she’s his sister. Leah is very careful with him.”
“She sounds nice,” she said begrudgingly.
“I think so, but I’m a little partial because she’s mine. May I?” Freddy pointed to the badge that
was barely hanging onto Molly’s dress.
Waiting until she reluctantly nodded, he then reached out and straightened Molly’s badge.
“There you go.”
“Thank you.” Evangeline swallowed the lump in her throat.
“You’re welcome.”
“Are you going to make me go live with you?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the doll.
Freddy wiped the tear away that was sliding down her cheek. “Only if you want to. I could use
another girl to spoil. Your new brothers are excited to meet you. The oldest two are making cookies.
I hope you like cookies.”
“What flavor are they?”
“Chocolate chip.”
“I like peanut butter.”
“I reckon we can smear a dab of peanut butter on yours.”
“Does Leah like to play outside?”
“As a matter of fact, she does. Do you?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted shakily. “I want to stay with Will.” Unable to hold back her tears
anymore, she started crying.
Molly fell to the floor when Freddy picked her up and settled her on his lap.
“Don’t you want me to be your new papa?”
“I want Will to be my papa!” she howled into her hands.
“I reckon we can work that out.”
Evangeline stopped crying. Spreading her fingers wide, she lifted her lashes to see the smiling
older man.
“How about Monday through Saturday, you can be my little girl, and Sunday, he can be your
papa? Will that make you stop crying?”
She had to think it over. She would have seven brothers, a new sister, and two new papas.
The men stayed silent while she sat on Freddy’s lap.
“Can I hold the baby?”
“If you promise to be careful and not drop him.”
“I’ll be very careful.”
“Then I reckon you can. Of course, we only let family hold Ezra. Everyone is overprotective of
him, so we can’t tell them that Will is also your papa. We’ll have to keep that a secret just between
you, me, and Will.”
“I can do that. I’m good at keeping secrets.”
“That’s good to know. Of course, that means you’re going to have to be a Coleman to be real
family. How does Ginny Coleman sound to you?”
“I can hold the baby?” she checked.
“As much as you want,” her new papa agreed.
“Then I like Ginny Coleman.”
“Then I guess we need to get your stuff and hit the road.”
Freddy sat her down on the floor before standing up and holding his hand out for her. Taking his
hand, she got to her feet, then ran to the room that Will had given her to get the suitcase he had
packed for her this morning.
Wheeling the Barbie suitcase through the bedroom door, she heard Freddy and Will talking.
“You better make damn sure those charges against me are dropped.”
“I told you I would. You just worry about your end of the bargain. If she’s not happy and taken
good care of, I’ll make sure what’s left of you will spend the next twenty-five years in the federal
penitentiary.”
“I swore I’d treat her as my own, and I meant it. I ain’t going to tolerate you breathing over my
shoulder. When she walks out that door, she’s going to be a Coleman, and you’re not going to have
any more say over Ginny than you do my other youngin’s.”
Will looked like he wanted to argue with Freddy, but instead he went into the kitchen and came
back with a grocery bag.
“Use this for your toys,” he said, giving her the bag.
Evangeline took it but didn’t bag her toys; she wrapped her arms around Will’s legs and buried
her face in his trousers. “What is today?”
“Thursday.”
Looking up, she saw the sadness in the eyes staring down at her. “How many days until Sunday?”
“Three.”
“That’s not too bad, is it?”
“No, it’s not too bad at all. Sunday will be here before we know it.” Will bent down to pick her up
and held her tightly to his chest before giving her enough room to breathe. “Freddy will bring you
to church, and I’ll see you there. Your new papa and I will take you out to breakfast after the
service.”
“I ain’t letting a youngin’ of mine near that kook. I take the kids to the park after I give them
their Sunday school lesson. I ain’t letting that kook teach my kids about the Good Book when he
doesn’t practice what he preaches.”
“And you do?” Will said skeptically.
“I do a hell lot better at it than Saul Cornett does, and that’s a damn fact.”
“The park works for me,” Will agreed.
“Fine with me.”
She slowly gathered her toys, feeling her papas watching her. When she had nothing left to pick
up, she hefted the bag up into her arms.
Freddy took the bag in one hand and picked her up with his other, her bottom resting on his
strong arm with her legs dangling down. “Don’t look so sad. I reckon, if you get to missing the
sheriff too bad before Sunday, I can bring you to town to get a quick hug.”
Evangeline gave her new papa a bright smile.
Giving her a funny face, he pretended to drop her before gathering her back up high on his arm.
“You just better remember I’m your real pa, or I’ll get jealous.”
Giggling, Evangeline reached out to give Will a hug. “I love you.”
Will hugged her back. “I love you, too, little lady.”
“Got to be going. Sonia’s going to tear a stripe off my hide if I make her miss her hair
appointment. See you Sunday, Will.”
Evangeline waved to Will as her new papa started to carry her through the door.
“Just a second, Freddy.”
Her smile dropped when Will put his hand out.
“Give it back, Ginny.”
“But I want it. Mine isn’t shiny like yours.”
“I ordered you a shiny one. When it comes in the mail, you can have it.”
“I’ll give yours back when you give me my new one.”
“I’ll give you a piece of candy.”
Evangeline patted the bulging pocket on her pink overall. “No.”
He stared at her bulging pocket suspiciously before he put his hand in his pocket, taking out two
pieces of candy. They were both green.
“Call Sonia,” Will told her new papa. “You’re going to be late.”
“Why? That woman bitches a blue steak when I’m late.”
“I want to show Ginny where I work.”
 CHAPTER FIVE

E
top.
vangeline leaned forward in the car seat as the car bounced over the rutted road that her new
papa was driving over. The trees were so big that the car’s roof stopped her from seeing the

A sudden cry had her turning back to the infant car seat that was placed in the middle of the
back seat.
“Leah, put the paci back in Ezra’s mouth.”
She watched enviously as the pretty little girl sitting in another car seat like hers expertly put
the paci in the crying baby’s mouth.
“If he spits it out again, I’ll let you do it if you want to.”
Evangeline nodded, watching the baby intently, hoping he would spit it again. When he didn’t,
she looked up to see the brown-haired girl staring at her curiously.
Reaching into her bib pocket, she took out a handful of candy to show her. “You want a piece?”
Leah’s eyes widened in wonder. “Your mama let you have all that candy?”
“You don’t worry about where she got that candy from,” Freddy barked out from the front seat.
Both girls jumped, startled. Evangeline nearly dropped the candy, frightened she had done
something wrong.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to raise my voice. You can share the candy.”
Slowly, afraid to make her new papa angry again, Evangeline held the candy out for Leah to
choose from.
“Don’t be scared. Papa likes to yell a lot. You’ll get used to it.” Taking a candy, Leah gave her a
sympathetic glance.
Darting an apprehensive gaze at the front seat, she opened a piece of her candy before putting
the rest back in her pocket.
“Mama doesn’t let us have candy. She says it makes me hyper and will rot my teeth out.”
“What’s hyper?” Evangeline asked curiously.
Leah shrugged. “I don’t know, but she says it does.”
“Will it make me hyper?” Opening her mouth, she showed her new sister her teeth. “Are my teeth
rotted?”
“They look fine to me.” She shrugged again as she strained in the car seat to get a better look at
her teeth. “If you’re worried about it, I can eat the rest of the candy for you.”
“Behave, Leah. It’s her candy. Her teeth are fine.”
They both started giggling when the car went over another rut, sending her new papa bouncing
up and down. The bobbing motion must have jarred the paci out the baby’s mouth. Hesitantly, she
reached out to put it back in, looking at Leah to make sure it was allowed.
At the encouraging nod, Evangeline gently slipped the paci back in Ezra’s screaming mouth.
Then she smiled proudly at Leah, who smiled back.
When the car came to a stop, she tried to look over the front seat to see where they were but
could only manage to see the dashboard.
“We’re here!” Leah shouted excitedly.
Evangeline nervously sucked on her candy as her new papa got out of the car.
“Silas, Isaac, Jacob! Get your asses out here!”
She jumped at the shout as he slammed the door closed.
“I told you he does that a lot. You’ll get used to it.”
Evangeline patted the bib pocket, wanting to call her other papa to come get her. The shouting
scared her. Before she could reach for her shiny phone, both back doors were opened and
unfamiliar faces bent down to look in the back seat.
“She’s a puny little thing, isn’t she?” the lanky teenager remarked critically, hunkering down to
unfasten the seatbelt on her car seat.
“You sure she’s a Coleman?”
She jerked her head to the other male teenager who was unfastening Leah’s. Both boys made her
feel as if there were something wrong with her.
She firmed her jaw. “I don’t like you.”
The teenager unbuckled the latches of the car seat so that he could take her out, then raised a
brow at her.
“Which one?”
Evangeline reached up, tugging the straps back over her shoulders. “You.” Then she pointed to
the other one. “And him.”
The boys laughed. Then the first boy slipped her out of the straps despite her tight-fisted grip,
and Evangeline was lifted into his arms.
“She’s a Coleman.” Winking, he gave her a friendly smile. “Don’t worry; we’ll fatten you up.”
“Silas, don’t scare her off before she gets inside the house.”
“I’m just teasing her, Pa.”
Evangeline inquisitively looked toward the two-story house that he was bringing her toward.
At the sound of Leah’s giggles, she glanced to the side to see the other teenager carrying her
while a smaller version of the boy carrying her was following them, holding the baby carrier.
As Silas went up the steps to the porch, her nose twitched at the aroma filling the air. It was
cookies. Her grandmother had made them at Christmas.
Evangeline almost choked on the candy in her mouth when she saw the large group of boys who
were waiting inside.
“Aw … she’s so cute.”
“What’s her name?”
“She’s awful skinny, Pa. Is she sick?”
“Hush! Let me introduce her before you start jabbering at her. Jody, take Ezra and change his
diaper. I’ve been smelling it for the last two miles.”
“It’s not my turn; it’s Moses’s.”
“I don’t care who changes it, just get it done before I puke up my left kidney.”
“I’ll do it,” Silas offered, placing her down on the floor before taking the baby carrier and leaving
the room.
“Line up, you heathens, and I’ll introduce you to your new sister.”
Amazed, Evangeline watched the children form a line in the huge living room. It had a big
fireplace that took up a whole wall. Two huge couches sat opposite each other with chairs between
them.
Her new papa went to the end of the line, placing a hand on the tallest boy at the end. “This here
is Matthew. Isaac will grow on you. Don’t pay no never mind to what he said outside.” He moved to
the third one and placed his hand on his head. “This is Jody.” Going down the line, he introduced her
to her new brothers one by one. “The handsome one that looks like me is Jacob.
“Moses broke his arm milking the goat. Don’t worry; we’ll wait until you’re older before we give
you that chore.” Turning, he took the baby from Silas, who had come back in the room as he was
finishing the introductions. “You’ve already met Silas, and stinky butt here is Ezra. Boys this is your
new sister, Ginny.”
She turned to look at Leah, who moved to her side. “They’re all your brothers?” she whispered.
“Now they’re all your brothers,” Leah whispered back, taking her hand.
Looking around the room she noticed someone was missing.
“Where’s the momma?”
“We all have different mothers,” Leah explained matter-of-factly. “Except for me and Ezra. “All
the boys live with Papa, me and Ezra live with my mama and stay here part of the week.”
“Oh…” It was kind of like her. She had two papas, but they had six different mamas. Did that
mean she now had six different mamas?
“Do you want a cookie?” Leah asked.
Nodding, she let herself be tugged through the wide doorway and into another room with a long
table with a long bench seat on each side and one chair at the end.
Climbing onto the bench, she reached for a cookie set out on a plate on the table. Leah took a
bite of her cookie before she did hers.
“Jody must have made these. He always burns them.” She dropped to her butt, tugging
Evangeline down on hers.
About to set it down on the table, Evangeline looked away from Leah to see that the boys had
moved to the other side of the table to watch her.
Embarrassed, not knowing what to do, she nervously started to take a bite. Before she could, the
cookie was taken out of her hand.
“Don’t eat that. I was about to throw them away when Pa yelled for us to come outside. You and
Leah want to help me make some more?”
“You’re the best, Silas. I’ll get the chocolate chips!” Leah screeched, jumping down from the
table to go to the room off to the side.
“Fix her something to eat before you make them cookies,” her new papa said, reaching for one of
the cookies on the plate.
“What do you like to eat, Ginny?”
 Feeling all their eyes on her, waiting for her answer, Ginny suddenly wanted to burst into tears.
She wanted to go back to Will’s. She was never going to remember all their names, and as much as
she wanted to hold the baby, she didn’t want to change his stinky diaper.
“Nothing. I’m not hungry,” she mumbled, crossing her arms on the table and laying her head
down. She didn’t want to cry in front of all her new brothers.
Silas sit down next to her on the bench. “I’m a pretty good cook. Do you like grilled cheese?”
“No,” she mumbled, beginning to cry.
“SpaghettiOs?”
“What’s that?” she mumbled, crying harder, bringing her fingers to her bib pocket under the
table.
“There has to be something you like.”
Evangeline could think of only one thing she wanted. “I like jelly sauce.”
“Jelly sauce?”
“Make her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” her new papa said. “All kids like peanut butter
and jelly sandwiches.”
“Is that what you want?” Silas asked softly.
“No.”
“What does it look like?”
“It’s red and in a can.”
“She’s talking about cranberry sauce!”
Evangeline looked up to see that it was Jody who had figured it out. Sniffing, she nodded.
“You want some cranberry sauce?”
She nodded again.
“Will that make you happy?”
Evangeline nodded.
“Then I’ll get you some. I think we have a can left over from Christmas.”
Straightening, she watched as Silas left the room, then came back with a familiar can in one
hand and a can opener in the other hand. Sitting back down next to her, he started opening the can.
“She’ll get sick if that’s all she’s going to eat,” Isaac said doubtfully.
Silas gave his brother a stern look before yelling out, “Leah, bring me a spoon!”
The little girl came running back into the room, carrying a spoon and a bag of chocolate chips,
then climbed onto the bench.
“Can I have some?” Leah asked as Silas slid the open can in front of Evangeline.
“Yes.” Taking the spoon that Leah handed to her, she waited until Leah came back with another
spoon before dipping her spoon into the red jelly. Opening her mouth, she ate the jelly with
everyone watching her.
“I like cranberry sauce,” Silas told her. “Except, I like to eat mine on a turkey sandwich.”
Her spoon paused halfway to her mouth. “I do, too.”
“We don’t have any turkey, but I can make you a ham sandwich. You want me to make you one?”
“Yes, please.”
“Can I have one?” Leah asked.
“I’ll make you one,” Silas agreed.
“Me, too,” Jody said, sitting down on the bench.
“And me!” Moses yelled out, settling down next to Jody.
Her new papa sat down on the lone chair at the end of the table. “Might as well bring the whole
pack of ham and the loaf of bread. Jacob, heat up that leftover potato casserole we had for dinner
last night. Let’s do Ginny’s first dinner with us up right. Then we’ll all make cookies. I’ll make a few
peanut butter ones just for us. How does that sound, Ginny?”
“Can Leah have one?”
“Daughter, there’s one thing you better know about me.” His face turned serious as he leaned
forward. “What I give one youngin’, I give them all.” Smiling, he slid the cranberry sauce toward
him to dump into a bowl that Silas had set down in front of him. “Well, except for Ezra, but as soon
as he has some teeth, we’ll share with him. The ham is a bit too chewy for him yet.” Her new papa
switched Ezra to his other thigh when the baby would have grabbed the bowl.
Looking around the table, Evangeline wished Trudy was there. She thought her sister would like
her new family. Trudy had promised her that she would, and she always kept her promises. If she
kept this one, she would keep the most important one. She would find Trudy, and they would be
together again. She just had to be brave until that day came. Today wasn’t that day, but getting
seven brothers, another sister, and being able to eat cherry jelly was okay.
Taking a bite of her sandwich, she had to admit the ham wasn’t bad. It wasn’t turkey, but it was
good.
 6
8 Y E A R S L AT E R
G I N N Y 1 2 / G AV I N 2 5

G avin raised up on his elbow to stare down at the woman he had just made love to, unable to
resist licking the drop of sweat that clung to her lower lip.
“I love you.” Resting his forearms on each side of her head, Gavin couldn’t believe the beautiful
woman belonged to him.
Taylor slipped her arms around his neck as she arched seductively under the heavy weight of his
body. “You better, or you just wasted your money buying me a ring.”
He reached for the wrist at his neck, lowering it to see the huge rock he had given her two hours
ago. “You like it?”
It wasn’t the ring that he had expected her to want, but when they had gone ring shopping,
Taylor’s eyes had been drawn like a magnet to the large diamond that was front and center in the
jeweler’s case.
“I love it almost as much as I love you.”
Pulling her hand to his lips, he kissed her hand before placing it back on his neck. “I’m the
luckiest man on earth.”
Gavin shuddered at the brush of her fingertips at the nape of his nape. “I take it back. I’m the
luckiest man in the universe.”
Her lips curled up in a satisfied smile. “Was it worth the wait?”
“I would wait another four months if that’s what it took to get you in my bed.” He groaned, his
dick already getting hard again as she circled her thighs around his hips so her pussy cradled his
burgeoning cock.
“I just wanted to make sure you knew where your head was.” She sultrily rubbed her breasts
across his chest, making him clench his teeth to keep his dick from delving back inside her pussy.
“It’s not like you didn’t have a club filled with women to take care of you.”
“I told you it didn’t matter how many women were in the club if none of them were you.”
“I believe you, but I wanted to make sure.”
“You sure now?” he asked, then anxiously waited for her answer.
“Sure enough that I agreed to marry you, didn’t I?”
“Let’s go get married tomorrow,” he growled out as he nuzzled the curve of her neck.
“I told you I want a big wedding.” Pulling her head away, her expression turned pleading. “Don’t
you want to see me walking down the aisle in a beautiful dress?”
“I would rather see my wedding ring on your finger tomorrow.”
Her gorgeous eyes darkened in hurt as Taylor slid out from underneath him to get to her feet. “If
you loved me, you’d understand how important a big wedding is to me.”
The disappointment on her face had him realizing that it was going to be another of those times
he was going to have to give in to her demands to make her happy.
Rising from the bed, he tugged her into his arms. “If it’s that important to you, then it’s
important to me. If a big wedding is really what you want, then you can have all the bells and
whistles.” Sitting down on the bed, Gavin pulled her down onto his lap.
His words didn’t lighten her mood. “Maybe you’re not ready to commit to me the way I want you
to. Are you worried The Last Riders will talk you out of marrying me?”
“That’s not the reason, babe. I promise the only reason I wanted to get married as soon as
possible is because I don’t want to take the chance that you’ll change your mind.”
Her thick lashes fell to cover the hurt in her eyes that had him thinking of ways to soothe her.
“Viper hates me, doesn’t he?”
“No, he doesn’t.” That was a lie. His brother didn’t like the woman he had chosen to spend the
rest of his life with, but so far, he had kept his opinions to himself, unlike his best friend who he was
just as close to as Viper. “I don’t know why you keep saying that. Viper doesn’t say shit about our
relationship.”
 “Only because he hopes you’ll get tired of me. If he had his way, you’d never see me again.”
Resting her head on his shoulder, she ran a caressing hand down his chest. “He hates me almost as
much as Rider does.”
Gavin stiffened as the woman he loved gave a small sob, burrowing closer into him as if seeking
sanctuary. “What makes you think Rider doesn’t like you?”
“It’s obvious to me; I don’t know how you haven’t caught it. He’s always rude to me when you’re
not around, but when you’re there, he couldn’t be nicer. The night I cooked that nice dinner for you
and you didn’t show up, didn’t you say that Rider was the reason?”
“He needed my help that night—”
“He’s always butting into our special nights. You need to open your eyes, Gavin, and realize that
Rider is trying to tear us apart.”
“We’re used to taking each other’s back when something comes up. I call him just as much when
I need something taken care of.”
She lifted glistening eyes to his. “In other words, when you need something, you’re always going
to turn to him instead of me?” Taylor tried to slip off his lap. “Maybe you should marry him.”
Gavin tightened his arms around her waist, holding her still. “Are you asking me to leave The
Last Riders?” He watched her expression intently, reading the conflicting emotions flashing across
her face.
“Would you?”
Gavin didn’t miss the wishful gleam in her eyes that she tried to hide behind lowered lashes.
“Are you asking?”
When he told Rider that he was thinking about asking Taylor to marry him, Rider had warned
him that Taylor would never be content with him staying in the club. He had blown Rider off, telling
him that Taylor knew from the get-go that he would never leave the club. Now she had him
reconsidering Rider’s words. Was Taylor right, and Rider was trying to break them up by implanting
the thought in his head?
Her eyes widened earnestly. “I would never ask you to leave the club. I know how much it means
to you.”
Relieved that he wouldn’t have to make the choice, his arms softened around her. The reprieve
was short-lived.
“I would never ask you to do something that would make you unhappy. You leaving the club has
to be your decision. What it comes down to is: Will we be able to make our marriage work if you
constantly put the club first? I’ll always put you first. I’m only asking for the same. Is that too much
to ask from a man who swears he loves me as much as you say you do?”
“No.” His arms went stiff while her body went limp against him.
She glided her lips over his chest, over his shoulder, to bite on his ear lobe as she tried to coax
him into leaving the club. “The Last Riders expect you to throw yourself in front of bullets to protect
them. Are they going to expect the same loyalty after we’re married?”
Taylor silkily slid her hand around his neck when he didn’t answer her question immediately. “Am
I ever going to come first with you, or am I constantly going to be taking a back seat to The Last
Riders?”
Gavin narrowed his eyes on hers as he splayed his thighs, letting Taylor fall to the carpeted floor
without lifting a hand to stop her descent. Her jaw dropped at his unexpected reaction.
He loved Taylor, but no woman was going cut his balls off and think he was going to run rings
around her just to keep her happy. His loyalty would always be with The Last Riders, despite how
much he cared for a woman.
He jerked her hands away from him, angry that she waited until he slid his ring on her finger, all
while the sheets were still warm from where they had fucked before voicing her concerns about
where his loyalties lay.
“You didn’t care that I was a Last Rider when you asked Jewell to bring you to one of the parties
and made sure she introduced me to you. My loyalty goes to who earns it. Not only is Viper my
brother, but he’s earned my loyalty, just like the other brothers have. If you think I’m not capable
enough to make sure that, as my wife, I would know when to put you first, then you should back out
of the engagement while there is still time and find another sucker who won’t mind you changing
your tune to get your way because, sorry about your luck, but I’m not that man.”
Any other time, Gavin would have laughed at Taylor’s gaping mouth.
So far, he had been easily malleable to most of her demands, shrewdly aware that she could be a
bitch when out of his sight. He had wanted to fuck her and was willing to play whatever game she
wanted to get in her bed. And while he had gradually fallen in love with her, it hadn’t made him
blind to the person she was underneath.
Taylor tended to be manipulative, possessive, and overdramatic. None of those qualities were
deal breakers for him, especially when coupled with the physical attraction he felt for her. Since
meeting Taylor, he could better understand Rider’s attraction to Delara, despite the warnings from
the other brothers and himself and the warning signs that had come true.
Gavin, on the other hand, wasn’t turning a blind eye to Taylor’s faults, just giving her the chance
to realize that she didn’t need to resort to mind games to control him. He hadn’t planned on a long
engagement, but now, discerning that she wasn’t cool with him remaining a Last Rider as she had
pretended, maybe it would be better to wait. He would end his relationship with Taylor before he
would ever walk away from the brothers. If it took a long engagement for her to figure that out,
then he was all for waiting. Better yet, she needed to figure that shit out before any wedding should
be planned.
Staring down at Taylor, his expression hardened at what she was attempting to do. Leaning
forward, he cupped her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his. “You should do both of us a favor and end
this now if you’re reconsidering your decision to marry me. I’ve always been straight with you about
the club. I can promise to be faithful and protect you with my life if we marry, but walking away
from the brothers isn’t an option. If you can deal with that, then you don’t have any reason to
question to my loyalty to you.” Dropping his hand from her chin, he turned his hand palm up in front
of her. “If not, you can give my ring back, and we can move on without any hard feelings.”
Consternation brought a red flush to her cheeks at his uncompromising attitude. He hadn’t
earned his rank in the military and in the club by being a pushover.
The Last Riders had entrusted him not only with their loyalty but their finances. He was
currently seeking to start a business that would ensure their future as well as help others. The
brothers may no longer be in the military, but they still wanted to make lives better for those in
need, which was why many had answered the call to serve.
Taylor gave a small laugh; it didn’t fool him that she was serious about trying to make him
choose sides between her and the club.
“I love you. I guess I’m just worried about coming in second place for you.”
“You could never come in second place with me. I love you.” His expression softened as he tried
to reassure her. “I wouldn’t be willing to commit to you unless I believed I could be the husband you
need me to be.”
Taylor raised herself onto her knees to twine her arms around his neck, ignoring his outstretched
hand. “Are you sure about that? I plan to be a very demanding wife.”
Lifting her back onto his lap, he wrapped his arms around her waist to press her tightly against
him. Feeling the satisfying pressure of her breasts fitting snuggly against his chest, his thoughts
turned from irritation to desire.
Falling back on the bed, he could only stare at the dazzling creature above him. Even with her
hair messed up and smudged makeup, Taylor had that quality that lured men to her. He hadn’t been
the only brother who wanted her in his bed, but he was the only one to succeed. “Now there’s the
woman I love. I was worried for a second that she was slipping away from me.”
Taylor rolled her eyes at him. “I can be a real witch sometimes. Sorry.”
The repentant grin had him gripping her hips to press her down suggestively on his dick. “Make
it up to me, and I’ll forgive you.”
She started sliding her hand between their bodies. “I can do that.”
His head reared back as Taylor grabbed his cock and started using her magic touch to make him
forget the misgivings he was having about asking her to marry him. He spread his thighs on the bed
as she started lowering herself to place her mouth over the erection that was aching to relive the
skillful caresses of the night before.
Tucking a strand of her tawny hair that was hiding his view behind her ear, he sucked in a shaky
breath when Taylor covered the head of his cock with her silky lips.
The sound of his cell phone had him gritting his teeth in frustration. Rising up onto his elbows,
Gavin started to reach for it at the same time Taylor clamped a hand on his wrist.
“Don’t.” Her eyes pleaded with him not to answer as she pushed at his shoulder to press back
down with her other hand.
“Babe, I have to answer.”
“Let it go just this once.” Grasping his wrist, she used all her strength to stop him as she
pleaded. He hadn’t known Taylor was capable of using the amount of strength she was exerting. It
was hot as fuck.
Gavin started to relax back onto the bed as she wiggled back downward toward his dick. Both his
cock and head wanted to give in to her demand when the phone stopped ringing, but his conscience
wouldn’t let him.
Prying his hand from hers with his other hand, Gavin reached for the phone. All the brothers
knew he was proposing to Taylor last night, so they wouldn’t interrupt unless it was important.
As he picked up the phone, an eerie feeling struck him not to redial the number that had just
called. Shrugging the feeling off, like the complaints that were coming from Taylor, he hit the
number.
As he listened to the voice on the other end, he started sliding his naked body out from under
Taylor to reach down for the clothes that had been strewn on the floor the night before.
“Be there in ten.” Disconnecting the call, he dropped his phone onto the bed as he started
tugging on his boots.
Taylor resentfully tossed her hair over her shoulder as she sat up on the bed. “Let me guess. It
was Rider, wasn’t it?”
“You guessed wrong.” Setting his booted foot on the floor, he twisted sideways to lay a hand on
the bed next to her hip. Standing, he placed his other hand on the other side of her hip. Letting his
mouth hover seductively over hers, he traced the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue before
answering. “It was Shade.”
Her forehead puckered in a frown. Taylor had been with him long enough to know that Shade
only called when it was an emergency. “What did he want?”
“Won’t know until I get there. Am I going to see you tonight at the club, or are you going to make
me pay for bailing on you now?”
When she turned her face to the side, he had his answer.
“Why should I?”
A firm hand turned her face back to his. “That’s cool if you don’t.”
Relenting under his impervious reaction to her refusal, she quickly sidestepped, shamelessly
backtracking when she saw that he wouldn’t be begging her to reconsider. “I’ll be there.”
Gavin pressed a hard kiss on her lips. “Now that’s the woman I fell in love with.” He brought his
hand to the still damp pussy that had him almost blowing off Shade’s request to meet him. “I’ll
make this up to you tonight.”
“You better.”
Removing his hand, he stood. “Ask any of the brothers; I always keep my promises.”
Taking his bike keys off the nightstand, he turned toward the bedroom door, his thoughts already
switching to what Shade needed to discuss with him.
“Gavin ….”
He gave her a cocky grin from over his shoulder. “What?”
“Never mind.” She shook her head at him. “It’s not important. I’ll see you tonight.”
“You sure?”
“Would you stay if I begged you to?”
Gavin turned from the door to face her. “Where in the fuck is this coming from?”
“It’s a legitimate question. Are you always going to leave my bed every time one of The Last
Riders calls?”
“Depends on who’s calling and why,” he answered honestly.
“I wouldn’t leave a bed you’re in no matter the reason.” Instead of giving him the angry glare he
was expecting, she shimmied her butt off the bed to sensuously walk toward him. “I guess I’m going
to have to work harder at getting you to stay.”
The sultry perfume she was wearing teased his nostrils as she grew nearer.
He gripped her upper arms to pull her into his body. If Taylor wanted to take it as a challenge to
keep him in bed, then he wasn’t about to be stupid enough to contradict her. As he gave her a quick
kiss that was hard for him to end, he wanted to be sucked back into the whirlpool of desire that
Taylor was an expert at tempting him with and carry her to the bed to start over where they left off.
If it had been any other brother, he would skip the meeting, but he needed Shade’s help if he was
ever going to convince Viper to expand the business.
“Text me before you’re ready to leave for the club; we can meet up somewhere for dinner.” At
that, Gavin regretfully released her from his arms.
“I’m in the mood for Italian.”
“Whatever you want,” he agreed.
Taylor brushed her naked breasts against his chest as she opened the bedroom door for him.
“You sure you don’t want to change your mind?” she teased.
“Babe, I regret every fucking time I leave you.”
She leaned back against the open door as she brought her hands to his belt. “The best way for
you to stop feeling that way is easy. Just don’t leave.”
“Nothing about you is ever easy; that’s why I fell in love with you.”
“Are you trying to sweet-talk me so you can get back in my bed tonight?”
Grinning, he gave her another hard kiss. “Is it working?”
“You’ll have to wait until tonight to find out.”
“I guess we will.” He pulled away from her. “Bye, babe.”
He regretfully forced himself through the door. He had planned to spend the whole day with her
so that he could break it to her that he was going out of town next week. Now he would have to wait
until tomorrow to tell her, since she was already angry with him. If he told her tonight, she would
not only give his ring back, Taylor would shove it down his throat.
Letting himself out her front door, he made sure to lock the door behind him. Taylor lived in an
upscale neighborhood where there was little to no crime, but there was no need to tempt fate. While
he was out of town, he would ask one of the brothers to keep an eye on her. He had hoped to
convince her to get married in the next few days and use the opportunity of his time off from the
daily grind at the factory as their honeymoon.
He had to scout out several locations and thought the road trip would be a perfect honeymoon.
Now he could see his half-baked idea would have met failure from the get-go.
Maybe he should ask Rider if he was up for a road trip? As soon as that idea came to his mind, he
squashed it. He didn’t want to spend the next few weeks reassuring Taylor that Rider wasn’t
secretly trying to break them up. He would miss having Rider as his sidearm, but Gavin would
rather come back to a happy fiancé versus one who questioned every move he made while gone. Or
one who would break up with him before he could get the car packed for the trip.
Starting his bike, he knew both Rider and his bike would be left behind. Not having Rider was
going to suck, but not having his bike was going to be just as bad.
The trip was starting to be more than he bargained for when he had come up with the idea.
Fortunately, he wouldn’t be gone long, and he and Taylor wouldn’t be apart again afterward. They
would spend the rest of their lives together.
 CHAPTER SEVEN

G avin cursed as he parked his bike, then glanced down at his watch. He had spent too long
placating Taylor.
Getting off his bike, he nodded to several brothers hanging outside the clubhouse. The building
had once been a broken-down tavern that he and Rider had managed to buy off the owner, who’d
been more than ready to head to a warmer climate. He practically had to drag Rider inside when
they pulled up, and after they had gone through the guest rooms and the bathrooms, he literally had
to pull him back off his motorcycle before he could talk him into the bar area. Built in the 1870s
here in Ohio, it had been passed down from son to son, and the only things changed were the tap
heads on the kegs.
He bought the tavern while Rider drank the beer the owner handed him. Gavin laughed to
himself at the memory. Rider hadn’t stopped crying until the renovations were finished. He still
thought half the tears were to get out of most of the work and the other half were for the money he
had coughed up to make The Last Riders clubhouse a reality.
Striding toward the door, Moon held it open as he approached. Grinning, Gavin gave him a pat on
the shoulder before going inside.
Glancing around the large room, he then made his way past the long bar to the table at the end.
Gavin’s smile didn’t slip at Shade’s expression. He hated to be kept waiting, and Gavin knew the
stone-cold brother wouldn’t count him trying to keep Taylor happy as a reason to keep him cooling
his heels until he could get there.
Gavin didn’t think he would live long enough to see that mean fucker fall in love. If Shade had an
ounce of emotion in him, he had yet to see it. They had become friends in the service, if it could be
called friendship. Friendship was a two-way street. While he called Shade a friend, Gavin didn’t
think Shade felt the same way soul deep. He didn’t think Shade felt anything for anyone. Hell, the
brother could fuck like there was no tomorrow and still leave more than one woman begging for
more.
His grin widened when he saw who was sitting with Shade, obscured by the corner of the bar. As
the man rose to his feet with a returning smile, Gavin held his hand out when he got close enough.
“Will! Shade didn’t tell me you were in town!”
“Got in last night.” Shade’s father shook his hand with twinkling eyes. “I would have called and
told you to get your ass here, but Shade told me that you were busy proposing to that pretty gal you
introduced me to the last time I was in town.”
“I would have waited if I had known I could have missed out seeing you,” Gavin teased, dropping
Will’s hand to give Shade’s father a bear hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you, old man.”
Will hugged him back before loosening his hold to stare at him critically. “She must have said
yes. You look too happy for a man who’s been told no.”
“Unless he’s relieved she said no,” Shade broke in before taking a drink of his beer.
“Ignore him, Gavin,” Will said, sitting back down. “My son doesn’t have a romantic bone in his
body.”
Gavin took a seat across the table from the two men. “The whole club is aware of that fact, sir,”
he joked, turning to give the woman behind the bar a carefree wink. “Isn’t that right, Jewell?”
“Bliss and I were just talking about that a couple of minutes ago, when he was going to call you
back to see what was taking you so long.”
Gavin turned back to Shade. “Sorry about that, but I’m here now. Have you told your dad the
good news?”
Shade arched a sardonic brow at him. “That you want us to put the last of the club money into
buying a new property, or that you’re wanting me to give a loan to build a new factory when you do?
Yes, I told him.”
Will gave his son a censoring look. “I think it’s a great idea.” He turned his attention to him.
“Where are you thinking about looking for property?”
Gavin didn’t let Shade put a damper on his excitement. “Jewell, you mind handing me the folder I
left behind the counter and a cup of coffee?”
As he waited for Jewell to get the coffee, he asked about Will’s wife, Shade’s stepmother.
“Rachel is keeping busy. She should be coming … Ahh … Here she is now. I promised her a
shopping trip. You mind if she joins us until we’re finished?”
“Not at all,” Gavin said, standing up to hug the smiling woman as she reached the table.
“Gavin, you get better looking every time I come to town.”
“Be careful. You’ll make Will jealous. I wouldn’t haven’t asked Taylor to marry me if I thought I
had a chance of talking you into divorcing him.”
Rachel patted him on the cheek. “You couldn’t handle me. I’m in the prime of my life. You’re just
getting started.”
Gavin laughed, putting his hand over his heart. “You always shoot me down. One day I’m going to
get you to reconsider and give Will something to worry about.”
As they sat down, Jewell set the coffee cup and folder in front of him before reaching down to
place an arm over Rachel’s shoulder to give her a side-hug.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Since my husband is drinking a beer, I’ll take a cup of coffee. I don’t want him to get pulled over
and have to explain why a sheriff has alcohol on his breath.”
Gavin winked at her. “Bring her a beer, Jewell. I’ll be happy to drive you around this morning. It’ll
give me a chance to spend the day with you before you leave.”
Rachel scooted her chair forward. “Hear that, Shade? Someone who actually wants to spend time
with us.” She gave an appreciative smile as Jewell slid a mug of beer in front of her.
“I spent the last two days taking you shopping. If Gavin wants to volunteer, he can go for it. Dad
and I can stay here and catch up.”
“You mean, stay here and play poker?” She rolled her eyes at the deck of cards sitting in the
middle of the table. “By the time I get back, no one in the club will have a dime to their name.”
Shade leaned forward, taking the cards to shuffle them. “I’ll need every dime I can get if Gavin
manages to convince me to give him the loan he’s trying to talk me into.”
It was Gavin’s turn to roll his eyes at Shade. “You could loan the club enough to build three
factories and still have enough for a happy meal.”
Shade cut the cards. “Why do we need two factories? We could just sell the one we’re using now
and buy one larger.”
“We could do that, but I want to expand the business. One would be primarily used for
production, and the other would be for distribution.”
“Makes sense to me, son.” Will leaned back in his chair to place his arm across the back of
Rachel’s chair.
“It makes sense to you because it’s not your money.” Shade lined six cards down on the table
facedown.
“We can find a small town that needs economic growth and give those who live there new
opportunities to make a decent living. Give them jobs to make a future for themselves and actually
build for a retirement so they won’t have to worry about not having enough money to live on.”
“Sounds like Treepoint,” Rachel said unhappily. “They desperately need jobs there.”
“Treepoint?” Gavin opened the folder he had been using to put together possible locations.
“Where you and Will live? In Kentucky?”
“Yes. It’s a small town. It only has a few businesses still open. Most of the younger people have
left town. Will and I have grown to love living there.”
Gavin took a sip of his lukewarm coffee, remembering exactly why Shade’s father and
stepmother had gone to Treepoint in the first place. “How is the little girl you went to check on
doing?”
Curiously, Gavin noticed Will’s startled expression at the question.
“Beth or Lily?” Rachel asked warmly. “They’ve been doing fine since Will’s been sheriff. Thank
God that Cash asked Will to check on them after he retired—”
“Rachel …,” Will warned.
Rachel angrily snapped her mouth closed then shrugged. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said
anything. It’s just that man sickened me.”
“Cash told me that he was surprised you didn’t decide to move on from Treepoint after their
parents died.”
Rachel’s eyes grew misty. “I’ve gotten attached to the town and the townspeople, but I’ve always
dreamed of having that RV that Will keeps promising me and traveling.” Giving her husband a
loving glance, she placed her hand over his on the table. “He’s just not ready to give up being
sheriff yet. It’ll probably break a few hearts if he did.”
Gavin found it strange the way Will started focusing on the cards Shade was playing with,
avoiding his wife’s gaze. Attributing it to Will’s reluctance to leave Treepoint, Gavin had the feeling
that Will wasn’t as anxious to hit the open road as Rachel was.
“Several women in town are always stopping by at the office to drop off pies or cakes. I swear,
since he became sheriff, he’s gained fifteen pounds. The children in town know he’s putty in their
hands. One in particular has to sit with him every Sunday in church, and he takes her out for lunch
afterward.”
“Where are the places you’re thinking about?” Will nodded at the folder. “And I thought you
wanted to spend your last day here shopping, not holed up here at the club discussing Treepoint.”
Gavin wondered at the abrupt change in subject. Something in his attitude had him thinking that
Will didn’t want to discuss the girl who Rachel mentioned. He noticed Shade caught onto it as well.
His fingers having paused over the cards heightened the instincts that had kept him alive in the
military.
Taking out two papers, Gavin laid them on the table. Touching one with his fingertip, he
explained his interest. “This one is in a small town in Florida. The space isn’t overly large, yet it has
enough square footage that can be separated into different areas. It has a loading dock and is easily
accessible to the interstate, an airport, and shipping facilities nearby. The only real problem I see
with it is that there is no nearby property we could use as a clubhouse.”
Moving his hand, Gavin laid the other one on top. “This space in Texas has already been
equipped as a factory, also has the loading docks we need. The interstate, airport, and shipping
facilities are just as accessible. There is a property nearby where we could build a clubhouse. The
only problem with this one is the available footage in the property is smaller than I wanted, and it’s
connected to another business where we would have to share the loading dock.”
Gavin moved his hand when Will reached out to take the papers. Holding both papers in his
hand, he studied them with Rachel.
“I plan to go to Texas this week to look over the property there and spend a few days in the town
before going to Florida to do the same.”
He waited for Shade’s reaction, then grew disappointed when he didn’t make a move to pick the
papers up when Will laid them back down on the table.
“Seems like a waste of time to scout out new properties that have drawbacks.” Shade turned one
of cards faceup. “I’d rank those properties a five.” Tossing the card onto the papers, Shade lifted his
steely gaze to his as he turned another card over. “You want a loan, you better be searching for one
that will get that from me.”
Glancing down at the ten card, he knew he had his work cut out for him.
“The people there have a high unemployment rate and—”
“Are you sure that Rider being from Texas and you being from Florida didn’t influence your
search?”
The word that Gavin wanted to use wouldn’t be possible in front of Rachel so, biting it back, he
forced himself to admit the truth. “I have to admit I would like to be close to the water again, and
Rider misses Texas.”
“You’d have better luck getting money from me to buy a plane ticket to go home for a visit. I’m
not personally investing thousands of dollars because you two are homesick.”
Picking the papers up to put them back in the folder, Gavin knew it would be useless to try to
change Shade’s mind. He would have to start his search again. Looking on the bright side, he
wouldn’t have to leave Taylor so soon after becoming engaged.
“I have a suggestion.” Rachel eagerly sat forward. “You already planned on going to Florida and
Texas; why not come to Treepoint and look it over? There are several empty places that I bet you
could get cheap and build however you want.”
“I’ve been there. The brothers would line up to leave the club if any of them had to work there,”
Shade said as he skillfully shuffled the deck back together.
“Don’t listen to him, Gavin. You’ll fall in love with the town once you’re there.”
Rachel’s appeal had him hating to be the bad guy and tell her the numerous reasons it wouldn’t
work. Only one thing kept him from turning her down. There might a dozen reasons why it wasn’t
feasible in the long run, but he could take advantage of an opportunity to visit a friend.
“How long is the drive?”
Gavin felt Shade’s rapier-blue eyes giving a silent warning. He knew Shade was cautioning him
about Rachel. The brother wasn’t taking any chances that he would unintentionally mention he
knew someone else who lived in Treepoint.
“When I drive, about five hours. When Will does, about three and a half,” she teased her
husband. “You could probably build two factories for the same price as paying for one where you’ve
been looking. The money you’d save would allow you to hire more workers. Not only that, you may
be able to find a larger clubhouse.”
The last one piqued his interest. They needed a larger clubhouse. The brothers were complaining
about not having enough space. Many of them had gone in together to try to rent apartments they
could share. So far, they hadn’t been successful. Gavin couldn’t blame them; some of the brothers
could get rowdy, and if he owned an apartment, he didn’t know if he would rent to some of the men
based on the way they looked. Knox was having the biggest problem. The large, barrel-chested
brother was intimidating enough without deliberately shaving his head and flashing a tongue ring
every time he talked.
All the brothers had served in the military at one time or another. Their roughened appearances
had been earned the hard way, by never knowing if they would live to see another day. A few of
them were still being requested for specialized missions.
 Shade was able to write his own ticket, performing assignments he wanted and telling them to
fuck off when he didn’t. Lucky had left the service and stepped into a law enforcement role, while
Train, Rider, and he were recruited to join a team that were tasked to perform high-risk missions.
Train could fly anything with a motor, Rider was a strategic mastermind who could figure out an
opponent’s objective in a split second, and in the next, devise a way to stop them. He had been
trained to be Rider’s support, but Gavin was the first to admit that he didn’t have Rider’s gift on
land. Water was his domain.
He felt more at home in the water, able to look at a body of water and understand the mysterious
depths like most people could read a map. He could swim through caverns that many considered
unpassable and had the ability to swim long distances, then adapt to running extended distances,
then repeating the distances over and over. He might not have Rider’s razor-sharp mind, but he
couldn’t be beat on stamina. The only other person who had same ability was Shade. Gavin had
bragged several times that Shade might be able to run him to exhaustion on land, but in the water,
he would eventually haul Shade’s ass back to shore.
Gavin laughed to himself, thinking Shade would let himself drown before letting him outdo him.
One of the rooms at the club had been turned into a makeshift gym that Rider, Shade, and he had
gone into together to buy the equipment, despite the other brothers complaining they wanted the
room to live in. He had put his foot down, though he would have given in to their demands and
found somewhere else to work out, but he wasn’t going to take the chance that Rider and Shade
didn’t get what they needed to keep their bodies in shape. Belonging to their elite unit, keeping
their bodies in shape was as important as keeping their equipment in working order to leave at a
moment’s notice. While Shade didn’t work with the same unit, he had to be at the ready for those
assignments he did accept.
Putting the papers back in the folder, he knew the next week was going to be spent finding other
properties that Shade would agree with. The drive to Treepoint wouldn’t take that long, so he could
be back the next day. It would make Rachel happy, and he would be able to see his friend.
“You win. I’ll ride up there and look around,” he agreed. “Just don’t get your hopes up. I don’t
see Treepoint being a viable location that’ll work.”
Rachel’s cheerful expression didn’t change. “I’m not worried. You’re going to fall in love with
Treepoint.”
 CHAPTER EIGHT

I t was anything but love.

Gavin tiredly parked his bike before going into the clubhouse. He had spent two days in
Treepoint, and there wasn’t one property that would suit The Last Riders’ needs. The only one that
came close was an old inn that would need extensive repairs to redesign as a clubhouse. The factory
he dreamed about would have to be built from the ground up.
Going inside, Gavin looked around the club, not seeing who he was looking for. He was about to
call Viper to find out where he was when a woman threw herself into his arms.
“You’re back!”
Wrapping his arms around Natasha, Gavin returned the hug. “The brothers been treating you
right since I’ve been gone?”
“You know they treat me good whether you’re around or not,” she teased. “They’re too afraid
you’ll kick them out of the club if they don’t.”
“That’s good. I’m too tired to kick anyone’s ass right now.” Letting her go, he took another
glance around the club. “Have you seen Viper?”
“He’s out back in the office.”
“Thanks.”
Natasha gave him a quick hug before he could step away. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Believe me, I am too.”
Walking away when she released him, Gavin made his way out back. Giving a brief knock, Gavin
waited until he heard his brother tell him to come inside.
Viper turned in his chair as he stepped into the room. “How was the trip?”
Gavin closed the door before answering his brother’s question. “A complete waste of time, other
than being able to see Lucky.”
“He told me. Said he didn’t think you were impressed with the town,” Viper said, placing his cell
phone down on his desk.
“The town, I liked, just not as another location for the factory.”
When his brother swiveled in his chair, Gavin knew Viper was going to tell him something he
wasn’t going to like. His brother never met his eyes when he was going to use his authority as the
president of The Last Riders over him.
“Why wouldn’t it work?”
Gavin took a seat in the chair by Viper’s desk. “The nearest interstate is an hour and a half away,
the airport is three, and it’s an eight-hour drive to the nearest ocean.”
“You didn’t like any of the properties the realtor showed you?”
“No. The only one that came close is an old inn. It has a decent amount of property for sale, but I
don’t want to get started on another renovation when we just finished this one. The brothers would
rather go back in the service before living in Treepoint, and I can’t blame them.”
“Did you talk to Lucky about how his investigation is going?”
“You know I did. Save us some time, Viper; Taylor is waiting for me.”
“The drug trafficking there is worse than Will knew. Lucky found out there’s a well-oiled pipeline
going right through Treepoint.”
“We already knew that. That’s why Lucky is there, undercover as a pastor.”
“There are several large shipments in the works that the ATF are planning to let slip through the
cracks so their agents can track those involved.”
“Then Lucky better get busy. From what he said, he was having trouble getting the townspeople
to open up. It’s expected that most people wouldn’t want to discuss their drug use with their pastor.
Lucky knew when he went undercover that it wasn’t going to be accomplished overnight.”
“He was just hoping to make more headway than he has. How was he when you saw him?”
“He misses the brothers. The few hours I spent with him, he seemed fine.”
“He seemed fine when I talked to him, as well.”
“But you don’t believe he is?”
 “No. Will told me that Lucky went to visit a sick parishioner whose husband was refusing to take
her to the hospital because he thought God was going to heal her. The husband called Will on him
because Lucky refused to leave. Will had to drag him out of there. Will was able to smooth it over
and convince the husband not to press charges. If he makes another mistake like that, it’ll
jeopardize his investigation and all his hard work will go down the drain.” Worry furrowed Viper’s
brow.
Viper became president of The Last Riders because each of them felt he had their backs as well
as being able to handle the responsibility of the club as a whole. The same blood ran through his
and Viper’s veins, but when the men joined the club, they all became family to him. There wasn’t a
man among them who Viper wouldn’t lay his life down for.
“What are you thinking?” Gavin interrupted the silence in the room.
“If none of the townspeople are willing to talk to Lucky, we could give them someone they might
feel more comfortable talking to.”
Gavin felt in his gut where this conversation was going.
“You’re joking, right?”
“No.”
“Are you talking about sending another Last Rider to go undercover, or are we talking about the
factory? Because, if you want to send Lucky some help, I’m all for it, but to invest that kind of
money into a factory that can’t recoup our stake isn’t going to be something I can be onboard with.”
“This is a small town that will be wary of anyone coming to town, asking questions. They might
not feel the need to unburden their souls about the drugs in town, but they’ll be a hell of a lot less
suspicious of someone spreading their cash around town.”
“Except it’ll be our money!” Gavin argued.
Viper’s face firmed. “You said you wanted to make a difference in the town you picked. You can
make a difference in Treepoint. We both know it. You’re not the only one who knows how to do
research. The last time someone tried to start a business in Treepoint, the investor promised dozens
of jobs. The town put the last of its resources to get that factory started when the coal mines shut
down. Several people lost their life savings while the investor is now living it up in the Bahamas. If
anyone needs a break, it’s Treepoint.”
“Fuck.” Gavin ran his hand through his hair. He had refrained from researching Treepoint
because he knew himself well enough to know he had a soft spot for those who were trying to get
ahead and then had the rug pulled out from under them.
“Let’s think of this logically,” Gavin started, trying to convince Viper away from the direction he
was heading, despite his own changing opinion. “Number one, the brothers will hate it there, and
number two, and most important thing, is we’ll never be able to convince Shade.”
“You don’t think so?”
“I know so. He shut me down on locations that were better suited than Treepoint.”
Viper grimaced. “You’re right.”
Gavin tried to hold back the words that would seal The Last Riders’ fates, as well as their wallets,
but he couldn’t. “Shade would give the go-ahead if he thought Lucky needed The Last Riders to help
him deal with his PTSD.”
“That must have hurt.” Viper’s mouth curled upward in a crooked smile. “I know you don’t want
Treepoint either.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, I think his PTSD is getting to him. He also filled me in on the
pipeline. He thinks it’s much larger than the DEA thought. If that’s true, I don’t want him there on
his own.”
“Me neither,” Viper agreed, looking thoughtful. “Talk to Shade, get his go-ahead, then email me
the property you saw.”
“How do you plan to convince the brothers?”
“I won’t have to.” Viper hooked one thigh over the other. “Most of the brothers can stay here.
We’ll outfit the factory in Treepoint for manufacturing and leave distribution here. We can pick a
few brothers to set it up and, once Lucky’s investigation is over, they can come back to Ohio after
everyone is trained. The inn can be used for buyers who are interested in seeing the manufacturing
process.”
Dropping his thigh, he turned back to his desk. “You use mom’s maiden name when you were in
Treepoint?”
“Yes. It’s easier to get a lower price on the property if they think we’re a start-up instead of
looking to expand.”
“Sounds good.”
Gavin rose to his feet. “Except one thing, how about Rider? A large chunk of the money will be
coming from him.”
“We both know all you have to do is ask.”
“I don’t use our friendship where money is concerned. That’s how we stay friends.”
“You would stay friends even if he turns everything he owns to you.”
“Viper ….”
His brother sighed. “Then work up the figures, and I’ll talk to him. He can make his decision
based on the numbers you put together. You think The Last Riders will make money building
another factory?”
“Yes.”
“There you go. Problem solved.”
Gavin nodded. Viper might have taken the pressure off him with Rider, but it still remained that
all the brothers were putting their futures in his hands and he couldn’t do it unless he was there to
make sure they didn’t regret placing that trust in him.
“I want to be the one who gets the factory started.”
Viper turned back to him. “That’s going to take at least a year. I don’t want you gone that long.”
“I can’t let the brothers lose that money. I’ll stay until I have the factory on its feet and the
workers trained.”
Viper narrowed his eyes on him. “No.”
“I’m not a fucking kid anymore. I don’t need you telling me if I can or can’t do something.”
“Maybe not as a brother, but as President of The Last Riders, I can. You’re the one who talked me
into being the president. You’re not going to listen to orders from me when every brother in this
club knows the repercussions for disobeying me?”
“You wouldn’t have a problem doing it if we chose Florida or Texas.” Gavin forced himself to
keep his tone even. He was too old to get in yelling matches with his brother. “Which one do you
think I can’t handle—building the factory or helping Lucky?”
Viper didn’t have the same hesitation at raising his voice. “I didn’t say you couldn’t handle it, just
that I need you here. What the fuck, Gavin? You didn’t even want to pick Treepoint, and now you’re
busting my ass because I’m not making you go?”
“I don’t need you watching over my shoulder all the fucking time, Viper.”
“Jesus, have you even thought of how Taylor would react to living in Treepoint? I haven’t been
there but, from the pictures I’ve seen, I don’t see her wanting to live there for the next year.”
“She will.”
“You sure about that, brother? You’re expecting a lot from a woman you just asked to marry you.”
Gavin might not be confident that Taylor would want to move to Treepoint, but he was confident
that she wouldn’t want him to spend the year away from her. She had texted him dozens of times
since he’d been gone, and that was just two days.
“She will.”
“Brother, you’re heading for a fall. I’m telling you, she won’t.”
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
Viper turned back to his desk, his anger palpable in the room. “Yes, we will.”
Gavin jerked the door open, went outside, then slammed it behind him.
His brother had to learn that he was capable of holding his own without having him constantly in
his crosshairs. Even when they were in the service, Viper remained active until he decided to leave.
That he remained with the unit when he was needed was another bone of contention with them. And
the older Viper got, the more overprotective he became. He trusted his judgment where the club
money was concerned, but not his safety. He also didn’t extend the same understanding that Gavin
didn’t need his constant advice where his personal life was concerned.
Whether Viper liked it or not, Gavin was determined to be the one to go to Treepoint. He would
get the factory built and help Lucky discover exactly how the drugs were moving through the tiny
town. When he was done, Viper would realize his little brother was able to hold his own without any
help from him.
I’m fucking going to do it, Gavin swore mentally to himself. Even if it kills me.
 CHAPTER NINE

“T here’s no way I’m going to a hick town where I can’t find a job.” Taylor shoved him off her
naked body when he was finally able to get his breath back after the marathon sex they had
just finished and tell her they would be opening the factory in Kentucky.
“We don’t know that.”
“It took me six months to find the job I have now. Does Treepoint even have a hospital?”
Gavin raised up on his elbows, watching as she angrily wrapped a silky housecoat around her.
“I’m sure they do.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not going.”
“If we moved to Florida or Texas, you would have to leave your job.”
“I’m willing to leave it for a bigger hospital; I’m not going to take a step back on my career,
Gavin. I won’t do it.”
“As a pharmacist, you can find a job anywhere. It only took you six months after you graduated
because you were being too picky.”
“That’s right, I was, and I’m not going to apologize for it. I have thousands of dollars in student
loans to pay off, and until I do, the only thing that will get me to leave is if you pay them off.”
“I don’t have that kind of money. I sunk the last of my money into the factory. I told you, once I
can, I will.”
“Until then, I’m staying put.” Taylor went to her nightstand and picked up a hairband to pull her
hair back. “Do you even want to marry me?”
He felt guilty when he saw her quivering bottom lip as she sat down on the side of the bed.
Rising, he scooted across the bed to hold her. “You know I do.”
“Then why are you putting up this roadblock?”
“How’s it a roadblock? We can get married anytime you want.”
“How can we get married if we can’t agree where to live? I was willing to marry you when you
said we could end up in Florida or Texas. Why can’t you give an inch for me when I say I won’t move
to Kentucky?”
Gavin wanted Taylor to say she would be willing to go wherever he wanted. That she wouldn’t, he
couldn’t blame her. He was asking her to pick up her life to move to a place that was nowhere on
the horizon when he asked her to marry him.
“When were you thinking about setting the date for the wedding?”
“I was planning on talking to you about it tonight; now you’ve spoiled it.”
“I’m sorry.” Gavin curved his hand around her neck. “Babe, forget about Treepoint and the
factory. When do you want to get married?”
She laid her head on his shoulder, letting her hand fall to his thigh. “Eight or nine months from
now.”
“A big wedding takes that long to plan?”
“Usually longer.”
“If we make it year, you could have the wedding as big as you want, and I should be able to finish
up the factory in Treepoint by then. One of the other brothers can take over the training.”
“But that means we’d be separated for a whole year!”
“You could find us a house. This apartment isn’t big enough for the both of us. I could drive back
Friday night and go back Monday morning. We don’t see much of each other during the week
anyway.”
“I wasn’t planning on doing this wedding by myself. Half the fun of getting married is picking the
cake and food out, as well as all the other stuff.”
Gavin felt her tense body relax against his. “You make the appointments, and I’ll be there, even if
I have to walk,” he promised.
“You say that now, but when the time comes, you’ll cancel on me, and then I’ll have to take Jana
with me.”
“Jana hates me. She talks you into shit I hate just to get back at me. If I swear I’ll be here, I’ll be
here.”
Taylor laughed, turning in his arms and swinging her leg over to straddle him. “You stand me up
for one appointment, just one, and I’ll cut your dick off.”
“That’s a little drastic for missing a cake appointment, don’t you think?” he teased.
Taylor pushed him back on the bed, sliding her pussy over his dick and letting the wet folds rub
against him. Rotating her hips, Taylor wiggled until his dick was sliding slickly into her pussy. Using
his back and the heels of his feet, he moved them to the middle of the bed as Taylor started fucking
him.
“Aren’t you going to miss this if you go to Treepoint?”
“God, yes.” Groaning, he arched his hips to fuck her back.
“Then don’t go.” She lifted a hand to her nipple and began playing with it as she moved
seductively on him.
“You’ll be so busy you won’t even miss me.”
“At least none of the women will be going with you.” Leaning forward, she licked his nipple
before sucking it into her mouth.
“No. None of them will be going.”
“At least that’s a silver lining. None of the women in that hick town will be able to give you what I
do.”
Taylor might have kept him waiting to bed her, but she had damn sure made it worth the cold
showers he had taken. When he realized he was falling in love with her, he had turned other women
away from his bed.
Taylor had come to several of The Last Riders’ parties, but Gavin wasn’t interested until she
watched him fuck Jewell in the clubroom. The club parties were a free-for-all where sex was
concerned, and the women got off being watched as much as the brothers did.
Gavin still remembered the night when he and the brothers were drunk off their asses and made
up rules that everyone had to agree on to join the fun. Taylor hadn’t participated, but she wasn’t
shocked either when she found out the rules.
Gavin wasn’t stupid; he knew the confident woman was biding her time to make her choice. She
wasn’t a woman who was willing to share or be shared. No, the man she chose to fuck would want
what she could bring to the table—without feeling like he was missing out on the smorgasbord of
available pussy, ready and eager to give him anything he wanted.
Taylor brought a lot to the table. She was sexy as fuck, could give a blowjob like no one’s
business, and she didn’t have a shy bone in her body. She might not have let any of the other
brothers fuck her, but she didn’t mind them watching. She earned her votes by allowing the men to
watch her touch herself to make herself come.
When he had been fucking Jewell, Taylor had unashamedly hiked her short skirt to her hips and
slipped her hand to her bare pussy. There wasn’t a brother in the club who hadn’t stopped what he
was doing to watch her fingers delve into her cunt and get herself off. He was still fucking Jewell
when she removed her hand and walked around the table to press her wet fingers to his lips. He
had sucked them clean as he came inside Jewell. That was the last time he touched one of the
women in the club, pursuing Taylor until they started dating. It had taken him even longer to get in
her bed. He wouldn’t jeopardize the right to lay by her side.
Rider had warned him that he was jumping the gun by asking Taylor to marry him, saying that he
always dove in the deep end when he wanted a woman. It led to an argument and then they had
gone several days without talking before Rider reached out and broke the strained silence,
apologizing and promising to keep his opinions to himself from now on. Gavin had regretted the
argument just as much, since Rider was only stating his concerns. It was Gavin’s own reflective
doubts that had made the argument worse than it should have been.
Taylor dragging her nails down his chest brought him back to the present. Her eyes went heavy-
lidded, and Gavin knew she was about to come. Holding her hips, he turned them until she was on
her back, then started thrusting inside her as high as he could go.
“Fuck me, Reaper!”
He stopped his hips mid-stroke, that Taylor had to get a sexual rush using the nickname he
earned in the military always gave him a pause when he fucked her. Did she need to have the
fantasy for her to climax? Would she still want him when he was old and grey and could no longer
reflect the image she had of him?
“Why are you slowing down?” Taylor turned her head to the side and bit his forearm.
“You’re a vicious thing when you want my dick.” He brought his mouth to her shoulder and
returned the bite, careful not to mark her skin as he resumed his thrusts.
Driving into her forcefully, he jerked her arms over her head as his lovemaking turned rough the
way she wanted it. He let her struggle before allowing her hands free, then regretted it a second
later when she raked her nails down his back.
“Next time, don’t slow down when I’m coming!” she hissed.
“A man needs a suit of armor to fuck you.” Gritting his teeth, he sank down on her body, letting
her have his full weight.
Taylor didn’t laugh at his joke, spearing him with her nails again.
 Knowing that the only way to get her claws out of his back was to give her what she wanted, he
thrusted faster to send her over the edge.
Taylor wrapped her legs around his hips as they furiously fucked each other into oblivion.
When she finally let her thighs slip to the side, Gavin got up from the bed to remove the condom
and see what damage she’d done to his back. Looking at the reflection in her mirror, he then went
back to the bed.
“Next time, you’re wearing gloves.” Lifting her off the bed, he carried her into the bathroom and
set her down in the shower.
Getting inside, he started the water, stepping in front of her to take the blunt of the spray until
the water warmed. She slid her arms around his waist from behind to his semi-hard cock. “Why do
we still have to use a condom? I told you I was on the pill.”
“It’s a habit I’ll be happy to break when we’re married.”
He usually let Taylor have her way sexually, except for that hard and fast rule he had made for
himself. He had seen too many lives uprooted by unexpected pregnancies, and until he was settled
in one place, children could wait.
“I want at least two,” she whispered, sliding a hand across the back of his shoulder.
“What if I want three?”
“Three is uneven number.”
Gavin laughed. “Then two it is. Four is one too many for me.”
Taking the shower gel, he slathered it on his chest as they made plans for their future—
describing the home they wanted to buy to the three-car garage it would have to have, interspersing
talk with kisses and delicate touches as Taylor made up for the mess she made on his back. When
they finished, he wrapped a towel around her to dry her.
He was still drying her off when she grabbed his wrists.
“When are you going?”
“Soon.”
“How soon?”
“A couple of days.”
“You better not forget that I’m here waiting for you.”
“Babe, I’ll be gone a week at a time.”
She bit her nails into his skin, showing she wasn’t happy with his answer.
Grinning, he tugged his wrists away to lift her up until she was looking down at him. Then he
flashed her a wolfish smile. “How could I forget you? You’re the one that better not forget about me.
You’re only going to be cake testing with me.”
“You promise?” Running her hands through his damp hair, her eyes burned down into his.
“I swear, babe. I swear.”
 CHAPTER TEN

G avin jokingly bumped Natasha’s hip with his as he maneuvered between her and Evie.
“I would have gotten that for you.” She playfully nudged him back with her own hip.
“No need. I’m a big boy; I can wait on myself.” Circling the necks of two bottles with his fingers,
he hooked an arm around Natasha’s neck to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for offering,” he said before
moving away.
Going back around the bar, he sauntered through the club, feeling like a million dollars now that
everything was set up for him to leave and start building the factory. His life was settling neatly in
place, his goals coming true, he couldn’t be happier. The Last Riders’ business was flourishing and
he was going to marry a woman he loved. Being able to help people make their own dreams come
true was a bonus.
Setting one of the beers down in front of Rider, he sat in the empty chair beside him and took a
drink while picking up the cards he’d been dealt while gone. “Anything happen while I was away?”
“Other than Memphis deciding to raise the bet, no.”
Gavin stared at his cards before giving Memphis a smirk. “You’re going to regret that.”
“You’re not getting me this time. You don’t have shit.”
“Wanna bet?”
Memphis lit the stub of a joint. Taking a hit, he blew the smoke at him. “Fuck you.”
Five minutes later, Gavin smoothly slid Memphis’s money to join his growing pile.
“You’ve been bluffing all night, and when I bet my paycheck, you have a full house?” Taking
another hit, he took the cards from Rider to shuffle them. “I’ll deal the cards this time.”
When Memphis readied to toss a card to him, Gavin shook his head. “I’m out. I need to talk to
Viper, and Taylor will be waiting for me.”
“You getting pussy-whipped by the cunt you asked to marry you?”
Gavin lowered the beer bottle he was raising to his lips. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” Memphis’s bloodshot eyes didn’t flinch from his.
“If I hear you call my woman a cunt again, it’ll be the last word out of your mouth.”
Memphis took another hit before passing what was left to Crash. As he opened his mouth, Gavin
was ready for another nasty comment. Poised to go over the table and break his fucking neck, he
jerked his arm away from Rider’s restraining hand.
“Memphis, take a walk. You’re high as fuck. It wouldn’t be a fair fight between you and Reaper.”
“Shit, Rider. Your taste in women isn’t any better than his.”
“For the last time, I suggest you take a walk. I won’t tell you again.”
Memphis flung the cards down on the table, then pushed his chair away so hard that it tipped
over when he stood. “Fuck.” Shoving what little remained of his cash into his pocket, he glared at
them both. “Why don’t you tell him the truth? If you’re such best buds, at least be straight with
him.”
Gavin turned his rapier gaze toward his best friend. “What’s he talking about?”
Rider picked up the cards and started dealing them to the three other men at the table as
Memphis’s expression dared Rider to explain what he was talking about. “Nothing.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing. Are you talking about my relationship behind my back?”
“Want me to tell him?” Memphis goaded. “Rider and I were at the bar and saw Moon hitting on
Taylor—”
“You should really go take that walk,” Rider’s low voice interrupted Memphis.
“Keep going.”
Memphis might have been high, but from Rider’s stiff posture, he didn’t want Memphis repeating
what had been said.
“When was this?” Gavin asked.
“I forgot to mark it on my calendar,” Memphis smarted off to him.
Gavin didn’t have an issue with Moon hitting on Taylor before he had claimed her. Several of the
brothers tried to get in her bed.
 “What’s that got to do with Rider?”
Rider threw the cards down on the table. “Why don’t you ask me instead of him?”
“So, tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell that I haven’t already said to you before,” Rider gritted out.
“Go ahead, Memphis. Finish your story.”
Memphis righted the chair, shoving it under the table. “Rider laughed and said that Moon didn’t
stand a chance at getting within sniffing distance of that tag chaser.”
“That it?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Memphis smirked. “I think I’ll take that walk now, Rider.”
Gavin let him go, his anger now directed at the man next to him. “You called Taylor a tag
chaser?”
Rider set his jaw stubbornly. “I didn’t say anything to Memphis that I haven’t said to your face.”
“Why do you think she’s a tag chaser? If that were true, Taylor would have chased after all the
brothers here. She didn’t. None of them were given the time of day except me.”
Rider narrowed his eyes at him in warning. “Brother, I’ve said my peace about Taylor before.
You’re just as delusional over her as I was Delara.” Rider’s eyes darkened in sympathy.
“No, I’m not.”
“Fine, I’m wrong.” Rider threw a twenty into the growing pile.
“Don’t placate me,” Gavin snapped.
Rider threw his cards down again. “I need another beer. You ready for another one?”
“She’s not a tag chaser!” Gavin insisted, despite Rider trying to walk away from the burgeoning
argument.
Standing, Rider rested his hand on the table and lowered his voice so the other brothers couldn’t
hear what he said, making his opinion of Taylor clear. “You’re right; she’s not a tag chaser. She’s a
medal hoe.”
What Rider was saying went through him as deeply as if he rode his bike over tire spikes.
Gavin stood, confronting Rider before moving away from the table. “Is that what you tell yourself
to explain why Taylor picked me over you?”
“No, I’m telling you because it’s the truth. None of the others are willing to man up and tell you
to open your fucking eyes and see that bitch is taking you for a fucking ride.”
Gavin struck out before he could pull it back, punching Rider across the cheek. As soon as his fist
connected, he regretted it. They had sworn a long time ago never to let a woman come between
their friendship.
Rider was entitled to his opinion. Getting physical wouldn’t change his mind, only time would.
What had led him to losing his control was the fact Rider didn’t trust his judgment and calling
Taylor a whore was showing disrespect not only to her but to him. As much as he hated Rider’s wife,
he had always shown her the respect she deserved as Rider’s woman.
“Fuck you, Gavin.” Taking his money off the table, Rider pushed Gavin out of his way. “Find
someone else to take you back to Treepoint. Take Memphis, you both can go to Hell, and I wouldn’t
miss you.”
Feeling like a douche and irritated at himself, Gavin avoided Crash’s, Nickel’s, and Knox’s
censuring expressions and walked to the back for the meeting with Viper. Then he needed to find
Rider and make amends before going to Taylor’s. Why had he let Memphis get to him? Anytime the
brother lost at cards he was a killjoy. He had known that before he sat down to join the card game,
still Memphis seemed to enjoy baiting him and Rider.
“Fuck,” Gavin muttered to himself. Despite the friendship they had, it wasn’t the first time they
hit each other. He was as close to Rider as Viper, in some ways closer. While he and Rider never
hesitated partying together in sexual romps with women, he never had with Viper. Instead they
argued about Viper’s control over him, whereas he and Rider argued over stupid shit, like which bar
to go to or who had the better bike—until Delara and now Taylor. It wasn’t so much Memphis
causing the fight as Gavin becoming increasingly frustrated that no one—especially Rider and Viper
—respected his decisions. When he voiced concerns about Delara, Rider told him that he believed in
their relationship; he stood beside Rider and never said another word, not even when they married.
Was it too much to expect the same support in return? Fuck, at this point he’d just take everyone
getting off his back about her.
Gavin came to a stop in the doorway of the office. Seeing what was going on inside, he almost
left, but he wanted to get the conversation over with, since his evening had already gone to shit and
he didn’t want to spend the rest of the night arguing with Taylor about being late.
“You have a few, Viper?”
The woman sitting on Viper’s lap wasn’t happy at the interruption.
“No, he doesn’t.” Evie’s eyes flared as bright as her hair at seeing him.
Viper leaned to the side to pick up her top, handing it back to her. “I need to talk to him. We can
do this later.”
Taking her top, she got off his lap. “Maybe I’ll be busy.”
Viper caught her hand before she could stomp off. “Give me thirty.”
Evie’s displeasure at him vanished.
 Gavin came farther into the office so that Evie would have room to pass him.
“Thirty minutes,” she warned.
Gavin solemnly held his hand up before taking the chair by Viper’s desk as Evie closed the door.
“You’re late.”
“Sorry,” he said shortly, not wanting to explain the argument he had with Rider.
Viper folded his hands over his waist. “What was so important you wanted to talk to me about?”
“I’ve decided to go to Treepoint earlier than I expected. I’m leaving in the morning.”
“What’s the rush?”
“I’ve set up a meeting to secure another loan from the bank there, and I want to take another
walk-through of the property.”
“Rider on board going early?”
“Rider won’t be going; it’ll only be me.”
“Then reschedule the meeting until he can. I can’t leave right now with the big order that just
came in or I’d go with you. Give me a week, and we can take the trip together.”
Gavin gave him a disbelieving look. “You’re kidding, right? You think I can’t handle myself in
Treepoint?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You might as well have. I’m not a fucking kid anymore. Was making me your vice president just
to make the men respect me?”
Viper straightened in his chair. “Where in the fuck is this coming from?”
“I’m sick of being dissed.”
“No one is dissing you!”
“You are if you think I can’t handle myself in that one-horse town.”
“That one-horse town has a drug smuggling ring going right through it.”
“Lucky is there. If I need help changing a tire, I’m sure I can call him.”
“Watch it, Gavin. You’re the one who’s being disrespectful.”
“I’m fucking tired of everyone doubting my decisions!”
“I’m not doubting your decisions; I’m questioning why the change of plans and not taking Rider
with you. Besides, I thought it would be a fun road trip we could do together. I could get a look
around town so when the buyers ask, I can give directions and know what the fuck I’m talking
about.”
“Rider doesn’t want to go anymore.”
“Since when is that his decision to make?”
“Since we got in an argument about Taylor.”
“Oh.”
The one word said it all.
“You have a problem with me marrying her, too?”
“No. I might not like her, but that’s your call to make.”
“I’m getting pretty fucking sick of everyone sharing their opinions that I don’t want or ask for.”
“We’re just trying to watch out for you—”
“I don’t need you watching out for me, Loker. You served an extra year because you didn’t want
to leave me overseas without you. I don’t need you fathering me every five seconds. Ton doesn’t
even keep track of me the way you do.
“I don’t understand why you don’t like her. She has a good job, she keeps her own roof over her
head, and she has more money in her checking account than I do.”
“You want to know why Taylor went for you when she had every brother in the club wanting to
fuck her?”
“Careful, Viper. Some things can’t be taken back once they’re said.”
“If you want to hold hearing the truth over me, go ahead. But I’m never not going to tell you
what I think because I’m afraid you’re going to cut me out of your life. Taylor wants you because the
only other man in the club right now who has more medals than you is Shade, and he shut her down
when she made her move on him.”
“If I was a jealous man, I wouldn’t belong to The Last Riders. Taylor wouldn’t be the first woman
to try to hook up with Shade.”
“No, but she was the first one who grilled Evie about which brother came home with the most
medals pinned to his chest. You know Evie; she couldn’t help but brag about Shade. When Shade
wasn’t interested, she kept asking when she was going to be able to meet Lucky. And when Evie
finally wised up and quit talking to her about Lucky, she suddenly decided to let you catch her.
“Damn, Gavin, I thought you were smart enough not to be taken in by a bunny magnet. You were
smart enough to see through Delara, brother. I raised you to recognize a spade is a spade—”
“That’s enough! We’re done.” Gavin furiously tore his jacket off, throwing it at Viper. “I’m so
fucking done with you trying to run my life. I’m fucking done! Hear me?” he yelled. “I fucking love
her! You get me? I’m not asking you or anyone else in the club to like her; all I ask of you is to
respect my decision.
“Taylor was right! She’s been telling me the club has been trying to drive a wedge between us!
But no, I didn’t believe her. I took up for every one of you fuckers!
 “You’re right, Viper. Taylor isn’t the one trying to fool me. I’ve been fooling myself that you’d ever
see me as an adult able to live up to your standards. I’m never going to do it, am I?”
Gavin went to the door, his hand on the knob. “I’m going to fulfill my commitment to The Last
Riders because all the loans and paperwork are in my name. When it’s finished, I’ll leave with a
clear conscience that I didn’t leave you or the brothers with a job half-done. I’m riding alone.”
“You’re not going alone!” Viper yelled so loud the jug of water in the water cooler swirled.
Unlike the argument he had with Rider, Gavin didn’t feel guilty. This fight had been brewing for a
while. He just couldn’t believe that it was a woman who made him realize that he was never going
to measure up to Viper’s standards. The only way he would earn the respect he deserved was to
break away from The Last Riders. Show them that he didn’t need the club as a shield. No one
worried about the other members when they left for missions, only asked when they would be back.
No, it was only him they made a big fucking deal out of it. And that is going to stop now! he thought
furiously to himself.
Viper lowered his voice, but said just as commanding, “If Rider doesn’t want to go, take Train.”
“Train’s not going. I want him to stay here. He’s going to be responsible for Taylor while I’m
gone.”
“You asked me to be the one to watch her.”
“Things change. I want Train.”
“It’s your choice.”
Gavin turned around to face his brother and said in a chilling voice, “Yes, it is. If you’re
determined to send someone, send Memphis. At least he’s honest, and he won’t be breathing down
my neck.”
“Fine. Take him.”
“Thanks. At least you can agree with one thing I’ve said,” Gavin mocked. Opening the door, he
felt a moment of regret that he had let the argument get out of hand.
“Gavin ….”
Gavin started to turn, thinking Viper was going to apologize. He was going to offer his own
apology when Viper’s next words stopped him cold.
“… you can send Evie back. Tell her we’re done.”
With a finality that he never believed he would say, as long as he had breath in his body, he let
the opportunity to apologize slip away and instead said, “Yes, we are.”
 CHAPTER ELEVEN

“G o to bed and get some sleep. I’ll hold Fynn for a while.”
Ginny lifted sleepy eyes at Silas’s low voice. Then, shrugging away from the hand that
Silas laid on her shoulder, she held the small baby closer to her chest. “I’m not tired.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re as hardheaded as he was.”
Her lips trembled at being compared to the man who had taken her in and made her his. She had
never felt the difference between her and the children who he actually fathered.
“I loved him so much.”
Ginny stared down at the baby she was holding, seeing the resemblance to Silas and his older
brothers.
“I know you did. He also loved you.”
She hadn’t been aware she had spoken out loud until Silas confirmed her father’s feelings for
her.
“What are we going to do without him? I’m scared.”
“I am, too.”
Silas’s admission had her glancing up from the baby. She grew even more frightened that her
big, tough brother was revealing his fear. “We only have what money you make. No one will hire the
other boys. I don’t understand why everyone hates us. What are we going to do?”
“We’ll have to do what we have to do.”
Her fear built when his expression hardened.
“None of us expected Dad and Leah to get killed on that ATV.”
“Everyone was saying he was drunk.” Sick from the rumors that she heard at their father’s
graveside, she still regretted not screaming at those few who had attended just because they
wanted more gossip to spread.
“It’s just rumors. Don’t let it bother you. Dad made enemies in town. I’ve made more than a few
myself. Other than letting you go to church once a week, Dad kept us away from there. He had no
friends, and the kids’ mothers hated him for not marrying them. Half the reason people in town hate
us is because of them bad-mouthing him.”
Ginny couldn’t understand how anyone couldn’t love their father. There wasn’t a mean bone in
his body.
“It was a horrible accident. He didn’t mean to kill Leah.”
She swallowed down the lump in her throat. Their father had just bought the new ATV and was
giving all the kids a ride. He’d just returned from taking Moses out.
“Who’s next?”
He laughed when he all the kids yelled out. “Me! Me!”
Grinning happily, he motioned for her. “Come on, Ginny.”
Practically skipping at the thrill of going next, she was about to get on the machine when she
saw Leah’s disappointment.
“It’s okay, Dad. Leah can have my turn.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Her sister pulled her into a hug. “You’re the best sister in the world. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Seeing her sister’s excited face as she jumped on the back, Ginny knew she had made the right
choice. She could take the next turn.
As long as she lived, Ginny would never forget the way her dad and Leah looked as they rode
away.
“I shouldn’t have let her take my turn. She’s dead because of me.”
“I told you I didn’t want to hear that come out of your mouth again. It was an accident. Dad was
going too fast and neither of them were wearing helmets. I told him to wait to ride until I got back
from the dealership. Do you blame me for forgetting to put the helmets in the truck when we bought
the ATV?”
“No, you were busy putting Fynn in the car seat.”
“He should have waited.” Sitting down on the couch next to her, Silas buried his face in his
hands.
Ginny used the corner of Fynn’s blanket to wipe away a tear that had fallen down her cheek.
When Silas raised his face, a tight knot of fear inexplicably rose in her chest. She had never seen
the look on his face before. He looked defeated.
“Isaac, take the baby. Ginny, we need to talk.”
“Why can’t we talk here?”
All of her brothers, who were sitting around the room, looked at Silas with the same question in
their eyes.
“Give the baby to Isaac. Let’s go to your room.”
Standing, she gave Isaac the baby. Her legs felt like jelly as she walked toward the steps. Holding
on to the banister to keep herself from falling, she heard Silas coming up behind her. Passing the
bathroom at the top, she went into the small room that she had shared with Leah. She hadn’t slept
there since Leah died, unable to bear seeing the bed that her sister wouldn’t sleep in again.
Ginny sat down on her twin bed as Silas followed her inside and shut the door behind him.
Crossing the room to sit down on Leah’s bed, he faced her.
“You know I love you, right?”
Ginny nodded.
“That I will always love you, right?”
“Yes,” she croaked out. “What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”
Silas leaned forward, placing his forearms on his thighs. “You have to leave.”
Licking dry lips, she shook her head at him. “I don’t want to.”
“I don’t want you to, either. But it has to be this way. I have to increase my hours at work. The
only reason my boss at the lumber yard hired me was because my mom talked him into it. That was
before he found out Mom was sneaking around to meet up with Dad when he was at work. After he
found out, he divorced her, but I was able to keep my job. None of the boys are going to be hired,
since they think we’re all drug dealers because of the crazy signs Dad posted to keep trespassers
out.”
“Because of me.”
Silas gave a crooked smile. “He might have grown a few pot plants for himself. Dad was no saint,
despite what you think.”
“He was a good man—”
“Ginny ….”
“He was.” Ginny stubbornly refused to think poorly about her dad. “Dad posted those signs to
protect me.”
“Yes and no. He got a kick out of competing with the Hayes and Porters about who could make
the best no trespassing signs. Dad took it as a challenge.”
Ginny couldn’t argue with that. Some of her best memories were when their dad sat all the kids
at the table with posters and paints to make the signs. “Yes, he did.”
Silas’s face twisted in grief before he looked at the clock on her bedside table. “You need to pick
out what you want to take with you. The sheriff will be here in an hour to take you to your new
home.”
“Please ….” Her heart hurt so badly. It was as if her dad and Leah were dying all over again. “I
don’t want to go. Let me stay … Please don’t make me leave.” Unable to stop herself, she started
crying.
“Don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”
Ginny didn’t care that Silas was also trying hard not to cry. She didn’t want to leave her family.
“I won’t eat much, I swear. I’ll do all the chores. I can babysit.”
“Stop it! I don’t have a choice. Dad’s dead, and he’s not coming back. Someone in town reported
to social services that the younger kids aren’t in school. I have to apply for guardianship for them.”
“You can apply for me, too—”
“I can’t. You know I can’t. Listen, Ginny, this isn’t a bad thing. You’ll be able to go to school now.
You won’t have to be homeschooled anymore.”
“Will the boys be going to school with me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Will I be able to see them at school and come visit like Ezra and Fynn mothers let them do?”
“No, I think it will be better for us to make a clean break.”
“But, why? I can see them at school,” she sobbed out.
“Jesus, I’m doing this to protect you. No one in this town likes us, so the farther you stay away
from us, the better. They’ll figure out that you hate us like the rest of the town.
“I burned a lot of bridges when I was younger. We weren’t always homeschooled. Me, Isaac, and
Jacob used to go to school. We were made fun of because we all had different mothers. It’s Bible
country—you’re supposed to marry when you have babies here. Dad didn’t. He couldn’t care less
what those hypocrites thought. I cared, and so did the other boys. I wasn’t going to let the little
ones be treated the same way. I did things I’m not proud of to get myself thrown out of school. I
can’t change the way the others in town are going to act toward the other kids, but I can you.”
“I don’t care how they treat me if I stay here!”
“You do care, Ginny. You’re not thick-skinned like we are, and you’re smarter than any of us hope
to be. You were the one that taught both Leah and Ezra to read. You’re too smart to make this
mountain your life.
“Dad never told me why the sheriff wanted to hide you away from everyone, and I don’t want to
know. Dad was paranoid about leaving you alone at the house, making sure he or I was always with
you. He’s gone now, and I can’t be home all the time. To keep the younger ones fed, the older ones
can’t be here with you constantly. Matt’s fourteen; he’ll be able to watch the smaller ones while
we’re gone, but he’s not strong enough to protect them if whoever the sheriff is hiding you away
from comes looking for you.”
“So I’m ex-penable.” She was crying so hard she could barely get the word out.
“It’s expendable.” His lips tightened in a firm line. “And no, you’re not expendable. I just can’t
lose another sister.”
“If you make me leave, I’ll hate you forever. Please, Silas, I can talk to Papa Will. He’ll let me stay
—”
“He agrees with me.” He stood up. “I’ll go get you a bag for your things. Hurry up; the sheriff
will be coming, and you’ll say good-bye to the boys.”
When Silas left her room, Ginny jumped on the bed and walked across the made bed to reach the
shelf. Taking the brown kangaroo down, she plopped back down to her butt and reached into the
pocket, coming out with the cell phone that Will had given her. Every year, he switched it out with a
newer model. She then frantically dialed the number that Hammer had made her memorize years
ago, praying he would answer before Silas came back.
“Hello?”
“It’s … me,” she hiccupped the words out.
“Ginny … quit crying. I can barely hear you.”
Taking a deep breath, she held the phone in a death grip. “Make Papa Will let me stay.”
She could only hear silence on the other end.
“Please, Hammer, I swear I won’t call you anymore to bug you about Trudy. Don’t make me leave
my family.” Tears slipped from her eyes, but she managed to hold the cries back so he could hear
her.
“We’re only doing what’s best for you. Will found a place where you can live and he can keep a
better eye on you.”
“I don’t need Will. Dad taught me how to shoot. I can protect myself.”
“No, you can’t.”
“I can—”
“No, Ginny, you can’t. Do you remember the man who was on the boat with us after I got you out
of plane? He came to the cabin the night before I took you to Will?”
“Yes.” Ginny had never forgot the mean’s man face.
“He’s dead. Both he and his wife are dead. He was able to take care of himself a lot better than
you will ever be. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“Are you saying they’re dead because of me?”
Bewildered by what Hammer was telling her, she waited breathlessly for his reply.
“Maybe, maybe not. We can’t be sure. There’s no need to be frightened. It happened a few years
ago, and if he had given up any information about you, someone would have showed up long before
now.”
“Then why can’t I stay?”
“Because Will said that the man who was protecting you is dead. If they find you, do you want
your family hurt?”
“No,” she mumbled, laying her head on her knees.
“Sorry, kid. I wish you could stay. I really do.”
“I hate you. I’m not going to call you anymore.” Raising her head to disconnect the call, she saw
Silas standing in the doorway with a black trash bag in his hand.
“Where did you get the phone?”
Silently crying, she climbed off the bed to walk toward him. Jerking the bag away from him, she
starting tossing her things inside as Silas watched. Going to her closet, she pulled her clothes off
the hangers and shoved them into the bag. “Go away. I’ll be down in minute,” she snapped, unable
to handle him watching her.
Waiting for him to leave, she turned back to the closet, tears blurring her vision as she stared at
the remaining clothes. They were Leah’s.
Sliding the pink jacket off the hanger and leaving the exact same jacket that her dad had bought
her for Christmas, she put on Leah’s. She wanted to sink to the floor and close the door when she
smelled Leah’s scent still clinging to it.
 With her bedroom door open, she could hear someone knocking on the front door downstairs.
“Evening, Sheriff.”
“Evening, Silas. How are you boys doing?”
Not paying attention to what Silas was saying, she went back to the bed. Tying the trash bag
closed, she lifted it up and, without looking back, went downstairs to see the sheriff and Silas
standing by the door.
“I’m ready,” she told the sheriff, not looking at Silas.
When the sheriff would have reached for the trash bag, Ginny jerked it away.
“I can carry it,” she snapped.
“All right.” The sheriff opened the door and went through it.
“Don’t you want to say good-bye to the boys?” Silas asked huskily.
Ginny encased her emotions in steel. This wasn’t the first time she had to leave her family behind
—Manny, Trudy, her dad, Leah. She didn’t have another good-bye in her.
Dry-cheeked, she went out the door, determined not to break when her little brothers came out
onto the porch, crying for her.
She didn’t look back, carrying her bag to the car and opening the back door, she tossed the bag
inside before getting in and closing the door. She didn’t even look out the car window when Ezra,
Jacob, and Jody started banging on the glass beside her as the sheriff got in the car.
She also didn’t look back when she heard Silas and Isaac tell the boys to get back to let the car
pull out.
“Ginny, it’s going—”
“Don’t talk to me ever again. I hate you.”
She did look in the rearview mirror as he drove away to the sounds of her brothers’ yells
following.
Numbly, she stared out the window as the trees passed outside, burying the echoing sound of
their childish voices deep in her memory. Like she had the sound of her dad’s and Leah’s laughter.
Like she had the sound of Trudy’s voice before the plane had crashed.
When the car stopped, she looked out at the house the sheriff parked in front of.
“This is it. Your new home.”
Unbuckling the seatbelt, Ginny opened the door, then took her bag. She got out as the sheriff
came around the front of the car.
Slamming the door, she didn’t look back at the car, or at the shiny cell phone she left behind.
 C H A P T E R T W E LV E

S taring at the bare pink wall, Ginny sat cross-legged on her bed, listening to music as she did
her homework. One thing was sure, she wasn’t going to college. She hated school. It wasn’t
that she couldn’t do the work, but she definitely wasn’t the brightest bulb in her class.
Nibbling on her lip, she looked at the jumble of numbers that she couldn’t make any sense of,
despite using formulas the teacher had taught them to use.
Brushing a wisp of her brown hair back, she was about to work on the problem again when her
bedroom door was opened.
Veiling her eyes with her lashes, she hid the dislike she felt for her foster mother.
“Dinner’s ready.”
Ginny wasn’t fooled by the plastic smile the woman gave her. Lisa West was beautiful, had a
handsome husband, and lived in a gorgeous home, but there was something missing from the
woman and Ginny couldn’t figure out what it was.
As angry as she was the first day, she had been polite when the sheriff introduced her to Lisa and
Dalt West. Their smiles had blinded her at first, because they had been so friendly. Lisa had even
placed a motherly arm around her as she led her up the stairs to her new bedroom. It had been so
long since she experienced a mother’s touch that the simple gesture nearly had her breaking down
in tears.
The bedroom that Lisa guided her into was three times the size of the one she left behind.
Decorated in pale pink and white, it had a huge bed with a canopy hanging down from overhead,
the white filmy curtain twining around the four bedposts. It was a fairy tale bedroom that little girls
dreamed about.
Ginny hated it.
The room was picture-perfect. In a magazine, it would get oohs and ahhs, but to live in it was
painful.
“Take your shoes off. I don’t want the carpet to get dirty. From now on, when you come inside the
house, place your shoes under the entry table.” The motherly tone she had greeted her with was
gone.
Briskly walking across the room, her heels sunk into the snow-white carpet as she opened the
closest. “You can hang your clothes inside.” Flashes of light hit the diamond ring on her hand as she
waved toward a bureau on the opposite side of the room. “You can use that for things you don’t
want to put on a hanger.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She winced, folding her arms over her chest. “Call me Mrs. West or Lisa. I don’t care for ma’am.”
“Yes, m—Mrs. West.” Ginny gripped the knot in the trash bag harder at the critical way the
woman stared at her.
“I don’t like clutter, so keep your room clean. There’s a basket in the bathroom for your dirty
clothes, and in the morning, I’ll show you how I like the bed made.”
Ginny couldn’t talk around the lump in her throat that was forming, so she gave a nod,
understanding what was expected of her.
“Dinner will be in ten minutes. Get washed up and come downstairs.” Lisa elegantly walked back
to the doorway, pausing before leaving and giving her a stony glance. “One other thing, this is your
room. Except the dining room for meals, you are not allowed in any other rooms, even the
bathroom. You have your own, so there’s no need to use the guest’s. Do I make myself clear?”
Ginny finally found her voice. “Yes, Mrs. West.”
“Ten minutes,” she reminded her. “The sheriff will be staying for dinner. He wants to make sure
that you’re comfortable and settled before he leaves.” Her voice got even colder. “I wouldn’t want
him to take more time than he needs to assure himself you are. The sheriff is a busy man and has
more important matters to contend with than catering to a twelve-year-old. Do you understand?”
She did. If she wasn’t so angry with the sheriff at making her leave her family, she would carry
her trash bag down the stairs and beg him to take her anywhere but here.
 “Yes, Mrs. West. I’ll be right down.”
Looking back, Ginny realized it had been a stubborn mistake she was now going to have to live
with for the foreseeable future.
She had sat at the dinner table, mutely refusing to respond to any attempt the sheriff made to
talk to her. She’d still been sitting at the table, staring down at a slice of pork swimming in apples,
wanting to puke, when he excused himself and left her behind. He looked back, giving her time to
stop him. Firming her lips, she shot him an angry look that she hoped would hurt him as much as it
did her.
The month she had lived there was miserable. The only good part of the day was school, and that
wasn’t saying much.
She missed being homeschooled by her dad. He would give them a folder at the beginning of
each week and, by Friday, she would have worked through it at her own pace. The best part of it
was her father sucked at math the same way she did. He had given Silas her folder to grade the
math assignments, and her brother had somehow made her understand how to get the answer. The
teacher at school couldn’t care less, just slashing a red mark on the top. Every red mark made her
heart shrivel a little more each day. Just like the way Lisa looked and spoke to her every day.
“I’m not hungry.”
Her foster mother leaned against the doorjamb, folding her arms across her chest in a pose that
Ginny was starting to hate as much as her. “Don’t you think it’s time you quit acting like a spoiled
bitch?”
Ginny’s mouth dropped open.
“That’s right; I called you a bitch. If you act like one, that’s how you’ll get treated by me.”
She didn’t know what to say. She had never been talked to like that before.
“I’ve had it with your attitude. There’s only one bitch in this home, and sweetheart, it’s not you.”
Her harsh remarks cut her like a knife. She wanted to snap back at the woman, but fear held her
back. There was a similar gleam in Lisa’s eyes that she remembered seeing when she was younger.
She instinctively closed her mouth, deciding not to provoke her, too afraid of what she would do.
“Your teacher called me to set up a meeting with her. She’s concerned you’re failing, that you’re
not making any effort to get your homework done, and when you do, it’s wrong.” Gliding across the
room, she came to stand next to the bed.
Ginny’s body was taut in fear, seeing the fury that she hadn’t seen when she was farther away.
Lisa curved her lips in a cruel smile. “Relax, sweetie. I won’t lay a hand on you. I may be forced
to live in hillbilly central, but that doesn’t mean I have to act like they do.” Sitting down on her bed,
Lisa elegantly crossed her legs as she flipped her book closed, forcing her attention on her.
Running the pad of her thumb over polished nails, she began talking, and as she did, Ginny
wanted to jump from the bed and run from the room. Fear kept her in place.
“We need to come to an agreement. I became a foster mother for one reason, and that’s because
I don’t have any of my own kids. To be blunt, there are certain invitations and functions that only
parents are given. I need a child to accomplish that goal. That’s where you come in. If I can’t use
you that way, you’re useless to me.
“I wanted a much younger child. Unfortunately, I let the sheriff convince me to accept you into
my home. A decision I am now regretting.”
“I don’t like it here either.” Arching her shoulders back obstinately, Ginny tried to cover her
apprehension. She didn’t want her foster mother to know how afraid of her she was. It was a hard
lesson she had learned when she dealt with someone even scarier than the glamourous woman
trying to intimidate her.
“Shut up. When I want your stupid, little opinion, I’ll ask for it,” she said cuttingly, making her
feel an inch small.
“You should be kissing the ground I walk on that you’re going to get the benefit of my guidance.
The best thing that ever happened to you is that I am willing to ignore that trashy”— Ginny’s hands
curled into fists at her family being called trashy—“background you were born into, and you can
now grow up to be a woman who can have a career you can be proud of, unlike the mother who left
you to be raised by a man whose only way to make a living was to father as many children as he
could. You, my dear, will not be spitting out a brat every year to earn another check.”
Ginny lowered her lashes, concealing her distaste for the woman who thought she was better
than her dad. Her dad had showered her with enough love and self-worth that she was able to see
through the thrall of fear that her foster mother was trying to instill in her.
Sliding off the bed, Ginny went to the chest to take out an armful of clothes and dumped them on
the bed. She was going to the closet to get her jacket when she turned around at the sound of
malicious laughter.
“Going somewhere?”
“I’m leaving.”
“You might want to think about that,” she said snidely.
“You can’t stop me. All I have to do is tell the sheriff I won’t stay here anymore.”
Lisa shrugged. “You’re right. I’m fully aware the sheriff has a soft spot for you.”
Ginny was feeling afraid again. Lisa was too confident that she could get her to do anything she
wanted. Telling herself not to listen to her foster mother, she started edging back toward the door. It
might be cold outside, but it was worth continuing without a jacket rather than listening to Lisa.
She would make the sheriff get it back for her.
“Of course, not only will the sheriff be looking for a new place for you but all those small
brothers of yours.”
“Why would he have to do that?”
“I’ve seen your older brother around town with them hanging on his side. He seems
overwhelmed right now, doesn’t he? Oh, I forgot you haven’t seen him since you left. If I noticed
how hard he’s having it, then it’s only a matter of time before social services notice it also.
Naturally, I would hate to involve myself in these matters, but for you, I would make an exception.”
Lisa’s veiled threat stopped her in her tracks.
“The sheriff won’t let you do that.”
“How can he stop me? He has to do what the judge tells him.” Lisa tilted her head curiously.
“You’re very sure the sheriff will step in. Why would he care? You’re not the only child that the court
has ordered him to place.”
Ginny trembled at the way she was looking at her.
“I’ve seen you in the diner with him a few times after church. Now that I think of it, you also sit
by him during service. Maybe I should report someone else to social services.”
Sickened at what Lisa was implying, Ginny wanted to run from the room and never see her again,
but she knew if she did, Lisa would vindictively take it out on the sheriff and Silas.
“I hate you.”
The woman lifted her lips in a satisfied smile. “I couldn’t care less. I don’t like you either, so
we’re even.” Standing, she smoothed her dress down then moved toward her to tower over her in
heels that had Ginny forcing to look up at her.
“I’m perfectly willing to call a truce. It’s all up to you. Am I going to the kitchen to get you a
trash bag, or are you going to try harder to make me happy?”
There was no way she was going to make Lisa happy unless she admitted the truth. “I’m not any
good at math, no matter how hard I try.”
“I’m not surprised. Your teacher informed me that none of the Colemans have a track record to
be proud of in school. Taking that into consideration, I asked a friend of mine to tutor you. I expect
you to be on your best behavior around him. Don’t disappoint me twice, Ginny. You won’t like me if
you do.
“Please brush your hair before you come down to dinner. It’s a mess.” Using a rose-tipped nail,
she flicked her ponytail off her shoulder. “I’ve made an appointment for you with my hairdresser. I
think a shorter cut would suit you much better.”
Ginny worriedly touched her hair. “I like my hair long.”
“It makes you look trashy. We’re trying to get away from that, aren’t we?”
Only the thought of her brothers and Papa Will had her nodding her head acceptably. “Yes, Mrs.
West.”
Ginny turned to watch her foster mother leave. Then she shakily went to the bathroom to brush
her hair. Dry-eyed, she looked at herself in mirror. “This all your fault,” she told her reflection. “You
deserve having to live with the mean witch. I hate you so much!” She jerkily picked up her brush
and pulled the comb through her hair, uncaring if she tore out strands. “She’s right; you’re stupid.
So … stupid.” Over and over, she slid the brush through her hair until it lay smooth and could be
pulled back into a ponytail.
Washing her face and hands, she then reached for the hand towel that was neatly arranged by
the sink. Patting her face dry, she lowered the towel, revealing her reflection again.
“Please remember …,” she begged herself helplessly. “Please remember ….”
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

G inny came out of school, her heart sinking at the sight of seeing Lisa talking to the principal.
She wished she could be like the other children who were lining up to get on the school buses,
or the ones who were dutifully taking their turns to get in the vehicles that were in the pickup line.
Lisa not only wasn’t waiting her turn in her car, but she wasn’t dressed like the other moms.
Ginny dragged her feet forward, coming to a stop beside Lisa. She wanted to puke at the smile
Lisa gave her, but instead she remained silent, waiting for the conversation to finish.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a boy come out of the door, looking as unhappy as she. It
didn’t take long for her to understand why. Two older students were making fun of him as they
followed him to the bus. Moses was in their class, his thin body a third of the size of one of the
bullies pestering him.
“What’s wrong, crybaby? You forget your paci?”
Her temper flared at their jeers.
Ginny saw the teachers in the pickup zone were making no effort to stop the hurtful behavior, so,
shrugging her backpack higher on her shoulder, she moved away from her foster mother to come up
behind the two bullies who were tormenting her brother.
“Whew-ee ….” The larger of the two inclined his head within sniffing distance of Moses. “You and
your brothers wash your clothes in the toilet or the pigpen?” They laughed jeeringly, both taking
opposite sides of Moses to pin him between them.
Coming alongside of them, they didn’t notice until too late that she was witnessing each of them
holding a foot out to trip him.
She rushed forward furiously, swinging her backpack at the closest one to her.
“Ouch!” A freckled face turned toward her in shock, his hand on the side of his face.
“Stay away from my brother!” Running around Moses, she wildly swung her backpack at the
other boy before he could run away. “You big, ugly turd. The only one that stinks is you.”
“Ginny!”
“Ginny!”
Oblivious to her foster mother’s and the principal’s yell, Ginny stomped her foot at the two
terrified boys, pretending she was about to hit them again.
“My big brother will beat the ever-loving hell out of you when I tell him!”
Stomping her foot again, she managed to whack the freckled one again on the back as he fled up
the steps of the bus. She had her foot on the step to chase after him when she felt herself pulled
backward from the back of her dress.
“Stop it!” Lisa hissed in her ear. Grabbing her by the arm, she propelled her toward the school.
Ginny made sure not to wince when Lisa’s nails bit into the skin she was forcibly gripping. “How
dare you act like trash with everyone watching!”
Ginny felt her hands clenching into her as they went inside. She knew she was in big trouble
when Lisa didn’t stop until they were in the principal’s office and she was roughly set down in the
chair facing the desk.
“I’m so sorry, Ross!”
Unrepentant, she let her backpack fall to the floor and stubbornly faced the two adults who made
no effort to hide their disgust with the way she acted.
Ginny didn’t care. Moses was the sweetest of her brothers. He couldn’t stand anything being
hurt. Ginny couldn’t even count the number of times that he had nursed a sick animal back to
health, and the animals returned the natural affinity, letting him touch them despite not knowing
the touch of human hand. That two boys were preying on Moses made her sick to her stomach.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Lisa. I’ve dealt with the Colemans before. I have to
admit, finding out they would be entering the school system was not one of my better days.”
“I can imagine. I’ve only had to deal with Ginny for three months, and I’m at my wit’s end. She’s
very troubled, Ross.”
Under the principal’s judgmental gaze, Ginny had a better understanding of why Silas hated
school. She hated it, too. The teachers were snooty, and the highlight of their day was to see how
many children they could disparage as they walked past them in the halls.
Ginny had lived most of her life on the mountain, living in a bubble of protection. Being taken out
of that environment, she wasn’t dealing very well and didn’t know how to make it better. She felt
like she was in freefall and didn’t have anything or anyone to stop it.
“You’re an amazing woman, Lisa. I admire what you’re doing by bringing Ginny into your home.”
Something about the tone of the principal’s voice had her frowning in confusion. Switching her
gaze between the two of them, she was baffled at what it was.
She watched the principal head toward his desk, pausing beside Lisa to lay a comforting hand on
her back. If she hadn’t been studying them so closely, Ginny would have missed the way he slid his
hand down to the small of her back. The lingering touch made Ginny uncomfortable, and she
couldn’t explain why.
Ginny stiffened in her chair at the look that passed between them. Innocently unaware of why it
bothered her, she didn’t have time to wonder at it before the principal went behind his desk to stare
at her aloofly.
“What just took place outside cannot go unpunished, Ginny. I expect to be receiving phone calls
once Calvin and Evan arrive home. I’m going to have tell them that I took action to stop your
dangerous behavior from continuing.”
Ginny pressed her lips together so tightly that the outside curled inward.
“To do that, I feel the best thing to ensure your behavior is better under control is for you to stay
in the detention room next to mine, where I’ll keep an eye on you throughout the entire day. I will
escort you personally to your foster mother’s car in the afternoon, and if, at any time, I feel you have
not learned the lesson about what behavior is expected of you, I will extend your punishment until it
does. Do I make myself clear?”
Ginny stared back unflinchingly at the censorship of their eyes. He was going to punish her?
Ginny lowed her head so he wouldn’t see the hatred pouring out of her for his lack of care that
Calvin and Evan were tormenting Moses. It wasn’t fair, but Ginny had already learned a lesson
much harder than the principal thought he was going to teach her.
Life wasn’t fair. It was like a river that was just there—no rhyme or reason. It didn’t have
feelings, didn’t care that every living thing needed it to survive, yet it would share its wealth or be
as stingy as a miser. It could turn on you indiscriminately, creating havoc at a moment’s notice,
destroying lives and everything in its raging path. Exactly like the principal and her foster parents
were trying to do to her.
The principal used his authority to squeeze her into a plastic mold that had no substance, like
Lisa and Dalt. Pretty on the outside and hollow on the inside.
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re lucky, Ginny. Mr. Henderson could have expelled you for your behavior.”
Ginny cringed at the look Lisa gave her principal.
Seeing that she was watching them, his expression became even more foreboding, silently giving
her a warning that she was unable to understand. “Get your backpack. I promise you, Mr.
Henderson, her punishment will extend at home. I’m looking forward to working with you to get
Ginny on track where she will be able to overcome a background that, I think both of us would say,
has been sadly lacking in social graces.”
Ginny didn’t give Lisa the satisfaction of letting her see her wince when her hand went to Ginny’s
shoulder, biting her nails into her skin. Reaching down for her backpack, she was relieved when
Lisa released her shoulder to shake Mr. Henderson’s hand.
Following her foster mother from the office, Ginny knew that her polite attitude would change as
soon she was alone with her. To her surprise, though, Lisa didn’t say anything to her once they were
in the car, nor did she when they walked in the door of the house.
“Go to your room and get started on your homework. Pastor Dean is free this evening and wants
to begin your tutoring sessions.”
Her stomach rumbled as she went up the steps. She was gradually learning to ignore the hunger
pangs that she never had to deal with before. The kitchen was another room she was not allowed
into. If she was hungry, then she would have to wait until mealtime. She was allowed to keep a glass
to fill from the bathroom faucet in her room, but if Lisa came inside, as she periodically did during
the day when she was home, and the glass wasn’t sitting on a coaster, she would take it. It had
taken her being without for three days to ingrain that habit into her.
Taking her books out of her backpack, she started doing the homework that she hadn’t been able
to finish during the day. No sooner had she started, Lisa came in to tell her it was time to go. She
hadn’t even been able to start the work that needed to be completed at home. Despite how hard she
tried, she was falling further behind.
Had Silas felt so sorry for her and checked her answers right even when they were wrong? Was
Lisa right? Was she stupid? Her family had always made her feel like she was smart. Had it all been
a lie to keep her from realizing the truth?
Ginny stared out the window as they drove the short distance to the church. Lisa made no
attempt to talk to her unless she did something she didn’t like.
 Pulling into the parking, Lisa stopped the car. Instead of getting out like Ginny expected, her
foster mother rolled the window down before using the mirror to reapply her lipstick.
“Do you need to come inside with me?”
“No. Pastor Dean will call me when you’re done. Wait inside the church doors until you see my
car.”
Nodding, she walked toward the church.
The building was silent when she entered. The large cross on the wall behind the pulpit facing
her was the first thing she saw. The empty pews were arranged row after row with a center aisle in
the middle. The peaceful atmosphere loosened the tight knot in her chest that she’d been unaware
of. The memories of sitting in the third pew from the pulpit brought back memories of sitting there
every Sunday with Papa Will.
Tears built in her eyes. She hadn’t talked to him after he had taken her from her brothers.
Making a left, she headed toward Pastor Dean’s office. The door was open. Drawing closer, she
saw the pastor sitting behind his desk.
Seeing her at the door, the pastor gave her a welcoming smile. “Come in, Ginny. I’ve been
waiting for you.”
“Pastor,” Ginny greeted him back.
“Don’t look so apprehensive. I don’t bite.”
Ginny forced a smile to her lips, dreading him finding out how stupid she was.
The pastor was younger than the one before him. Plus, he was much nicer. Even her dad had said
that Pastor Dean made him want to go to church again. He hadn’t, though he had stayed outside
during services, saying each time he would give a try the following week. That Sunday had never
come, and it never would.
“Set your books down on my desk and pull up a chair. We’ll get started.”
Doing as he asked, Ginny placed her books on the desk. Dragging the chair from the front of the
desk and to the side beside him, she then sat down.
Pastor Dean looked at the books she brought with a raised brow. “You have homework in all the
subjects?”
Flushing, she started fidgeting in the chair. It wasn’t going to take him long to find out how
stupid she was. “Yes, Pastor.”
“Which one is giving you the most trouble?”
Ginny reached for her math book, moving it to the top of the stack.
“Math is my best subject. What chapter?”
Ginny opened the book to the chapter she had been attempting to work on.
“You’re only on chapter three?”
Turning red, she stared fixedly down at the page, praying she had miraculously learned how to
work the problems on the drive to church. She hadn’t, and now both God and the pastor knew how
stupid she was.
“I’m behind.”
“Then let’s catch you up.” Encouragingly, he asked which problem she was working on.
Taking a handout from her homework folder, she handed it to him. Expecting the pastor to
immediately begin telling her how to work the problem, Ginny took a pencil out of her bag. When he
set the paper down on his desk and just stared at it with a frown, Ginny wondered if he was having
as much trouble with it as she.
“Do you have any of your math papers with you?”
She opened her notebook to the section that she used for math, and the pastor pulled out the
papers that had been graded. He gave a quick glance when he saw the red mark at the top of each
of them before returning to the checked papers. It was several minutes before he raised his head
again.
“I know I’m stupid,” she said miserably, cutting him off before he could tell her what she had
already been told.
His frown grew deeper. “Who told you that you’re stupid?”
At the sight at his building anger, Ginny hastily retreated into her shell where no one could pry
information out of her if she didn’t want to tell.
“No one. I don’t need anyone tell me what I already know,” she said mutinously.
His expression turned kind. “You’re not stupid, Ginny; you’re dyslexic.”
“What’s that?”
“It means that numbers and letters look different to you than they do to me.”
“Does that mean I need glasses?”
“No, glasses correct vision. It can’t help the way your brain is seeing the information. Once
you’re taught a different way to look at letters and numbers, you should be able to catch up. Your
teacher should have caught this when she graded your papers and helped you instead of using that
red pencil so much. She didn’t even bother to show you how to work the problems you got wrong.
Do you have a clean piece of paper I can use?”
Ginny ripped a piece of paper out of her notebook and gave it to him. As she did, the pastor
flipped through the rest of her notebook, turning to her reading section.
 “Are you behind in your other subjects?”
“No, I’m catching up. I had to stop doing my math homework first and do it last. I get done
quicker with those subjects, but I can’t catch up on math.”
“Dyslexia can affect children in different areas. It could be just math that you need help with. I
have no training to teach you, but I’ll work with you until someone at the school is assigned to you.”
Laying the paper on the desk, he started working the first problem on the sheet, showing her
how he got the answer.
“You can try to do the next one by yourself.”
Concentrating on the numbers in the problem, she worked on the problem the way the pastor
had shown her. When she looked up, she saw him frowning again.
“What did I do wrong?”
“I don’t understand. I don’t think you are dyslexic. There’s nothing wrong with the way you
worked this one.” Taking one of the already checked homework sheets, he pointed to a problem on
it. “This is the same problem here. You switched the nine and six, and you switched the second and
third steps. Did your teacher show you how to work the problem this way?”
“No, the teacher didn’t show me how to work it. She just put the number of the handout for us to
work on.”
“Then how did you learn how to do it?”
“I learned how to do problems like this when my dad homeschooled me. Dad wasn’t good at
math, so he had Silas teach us. He’s really smart,” she bragged about her brother despite still being
mad at him.
The pastor stared at her thoughtfully before pointing to another problem. “Work this problem the
way I showed you, not the way Silas taught you.”
Focusing on the problem, she worked on it the way Pastor Dean had shown her. When she
finished, she slid the paper back to him.
“Ginny …?”
“Yes, Pastor?”
“You’re not stupid. In fact, I think you’re smarter than you and your teacher give you credit for.”
“You think so?” His compliment was the first ray of sunshine she had felt since her dad and Leah
died.
“Yes, I do. I’ll talk to Mrs. West when I call her after we’re finished and ask her permission for me
to stop by the school tomorrow and come up with a plan to catch you up with your classmates.”
The ray of sunshine spread to her eyes. “You’d do that for me?”
“I will on one condition.”
She didn’t care what he wanted as long as it got Lisa and her teacher off her back. If the teacher
kept calling Lisa to complain, she would call social services on her brothers. She was miserable
enough without worrying about them being just as miserable if they were taken away from Silas.
“Anything,” she promised fervently.
“Good. Then I expect to see you in church this Sunday.”
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“S he’s on her way.”

Ginny nodded as she zipped up her backpack. “Thank you.” Rising to her feet, she slung
her backpack onto her shoulder. “I’ll wait by the door.”
“Stay by the door. I have to get changed. A parishioner is in the hospital, and they texted me,
asking me to come. I’ll keep you company until she gets here if you’re still here when I’m finished
changing.”
Instead of moving away, she stood, looking at the pastor and trying to find the right way to thank
him for showing her that she wasn’t as stupid as everyone thought she was without making herself
seem lame. Coming up blank, she gave up, going to the door.
“You’re welcome.”
Flushing that her pastor understood what she had been trying to say, Ginny hurried to the front
door. The last thing she wanted to do was keep Lisa waiting.
She had been on pins and needles about keeping her happy since their talk. She had blown it this
afternoon, and she was terrified about what she would do if she made her angry twice in the same
day. The strange thing was that Lisa hadn’t seemed upset. She seemed in a good mood when she
had dropped her off while texting someone on her phone.
The parking lot remained still as she practically pressed her face against the door to look out.
The silence in the church was eerie. The dim lighting left areas in the church encased in shadows,
creating an otherworldly effect that had her shivering at the sudden wave of cold air that hit her,
sending goose bumps up her arms.
Swallowing down a lump of fear, Ginny froze, feeling silly to be afraid in a church. Then, hearing
a sound from the front of the church, she spun around.
Her heart nearly stopped when she saw a shadow pass in front of the cross. She placed her hand
over her mouth to keep from screaming in terror. Frightened, she wanted to run to the pastor’s
office to lock herself inside. However, incomprehensibly, she didn’t. Instead, she took a step
forward, walking up the aisle toward the pulpit.
No one was there.
She could have sworn she had seen someone.
It had been surreal. The way she thought the shadow passed in front of the cross, it looked to
have wings.
Shaken, she tried to take another step forward. Feeling like her knees couldn’t support her
weight, she grabbed the side of a pew to steady herself.
“Is someone there?” she called out, promising herself never to watch another scary movie for the
rest of her life.
The church was so silent she would be able to hear any sound, but she didn’t hear anything.
Shaking her head at herself, Ginny headed back toward the door, feeling foolish. As she did, she
realized the pastor’s door had closed. Taking a step in that direction, she gave a small scream when
the main church door swung open, making her drop her backpack.
“What is taking you so long?” Lisa snapped when she saw her.
“Sorry,” Ginny muttered, bending down to pick up the backpack. “I won’t be a minute. I’ll tell
Pastor Dean I’m leaving.”
The closed door was silently calling for her to open it, propelling her feet forward like a strong
magnet without her direction.
“Now! I don’t have all night. I’ll text him when we get in the car.”
Ginny reluctantly hurried to the door that Lisa was holding open.
“Next time, you can walk home.”
Ginny didn’t argue as she got in the back seat, her mind still on the church. Buckling her seatbelt
without taking her eyes off the church, she wanted to run back inside.
As Lisa pulled the car onto the road, she unzipped her backpack, making sure she had all her
books and notebooks while trying to explain to herself why she felt as if she had left something
important behind.
Three minutes later, Ginny was getting out of the car and heading inside the house. The living
room wasn’t empty; Dalt was watching television. Ginny saw the square glass sitting on the end
table next to him without a coaster underneath. It was everything Ginny could do not to remark on
it.
“How’d it go?” he asked conversationally as she started up the steps.
Her foster father tried to be friendlier toward her than Lisa was, but she had grown to dislike
him even more than her foster mom. The problem was that the Wests really didn’t do anything that
she could tell on them for. Were they nice? Did they provide a home like the ones she was used to?
No. Maybe with a younger child they would be able to bond with them better than they had with
her. She didn’t know. She just kept hoping that one day she would open the door and Silas would be
there to take her home where she belonged.
“Good. The pastor helped me a lot. He said that—”
Ginny could tell he wasn’t even listening. Lisa had gone to the couch to curl up next to her
husband.
She left them alone, going upstairs where she took a shower and got ready for bed. Turning the
light off, she lay down and stared up at the ceiling. Unable to sleep, though, she was about to turn
her light back on and read a book when she heard her doorknob rattling.
Keeping her eyes closed, she pretended to be asleep, knowing it was Lisa. She checked on her
every night before going to bed to make sure she was in bed. Hearing the door close, she then
heard Lisa talking from the other side.
“She’s asleep.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Ginny made a gagging face at hearing them kissing before they went to their bedroom farther
down the short hall.
Rolling onto her stomach to ease her hunger pains, she shoved the pillow under her chin. The
nights were the worst. It was when she missed her dad and Leah the most.
She hated the pretty pink bedroom. The one she had shared with Leah was tiny, and they didn’t
have their own bathroom, yet it was her home. She missed sitting next to him when they watched a
movie and it was her turn. She missed the way he complained when he went to the bathroom and
someone else was already in there. She missed the way he laughed when one of the brothers would
play jokes on each other. There was nothing she hadn’t loved about him or Leah. She hadn’t made
up for losing Trudy, but the time with them had made the waiting for Trudy easier.
She forced the tears back, afraid Lisa would notice stains on the pillowcase in the morning when
she watched her make her bed.
Tossing and turning, she fell in a fitful sleep, dreaming about a dark angel that was chasing her.
Desperately trying to outrun him, she found herself swooped into his arms. Terrified, she had tried
to see his face but couldn’t make out his obscured features. Screaming in terror, she then abruptly
stopped, sensing he wasn’t going to hurt her. When she was no longer afraid of him, he gently
lowered her back to her bed as the dream faded into a dreamless, deep sleep that had her ignoring
the shrill of the alarm clock on her nightstand.
“Turn that damn thing off!”
Abruptly jerked awake at the loud shout, Ginny sluggishly looked toward the doorway as Dalt
belligerently crossed the floor to stand beside her bed, impatiently waiting until she turned the
clock off.
Lisa was the only one who came into her room. Dalt had never come in there before, and she
didn’t like that he was there. As much as she despised Lisa, she would put up with her a million
times a day rather than him.
“Get dressed. I’m driving you to school today.”
Normally, Dalt was nice to her, even if he ignored her most of the time. His obvious irritation had
her cautiously staying still.
“Okay. I’ll hurry,” she said, trying to placate him.
Satisfied at her quick reply, Dalt gave her a sharp nod.
Waiting for him to leave before quietly tiptoeing to the door, Ginny hastily locked it before
getting dressed. Throwing on jeans and a blue shirt as fast as she could, she ran a brush through
her lackluster brown hair. She didn’t know if she should make her bed or rush downstairs. Twisting
her hands together, she went to her desk to grab her backpack, then hurried downstairs where Dalt
was waiting for her by the front door.
Her grumbling stomach was going to have to wait until lunchtime. She was too afraid to set him
off again by asking for breakfast.
Settled in the back seat, Ginny felt uncomfortable being alone with him after the way he acted
this morning.
She wished the dark angel who had carried her away during the night hadn’t brought her back.
If she ever got out of Lisa and Dalt’s house, she promised herself that she would do whatever she
wanted and not have to listen to anyone about where she could live. She would buy a big house, find
Trudy, and she would definitely not have a coaster anywhere in their home. She wasn’t a little girl
anymore; she didn’t believe in happy ever afters. Losing Leah had taught her that.
Leah hadn’t gotten her happy ending, Ginny thought to herself, and she didn’t think she would
either.
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN

G avin soundlessly opened the church’s back door, then edged inside to make sure no one could
see him as he closed the door behind him. He hadn’t told Lucky he was coming, wanting to
keep their meeting private.
The last nine months in Treepoint had flown by. He kept his word to Taylor, driving back and
forth from Kentucky to Ohio every weekend. The wedding was a month away and she was
pressuring him to decide on his groomsmen and his wedding guests; so far, he hadn’t reached out to
heal the breach between him, Viper, Rider, and the club.
He would have apologized months ago for his hot-headed reaction that had him giving his jacket
back, but the reason he hadn’t was why he sneaking in the back door to talk to Lucky. During
Gavin’s time in Treepoint, Memphis had been a frequent visitor. He’d helped out checking
deliveries, making sure that the construction crews arrived on time, and staying at the inn—making
sure none of the construction materials were stolen.
Gavin had been so busy overseeing the construction, he’d only allocated a twenty-minute
morning meeting with Memphis each day to discuss the day’s activities. It was an arrangement that
had worked, Gavin feeling that he was able to maintain his distance from The Last Riders, and
Memphis being the one to update Viper. The fact he’d castigated himself by leaving the club worked
to Memphis’s advantage—not only to line his pockets but to destroy the future of the club and its
members.
Making his way across the front of the church, he froze in place when he heard movement from
the back. Safeguarding his presence, he walked along the back of the pulpit, his feet silent as he
moved to the side door where the choir usually sang.
As he was slipping through the door, he heard someone coming down the aisle. Going into the
office, he closed the door behind him, frustrated that Lucky wasn’t there. He hadn’t wanted to use
his cell phone, and he certainly didn’t want to be seen in the church, not wanting anyone to make a
connection between him and Pastor Dean. He had been able to keep his connection to Pastor Dean a
secret, and the last thing he wanted was to be caught and blow his cover. Only the original members
of The Last Riders knew that Pastor Dean was actually Lucky, and Gavin wanted to keep it that way.
Deciding to call Lucky, he had just taken his phone out when he suddenly and explicably wanted
to open the door. His senses went on alert. Every bone in his body called out to him to expose what
was on the other side.
Wanting to know who it was, he reached for the doorknob, started to twist it, when he heard a
scream on the other side, followed by sharp voice.
“What is taking you so long?” a female snapped.
Gavin couldn’t make out the next muttered words, but he could plainly hear the other one who
didn’t care that she was raising her voice in a church.
“Now! I don’t have all night. I’ll text him when we get in the car. Next time, you can walk home.”
No longer able to ignore the surge of protection that was storming through his body, Gavin
jerked the door open, finding the entryway empty. Heading to the main door, he looked out, seeing
the back of a woman who he didn’t recognize and a young girl carrying a backpack while rushing to
keep up. His gaze focused on the slight figure of the girl getting in the back seat of the car.
Instead of going back to Lucky’s office, he waited expectantly to see the girl’s face, telling
himself that he just wanted to make sure she was okay. But deep down, the protectiveness he was
experiencing unsettled him.
“Gavin, what are you doing here?”
Startled, he turned around to see Lucky had come up behind him. “Losing my fucking mind,” he
was finally able to get out. No one had been able to sneak up behind him since his early days in the
service.
“What?” Lucky looked at him strangely, confirming that he had gone crazy.
Ruefully shaking off the strange feeling, he took a last look out to see the car’s taillights as it
pulled out of the parking lot.
 “Did you need to talk to me about something?”
Gavin was grimly reminded of what he needed to discuss with Lucky. “You have a few minutes?”
“Not many. A parishioner’s family is waiting.”
“This won’t take long.”
Together, they went into Lucky’s office. Gavin didn’t talk until he closed the door.
“I don’t want you calling or texting me anymore.”
“Why?” Lucky asked, taking a seat behind his desk.
Gavin had his suspicions that the pipeline Lucky was investigating was going to hit The Last
Riders close to home. He had no intention of alerting Lucky until he could prove that two of the men
they called brothers were dirty. To do that, he had to limit his interactions with Lucky. If what he
was thinking was true, there could be more than one brother involved, and he would have easy
access to the communications between him and Lucky. Hell, if it was true, not only would Lucky be
in danger, but the other agents on the case would be as well.
“I’ll let you know in a couple of days,” Gavin hedged.
“That’s it? I think we should call Viper and bring more brothers—”
“No!” That was the last thing they needed. If he or Lucky called and asked for more help, Gavin
was worried it would be a red flag to Memphis and the other Last Rider he was trying to expose.
They would cover their tracks and he would never be able to prove that they were involved in the
pipeline and stealing from The Last Riders.
If he hadn’t been meticulous at making copies of every contract, they would have gotten away
with it much longer than they were going to. Gavin blamed himself. If he hadn’t been so determined
to prove to Viper that he could handle having the factory built, renovating the inn, and helping
Lucky all by himself, Memphis and his accomplice’s shady activities would have been caught before
their treachery resulted in more than just being outed by the club. When the truth came out, it
would be a death sentence to all those involved.
The Last Riders had safeguarded the money they’d invested into building their business. Not only
did they make money by manufacturing and selling survival equipment, but several members held
patents, giving The Last Riders sole rights. Some of those patents were worth big money, which was
why they’d taken out life insurance policies as a way to secure the company if anything happened to
any of original members. It had been his fucking idea, and now he was regretting it. If Memphis was
dirty enough to reassign the patents into his name, then he was dangerous enough to kill for the
policies.
However, it had to take someone with knowledge of computers to forge documents and transfer
the patents to his name. Memphis was useless on a computer, so whoever was helping him was a
professional—he’d have to be in order to keep him or Viper in the dark. Knox and Crash were the
two Last Rider’s with degrees in computer science, and both had the skills and access to the club’s
correspondence.
Gavin would have the proof in a couple of days. He requested a copy of the transfer documents
showing Memphis’s name on the patent. When he received it, he would have proof and would go to
the club to talk to Viper, who he hadn’t talked to since their argument. The club was having a
meeting this weekend, and he had every intention of informing his brother of Memphis’s treachery
and healing the breach that had kept them apart. Until then, he needed to keep Lucky in the dark.
There was too much at stake for either Knox or Crash to be alerted.
“I’ve got everything handled for now. I’m just being precautious. Viper must be rubbing off on
me.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.” Trying to erase the worry in Lucky’s gaze, he changed the subject. “Going to Ohio on
Friday. You want to tag along for the ride?”
“Don’t tempt me. I’m beginning to forget what my motorcycle looks like.”
Gavin could sympathize. When he left The Last Riders, not only had he given his jacket back but
he had given up his motorcycle, the one he’d waited to buy until Viper left the service. He
eventually bought a new one, but it didn’t hold the same meaning to him.
“Then come,” he urged. “Tell your parishioners you need a sabbatical or something for the
weekend. You can stay at with me and Taylor if you’re afraid the club might be too much temptation
for you.”
Lucky might be an undercover DEA agent, but the moment his friend had accepted the
assignment and resumed being a pastor again, he had remained celibate. He took his vows
seriously. That was why, when he had doubts about his ability to serve, he stepped away to give
himself time to make his decision about a future without the church.
Gavin understood Lucky’s dilemma, being torn between his beliefs while wanting the freedom he
wouldn’t have as a pastor. Gavin was torn between The Last Riders and Taylor. Neither fit together
like he thought they should. As his wedding grew closer, he was doubting they ever would,
especially if he healed the rift with Viper, which he planned to do. The Last Riders wouldn’t be the
only ones he would have a straightforward talk with. Taylor had to be told that he planned to
reinstate his membership, and that if she wanted to break off their engagement he would
understand. Truthfully, Gavin didn’t know if it was last-minute doubts creeping into his mind as the
wedding grew closer, or the truth of Rider’s words coming back to haunt him. He loved Taylor and
wanted to marry her, but he wanted to be upfront that The Last Riders were going to be a part of
their life together.
“I’ll see how the parishioner in the hospital is tonight and tomorrow. I’ll ride there with you, but
I’ll have to be back by Sunday morning.”
“That’s cool. I’d ride back with you, but Taylor set up an appointment for a cake testing on
Sunday. She’ll kick my ass if I don’t go. It makes our fourth go-around at trying to choose. I told her,
if she doesn’t pick one this time, she’s going to get stuck making it herself from a box,” he joked,
not showing any of his doubts to Lucky. “I’ll stop by sometime tomorrow to see if you want to go.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Shaking hands, Gavin went out the back, staying out of sight until he was far enough away from
the church to walk on the sidewalk.
The president of the local bank had arranged for him to stay with his mother-in-law. He jumped
at the opportunity once Vincent Bedford had introduced him to Mrs. Langley. It was within walking
distance of the church and the sheriff’s office, and about a ten-minute ride to the factory he was
overseeing being built.
Letting himself in the large house with his spare key, he walked into the formal living room to see
Mrs. Langley watching a scary movie.
“Want some company?”
“I would love some. Would you like something to eat?”
Gavin took a seat on a chair. “No, thank you. I just had dinner at the diner.”
Seeing the woman was engrossed in her movie, he made no attempt to distract her. His mind
went back to the church before Lucky had appeared. Whoever the young girl was, he felt sorry for
her at being on the receiving end of that woman’s anger. Troubled, he planned to ask Lucky about
them tomorrow.
“Are you up for part two?” Mrs. Langley asked, pointing her remote at the television.
“You sure you won’t have nightmares?” he teased.
“I take a sleeping pill every night. It’d take more than a zombie to wake me.”
“Then go for it.”

G avin wanted to rip the letter he was holding to shreds. Instead, he neatly folded it and put it
back in the envelope that had he’d received by certified mail minutes ago. He had all the proof
he needed to talk to the club now.
He had already figured out Memphis was the one transferring the patents stock into his name;
what he hadn’t known was who was helping him. Gavin hadn’t wanted any doubts about who was
truly responsible. He held the evidence now, and Crash couldn’t argue his innocence. The letter
he’d received held the forged document of Razer signing one of his inventions over to Memphis.
Putting the letter in his glove box, he closed it so hard it sprang back open. Closing it again, he
got out of his rental car, locking it behind him. He just left the factory. If anyone was watching, they
would assume he was on his way to the diner.
Crossing the main street, Gavin pretended interest perusing the shop windows until he could slip
between two building and go the back way to the church. He could still be seen from a few buildings
facing the church, but most of those offices were empty or closed at five on the dot.
Going through the side door, he found Lucky in his office. He raised a questioning brow before
closing the door.
“It’s cool. No one’s here. I have a tutoring session in twenty minutes, though. I’ll just text her to
wait outside or in the church until you leave.”
He sat down on the edge of Lucky’s desk to stare down at him. “So, you tagging along or are you
going to be lame and stay here for the weekend?”
“As much as I want to go, I can’t. The family of the sick parishioner needs me. The doctor told
them he wasn’t going to make it. When I’m finished with the tutoring session, I’m going back to the
hospital to spend the rest of the night with them.”
“Damn, I hate to hear that.”
Lucky cocked his head to the side. “That I’m not going or someone is dying?”
“Both. You’re a good man and an even better pastor.”
Lucky accepted the compliment with a wry smile. “I wish that were true. I have a way to go to
reach your standard.”
Gavin’s head fell back as he laughed. “Brother, I’m as far as you can get from being a pastor.”
“You think so? You have a strong sense of right and wrong. There’s no middle ground for you.
When you love someone, you have the unshakable belief that they share the same sense of right and
wrong as you do. You’ll go that extra mile that no one else would go to prove you’re right. Brother, if
I had your faith, this collar wouldn’t hang so tightly around my neck.”
“Pastor,” Gavin said sincerely, “that collar hangs just fine on you.”
 Sighing, Gavin could see his friend wasn’t convinced. “I better go. If you change your mind, I’ll
stop at the gas station in Jamestown tomorrow morning at ten. I’ll give you thirty minutes to show,
in case you’re running late. You look like you could use some R&R.”
As Lucky was about to reply, they both looked toward the window, hearing someone singing
outside. Gavin felt as if he had just taken a punch to the gut.
“She has a beautiful voice, doesn’t she?” Lucky said, taking his eyes off the window to turn back
toward him.
Gavin couldn’t have answered if his life depended on it.
Standing up from the desk, he walked to the window. He braced his hand on the wall and looked
out.
The girl was sitting on a picnic table with her back to the church. She was singing “In the Arms
of an Angel,” by Sarah McLachlan, and the way she sang held a wealth of pain making him wonder
if she was aware of it. It was hauntingly beautiful and spoke to his soul as if she were directly
speaking to him.
“She was here last night, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, she’s the girl I’m tutoring.”
“Who was the woman with her?”
“You must be talking about her foster mother.”
“She’s a bitch.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Lucky’s rueful voice told of the dislike for the foster mother.
“She’s a good kid.”
“She’d have to be in order to sing like that.” Letting his hand drop, he forced himself to take a
step away from the window, ignoring the whispers of the light wind that was stirring the curtains,
telling him to wait just one more sec—
Feeling ridiculous that he was imagining the wind talking to him and that he was watching a
young girl, he strode away, refusing to look back. He had not an ounce of sexual interest in her. It
was more like sensing … something … Like seeing someone in a grocery store and unable to place a
name or face or why it mattered.
Thinking that he was beginning to feel like he needed a shrink, Gavin turned his focus back on
Lucky. “I’m going to have an early night. Don’t forget I’ll be waiting if you change your mind,” he
said curtly, heading toward the door.
“I’ll walk out with you and keep her occupied until you’re out of sight.”
Going out the side door, he turned in the opposite direction from Lucky, giving him a brief wave
before walking off, not mentioning Memphis, Crash, or what he was planning to tell Viper when he
got to Ohio.
Deciding to return to Mrs. Langley’s house instead of eating his dinner at the diner, Gavin let
himself inside.
Not seeing Mrs. Langley, he went up the stairs to the bedroom she’d given him. Taking a shower,
he pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt before going back downstairs and into the kitchen to make
himself a sandwich.
He sat and was watching television when Mrs. Langley came in, giving an exasperated look at
him eating a sandwich. “I could have made you something better than that.”
“The last time I let you cook for me, I gained five pounds,” he said, getting up to pat his flat belly.
“I need to watch my figure.”
Grinning that he made the grandmother blush, he carried his plate into the kitchen, then came
back to see that she was settling down to watch television. “You better not be watching any scary
movies tonight. I won’t be able to fight the zombies off for you. I need an early night. I’ll be leaving
early tomorrow.”
“Then I’ll watch a documentary and play it safe.”
“You do that,” he said, heading toward the stairs. “Good night.”
“Good night, Gavin.”
Taking the steps two at a time, he went into his room where he tiredly turned the light off, then
sat on the edge of the bed. He texted Memphis that he would be at the factory to watch the
installation of the equipment before leaving for Ohio. He wanted to make sure there weren’t any
issues before he paid them.
Lying back on the bed with a pillow at his back, he hit the number he called every night before
going to bed, frowning when it went to voicemail.
“Hi, babe. Just wanting to say I love you before I go to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you.”
Disconnecting the call, he put his phone on the nightstand.
Yawning, he settled on the mattress, letting his mind go blank. He had set his alarm for six,
planning to get breakfast before going to the factory. The only part he was dreading about this
weekend had nothing to do with apologizing to Viper and everything about having to eat another
cake. If he never ate another piece of cake again, he would be happy.
 CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“P astor Dean is in his office with a parishioner. He said you can wait inside the church or sit
on the picnic table until he’s ready for you. I have a nail appointment and I can’t keep
Sherrie waiting. The pastor will text me when you’re done. If it’s not dark, you can walk home. If it
is, Dalt will pick you up. Make sure you don’t keep him waiting like you did me.”
“I won’t.” Ginny got out of the car and was barely a step away before Lisa drove off, leaving her
alone in the parking lot.
Deciding to enjoy the freedom of being alone, she went through the gate leading into the
playground area. Setting her backpack on the picnic table, Ginny climbed on the top and took out
her radio and headphones, putting them in her ears. With her back to the church, she then took out
her homework folder and started working on the first problem.
Unconsciously, she began singing along with the song playing in her ears. Losing track of time, it
was only when she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle that she looked up and stopped
singing. Tugging one of her earbuds out to hang limply so she could hear, Ginny had the eerie
feeling of being watched. Had Pastor Dean called her name?
Closing her folder and putting it back in the backpack, she jumped off the picnic table and
headed toward the church. As she came around the corner, she saw the pastor walking to her.
“I was just coming to get you,” he greeted her with a broad smile.
Ginny gave him a confused frown. “I thought I heard you call for me.”
“No, one of the windows in my office overlooks the picnic table. You probably heard us
complimenting your singing. You have a lovely voice.”
Ginny paled. She hadn’t been aware of anyone listening. She hadn’t sung in front of anyone since
Trudy.
“The choir could use a voice like yours,” he said persuasively.
She shook her head.
“Why not?” He stared at her quizzically as they went inside the church.
Because he was a pastor, she didn’t lie. “I don’t like to sing in front of other people.”
“You have stage fright?”
“If that means I don’t like to sing in front of other people, then yes.” When she was little, she had
loved singing to anyone who would listen. She hadn’t had a shy bone in her body. Manny had snuck
his radio in often, getting in trouble with her parents when they were caught.
“The best part of belonging to a group is that it’s not about the individual. It’s just a suggestion,
but you could go to choir practice and see if you like it before you close the door completely on
something you obviously enjoy,” Pastor Dean advised as he rearranged the chair in front of his desk
to sit next to his. “It couldn’t hurt.”
Ginny thought it over. She did enjoy singing. “No, it wouldn’t hurt,” she admitted, having no
intention of taking him up on his offer. Just the thought of singing in front of others had her wanting
to excuse herself to go to the bathroom to puke her guts out.
“We have a choir camp with other churches during the summer. It would give you something to
do besides being stuck in the house.”
She paused at unpacking her bag. Anything that got her out of Lisa and Dalt’s house was better
than being stuck with them.
“When do they practice?”
“Wednesday and Friday evenings until school lets out for the summer. You can ask Lily Cornett
for the summer camp’s schedule.”
“I will. I don’t know if the Wests will let me go, though.”
“Would you like me to talk to them?”
She unconsciously bit down on her bottom lip. Would that make them angry at her? She learned
the best way to get along with the couple was to make the least demands on their time or patience.
“No, don’t do that. If I decide to do it, I’ll talk to them about it.” It was better to be on the safe
side with them. If it made them angry, they would turn Pastor Dean down and make her pay for him
asking.
The pastor opened the book where they had left off before lifting troubled eyes to hers. “How is
it going with the Wests being your foster parents? Are you happy?”
Ginny sat on the chair, seeing that the pastor was concerned and sincerely wanting to help. As
much as she wanted to confide in him, she knew she wouldn’t. She knew Lisa would be vindictive if
she felt like Ginny was bad-mouthing her. It had taken Lisa and Dalt flipping out on her to
understand why Silas was trying so hard to keep his younger brothers—he didn’t want the same
thing happening to them that was happening to her.
The thought of gentle Moses having to live with people like the Wests sent a cold shiver down her
back. She might not like living with them, but she’d deal with it until she was old enough to get
away. Moses didn’t deserve being taken from his family. He belonged; she didn’t.
“It’s going fine.” Unable to meet his eyes, she picked up her pencil. “Did I work the problem
right?”
Their eyes dueled in silent battle for her to tell the truth. Staring back at him blankly as if she
wasn’t getting the silent message he was trying to give her, she could see the sympathy in his gaze
and wanted to tell him she didn’t deserve it.
Her dad and Leah deserved his sympathy. What had happened to them wasn’t their fault. She
was the only one responsible for being at the Wests’ mercy. Just her. And as much as she regretted
it, she couldn’t take back the day that was becoming less clear as she grew older.
She had been born on Clindale Island. Her earliest memory was of her tucked into her mother’s
lap as she sat on the white sand with the water lapping over them. She remembered clapping her
hands, then calling for the water to come back when it ebbed out. She could still hear the distant
memory of her mother’s laughter when she had started clapping when it had come back. Her father,
wanting in on the game, laughingly swung her into his arms and carried her into the water, with
Trudy and their mother running with them.
Her father had taught her how to swim before she could walk. It was a magical place that
became her playground. By the time she was walking, it was difficult for her parents to keep up
with her. She always darted away from them to play in her magical playground. Her mother had her
hands full teaching children and adults to speak and write in English, and her father was just as
busy building a water system for the small island.
Trudy was too young to take the responsibility of watching her, so they had turned to one of her
mother’s older students. He had become her best friend as Trudy had been expected to take classes
with the children that her mother taught and was no longer able to spend the majority of the day
with her.
Looking back, the teenager had been as much a part of her family as she and Trudy. She had
loved Manny like a big brother. He let her run wild on the beach, swam with her, and was the one
who taught her how to sing. He clapped for her when she remembered the words to songs.
In hindsight, she could look back and see the difference between Silas and Manny, neither had
been related by blood, but one had been a true brother to her and the other had used her affection
and innocence against her. It didn’t make her love Manny less, but as she had grown older the love
she felt came with a clear-sightedness, allowing her to see through the eyes of experience and not
those of the innocent child she’d been.
Gradually, Manny had built her parents’ trust and was allowed to take her exploring farther into
the island. That was when she saw the village where her mother’s students lived, and the moment
she truly fell in love with the people who loved her and her family with open hearts. They didn’t live
in the buildings that her father and his crew built. Theirs were smaller with dirt floors and thatched
roofs. She sat on the floor and played happily with the younger children who were like her and
weren’t old enough to go to school. She stayed with them until Manny carried her sleeping form
back to the compound her father built.
One day, she remembered playing with Manny’s baby brother, when their father, Gyi excitedly
came into the hut to tell them “they were back.” Ginny hadn’t understood who was back until
Manny’s older brother, Lagi, carried her outside and to the beach on the opposite side of the island.
“What are those?”
“Those are yachts,” Manny answered.
She remembered being memorized by the beautiful boats that were unlike any she had seen
before.
“I want to see.”
Lagi shook his head at her, pointing at a large island farther away from the beach they were
standing on. “They aren’t coming here. They’re going to Sherguevil Island.”
“I want to go.”
“Maybe your parents will take you,” Lagi said, setting her down on the sand, then moving away
to talk excitably to his father.
Evangeline wanted to go for a ride on one of the beautiful boats. “Want to go,” she pleaded to
Manny, tugging on his shorts.
He squatted down next to her and lowered his voice. “I’ll get in trouble if I take you.”
“Won’t tell, I promise.” She raised her hand to her heart like she did when Trudy wanted her to
promise her to do something.
Manny looked at his father before lowering his voice again. “I’ll take you tomorrow, but you can’t
tell the other children we’ll be going. I’ll try to sneak you on board, but you can’t tell anyone.”
“I promise,” she said, about to raise her hand again. “Can I tell Trudy?”
“She’ll tell, then I can’t take you,” he warned.
She looked over the water toward the beautiful boat, then put her hand back on her heart. “I
promise.”
Manny repeated the gesture, placing his hand over his heart. “Then I promise to take you.”
He had taken her home then, and she could still remember how she had so innocently looked
forward to being on the boat, even managing to talk Manny into letting her get on the biggest one.
Looking back now, Ginny just wanted to grit her teeth at how young and innocent she had been
to let beauty blind her from doing what her parents wouldn’t have wanted her to do. She wasn’t
supposed to keep secrets, yet she had kept quiet, hugging her parents and Trudy before taking
Manny’s hand and leaving. She even remembered her mother complaining to Manny about so many
students being absent; she’d given him a warning look that young Evangeline hadn’t understood at
the time. When she and Manny left, she’d been unaware of the complex maze she was about to
enter—one she still hadn’t been able to find her way out of.
He had taken her the normal way to the other beach, taking a trail that allowed them to hear the
villagers, but kept her and Manny hidden.
“Wait here.”
Manny left the jungle, and just when she started to get scared at being left alone, he returned.
“You have to be play hide and seek when we get on the boat. I’ll hide you, and you have to be
very quiet until I tell you it’s okay to come out.”
“Okay,” she innocently agreed.
Manny picked her up and carried her the rest of the way through the jungle, coming out to the
beach she had been at the day before.
Her eyes widened when she saw there were even more boats. “They so pretty,” she said,
awestruck.
“Yes, they are.”
Evangeline looked at Manny. He didn’t sound like he thought they were pretty. When he caught
her staring at him, his expression lightened as he put a finger to his lips, silently telling her she had
to be quiet.
Walking with her, Manny stepped onto the dock, then stopped when they came to a boat. Putting
her on his shoulders, he climbed up the ladder, then sat her down on the deck before climbing the
remaining steps up before dropping down beside her. They walked across the deck to another
ladder and climbed down to the floor below. Manny took them to a large white box with a big
mattress on top. He lifted the mattress and motioned for her to climb inside the stowage/bunk.
Getting inside, he then put a pillow under her head. “Remember, be very quiet.”
Nodding, she tried not to be scared as he closed the bunk. Then she heard the sound of
children’s loud voices and relaxed, thinking it was a game of hide and seek and one of her friends
would find her. Curling onto her side, she put her hand over her mouth to keep them from hearing
her laugh.
She must have fallen asleep, because she was barely aware of Manny lifting her out of her hiding
space, then helping her walk up the small steps to the deck. There were three small children her
age and Lagi, whose eyes widened when he saw her.
“Gyi will punish you for bringing her.”
“Not when he sees what she can do. Are you going to tell?”
Evangeline only half-listened to the brothers argue in their native language, and instead gaped at
the beautiful boats that were now much closer. Fixated on them, she went to the side of the boat,
but Manny caught her hand before she could climb down.
“Wait.”
Impatient, she tried to tug her hand away, but Manny wouldn’t let go. “We have to leave and get
back before Gyi.” Manny picked her up and carried her down the ladder as Lagi and the three other
children followed them.
Disappointed, Evangeline noticed they were getting farther away from the boats, not closer as
Manny stepped off the dock. She was going to complain to him, but then the people sunbathing on
the beach under huge colorful things she had never seen before caught her interest. They didn’t
have those on her beach. She wanted one.
Evangeline pointed at one. “Can I have one?”
“No.” Manny moved away from the people sitting on the beach to a path she hadn’t seen before.
His feet didn’t sink into the sand.
Going up the path, they passed buildings that were even bigger than the ones on the beach.
“Wanna see!”
“Stop it, Evangeline. We’re not allowed in there.”
Her mouth drooped in disappointment as she tried to think of a way to get Manny to change his
mind.
 She was about to cry for not being able to go inside the pretty buildings when Manny led her off
the path to a magical place she had never seen before. Brightly colored stands were situated along
a stretch of road. Groups of men and women were going to the stands and picking what they wanted
from them. Each one had something different. Some had bins of fruits, some fresh fish, but the ones
that interested her had jewelry hanging along the sides, catching the colorful light as they spun.
“Want one!”
“No.”
The children and Lagi formed a circle around them as Manny set her on her feet, then squatted
down beside her.
“We don’t have any money to buy anything,” he explained, lowering his voice.
“Money?”
“The tourists use it to get what they want to buy.”
“Want some.”
“We all do, but we have to get it first.”
“How?” she asked, determined to buy one of the flashy necklaces.
“We try to talk them into giving us some.”
“How?”
“You know how you sing to Gyi and Lagi?”
She nodded eagerly.
“If they like it enough, they’ll give you money. Then we can all buy something.”
Ginny remembered wanting to buy everyone something, too.
Manny turned her to face the crowd of tourists. “Sing the song you sang to Gyi yesterday.”
She eagerly started singing, not paying attention to Manny nodding at Lagi and the other
children before they disappeared in the crowd. Wanting to buy the necklaces, she sang the song just
like she had the day before.
At first, none of the tourists looked at her, then they gradually drew closer, smiling down at her.
She loved singing in front of anyone. That so many wanted to listen to her had her smiling back up
at them.
“She’s adorable,” she heard one woman say.
“She’s so talented.”
“I just want to take her home with me,” another cooed.
She gripped Manny’s hand. She didn’t want to go home with the woman.
When her song ended, she placed her hand on her waist and bowed the way Trudy had taught
her when she sang for her. The tourists laughed and clapped, which made her want to do it again so
they would clap again.
“Sing another one,” Manny hissed between his teeth.
She immediately started again as Manny laid a cloth on the ground in front of her and the
tourists dropped coins and colored bits of paper down onto it. She instinctively knew this was the
money that Manny had told her about.
When she finished and bowed again, even more money showered down on the cloth.
Manny had her sing three more songs before folding the cloth, then picked it and her up. “We
have to go. Gyi will be returning to the boat,” he told her, starting to move away.
“I want my necklace,” she wailed.
Manny turned back to the stall, tilting her to the side so she could see. “Pick one.”
She already knew which one she wanted. With her little hand, she reached for the shiniest one.
Juggling her, Manny opened the cloth and took out one of the bills to pay for it. She wasn’t done,
though; she reached out to take three more. Manny gave her an exasperated look but took out three
more bills to hand to the person behind the stall.
Content, she stared at the necklaces in awe. They were the most beautiful things she had ever
seen. Almost as beautiful as the boat.
As they walked back to the boat, Lagi and the three children ran up behind them to follow. No
one talked until they were back on the boat and down the steps in the deck below.
Manny set her on the bunk this time, not in it, and the three children swarmed around her to see
what she had.
Taking one that had a purple stone, she gave it to Fini. The one with the blue, she gave to Nati.
Then she gave the one with the black stone to Fetu, keeping the one with the red stone for herself.
She hung it around her neck as they excitedly compared them all.
As they did, Lagi started taking objects out of his pockets.
Her attention distracted from the necklaces, Evangeline watched curiously as several items
caught her eye. One had her reaching out, and Manny hastily grabbed her wrist.
“No, Evangeline.”
“Want it,” she begged, trying to pull her hand free.
“You can’t have it. It’s Gyi’s.”
“But I want it,” she argued.
“We have to share. You only shared your part.”
“Want more.”
 Manny and Lagi laughed at her, then their eyes turned fearful.
“He’s back,” Lagi warned, going to the bottom of the steps before coming back to the bunk to
shove the objects back into his pockets.
Quickly, Manny lifted her up as Lagi rushed the other children above deck.
Finding herself lowered back into her hiding spot, she started to tell him that she didn’t want to
play hide and seek anymore, when Manny pressed a finger pressed to her lips to stop her.
Nodding, she lay back and started playing with her necklace. She didn’t know how long she hid
there, only that she was getting sleepy again. When the mattress was finally lifted again, she saw
Manny’s face.
“Show Trudy?” she asked, twirling the stone hanging from the chain in her hand to watch it
sparkle.
“If you show Trudy, I won’t be able to take you back,” he said, carrying her above to the empty
deck.
Her smile dropped. “Wanna go back. Didn’t ride the boat.”
Taking her off the boat, he waited until they were on the footpath back to her home before
talking. “If you want to go back, we need to hide your necklace so they won’t know I took you to
Sherguevil.”
She pressed her necklace to her chest, unwilling to take it off.
“Your parents won’t let you keep it.”
She shook her head at him. “It’s mine.”
“Yes, it’s yours, and I want you to keep it. That’s why I want you to hide it,” he coaxed.
“Okay.” Taking it off, she held the necklace in her hand. “Where?”
“Let’s find a spot just for you.”
Loving her new game, she searched around the jungle, but came up blank.
“Here. You can put it here.” Manny placed her down, then took the cloth out of his shorts.
Untying the knot, he shoved his money back into his pocket. “Put it in here.”
Evangeline laid her treasure onto the cloth, then watched Manny retie it with a knot. Taking her
hand, he then headed the short distance to the beach where she lived. Stopping at a small building
that her father and his workers had built, Manny looked around, making sure no one was watching
them before sneaking her inside. He then took a small pocketknife from his pocket and pried one of
the floorboards up and dropped the cloth inside before closing it again. Shoving a box over the
board, he grinned at her.
“No one will find it there.”
Ginny shook her head at her overly trusting three-year-old self at how gullible she had been.
“We need to go. Make sure you don’t tell, or they won’t let you go tomorrow,” he urged little
Evangeline.
“I won’t.”
And she hadn’t caught on to the game. She hadn’t told anyone about the necklace, or the other
necklaces that she had asked for when he took her back to the bordering island. Cringing inside
that she hadn’t told her parents how he had taught her to steal—just like the other children had
been trained to do. Using her as the singer to divert the tourists’ attentions, they hadn’t noticed the
eagle-eyed, tiny bodied pickpockets. Once the children divested them of their cash—or whatever
was in their pockets and handbags—they handed it over to Lagi, in case one of the children were
caught. It was a well-organized theft ring, and three-year-old Evangeline had no idea she was being
used as a decoy. Until it was too late.
So, she didn’t deserve Pastor Dean’s sympathy. She had spent most of her life living a lie
pretending to be someone else with everyone trying to protect her. Manny hadn’t been the only one
to manipulate her. The memories of her parents were the most painful. Children were born with the
innate ability to love their parents, regardless of who they were, their income, or their physical
beauty. A child’s love was with their whole heart. It was on that last horrible day at Sherguevil
Island when she discovered the truth. Her parents, whom she’d loved with every beat of her childish
heart, had been just as fake as the red stone hanging from that tarnished chain. If living with the
Wests made it possible for her to reclaim a portion of her life, enabling her to hide in plain sight
from those who had to believe she was dead, then she would remain living there with a fake smile
plastered on her face—just like Lisa.
Pointing at the problem again, Ginny was determined to steer Pastor Dean from the truth about
the Wests. “Am I right?”
He unhappily gave up. “Yes, you’re right. If you continue at this pace, you’ll be tutoring me in a
couple of weeks.”
“I doubt that.” She didn’t believe him, but it did give her the spark of confidence that she
desperately needed.
“Of course, that doesn’t mean that you’ll be able to stop coming to church.”
“No, Pastor, I won’t. I promise I’ll be here every Sunday. Rain or shine.”
“The sun is always shining when I give a sermon; you just have to look to find it.”
Ginny stared at the pastor pitifully. “Pastor, your sermons are good,” she said, trying hard not to
hurt his feelings but wanting to be truthful in God’s house, “but they aren’t that good.”
G inny placed the wet umbrellas in the stand beside the front door of the church as the Wests
went ahead of her to take a seat, since Pastor Dean’s sermon had already begun.
Seeing the Wests were sitting at the end of a pew that had no seats left, she was relieved. She
hadn’t wanted to sit next to them anyway. Looking at the back of the heads of the parishioners,
Ginny searched for one, wanting to avoid the same pew as the sheriff. Not seeing him, she found a
seat in a pew that wasn’t full.
Sitting down, she was opening her Bible when someone edged into the pew she was on. She
glanced up but only saw the woman’s back. Concentrating on finding the correct page, she didn’t
look up when the woman sat down next to her.
“Excuse me. Could you scoot over? He wants to sit down.”
Ginny lifted her eyes to slowly double take, recognizing it was Trudy staring back at her. As she
scooted over to make room, she then turned and saw the sheriff waiting to sit down. Scooting over
farther toward Trudy, she wanted to hug her and burst into tears. However, a small shake of Trudy’s
head stopped her.
Ginny bit her lip to hold back her tears as the sheriff sat down next to her. Thanking him with her
eyes before glancing back to Trudy, she was afraid she would disappear in the brief time she had
looked away.
Her sister placed her hand down on the pew next to her thigh with her palm raised. Ginny looked
directly at the pastor as he gave his sermon with tears in her eyes, as she laid her hand down on
Trudy’s.
At her next tutoring session, she was going to have to take back what she told the pastor. She
had seen the sun through the rain during his sermon.
 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

G avin rolled over to look at the clock, seeing it was 3:04 in the morning. Groaning that he was
awake and wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, he blamed himself for going to bed so early.
That was when his senses went on alert, hearing the creak of the floorboards outside his door.
He knew it wasn’t Mrs. Langley since her hip problem made it difficult to navigate the steps.
Besides, she had a cleaner to help keep the second floor orderly, and no cleaning service was
coming up the stairs in the middle of the night.
“Fuck.” Cursing to himself for leaving his gun in the car, he jumped out of bed and grabbed his
cell phone as he rushed the door.
He didn’t make it before it flew open.
He was stunned for a split second at the two men standing in the doorway, recognizing who they
were with the hall light illuminating their features. That split second cost him.
Memphis was there, but that wasn’t what had him taking that second. It was the man beside him.
Vincent Bedford, Mrs. Langley’s son-in-law. Had something happened to her and she called him to
help her? Instead of reacting immediately, Gavin waited to see what they wanted, not initially
realizing they were threats to his safety.
When Vincent’s hand reached out to turn the light on, he realized his second mistake too late;
weaponless he should have used the darkness to his advantage. If a recruit in the club had made the
same mistake, he would have fucked him up into the next day.
Using his thumb without looking down at his hand, he hoped neither man noticed the action as
he braced himself for what the men would do next.
“Memphis—” Gavin began, trying to find a way of talking the brother out whatever plan he had
conspired with Vincent, though he could tell it was going to be a useless endeavor.
“I would keep the fuck quiet if you don’t want that old bitch dead.” Memphis jerked his head
toward Vincent. “Give him your phone.” The man he called brother raised the gun in his hand,
showing he was serious, but Gavin had no intention of giving up the phone pressing nine, then one,
one. It might take time for the dispatcher to find where the call originated, but it provided a small
chance of survival, which was looking slimmer with the gun Memphis had trained on him.
“You want the phone, you motherfuckers can come and get it,” Gavin snarled.
Memphis’s lips curled up in a sarcastic smile. “I’m not stupid.”
“I don’t know about that. You’re dumb enough for me to find out you’ve been switching the
patents into your name. If anything happens to me, Viper will know it’s you.”
Memphis kept the gun trained on him, while Vincent went to the doorway and looked outside
worriedly.
“Viper doesn’t know shit.” Memphis’s grin turned triumphant. “I’m still breathing, aren’t I? I
found the letter in your glove box. Damn, Gavin, I should have been the one who joined the SEALs.
I’ve known every move you made in the last month. The only thing you’ve done right is kept your
mouth closed to Lucky. The brother won’t even know you saved his life, but we will, won’t we?”
Gavin frowned. He thought Memphis was about to kill him, yet the way he was talking it sounded
as if he had other plans.
“Hurry up!” Vincent moved from the doorway to Memphis’s side. “We need to get out of here.”
“Playtime’s over, Gavin. Put your hands behind your back.”
“No.”
“Just remember, I tried to do this the easy way. Go ahead.”
Gavin immediately recognized what Bedford took out of his coat pocket. His only option left was
to charge Memphis.
He was an inch away from him, before falling to his knees then to his side, twitching.
“Tase him again,” Memphis barked. “I want to make sure he’s not able to break my neck when I
put the cuffs on him.”
Gavin felt another shock of electricity flow through his body, helpless and unable to do anything
but lie on the floor as his body rebelled against the current.
 “That’s enough.” Memphis handed the gun to Bedford. “If he touches me, shoot him.”
Rushing to where he was lying on the floor, Memphis jerked his hands behind his back before the
charge wore off. When feeling started coming back, Gavin tried to twist out of Memphis’s hold, only
to have a boot press down on his back, holding him immobile and unable to stop Memphis from
handcuffing him. When he was done, Memphis flipped him onto his back.
“You’re a dead man.” It was Memphis’s only warning.
Pressing his back for traction, Gavin swung his legs up, circling Memphis’s head in a headlock.
Twisting his hips and using the strength in his legs, he forced Memphis down to the floor.
Tightening his thigh muscles, he began cutting off Memphis’s oxygen.
Memphis flailed like a fish, trying to break his hold on him by trying to pry his legs off. Gavin
tightened his legs even tighter as he stared up at Bedford, waiting for his reaction, and praying that
Memphis would pass out or he could break his fucking neck before Bedford reacted.
He was prepared for another current or for Bedford to shoot him, but he didn’t do either.
Instead, he rushed them and brought the side of the gun down on Gavin’s forehead. Despite the
pain, he refused to release Memphis, but it was too intense. Writhing in agony from the hit at the
side of his eye socket, Memphis gained his freedom.
Incapable of movement, he endured Memphis’s kicks to his ribs, knocking the air out of him.
Memphis jerked the gun away from Bedford. “If you weren’t worth more money to me alive, I would
blow your fucking head off.” Gasping for breath, Memphis kicked him again. “Get your shit
together,” he ordered Bedford. “Make sure you don’t leave any of his crap behind.”
Gavin was trying to regain the breath Memphis kept knocking out of his lungs.
“Got it. Let’s go.”
Memphis cruelly kicked him once more before lowering his face to stare down into his eyes.
“Nighty-night.”
Flashing starbursts exploded behind his eyes, making him senseless to what was going on
around him. His jumbled, pain-riddled thoughts couldn’t bring one name or deity to call out to as
Memphis lifted him over his shoulder, the jarring motion finally causing the unconsciousness that
Memphis had been trying so hard to achieve.

I t was another jarring motion that jolted him back to awareness. Keeping his eyes closed, he
listened to the sounds surrounding him while assessing the pain in his body. His head hurt like a
mother, his ribcage wasn’t much better, and he no longer felt the handcuffs around his wrists. There
was a cold, stone floor under him, and he still only had on the thin T-shirt and shorts he had worn to
bed.
His mental evaluation of his injuries over, and not hearing any sounds, he raised his eyelids. He
was in complete darkness. There wasn’t a speck of light giving him any indication of where he was.
He wanted to rise up, but he knew it would set off the pounding of his head even worse. So,
using minimal movements, he levered himself up onto his elbow, biting back the groan of pain from
his ribs. It was everything he could do to remain silent as he finally managed to sit upright. He
wanted to get to his feet, but he didn’t think his body could handle the strain.
Fighting down the instinctive urge to vomit, he forced himself to take shallow breaths to lessen
the pain. The last thing he needed to do was vomit and pass out.
Putting his hand out in the darkness, he didn’t feel anything around him, so he slid his leg to the
side, feeling nothing but the floor. Gavin was debating his next move when a light came on
overhead.
Slowly turning his head toward the sound of someone coming down the steps, he confirmed what
the light revealed. Concrete floor and walls, no windows, a flight of wooden steps. No chance to
escape the blurry outline of a man moving toward him.
The predicament was as bad as it could get, and recognizing the smug face gloating down on
him, Gavin knew Memphis wouldn’t be able to resist spelling it out for him.
“Welcome to your new home away from home.”
Gavin let Memphis have his moment, unwilling to give the fucker the satisfaction of shouting
useless threats that he was incapable of carrying out in the condition he was in. He knew he was
fucked. He didn’t need a fucking spelling bee to figure it out.
Memphis wasn’t going to let him off that easy, though. Using the toe of his boot, he kicked the
bottom of his foot. “Damn, Gavin, I thought you had more fight in you.”
Gritting his teeth, he took the pain, letting it wash through him as Memphis walked around,
enjoying the sight of him in pain. Gavin didn’t even flinch when Memphis spat at him.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, right? A ten-year-old has more fight than you do!” Confident that
he had beaten the fight out him, Memphis roughly smacked at his head. Gavin let him, barely able
to stay upright, feeling as if his brain was swishing inside him, pounding his skull.
“They call you the fucking Reaper?” Harsh laughter followed by swift kick to his ribs had Gavin
wrapping his ribcages in agony as Memphis continued his tirade. “Fucking loser. If The Last Riders
could see you now, they would make me president. Anyone that made you vice president deserves to
have his cut taken away from him.”
Grimacing in agony when Memphis reached out and took a handful of his hair, Gavin pleaded to
Memphis. “Please stop,” he whimpered.
Reveling in the pain he was causing, Memphis bent down to use his hair to tug his head back,
gloating down at him. It was the chance that Gavin had been waiting for.
Bringing the palm of his hand up, he struck Memphis in the windpipe. If he had been at full
strength, it would have killed him. Either way, Gavin would take what he could get, enjoying the
satisfaction in sending Memphis to his ass, clutching his throat.
Determined to beat the fuck out of the betraying bastard, he gave the rage he’d been holding
back free rein to extract retribution. He disregarded the pain it would cause him, and threw himself
on Memphis, intent on ripping his treacherous throat out.
“Whoa, Reaper!” Rough hands landed on his shoulders, pulling him off Memphis.
Finding himself staring at three men gathered around him, waiting for him to go for Memphis
again, Gavin was forced to allow Memphis to scoot away from his reach. Two of the men Gavin
didn’t recognize. It was the other one who had him clenching his hands into fists.
“Slate.”
The muscular man had served twelve months before being discharged for bad conduct. Two of
those months, Slate spent in a military prison, thanks to Gavin testifying against him.
“Long time, no see, Reaper,” Slate mocked, squatting down in front of him as the other two men
moved to stand on each side of him, waiting to hold him back if he made a move toward Slate.
“Not long enough.”
“I can understand you feeling that way. I haven’t pulled out the welcome wagon for you, but
that’s Memphis’s fault. You’re no use to me all busted up. But what can I say? I have to work with
what I have.”
Slate turned his blond head toward the wooden steps. “Ink!”
Gavin saw booted feet coming down the steps at Slate’s yell.
“What you need, Slate?”
“Get dumbass out of here before Reaper has another go at him. Next time, I might not stop him.”
“Sure thing.”
Feeling malevolent, Gavin watched Ink help Memphis to his feet, practically carrying him up the
narrow steps.
Gavin didn’t turn his attention back to Slate until he snapped his fingers in front of his face.
“Now, I know you want to kill his bitch ass, but I can’t let you do that. As much as I want to do it
myself, we’ll just have to control ourselves, won’t we?”
Giving Slate the full force of his hostility, now that Memphis was gone, Gavin said, “Why don’t we
see how brave you are without your buddies? But we already know how that would end, don’t we?”
“That’s not nice. Here I am, being all friendly, and you just have to bring up past bullshit. Oh
well, I tried.” Standing, Slate walked around him.
Gavin didn’t trust him behind his back, but before he could get his protesting ribs to let him turn,
Slate had him in a headlock, and the man on his left plunged a needle into his arm.
As soon as he succeeded in plunging whatever it was into him, they released him.
Slate walked back around to face him. “There. That should make you more amenable.”
“You know you’re a dead man, don’t you?”
“Who’s going to do the job? Certainly not you. Viper? None of The Last Riders even know you’re
missing yet, and when they do, the Road Demons won’t even be on their radar. Personally, I don’t
think they’ll give a fuck. Have they even tried to talk to you since you gave your cut back?”
Finding out Memphis filled Slate in on what had gone down between him and the club wasn’t a
shocker. The fault lay squarely on his shoulders, and Memphis used the opportunity to hand him
over on a plate.
“What did you give me?”
“Wait and see. I think you’re going to enjoy the plans I have for you. I know I am.” Cutting his
gaze away from his, he looked at the men behind him. “Hock, when he’s ready, you and Brewer
bring him upstairs.”
“Will do,” the bigger of the two replied.
“I’ll get Ink and Chain to set up a bed for him. We can’t have our guest sitting on the floor.”
Gavin tried to analyze if he would be able to take on the men left behind as Slate went upstairs,
but he had trouble centering his thoughts. He tried to force himself to stay awake, but the more he
tried, the sleepier he became. Unable to stay upright, he felt himself slumping backward. Hock and
Brewer became blurring images as he stared up at them.
Laying his hand on the cold floor, he tried to push himself up again. It was a wasted effort. One of
the men raised his foot to shove him back down again when he was halfway up.
Not willing to give in to the oblivion of the drug, Gavin tried to get up again.
“Damn, how is he still moving?” he heard one say.
“Don’t know. But we better tell Slate to give him a higher dosage next time.”
“Or we can do it the old-fashioned way.”
 A fist to his cheekbone did what the drug hadn’t been able to do, leaving him unable to move or
gather his jumbled thoughts.
“Let me have a turn.”
Defenseless, Gavin was forced to stare down into the abyss of hell that Memphis, Crash, and
Bedford opened. And with his last clear thought, he thought, the nightmare is just beginning.
 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“A h … here’s my new bitch.”

Gavin desperately tried to fight off whatever they injected into him. The blows to his head
were making the battle even harder. He didn’t know which one was responsible for muddling his
mind and stealing his willpower so that he could stay awake to find a way to escape.
Someone heaved his limp body over his shoulder, and carried him up the steps, then dropped him
onto something soft. His mind was too confused to distinguish one face from another, voices
merging together.
When he heard a woman’s voice, he could tell the difference. “You sure he won’t hurt me?” the
woman asked.
“I gave him enough that he couldn’t hurt a fly if he wanted to.”
Gavin felt a hand touch his shoulder, shaking his body.
“See?” The mocking voice hurt his head as badly as having his body jostled. “Ink, get his clothes
off while I set up the equipment. Butcher, check him out when Ink’s done. I don’t want him croaking
off. He’s not worth shit if he’s dead.”
Gavin heard a groan coming from inside his chest, but he wasn’t aware of making the sound, nor
did he feel his clothes being removed from his body, only that they had been when he felt the cold
air on his chest.
“Holy mother,” the woman purred. “He’s going to make us a shit load of money.”
“Yes, he will,” Slate gloated. “How’s he doing, Butcher? He going to live?”
“Not if he takes another hit to the head. Find somewhere else to hit him. His ribs need a rest. I
gave you enough in that syringe; it shouldn’t have been necessary to do this kind of damage.”
“Memphis did it before I had him. If I’d known he had a lamp post as a dick, I wouldn’t have
given him the couple I gave him.”
“Me neither.” Another male voice snickered.
Dizzy, Gavin tried to match swirling images to the voices and had to close his eyes again, feeling
as if he was going to vomit.
“So, is he going to live or not?”
“Yes.”
“Right on! Let’s get this show started. You ready?”
“What do you think?” the female purred.
The raucous laughter surrounding him was even worse than seeing the hallucinogenic figures
standing over him. Trying to open his dry mouth, he tried to tell them that he was going to vomit.
“What’d he say?” one male voice asked.
“Don’t know, don’t care,” another answered.
“I think he said he’s going to vomit,” the woman responded, her purr gone.
“Then stay away from his mouth.”
Praying for oblivion, Gavin tried to lift his shoulder, determined to get away from the cruel jabs.
“I thought you said he couldn’t move?” The fear interlaced with excitement in the woman’s voice
had him attempting to move again.
“Butcher?”
“You wanted him incapacitated, not dead. Don’t worry; I think you can take him in the shape he’s
in.”
Again, as the laughter filled his drumming head, he tried to move when he felt something lay on
him.
“Damn, he’s fucking gorgeous.” Gavin felt her mouth as she talked. Then she licked over his
chest, going downward to his abs as exploring fingers went to his cock. “He’s hung like a bull.”
“Suck it,” a male ordered.
“Slate, you don’t have to tell me what to do.” The woman’s low moan had him trying to get his
tongue to work to order her to stop.
Gavin felt a warm mouth cover his dick before she sucked, drawing him deeper inside. He went
from trying to talk to trying to stop his dick from getting hard. With her fondling fingers, she found
his balls, making it even harder to stop the involuntary reaction she was getting.
“I think he likes it.”
“He would have to be dead not to. Vamp could suck the juice out of a dried lemon.”
Straining, Gavin tried to shove her off him. Lifting weighted eyelids, he was dazed by bright
lights shining down on him.
“How’s it looking in the camera?”
“She’s making me horny as fuck. That answer your question?”
“It’s not you I’m trying to make horny. Next time, I’m not giving him the full shot. He’s lying
there like a limp fish,” someone complained.
“Not all of him.”
His cock was removed from her mouth.
Gavin desperately kept trying to focus on the blurred woman on his body, not even able to
distinguish hair color in the glare of the lights.
Beneath his back, the mattress moved as the woman lifted her weight off his legs. Thinking she
was finished with him, he tried to struggle away again when his cock was enveloped in a rubber
before being placed in a velvet sheath.
“Vamp, you must be losing your touch. I think he’s trying to get away.”
“Mmhmm … I hope he keeps trying,” the female moaned.
Gavin’s body bounced up and down on the mattress as the woman started fucking him. He heard
another groan from his chest when she put her hands on his ribcage and the bed started moving
faster.
“Fuck him harder!”
“Take it all!”
“I’m next,” a lust-ridden voice muttered near him. “How long does that shot you gave him last?”
“Long enough for you to get your money out of him.”
That answer sent a chill through him. What was happening to him had to be a nightmare. But
when the woman tightened her grip on his ribcage, he was forced to acknowledged that it wasn’t.
Hair spilled across his face when she stopped moving to fall forward onto him. “He’s all yours!”
she yelled into his ear before she got off him.
“You didn’t leave me much to work with.” The voice was thick with lust as it moved away from
him, then Gavin felt the mattress sink near his feet. “Fortunately, I like leftovers as long as the rest
of him is brand new.”
The hand that gripped his cock was not feminine, nor were the murmurs coming from the mouth
that was sliding over him.
Gavin tried again to throw himself from the bed. Laughter erupted at his efforts.
The fact he betrayed Taylor with a woman and now a man pierced his ego. It didn’t matter that
he wasn’t willing and that he was drugged out of his mind; what hurt the most was his own body’s
betrayal. It was more even more devastating than Memphis’s and Crash’s betrayals because, while
he couldn’t control their actions, he should have been able to control his. When his cock became
erect despite his mind’s and body’s resistance, it hit him at a fundamental level he never
experienced before—shame.
He felt a tongue run the length of his shaft before a hand curled around it while continuing to
suck.
“Make sure he doesn’t come in your mouth. I need the cum shot.”
Darkness swirled at the edge of his consciousness, while Gavin tried to concentrate with every
bit of his willpower to remember every detail so he could kill each and every one who was doing and
witnessing what was happening to him.
“Here he goes!”
Humiliation burned at the coarse comments in the room. Blanking them out, Gavin was relieved
when he felt whoever it was release the hold he had on his cock.
“I’ll let you clean him up, Vamp.” The mouth thick with lust moved to his neck. “I hope you
enjoyed that. I know I did. That was a small appetizer of what I can do for you.”
Gavin couldn’t hold the vomit any longer and started heaving.
A hand settled over his mouth. “You’re not going to ruin this!”
With his eyes bulging, he fought hard to hold the vomit back, knowing if he didn’t, he would
asphyxiate.
Slowly, the hand was removed. “Better? Right on. Let’s get to the main course! Ink, turn him
over. Vamp, get the bucket ready. If he blows, I don’t want it to get on the mattress.”
Rough hands turned him onto his stomach. Then finding himself spread-eagle, Gavin tried to roll
back over, his numb brain understanding what was about to happen.
“Chain his hands. I don’t want him getting loose and damaging my equipment.”
“He gets loose, he won’t be going for the equipment,” someone joked. “Turn his head. We don’t
want him to suffocate.”
They grabbed his wrists and raised them over his head. Gavin no longer made the attempt to
clear his mind, not wanting to accept that he was about to be raped again. However, a hard slap on
his buttock wouldn’t let him escape the reality that fingers were now slipping between his clenched
cheeks.
“My clients know I deal in clean goods. I want a condom on your dick before you get any closer
to his ass.”
“I’m clean.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Either put it on or you’re going to forfeit the money you paid me. If I made
Vamp put a condom on him, you sure as hell are going to have one. You’re a bigger whore than she
is.”
Briefly, the hand moved away, but it wasn’t long before it was back. Gavin tried tugging on the
chains that were restraining him when slick fingers delved inside him.
“I told you he was a cherry. He’s about to tear the chains from the wall.”
Gavin frantically tried harder as two hands pressed his chest farther down into the mattress.
“Go ahead and fight. It gets me even harder.” The male voice behind him had Gavin trying to
throw off the heavy weight that was pressing him down.
A loud scream filled the room as the bed began moving again. It took a second for him to realize
the pain-filled scream was coming from him, as he was brutalized by the man forcing himself into
his clenching body.
Over and over, a cock was thrust inside of him, going higher each time. Gavin tried to wrap the
chain around his wrists tighter to give himself more traction, but he didn’t have enough strength in
his muscles to succeed.
His rapist grabbed the hair at the back of his head, pulling his head back, as another hand
slipped under his waist to gab his cock.
“Don’t worry; you’ll get used to it. You’ll be begging me for it before too long.”
Gavin used every ounce of willpower to get the words out, but his thick tongue wouldn’t let him.
“What’d he say?”
“I think he said, fuck off.”
 CHAPTER NINETEEN

G
off.
avin woke up and every part of his body ached, and he knew his torture wasn’t over. He
experimentally moved his fingers before raising his hand to see if the drug they gave him wore

Carefully and slowly, he maneuvered himself into a sitting position, his roiling stomach rebelling.
Unable to hold back the vomit, Gavin leaned over the edge of the cot and lost what little was in his
stomach. Realizing he was naked had his gut spasming even more.
“You’ll have to clean that up. No one else is going to clean up your messes.”
Gavin held onto the end of the cot to keep himself from toppling over. When he was able to stop
vomiting long enough to look up, he saw Slate standing at the bottom of the stairs holding a gun.
“One way or another, I’m going to kill you.”
“Do I look scared? You’re nothing without Viper backing you up. Even Viper knows that. That’s
why he had to sign up for another tour—to make sure he could watch over you. The only thing for
you to be proud of is forming The Last Riders, and you wouldn’t have accomplished that without
Rider’s help. See a pattern, Gavin? You’re nothing unless you’re hiding behind someone else.”
“The Last Riders isn’t what I’m proudest of. Being responsible for getting you out of the service
is.”
“Well, buddy, that’s where you fucked up. If I were still in the service, you wouldn’t be sitting in
my basement, puking your guts out.”
“I’d rather be here than you terrorizing helpless women and children.”
“Let’s see if you can still say that the next time The Count wants to ram his dick up your ass.”
There was only one person that he wanted to kill more than Slate and it was the man who had
raped him. The woman was third on his list.
“Nothing to say?”
“What do you want me to say? Why don’t you shove that gun barrel up your own ass and see how
you like it?”
“I’ll pass.”
“I thought so. You’re the only coward here, but we both know that, don’t we?”
Slate’s eyes grew dark and mean. “I’ll send Ink and Hock down with something to clean that
mess up. When you’re done, you can eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I’m only going to feed you once a day, so I’d think twice before you refuse to eat. And don’t
worry about me putting anything in your food. It’s too much fun poking you with a needle.”
Backing back up the steps, Slate left him alone. Gavin heard the door slam shut and the sound of
a lock clicking in place. With Slate gone, he studied the room, looking for anything he could turn
into a weapon. The room was bare except for the Army cot he was sitting on. There wasn’t even a
fuse box, and there was only one set of track lighting on the ceiling.
Lightheaded, he got to his feet to walk alongside each of the walls, searching for an installed
camera. Discovering there wasn’t one showed Slate was confident there wasn’t a way for him to
escape.
The only way out was going to be up the steps and through the door. Gavin knew Slate would
have guards on the other side. The irony of the situation was that he was a military strategist, and
the only way out was going to take a miracle to achieve.
Slate took the same courses he had and was familiar with the same tactics. It was like playing
chess with someone who had learned from the same chess champion.
They disliked each other on sight, which had only grown the longer they served together.
Ultimately, Slate had underestimated Gavin, thinking that he would be able to intimidate him as he
had the others in their unit. He would have continued his rise through the ranks, leaving destroyed
lives behind him.
When a young mother was wrongly accused and nearly beaten to death because a relic belonging
to the village was gone, Gavin suspected Slate was buying and selling artifacts—among other
things. It had taken him a week to track down the evidence against Slate, and when he showed his
supervisor the proof, Slate had agreed to return the artifact and several others that he’d stolen. He
spent two months in a military prison before being discharged for bad conduct. Gavin suspected
that stealing artifacts was the least of his crimes, but it was the only one he could prove.
Gavin went to stand in the middle of the basement, when he heard the door being unlocked.
From there he’d be able to see up the stairs and what was beyond the door. As soon as it opened, he
only got a brief glimpse before Ink’s and Hock’s bodies blocked the room from view. From what
little he could see, it was a bedroom.
“Stand with your back against the wall.” Ink motioned with the pistol to get him moving.
Gavin followed his directions, and not because he was worried Ink would pull the trigger, but he
didn’t want another physical altercation before his body recovered from the beatings they’d given
him. His head still felt like a fucked-up mess, and his ribs hurt every time he breathed. One more
punch, and his lung could puncture. And Gavin had every intention of living. He wanted to live for
the express purpose of killing each and every one of these fuckers.
Ink kept the gun trained on him as Hock came from behind him to set down a gallon of water and
a bucket. Afterward, Hock went to the steps to stand behind Ink. Together they started back up the
steps.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
When they’d finished with him the day before and while he was still out of it, he remembered
being led to a bathroom and held under the shower where he had relieved himself.
“Use the bucket when you’re done cleaning the puke.”
Gavin wasn’t stupid; he knew that was what the bucket was for. Making a disgusted face, he held
up his hands, palms up. “Come on; give me five minutes to take care of my business. I’ll even let you
handcuff me.”
“You can take it up with Slate when he comes back down.”
Gavin had used the opportunity of them stopping on the steps to take another look through the
doorway.
After they left, Gavin went to the bucket and saw a roll of paper towels and a sandwich wrapped
in aluminum foil. Setting the sandwich on the cot, he used the towels and water to clean the floor.
He then grabbed a new towel, pouring a small amount of water on it to wipe the sweat from his
brow from doing the simple chore. Throwing the dirty towels in the bucket, he placed the bucket in
the farthest corner of the basement.
Grabbing the sandwich from where he tossed it on the cot, he opened the foil to see it was
peanut butter. Taking a small bite, he closed the foil again. He would only take small bites until they
gave him more food. In case the food was tainted, it would be dispersed through his body in small
doses. He didn’t trust Slate, but his body wasn’t going to heal without nourishment.
Sitting on the cot, with his back against the wall, he counted seconds off into minutes before
taking another small bite, along with a small swig of the water. Finishing off the tiny meal, he
passed the time by thinking of Taylor. She would have called Viper by now to tell him he was
missing. His brother was smart, but Gavin knew that he had three things going against him—
Memphis, Crash, and Bedford. Viper had served with Memphis. Their tight bond was the reason
Viper invited Memphis to join The Last Riders. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to believe that Memphis and
Crash were stealing from The Last Riders, but now he knew that Memphis had taken part in the
drug ring in Treepoint. If Memphis had been watching him, then he was on thin ice—even if he
wasn’t stealing from the club. The brothers had a strict rule about hard-core drugs. They were laid-
back about pot and alcohol, but anything more would have you handing over your cut and bike.
Memphis had broken that rule. Gavin had gone out on his own to help Lucky in tracking down
information on the drug ring, and he’d seen more than he’d ever expected. Memphis was the one
coming and going from the suspected drug house, when he was supposed to be back in Ohio.
From what he’d pieced together, the road between Treepoint and Molly’s Valley were stopping
points. Some isolated homes set off the road were used by mules as a drop point—to stash or sell
before moving on to another stash house either in Virginia or Tennessee. From what he’d gathered,
the mules didn’t know what stop was beyond the one they were heading to. It was the perfect way
for high-level members of the drug trafficking organization to keep their routes a secret. They’d
created a complex system, making it impossible for law enforcement to piece together.
To assimilate himself into Treepoint, he’d started eating at the local diner, not only to meet
people in town but to listen in on conversations around him. During his military days, he’d learned
some of his best intel came from the local establishments and watering holes. He’d been lucky one
day to get a seat next to a local at the diner, who’d been happy to strike up a conversation with him.
“The coffee is the best in town. I don’t know if that’s much of a recommendation, but it’s better
than the crap they sell at the gas station.”
The waitress came over, and Gavin waited until he ordered before turning toward the man. “I’ve
had every coffee in town and can agree it is the best.”
They chatted as they drank their coffees and ate their breakfasts.
“You’re new, aren’t you?” the man asked.
“Been here a few months. I’m renovating the inn.”
 The man wasn’t surprised. His hard face cracked into a smile. “Treepoint is small. Word gets
around quick what you’re doing here.”
“I’ve been finding that out.”
“You plan on making Treepoint home?”
If asked that question when he first arrived, he would have said no, but Treepoint had grown on
him. And if he didn’t love Taylor and knew she would never be able to adjust, he would consider
making it a home base. But Taylor was in the picture, so it wasn’t going to be an option.
“No, my fiancée is a big-city girl.”
“You’re engaged?”
Gavin looked up from his plate to see a disappointed expression cross the stranger’s face before
he lowered his face to his plate, and the cap he was wearing concealed what he was thinking.
“Getting ready to tie the knot next month.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Must have been hard on you being separated.”
“It has been, yes.”
“Treepoint doesn’t have enough to keep her occupied.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
It didn’t bother Gavin that Treepoint didn’t have the conveniences that Ohio had. He didn’t need
dozens of restaurants, shopping malls, or the other numerous places that Taylor frequented to keep
him content.
The stranger finished his coffee and picked up his bill. Turning his swivel seat, he seemed as if
he was about to go. “The longer you’re here, the more doors will open for you.”
Gavin’s paused with his cup halfway to his lips as the man continued.
“Most of the people like to keep to themselves. That’s why most around here don’t live in town;
they live where it takes a little bit of work to find them. Used to be an old woman who ran a liquor
store out of her house. Sheriff never did catch on to what was going on, and he was running the
roads ragged trying to find out where the alcohol was coming from in a dry county. I reckon a man
can find anything here in Treepoint that they can find in the big city—if they look hard enough.”
“Can I get you some coffee?”
Gavin looked at the waitress and told her no. When he turned back around, the man was
checking out.
If the stranger hadn’t given him the tip, he would have never paid attention to the turn-offs
leading to the secluded homes. His driving back and forth during the weekends had given him a
chance to see which turn-offs were being used. Then, during the weeknights, he would find a spot to
watch the homes. That was when he had seen Memphis turning into one of them.
If Memphis had been watching him, then he also knew he had been watching the houses. That he
had made several missteps with his safety made him want to kick his own ass. He should have gone
to Viper immediately when he discovered what was going on with the patents, instead of taking
Memphis’s friendship with Viper into consideration.
But, because he’d been so determined to do everything on his own and prove to Viper that he
was just as capable of taking care of himself, he hadn’t even alerted Lucky. If anything happened to
Lucky because of him, he would never forgive himself.
Sleeping intermittently, Gavin didn’t know how much time had passed. When he woke up and the
pounding in his head was gone, he slowly rose to his feet, then walked around the small room to get
his circulation going again.
The lights had been on constantly, and without any windows, he had no idea how much time had
passed since his kidnapping.
Stretching out his tight muscles, he still felt the soreness in his body. He refused to think about
what had happened to him while he’d been drugged, clinging to thoughts of Taylor’s image. To pass
the time, he recalled the different outfits he had seen her in since they met. When he exhausted
that, he moved on to the different places he had taken her.
His growling stomach interrupted his chain of thought, and he wondered how long it had been
since he ate the sandwich. Just as he sat back down on his cot, he heard the lock disengage. Before
he could get back to the steps, he saw something tossed from the top to land on the floor, and then
the door was slammed closed. He picked up the aluminum foil and opened it as he went back to the
cot. It was a baloney sandwich.
Taking a small bite, he started counting seconds then minutes. If they were feeding him once a
day, then it was the second day of his captivity.
He knew he was in deep shit when he could have sworn he had been there for an eternity
already.
 CHAPTER TWENTY

G avin knew his fifth day of captivity was going to be different when he heard Ink yell at him to
get against the wall.
While his body wasn’t as sore, he felt weaker due to the lack of food and water he’d been given.
His captives switched back and forth between peanut butter and baloney sandwiches and rarely
gave him a bottle of water.
Going to the wall, he watched Ink and Hock come down the steps.
“Jesus, it stinks down here.” Ink gagged at the smell when he reached the bottom, training the
gun on him.
“That’s what happens when you don’t let me use the bathroom.” Gavin was just as disgusted with
it as the other two men, but he didn’t let it show.
“I’ll get one of the bitches to bring you another bucket. I’m not touching that shit. Now turn
around and put your hands behind your back.”
“No.”
“You really want me to get Slate down here?”
“You really want Slate to know that you and Hock can’t get the cuffs on me?” he mocked.
“I’m man enough to know I can’t handle you on my own. How about you, Hock?”
“I don’t have a problem with it either. Slate!”
Gavin watched the door, mentally counting the seconds for Slate to appear. It only took two
minutes, so either the walls were thin and Hock’s voice could be heard throughout the house, or
there was an air vent that had carried his voice.
Slate came down the steps with anticipation in his eyes, taking the gun away from Ink. “You
giving my boys trouble?”
“Not really. I just told them, if they wanted me handcuffed, they could do it themselves. Your
buddies being as much of a coward as you, isn’t really a shocker.”
“Getting pretty sick of you not appreciating how your ass could be buried where no one knows,
instead of being thankful that I’m keeping you alive. Makes me wonder if it’s worth the effort.”
“Why don’t you come here and find out?” he goaded.
“You don’t want me to have to shoot you up with Butcher’s juice for tonight’s show, do you?
Going to give you a chance to take a shower, but I need you to do one thing for me, or I can juice
you up and we’ll move directly to the second part of the show. It’s your choice. Either way, I’m going
to make money on you. It’s up to you if it’ll be on your feet or on your back.”
Slate took the handcuffs away from Hock, throwing them at his feet. “Put them on.”
It really wasn’t much of a choice. He would rather have his mind and body under his own control
with a chance of escape versus him being at Slate’s mercy.
Bending down, he picked up the handcuffs, clicking one around his wrist. Then he put both
hands behind his back, maneuvering the other cuff around his free wrist.
“Turn around.”
Gavin turned, showing he had the cuffs on. Hearing footsteps behind him, he then felt hands
checking that they were on tight before Ink took his arm and shoved him toward the stairs.
“Hock, get that shit bucket changed out. It smells like a sewer down here.”
Slate went up first, then him with Hock and Ink following behind. Gavin was tempted to push
them down the steps, but his chances of escaping weren’t high enough to risk, since Slate had taken
the gun from Ink. He needed to know the layout of the house, and to do that, he needed his mind
clear to remember the details.
Entering through the bedroom closet, they led him to the side and into a bathroom. Slate and Ink
stood in the doorway, allowing him to use the bathroom and shower. It wasn’t easy to manage with
his hands behind his back. They’d refused to even turn the shower knob on, so it took a lot of
twisting and turning, setting off spikes of pain in his still injured ribs.
Getting out of the shower, dripping water, he stopped being compliant, knowing there was no
way he could dry off with his hands cuffed.
 “You want to let me dry off?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Slate stepped away from the doorway to let him out. “You’re just going to
get wet again.”
Gavin exited the bathroom, not liking the way Slate and Ink were looking at him.
“Get moving. Everyone’s waiting.” Slate used the gun to motion toward a closed door.
Gavin went to the door, and as he approached, Hock opened it, then hastily stepped away, letting
him go in first.
Walking down a hallway, Slate directed him through another hallway, then through another door,
bringing him to a backyard surrounded by trees. Gavin went down the small flight of steps, when he
felt the nudge of the gun on his back. He shut his eyes at the glare from the sun, realizing it wasn’t
as late in the day as he’d thought.
There were at least twenty people standing around with drinks in their hands as if they were
having a party. When they turned and stared at him, his stomach clenched in dread. Unconcerned
that he could see their faces, coupled with the fact they weren’t horrified that a naked man was
being led into the yard with his hands cuffed behind his back and were excitedly talking amongst
themselves, made him want to take off running. It became very clear he wasn’t the first victim to be
paraded in front of them.
Catching one man’s gaze, he somehow knew it was the one that Slate called Butcher. His cloudy-
green gaze held a vicious quality, like someone who got joy out of torturing the weak.
“Everyone, let me introduce Reaper. If anyone wants to increase their bet, go ahead. Just raise
your hand and Chain will be by to get your money.”
The talking increased in volume as several hands went up in the air. Gavin stared at the faces,
memorizing them and adding more names to his mental list of people who would die.
“One of you should really be smart and call the cops, because when I get away from these sick
fuckers, I’m going to kill every fucking one of you.” Gavin stared pointedly at every person in the
yard.
It didn’t bode well that Slate didn’t stop him from threatening his audience, and having more
hands go up in the air made it even worse.
“If that’s it, the betting is now closed. Let’s get the first part of the show over so we can move on
to the best part of the night.” Slate took his arm and led him to a plastic blowup pool that reached
his waist.
Gavin cocked an eyebrow at Slate when he stopped him. “You want me to swim?”
Slate burst out laughing, and so did the others who were watching. “Nothing as mundane as
that. You see, Reaper, I told my friends what you did in the service. We want to see how long you
can stay under water.”
“You can all go fuck yourselves.”
The feeling of dread came back when laughter erupted again.
“Reaper, we didn’t expect to have your cooperation.”
Before he could move, Gavin was tackled. Ink took one arm and Raff the other, throwing him to
the ground while the one named Butcher grabbed one of his legs and Chain secured his other one in
a tight grip.
Cheers of encouragement filled the air as they hefted him over the side of the pool and into the
water until all five of them were standing in the middle.
“Reaper, I’d take a deep breath if I were you.”
Gavin instinctively drew in a deep breath, then they pushed his face down just below the water’s
surface while he struggled and fought against their restraining hands, hoping they’d lose their
grips. They didn’t. They just held on tighter. His starved body tired much sooner than he expected.
Not only was his body giving up the fight, but his lungs were beginning to burn. How long had he
been fighting them off? His struggles changed from trying to get away to just wanting to come up
for air, knowing he had expended his reservoir of oxygen.
He now fought for survival.
As the burning in his lungs increased, Gavin was an experienced enough swimmer to know that
unconsciousness wasn’t far away. He hung limply in their arms as the stark reality came to him that
they hadn’t been betting on how long he could stay underwater but how long it would take him to
drown.
His body rebelling, he started struggling to get fresh air again in a final bid to live. The water
that he loved since childhood and had always been his sanctuary was going to be responsible for
sending him to his grave. No, the water wasn’t responsible. It was Memphis, Crash, Vincent
Bedford, and Slate.
Hatred fueled him, sending adrenaline rushing through his body in a last-ditch effort to live long
enough to get revenge. Using every ounce of his strength, he managed to get a pair of hands off one
arm long enough to get a brief gulp of air before he was held back under the water again.
His starved lungs burned like fire when he couldn’t get loose a second time. Even with the stark
realization he was facing his death and would never marry Taylor or fix his relationship with Viper,
he had no energy left. His body unable to fight made it easier for him by sending oblivion to the
rescue, blanketing him in a welcoming darkness.
 Hard thumps on his chest tore him from the darkness as he was turned to the side to vomit up
the water he’d swallowed. Retching helplessly, Ink and Chain each grabbed an arm and hefted him
up. Gavin could only hang there, suspended by Ink and Chain, as he regained his breath.
“Aspen, your time came the closest. Congratulations!” Slate called out. “Once Reaper is good to
go, we’ll move the rest of the festivities inside. I hope you saved some money. Aspen and Butcher
have already placed their bids on spending the rest of the evening with our champion here.”
Gavin shook his head to get his damp hair out his eyes. He saw Slate standing in front of him,
pointing a camera at him. His earlier feeling of dread came whooshing back. Slate brazenly filmed
him being drowned and was now auctioning him off.
Yanked upward, he was dragged back inside the house and into the bedroom with the basement
door. Ink and Chain threw him facedown on the bed, and he immediately tried to fight them off,
hearing the shuffling of several people entering the room.
One of them jerked the handcuffs higher up his back, pinning him down with a knee pressed
against his spine. “Hurry, Butcher!”
Gavin turned his head, snarling at the man coming at him with a needle in his hand. The man
stabbed him in the arm before he could jerk it away.
“Ink, you and Hock get him hooked up. No one outbid Aspen, so the rest of the night is his.”
Cloudy-green eyes stared down at him promisingly. “How about my bid?” Butcher asked Slate.
“Don’t I get second dibs?”
“No, you get third.”
“I’ll take third.” Butcher turned gleeful.
“Aspen, you want him cock up or ass up?”
“Ass.”
Gavin was turned onto his stomach, facing the headboard. He thought his shoulders would
dislocate as chains attached to the bedpost were wound through his arms, lifting them higher up his
back. Meanwhile, other hands spread his thighs, tying his feet to the posts at the bottom of the bed.
“Why did you have to give him the juice? He’s not going to be able to escape tied the way he is.”
Gavin’s mind was going foggy, but he knew Butcher’s voice.
“Aspen doesn’t want to take the chance when his dick is on the line.” Slate’s voice faded in and
out as the drug coursed through his blood stream. “Go ahead, Aspen. This your show.”
Gavin jerked at the first strike to his ass. By the time the belt was thrown beside his head, he
couldn’t feel anything, nor did he when he was raped by one, then by another, each heaving over
him.
Staring sightlessly out the window, he was forced to look out at the dark night as he endured
their torture. The third one took his turn as the sun was coming up. That was when the drug was
losing its effectiveness. He felt everything Butcher did to him, and he knew Butcher was aware,
which was why he had been so excited to go last. Or, that’s what he thought until he saw Slate hand
the camera over to Ink. He took his turn, driving into him with a hatred that finally made him
unable to hold back his screams.
When he figured out that his screams excited Slate to slam into him even harder, he forced them
back and started praying for death. The wind blew the curtains aside and a memory came to his
mind of the last song he heard before he’d been kidnapped.
The words did not provide the comfort the song intended, Gavin having gone past where solace
could be found. What he needed, a warm waft of air provided. It was the whisper to endure,
stroking what was left of the tiny ember of his will to live with promises of wreaking havoc on those
who hurt him, to a love that was waiting for him … just for him.
All he had to do was survive.
 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y- O N E

“G o to the wall.”
Gavin remained sitting sideways on the cot with his back to the wall, one of his arms
resting on his raised knee.
“Gavin, go to the wall!”
Unmoving, he didn’t care if they fed him or not. He would rather starve than eat another peanut
butter or baloney sandwich.
Watching the side of the steps, he saw three pairs of legs come down.
“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners? Don’t you know there are starving kids in the
world?” Slate picked up the sandwiches while Ink held the gun on him.
Gavin didn’t flinch as the sandwiches were thrown at him one at a time. He just stared
unblinkingly as Ink and Brewer descended the steps to stand next to Slate.
“Do you really want to do this the hard way?” Slate twirled the handcuffs on his fingers.
“Is he okay?” Ink whispered, as if he couldn’t hear him from mere inches away.
“He’s fine. It’ll take Gavin more than being raped a few times for him to lose it. Isn’t that right,
Gavin?”
Again, he didn’t bother to give the reaction they were waiting for.
“You think he’s playing possum?” Brewer asked.
“I think he’s waiting for us to drop our guard to kill us.” Slate narrowed his eyes on him. “Make it
easier on yourself—put the cuffs on.” Slate threw the cuffs, hitting him on the check. They fell down
unheeded to his lap.
“You’ve wasted enough of my time. Give me the gun, Ink, and go get Hock and Chain. When I’m
done with him, he’ll wish he’d put the fucking cuffs on.” As Slate took the gun, he also took a
syringe out of his back pocket.
When Ink turned to go up the steps, Gavin got off the cot, letting the cuffs and sandwiches fall to
the floor. The three men froze in place.
“Be cool, Gavin. I don’t want to kill you. But Memphis won’t have any problem taking out your
kneecaps, and Butcher will enjoy putting you back together again.”
Disregarding Slate’s threats, Gavin went to the bucket and did his business. Letting out a steam
of piss, he ignored the men staring at him dumbfounded.
“I told you, I think he’s lost it,” Ink muttered.
Slate remained silent, watching his every move.
“I think so, too,” Brewer stated when Slate didn’t say anything.
Gavin shook his dick as they watched. He took the opportunity he had been waiting for, reaching
for the almost full bucket, then throwing it at the three of them grouped together. The men tried to
scramble out of the way to avoid the contents.
Ink ran into Slate, preventing him from firing the pistol and knocking the syringe out of his hand.
Gavin ran at the men like a bulldozer, grabbing the back of Ink’s shirt and knocking his head
against the side of the steps. By the time he crumpled, Gavin was already running, swiping the
needle up as Slate turned at him, pulling the trigger.
Gavin kicked the gun out of Slate’s hand, sending it flying toward the far wall. Gavin didn’t even
try going for it, knowing the men would take him from the back. Instead, he kicked Slate in the
stomach, sending him toward the cot.
His foot was on the first step when Brewer tried to rush him. Gavin did an about-face, picking up
the needle, plunging it into his neck, then throwing him backward. Swiveling on the ball of his foot,
Gavin ran up the steps, hearing footsteps and cursing behind him.
Reaching the top, he grabbed for the open door and, with a heave of his shoulders, jerked the
door off the loosened hinges. Turning back, he threw the door at them, sending them falling down
the steps. Hell-bent for leather, he ran through the doorway, out of the closet, and into the empty
bedroom.
“Chain, Butcher!”
 Gavin knew if he could hear Slate’s yells, then the others could, but he had already anticipated
the house was full of Slate’s men. Gavin picked up a lamp, ripped it out of the wall and ran to the
window, smashing the glass, shade and all.
Gavin’s body was midair through the window when the sound of bullets exploded behind him.
Ignoring the sting on his shoulder and cuts on his arms, he levered himself off the ground and took
off running for the thick trees closest to him.
“Son of a bitch!”
“Shit, how can he run that fast?”
Gavin pumped his legs faster. He was within inches of the trees when a hard body threw itself
onto his back. Gavin didn’t stop, trying to shake the weight off him as he continued to run.
“Don’t let him go, Hock!”
Reaching the trees, Gavin dropped his shoulder forward and twisted his body to the side, trying
to use the tree to drag Hock off his back.
Grunting, Hock held on, refusing to let go. There was no way Gavin was going back alive, and
Hock was slowing him down.
In one motion, he raised his arm and yanked Hock over his shoulder. He circled Hock’s neck and
gave it a sharp jerk, snapping it. Throwing him to the side, Gavin darted between two trees, feeling
the burning sting of the bullet that hit the back of his thigh. Gritting his teeth, he pushed through
the pain, adrenaline coursed through his veins giving him the impetus to continue the mad dash for
freedom. His body’s sole focus to get away, to return to the life that had been taken from him. He
used whatever force spurring him on to push past the physical barrier of his limitations, seeing in
his mind’s eye those he needed to get back to as a stimulus to keep putting one foot in front of the
other.
There weren’t as many trees the farther he got away from the house. Another bullet hit him in
the back of his shoulder. Coming around another tree, gasping for air, he saw a large field in front of
him and, farther away, he could make out a road. He would be a sitting duck unless, by some
miracle, a cop drove by.
No, his objective was the forest on the other side of the road. He might not be able to flag down a
motorist on the back road to escape, but he could lose himself in the woods with a little luck.
He had to get through the field and make it across the road. It was a big if, but he would take the
one percent chance of escaping versus being taken back to the basement that had become his hell.
He had barely taken three steps into the field when he heard bike motors coming after him.
“God, please …,” he prayed, pushing his body harder. “Please ….”
The sounds of the motorcycles coming closer had him praying harder.
“God, don’t ….”
He wasn’t able to finish his prayer as Slate rode his bike closer to him. Holding his bike steady,
he kicked out, hitting him in his ribs.
Gavin dropped like a stone, holding his ribs, unable to breath.
Slate spun his motorcycle to a stop, spitting dirt and grass into the air. Gavin was in too much
pain to look up when Slate walked over to him and put the gun to his head.
“Do it,” Gavin croaked out.
“Fuck no. I’m not going to let you off that easy!” Slate screamed at him. “When I’m fucking done
with you, you’re going to think that going to Hell will be a fucking paradise.” Slate cruelly jerked his
hands behind his back, and Gavin felt the handcuffs snap in place.
“Ink, Raff, get his ass back to the house. Butcher, take care of his wounds and make sure Ink and
Raff chain him to bed before you work on him.”
Following Slate’s orders, he was jerked to his feet and marched back to the house. When Ink
shoved him in the shower, Gavin had to use his shoulder to catch himself. Blood dripped down his
body from the cuts and bullet holes and onto the shower floor and ran down the drain as Ink turned
the shower on.
“You know he’s going to make you pay for killing Hock, don’t you?”
Gavin used his shoulder to bash the stupid bastard against the wall, sending him scrambling
back, his ass landing on the toilet.
“Next time, I’ll make sure you’re the one I kill,” Gavin promised.
“There won’t be a next time,” Slate said, coming into the bathroom and punching him on the
chin, sending him back against the wall. Slate got in the shower and grabbed him by the throat.
Gavin met Slate’s furious gaze, raising his chin, silently daring him to choke him out.
“Give it to me, Ink.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw what Butcher handed Ink.
“You’re going to enjoy this trip.”
Gavin tried to throw his body at Slate to knock him off balance, but Slate held him in place as
Butcher grabbed his arm, holding it out as Ink tied a tourniquet on his upper arm.
“You’re going to beg to suck my dick to get more,” Slate said, letting him drop to the floor when
Ink drew the needle out of his skin.
Gavin slicked his wet hair back to stare up at him. “You don’t want my mouth anywhere near
your dick.”
 Slate smirked, leaving the shower to change his clothes.
Gavin laid his head on his folded legs as he felt the drugs begin warping Slate into a grotesque
character of himself. He raised his head to lean back on the shower wall.
“What’s he laughing at?” Ink fearfully took a step out of the door.
“I’m laughing at you shitheads. You smell like my shit and piss, and I’ve already managed to kill
one of you fuckers.” Gavin turned his head to stare at the three men. “And the only thing—” Gavin
couldn’t hold back his hysterical laughter any longer. “—that Slate thinks can keep me in line is
making me suck his dick. I bet you can’t even get it up, you useless piece of—”
Gavin wrapped his arms around his legs, scrunching himself into a ball, as Slate vented his rage
on him with boots and fists.
The best part of whatever Butcher shot into him was not feeling a fucking thing. Not one …
fucking … thing.
 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y- T W O

G avin paced frantically around the small basement, twisting his hands together. He listened to
every sound that came near the door, lifting his eyes expectantly when he heard the slightest
creak, then dropping them in disappointment when the door wasn’t opened.
He had lost track of the time and days. He no longer counted the sounds and minutes to get fed.
No, what had him jacked up was the shot he no longer fought against. Scratching his arm, he didn’t
notice he had drawn bloody welts on his skin.
When was Ink going to come? Had he ever gone so long without getting his fix? Gavin didn’t
think so but couldn’t be sure. Rubbing the back of his neck, he continued pacing, stopping
intermittently to look at the door before resuming his frantic pacing.
Had they forgotten he was down here? Did Crash tell them that he no longer wanted him kept
alive? Memphis had already stopped coming to taunt him that The Last Riders hadn’t bothered to
search for him.
Gavin was glad when Memphis stopped coming. His taunts and insults about Viper being happy
he was out his life weren’t believable. Crash had made infrequent visits taunting him with his
presence and goading him that no one was looking for him.
The hell of his existence grew each time he was dragged from the basement to fulfill whatever
depraved need Slate could devise. It had gradually worn him down like water weathering a stone.
The hope of The Last Riders finding and rescuing him had been extinguished under Slate’s
venomous jabs, and the constant drugs had distorted the truth.
Each of the brothers had one characteristic that had made them formidable opponents—loyalty,
integrity, commitment, honor, bravery, strength, nobility, and intelligence. He was no longer able to
find one of those qualities in himself because the degradation Slate forced on him was a blow to his
very core. He had arrogantly believed he contained a piece of all the original members. The military
allowed him to learn about himself and taught him ways to get out of any situation. His inability to
escape his captors had not only ripped his arrogance to shreds but had him questioning if he ever
had those qualities. Had Viper and The Last Riders grown tired of him not measuring up to their
standards, fed up with his arguments, and had they been relieved when he had angrily given his cut
back?
He shakily sat down on his cot, moaning. Every bone in his body ached. Folding his arms over his
chest to combat the chill, he rocked himself, trying to get warm. Then he anxiously jumped to his
feet when the door opened.
Practically running to the wall to face it, he put his hands behind his back, waiting for the cuffs
to go on. At the sound of a woman’s scream, he spun around to see Ink forcing her down the steps.
Unable to comprehend what he was seeing, Gavin remained transfixed in place as Ink roughly
threw the naked woman to the concrete floor. Ink moved out of the way, then Brewer shoved a man
down next to the woman, who was sobbing on the floor.
“Please don’t hurt us!” she screamed.
Slate came down the steps, his gun trained on the couple who had grabbed each other in terror.
“I brought you some company, Reaper. Meet … Excuse me, but what did you say your names were?”
The man and woman looked too terrified to answer.
“Wait. I remember. It’s Brad and Cami.” He proudly stared at them as if remembering their
names was an accomplishment. “Brewer and Chain offered them my hospitality when their car
broke down. Of course, they reluctantly agreed when Ink and Chain refused to accept no.”
“Let them go, Slate.” Gavin didn’t know how long it had been since actual words had come from
him.
“Why in the fuck would I do that?”
“Let them go.”
“Fortunately for me, it doesn’t matter what you want. Only what I want counts.”
Slate then rested his cold eyes on the couple. “Excuse us arguing. You two make yourselves at
home while I make a few calls. I can’t leave my friends out of this show. They’d never forgive me.
You three should get better acquainted. I can tell you are going to be good friends.”
Ink and Brewer went up the steps with Slate following behind, not turning his back to them.
When the door closed, the woman began crying hysterically.
“It’s going to be okay,” the man tried soothing the woman he was holding in his arms.
“No, it won’t.” Gavin had to force the words out. They needed to be prepared and letting them
believe that nothing was going to happen to them wouldn’t be doing them a favor. He needed to
seize any chance of escape, as if their lives depended on it, because it did.
When they turned toward him, their horrified gazes had the woman tearing away from the arms
holding her to run up the steps and bang on the door.
“That won’t do any good.”
The man went up the steps to place his arm around the woman, quietly talking to her before
leading her back down the steps. Sitting side by side on the third step, they stared at him fearfully.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” That was one promise he could make to them.
“How did you end up down here?”
Gavin felt his lips curl in a half-smile. “I ask myself that all the time.”
“Oh … How long have you been here?”
From their initial reaction seeing him, his appearance must have been worse than he thought. He
knew his body was emaciated. Slate using him to make videos was less frequent, and from their
expressions he could see why. The ones they’d made of him now were sadistic, catering to more
twisted desires. He would have starved to death long before, if Slate hadn’t increased his amount of
food days before shooting new videos.
“Don’t know that either. What’s the date …?”
When they told him the date and year, Gavin wished he hadn’t asked.
Shell-shocked, he walked numbly to the cot and sat down, burying his head in his hands. Slate
hadn’t stolen only days and months from him. He had stolen almost nine years.
Feeling wetness slipping through his fingers, he lay down on the cot to stare blankly up at the
ceiling. Memphis had told him the truth—The Last Riders weren’t coming for him.
“There has to be a way out of here?” The man came to stand next to him.
Gavin didn’t answer until the man shook his shoulder. “There isn’t. I’ve tried sixteen times, and
I’m still here.”
The man’s jaw dropped. “Sixteen times?”
“Could have been more. I quit counting at sixteen.”
“There has to be a way ….”
Gavin pressed his lips together. He refused to give false hope, but three could work faster than
one. His sluggish brain started thinking of their chances, when the door opened and Slate came
down with Ink and Butcher.
“Sorry, Brad, we don’t need you this go-around. This show is just for Cami and Reaper.”
Gavin tried to get off the cot, his spasming muscles failing at the effort. When the woman started
screaming, Gavin tried again, this time managing to get to his feet.
“Let her go!” he yelled as Ink started dragging the woman up the steps.
“Please no,” she begged.
“Wait.”
Ink stopped at Slate’s order.
“I’m getting a new video to upload. I really don’t give a fuck of who it is, so I’ll let you decide who
should be the star of the show—you or Brad here.”
“I’m not going to touch her.”
“Well, I don’t need both of you. I’ll give you guys a chance to talk this over for a few minutes.”
Slate motioned for Ink to release the woman.
Free, she ran into the man’s arms, burrowing her face into his shoulder.
Slate started to go back up the steps, then stopped on the third. “Did I mention that three’s a
crowd? I’m not taking on two more mouths to feed, so ….” He used his hand to slash across his
throat, the sickening motion leaving no doubt that one wasn’t going to live, whichever choice was
made. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m still waiting for a couple of my guests to arrive.”
“He really doesn’t mean it, does he?” the woman whispered.
“He means it.” Gavin brushed the sweat away from his brow. The need for a bump from one of
Butcher’s syringes had his skin crawling as if bugs were feasting over his flesh.
“What are we going to do?” the woman screamed at them. “We have to get out of here!”
Gavin clenched his jaw. He knew what was going to happen to the woman when Slate came back.
“You can’t let them kill my fiancé.”
“Help me.” Gavin went to the cot to stand beside it.
Neither of them moved.
“Help me move the cot.”
That got them moving.
Gavin lifted one end of the cot as the man lifted the other, not caring that Slate and his men
would now see what he’d done. He exposed the tunnel he had been digging.
“I’ve been trying to dig as far away from the house as I can get. It’s not very far, so if they see us
from the bedroom window upstairs, it’ll come to a foot race. I’ll break through the ground on the
other side, make sure it’s clear, and then let you two go first. If we’re spotted, take off running into
the woods across the road. Split up. That way, one of you have a better chance of making it out to
get help.”
Gavin barely had enough strength to lower his body to the ground. Bending over, he was about to
lower his head and shoulders into the hole when they heard, “Slate, you might want to get down
here!”
Gavin closed his eyes tightly when he realized one of his “new captors” had called out for Slate.
He didn’t even bother to turn when he heard the footsteps. He didn’t know how many or who had
come to watch his humiliation.
“I have to give you credit, Reaper. I knew you were up to something, but I just couldn’t figure out
what it was. Had to ask a few of my fans for some help. Had to promise them a show of their own.
Butcher isn’t really happy about that part of it, but he’ll get over it.”
He was lifted up from under his arms to face them.
“Can we get out of here?” The woman scrunched her nose up in disgust. “It reeks down here.”
Slate mockingly waved his hands toward the steps. “Ladies first.”
Bitter, amber eyes watched her leave before he turned to the man who had been willing to dupe
him. “I hope whatever Slate promised you will be worth it.”
Desire-filled eyes met his. “I think it’s going to be very worth it.”
Emotionlessly, Gavin watched him leave before turning his attention to the men left with him.
Holding his arm toward Butcher, he waited for the sting of the needle that would cloud his mind.
Butcher looked at Slate with a questioning brow.
“Give it to him. He’ll be working hard for it tonight. Ink, you and Chain fill that hole in. I think
you should do a couple of weeks without a bed. You’re going to have to build my trust again. From
now on, we’ll move it to another position. Ready?” Slate asked Butcher once he released the
tourniquet.
“Give him a couple of minutes, and he’ll be good to go.”
“You know, Reaper, you might have succeeded with that one. I thought almost talking Butcher
into helping during your last escape attempt was brilliant, but I think I can appreciate the ingenuity
you showed with this one.”
“You’ve done me one favor, Slate. When I die, I don’t want to go to Heaven anymore. I want to
spend eternity in Hell with you.” Heaven was just a fictitious place that everyone believed in to
make people feel better about dying. The only solace he had was the certainty that Slate would kill
him when he was ready, and if there was just a smidgen of truth that Heaven and Hell did exist,
then he preferred Hell.
God had turned His back on him. By the time justice found Slate and sent him to Hell, this
Reaper would be waiting for him with open arms.
 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y- T H R E E

“T aylor, do you still love me?” Gavin was shaking so badly he wasn’t aware the bed he was
lying on was shaking more. “I still love you.” He held out his hand to the woman floating
beside him.
Rubbing his eyes to bring her into focus, his teeth snapped together as another round of chills
seized him.
“I’ll love you forever. We’ll have the biggest wedding Ohio has ever seen.”
The only spark of sanity he had left was when he talked to Taylor.
“Don’t leave me alone again. I don’t like it when you stay away so long. Have you talked to Viper?
Told him where I am? He doesn’t care, does he? Memphis said he didn’t. Tell him, if he helps me, I’ll
stay out of his hair. That I’ll do anything he wants me to do.”
“Who’s he talking to?”
Gavin rubbed his eyes. The female voice talking didn’t sound like Taylor.
“Who cares?”
He didn’t have trouble recognizing Slate’s voice. He heard it every time he shut his eyes.
The bright light in the bedroom was burning a hole through his eyeballs. Placing an arm over his
eyes, he used his free hand to keep himself steady when he felt the bed sink under someone’s
weight.
“Are you sure you can make him do this?”
Even in his drugged-out state, Gavin could hear the tinge of desperation in the woman’s voice.
Lowering his arm, he tried to make out the vague profile of the young woman sitting on her
knees beside his hips. She didn’t sound like the other women who had been eager to use him.
“I wouldn’t have taken your money if I couldn’t. I guarantee all my customers satisfaction. Don’t
worry, you’re not going to be around to complain.”
“Taylor, make them go away,” he pleaded.
A sharp smack had him trying to concentrate on Slate’s distorted face staring down over him.
“You want to go home, Reaper? Then you need to do something for me.”
“You’re lying. You won’t let me go.”
“I will. You’re no use to me anymore. I’ll have Ink drive you wherever you want to go. You want to
see that bitch of yours again, I can make it happen.”
Gavin didn’t trust Slate as far as he could throw him, and he was so weak now that he couldn’t
throw a bar of soap across the room. “You’re lying.”
“What if I’m not? You could be home with Taylor tonight. All you have to do is one thing for me
before you go.”
“What is it?” he mumbled.
“You see the girl sitting next to you? Her name is Runner. She wants you to do a favor for her.”
Gavin raised his hand to the bridge of his nose, pinching it, desperately trying find a focal point
with the lights blinding him. “What does she want?”
“She wants you to strangle her.”
“No. Go away.”
“If you don’t, Butcher offered to do it for her, but she wants you to do it.”
“No.”
God, why couldn’t he die? He was past praying to be saved. He knew no help was coming. The
only thing he prayed for now was death. He didn’t even care if it was an excruciating end, only that
there would be a final breath.
Gavin felt a hand on his chest.
“Please. I want you to do it. You hurt as I do. Put me out of my misery. Please, Slate swore to me
that he’d let you go.”
“No. Go away. Won’t do it. Won’t ever do it.”
Strong hands gripped his neck, strangling the air out him. “You’re going to do it or so help me
God ….”
 Wheezing laughter managed to find a way out of his throat. “Do it. Please do it.”
The hands went away.
“You’ve got him so lit—” Slate snarled.
“Don’t blame me for that. You’re the one that told me to.” Butcher’s fear-filled voice moved away
from the bed.
“Fuck! Take him back downstairs.”
The woman sitting by his side threw herself on his chest at Slate’s order. “No! He’ll do it.”
Gavin felt hands slap at his face.
“Do it!” she screamed at him.
Gavin stared up at her blankly.
“If you don’t do it … I’ll … I’ll find Taylor and kill her.”
“No.”
“I will. I’ll get Slate to tell me where she is … I’ll kill her. I swear I will.”
Gavin grew cold. She was threatening the woman he loved. Still, he couldn’t give her what she
was asking. If the woman was determined to die, she could do it by her own hand. He couldn’t,
wouldn’t do it for her.
“Go away … Get yourself help.” Gavin tried to think of something that would make the woman
realize how precious life was.
“Better yet,” Slate interjected, “how about I send Ink and Butcher to get her? I can see her
becoming a bigger star than you.”
The idea of Taylor being subjected to be the same horror had rage rising in his chest. “I’ll kill you
before I ever let you put a hand on her.”
“How can you stop me? Crash will tell me where she is, and you know he’ll do it.”
Slates infuriated face swam into his vision.
“No.”
Slate was pushing his rage like a battering ram, not letting up.
“I will. I’ll make sure I’m the first to fuck her. Then I’ll let Butcher have her. By the time he’s
done with her, you won’t even want her anymore. I’ll guarantee that.”
Slate’s laughter sent him off the deep end. Pushed by threatening Taylor, Gavin flayed around,
grabbing the neck below Slate’s grotesque mask. Gripping it tighter, he pulled the mask closer.
“Die, die, die, die …,” he screamed the chant over and over.
“You can let her go now, Reaper.”
Gavin opened his eyes at Slate’s voice. The bright light had been turned off, and now the only
light was from the bathroom, filling the bedroom.
Confused that Slate was standing at the foot of the bed holding onto the video recorder, Gavin
raised his hands to move his hair away from his face so he could see clearly. When he did,
something slipped to his side.
His horror-stricken gaze fell to the body of a young woman lying next to him, her eyes open and
empty, staring back at him.
Demented screams tore from him with no beginning and no end. The screams maniacal until a
sting in his arm had the crazed sound slowing until there was nothing but the vacant shell he’d
become.
“Ink, get her out of here. Butcher, cuff him to the bed until Ink and Chain get back from dumping
her body. I need to get this video uploaded. This one is going to make me more money than the one I
let the Count direct to tell me how he wanted Reaper hurt. You sure he’s not going anywhere?”
“You kidding? Fuck, I don’t think he’s even on planet Earth anymore.”
Incognizant of being left alone in the bedroom instead of his cot in the basement, he lay
motionless on the bed, not even a faint flicker of reason left or the ability to feel the light wind that
had the curtain swaying.
Indistinct music teased at him, trying to ignite the dying, infinitesimal spark that was left within
him. The wind blew harder through the window as thunder roared and lightning lit the sky,
strengthening the force of the air hitting him. It traveled down his arm and settled on his palm as if
a hand was holding his, giving promises he could no longer hear.
“Don’t give up … Endure … You’re not alone … Survive … They’re coming.”
The vacant shell couldn’t hear the promises that the drugs whispered to him. There was nothing
left.
 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y- F O U R
G I N N Y 1 8 / G AV I N 3 1

“C an I get more coffee?”

“Give me a sec.” Tucking her pencil behind her ear, Ginny gave a quick smile to her
customer as she rushed behind the counter. Was it just because she was tired or was the diner
busier than usual? She was already running on empty after working last night at the theater.
Instead of falling asleep when she got home, she had spent half the early morning tossing and
turning before managing to fall asleep. There were two more hours on her shift at the diner, then
she had to grab a bite to eat before going to her second job.
The job at the theater was moderately better—simply cleaning and getting the place ready for
the next day—but it had her days and nights turned around, which sucked.
“You have customers waiting to be seated.” Her coworker gave her a condescending look as
Ginny reached past her for the coffee pot.
“I see them.” Staring Carly down, Ginny retorted, “It would help if you would seat the customers
after Toby buses the tables, when you’re not busy at the counter.”
“I’m helping prep the orders.”
“Really?” Putting the coffee pot down on the prep table, she reached through the order window
and grabbed the hot plate and the ticket. Ginny quickly scanned the order before sliding the ticket
into her apron. “I must have missed that.” Grabbing the plate and pot of coffee, she hurried to serve
the order, ignoring the nasty look Carly gave her.
The twenty-nine-year-old waitress had the owner in the palm of her hand, and she used it to shirk
her share of the work. Normally Ginny ignored her hostile behavior, but the longer she worked at
the diner, the harder it was to do.
Carly might have the stronger personality, because of her relationship with the owner—which
had her thinking she could say whatever she wanted—but Carly was messing with the wrong girl.
Ginny had been forced to live with Lisa’s demands, and there was no way she was going to find
herself under someone else’s thumb ever again, no matter how much she needed a job.
Lisa was a lousy foster mother, but she forced Ginny to grow a backbone that could easily
withstand another bitch trying to walk all over her.
Refilling the coffee cup and giving a customer his hamburger, she then refilled four other coffee
cups before taking the pot back to the coffeemaker. Counting out menus, she hurried to the door to
escort the group waiting to be seated, showing Pastor Dean, Willa, and four children to a table for
six.
As rushed as Ginny was, she felt for Willa, sensing she was uncomfortable with the town’s
busybodies watching them as they took their chairs. She’d heard the rumors circulating around the
restaurant about Willa taking in foster children but had no doubt the gentle woman would do better
than Lisa had done for her.
Everyone born and raised in Treepoint knew Willa. Ginny knew her casually from church and had
met her briefly when she came into the insurance office that Ginny had worked at prior to the diner.
“Do you know what you want, or do you need me to come back?” she asked once Willa, Dean and
the children were settled.
“We can order and save you a trip.”
Ginny gave Willa a grateful smile as she started taking their orders. Willa ordered for the two
younger ones before letting the older children order for themselves.
Writing down Pastor Dean’s order of steak and fries, she then looked expectantly at Willa. “How
about you, Willa?”
“I’ll just take coffee.”
“Bring her the same as I’m having.”
Seeing that Willa was about to argue, Ginny gave the pastor a quick wink when Willa turned her
head in his direction, then took off before she could change the order.
 Putting the order in, she fixed their drinks, then carried them to the table before checking on her
other customers. When she saw the plates come up to the window, she went back to the counter to
grab a tray.
She kept busy, occasionally giving some of the customers reprimanding glares when she caught
them staring at Willa’s table for too long. It wasn’t going to be a stellar day for tips, but she didn’t
care. She couldn’t bear the hunted expression on Willa’s face, feeling censorship from everyone.
By the end of the meal, Ginny noticed that Willa seemed more relaxed and not as self-conscious.
She went back to their table when the pastor motioned for her to bring the check.
“I didn’t realize you worked here?”
“I was fired from my last job,” she answered Willa without embarrassment.
Willa nodded at her sympathetically. “I was wondering where you were the last time I stopped in
at the insurance office.”
“I have to work two jobs to make up for losing that one. I’m also working at the theater.”
“I imagine working two jobs can’t be easy.”
“I’d rather work four jobs than put up with old man Dawkins.” She wanted to gag in disgust
every time she thought of Carter Dawkins.
Willa must have seen the disgust on her face. “I didn’t mean to upset you. If there’s anything I
can do, let me know. If I open the bakery I’m planning, maybe I can offer you a job. But it’s going to
be a while,” Willa added hastily.
Ginny wanted to jump up and down at the offer, barely managing to keep from making a fool of
herself. “Let me know. I don’t mind this one, but the theater is third shift.”
“I’d be glad to hire you.”
The woman stole her heart with her kindness. Ginny couldn’t believe that she would take a
chance on her. She was aware that people in town considered her trash, just another Coleman
bastard that even her mother didn’t want. It didn’t help that the Coleman’s still refused to mix and
mingle with the townspeople. Even though she no longer lived with them, she was still tarnished by
their name—proudly so. No matter that she was a good worker, lived a quiet life, and had never had
a boyfriend, the town as a whole still considered her bad blood and wanted nothing to do with her,
as if being associated with her would contaminate them.
“Thanks, Willa. I heard you’re engaged. Congratulations.” She looked at both her and Pastor
Dean, thrilled that the man she respected was smart enough to snag the sweetest woman in
Kentucky.
The two of them were perfect for each other. Both took helping the community seriously, whether
it involved the church or not. Pastor Dean had tutored her right up until graduation and had wanted
her to go to college. When she told him that she was content to stay here, he argued with her
incessantly, only backing off when she stopped going to church.
She wasn’t the only student he had helped. More than one owed their degree to him. Willa had
funded the food program that made meals for low-income students, supplying them during the
weekends, holidays, and summers.
“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow in church.”
With the thought of a possible new job and working with someone as nice as Willa, Ginny
practically walked on air the rest her day. Even Carly leaving early—again—couldn’t ruin her mood.
Her job situation was miserable. She’d been forced to leave the insurance company after her boss
nearly raped her, then had to get two jobs to manage paying for her car, food, and the rent for her
small room at Toby’s house. She’d been too busy with getting out of Lisa and Dalt’s house to
entertain thoughts of a career.
Cleaning and mopping the restaurant in record time, she then stuck her head through the order
window and gave a wave. “I’m leaving, Toby.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Locking the door behind her, she went to her car then drove to the movie theater. After parking
she took out a blueberry protein bar.
Letting the stress of working at the diner ease off her shoulders as she listened to music on her
car radio, Ginny stared out at the parking lot, watching the customers trickle out in small groups as
the movies let out.
Finished with her blueberry protein bar, she took out a small, half-full pack of gummy bears that
she had sealed in a reusable plastic snack bag and put them in the pocket of her black pants.
Stretching her arm into the back seat, she reached for the clean, red Polo shirt with the theater
logo. Looking around the dark parking lot, she pulled the red shirt over her head, then shimmied
her arms out of the blouse she was wearing, reaching underneath to unbutton the blouse and slide
it out from under the theater shirt. Tossing the blouse into the back seat, she grabbed her car keys
and purse before getting out of the car. Locking her purse in the trunk, she walked to the front of
theater, ignoring the few stragglers coming out of the movies who avoided eye contact with her, as
if they’d catch cooties from anyone with the last name Coleman.
Tapping on the door, Ginny waited as the high school student behind the counter came around to
let her inside. “Hey, you’re early. You trying to make the rest of us look bad?”
Ginny rolled her eyes at Norah, as the seventeen-year-old high school student locked the door
behind her.
“Looks who talking, I thought you were off tonight.”
“I was supposed to be. Jerry called and asked me to work. Nathan’s practice ran late.”
Making a grimace, Norah followed beside her as Ginny made her way to the maintenance closet.
The pretty teenager gave her a helping hand by wheeling the large rolling trash can out of the
closet.
“I can stay and help if you want?” Norah offered as Ginny lined the trash can with a clean bag.
“I’m not doing anything for a couple of hours, and I have all of my homework done.”
Taking another box of trash bags off a shelf, she turned to study the hopeful expression on
Norah’s face. Ginny recognized a kindred and lonely soul. While Ginny had been ostracized in high
school because of her last name, Norah didn’t fit in socially with her peers. Ginny knew Norah
couldn’t relate to their mindset of having fun and dodging responsibilities. By avoiding that
behavior, she’d earned a scholarship and early admission to a U of L pre-med program.
“Won’t your parents be expecting you home?”
Ginny could tell she was searching for an excuse to give her parents in order to keep out of
trouble if she didn’t arrive home before midnight.
Trying to save her the embarrassment and possibility of getting in trouble with her strict parents,
Ginny refused her help. “The last time you were late, your dad came looking for you. You don’t want
to get your car taken away again, do you?”
“No.” Norah self-consciously shuffled the toe of her tennis shoe against the carpet. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Your parents are just looking out for you. You’ve worked hard for
that scholarship, and your parents don’t want you to jeopardize your future by handing out with
someone… like me.”
“You want to go shopping this weekend?” Norah overrode Ginny. “I need a new pair of jeans. We
could meet up at the mini-mall in Jamestown. My parents wouldn’t even know as long as I’m home
before they get back from my grandparents.”
“I’m busy this weekend.” Ginny made the excuse without giving any details, saving the friendly
girl’s reputation. The townspeople could be cruel when spreading gossip, and they wouldn’t care it
was an innocent shopping excursion.
“Norah, have you clocked out? Or am I paying you and Ginny to stand around and talk?”
The teenager jumped like a scalded cat; the manager stood in the doorway.
“I was just showing her where the trash bags are, Jerry.” Norah gave a nervous laugh. “I’ll see
you guys tomorrow.”
Ginny didn’t bother to deny the lie as she placed the box back on the shelf, then reached for the
handle of the vacuum cleaner that she started wheeling out of the room.
“The concession inventory came up short again.”
“Are you accusing me?”
“Are you stealing from me?” he barked.
“Have you asked Nathan, Mark, and Norah that question?” She raised a questioning brow at his
intimidating stance in the doorway.
Jerry laid a hand on the doorframe, effectively keeping her in the maintenance room.
“They aren’t Coleman’s.”
“If they were, you wouldn’t be coming up short. Colemans aren’t thieves. We both know why and
whose responsible for the losses. Nathan sneaks them to his friends when they come to the movies.
You’re not going to blame your shortages on me to protect your nephew’s job.”
“Nathan’s a good kid.”
“I’m not saying he’s not, just that he’s giving a five-finger discount to his friends. If you need to
find someone to blame to keep the owner from firing Nathan, I can’t stop you, as long as my name
isn’t the one mentioned.”
Ginny reached into her pocket, coming out with her cell phone and making his smile disappear.
“Who are you calling?”
“You’re wife. I’m going to ask her if she knows her nephew is stealing from her and that you’re
trying to blame me.”
“You don’t have her number.” Fury boiled in his pudgy cheeks.
“Try me. She gave me the number when I waited on her at the diner, and I complained about you
buying shitty trash bags.”
“You didn’t.” He dropped his hand, clenching both into fists as if he wanted to hit her.
“Ask her,” she said sweetly.
“You say anything to her, I’ll fire you.”
“What have I got to lose? You’re been wanting to fire me since the day I started. The only reason
I’m still here is because your wife can’t find anyone else that wants this job for the money you’re
willing to pay.”
Giving her a cutting look, he stepped away from the door. “I’m having cameras installed behind
the counter tomorrow.”
“Good for you. Make sure you warn Nathan; it’ll make those Sunday family barbecues awkward if
you have to fire him.”
 Ginny took the handle of the vacuum, wheeling it behind her.
“Ignorant, good fer nothing, witch.”
Turning with a heated glare, the vacuum rocked back on its wheels when she quickly let go of
the handle.
“I dare you to repeat that to my face.”
Jerry appeared to be biting his to tongue before furiously spitting out. “Get to work.”
Ginny grabbed the handle of the vacuum, letting Jerry’s hostile behavior slide off her back, and
thinking about the envelope with forty dollars in it that would be waiting on top of the candy
counter when she finished cleaning.
Shoving her cell phone back in her pocket, she left the vacuum sitting where it was as she went
row by row, dumping the discarded remains of cups, popcorn buckets, and candy wrappers into a
trash bag, all the while wanting to go home and climb into her bed in the cheap bedroom that Toby
had let her rent at the back of his house.
Grimacing at the amount of trash left behind, she could always tell which theater showed the
newest release by the number of trash bags she had to use to clean. This was a two bagger at least.
Sighing, she hoped it was at least a good one before she dropped the bag and went to the
projection room. Starting the movie, she grabbed the garbage bag, dumping an empty popcorn
bucket inside before going back downstairs into the theater.
“I knew today wasn’t going to end on a bad note,” she told herself happily, looking forward to
watching a new horror movie. Then she nearly jumped out of her skin at the bloodcurdling scream
from the movie screen.
“Freaking hell!” Open-mouthed, she watched a gigantic bug eat the head off a zombie before
flying to chow down on a woman loudly screaming.
“Thank you,” Ginny managed to gasp out, placing a hand over her still rapidly beating heart.
“Whatever the heck you are, she nearly scared me to death.” Picking up the trash bag, she went
back to collecting garbage. “Move it or the dude with that rifle is going to blow you to smithereens.”
Her eyes widened on one of the zombies. “No! Go back. Get the one who’s trying to get over the
fence!” she shouted. The grotesque zombie looked remarkably like Jerry. “Eat him!” Ginny chanted,
going to the next row. “Eat him!” Sadly, she watched the bug get cut in half by a spaceship laser and
the two parts fell limply to the ground. “Darn it. Just once can the jerk get what he deserves?”
She guessed not. The zombie managed to clamber over the fence and started munching down on
the bug parts.
It just showed jerks like Jerry would survive even in zombie form, while she would have been ant
kibble. Ginny used movies as a learning tool, and this was a good example. When shit hit the fan,
only those with the strongest stomach would survive.

L eaving the pawn shop, Ginny was closing her purse when she heard her name called out.
Turning she saw Willa making her way across the street.
“Hi!” Ginny greeted as Willa approached her, holding two paper bags.
“Hey! I was going to call you today, but when I saw you, I thought I’d save myself the call.”
Bracing herself for Willa to have changed her mind about offering the job that she had mentioned
a couple of months ago, Ginny tried to appear unconcerned as frowning people brushed past them
on the sidewalk.
“I was going to discuss something with you, but we’re going to get mowed down if we stay out
here. Do you have a few minutes?”
“Today’s my day off.” Had people in town talked Willa out of offering her the job?
“We could go to the church, it’s close by, and I want to show you where you’ll be working.”
Ginny felt as if a ton of bricks had just been taken off her back.
Falling in step beside her, they walked the two blocks to the church. They made small talk about
the businesses Willa sold her sweets to, including the diner and the Silver Slipper restaurant. It was
only when Willa lead her into the large kitchen of the church and she saw cupcakes sitting on a
metal table did she realize that Willa was using the space as her bakery.
“I’ve rented the space from the church; it’s going to make it more convenient for me to manage
my business while performing my duties as the pastor’s wife.” Sitting the two paper bags down on a
counter, Willa gave her a happy smile.
Trying not focus on the bottles of liquor Willa was removing from the bags, Ginny walked farther
into the kitchen seeing that Willa had already organized her baking equipment. Her fingers itched
to run over the smooth shine of the expensive mixer that she could only dream of having one day,
much less the three that were resting on the counter.
“With its own entrance, and the parking lot outside, I think working here is a great idea,” Ginny
enthused.
“So, when can you start?”
Ginny wanted to jump at Willa’s question, but held herself back.
 “Are you sure? A lot of people in town don’t like me, and they won’t be happy that you’re hiring a
Coleman.”
Willa, frowned with her hands going to her hips. “Why not?”
“My father made several families angry when he refused to marry the mothers of his children.”
“What your father did or did not do is no business of mine and has no bearing on you doing a
good job for me.”
Ginny felt it necessary to give Willa one more chance to back out. “You have no idea how ugly
they can be.”
“You think so? I’ve had my own fair share of ugly comments. Have you ever been compared to a
fat piggy bank?”
Ginny paled at the comparison; her heart hurt that someone actually insulted a woman that
would go out of her way to help others.
“Who said that to you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Ginny had been on the receiving end of too many insults to know that wasn’t true.
“It matters to me.” Ginny reached out and gave Willa a hug. “Tell me who it was, and I’ll refuse
to serve them when they come into the diner. I’ll make Carly wait on them,” she joked.
Willa laughed hugging her back. “Thank you. That would definitely pay her back.”
Breaking the hug, Ginny gave Willa a glee-filled smile. “You really, want me to come work for
you?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll give my one-week notice tomorrow night at the theater, and I can start next Monday?
Give me a schedule of the hours you want me to work and I’ll give it to Toby to arrange my shifts at
the diner.”
“Thank goodness. I’m looking forward to having someone to help keep orders on track with me
busy trying to get everything I need to get done before the wedding. I hope you’re going to be able
to attend?”
“I mailed the invitation back yesterday. I’m sorry, but I have to work at the diner; the owner is
expecting a busy day with all the busybodies coming in to watch who’s coming to the wedding. The
diner gives a bird’s-eye view to the church.”
“That explains why Toby doubled his order. I thought it was because I told him I was making a
new flavor of cupcakes.”
“Nope. He’s expecting a big turnout. What’s the new flavor?”
“Drunken chocolate. I need a second opinion; you want to try one? I don’t like the taste of
bourbon, so I can’t tell if I’m using too much or not enough.”
“I never turn down a cupcake, especially if it’s chocolate.”
Going to the metal table, Willa picked up one of the cupcakes and handed it to her. Taking a bite
Ginny nearly choked at the strong liquor flavor. Forcing herself to swallow, she frantically thought of
a way out of eating another bite.
“What do you think?”
“Uh … it’s a tiny bit too strong.” Not taking another bite, she saw Willa’s disappointment. “Just a
little.”
“Oh, well. I bought some more bourbon, so I’ll make another batch this afternoon.”
Feeling bad, Ginny opened her purse to take out the wedding present she bought. “I wanted to
give you a wedding present. I was going to wrap it and give it to you tomorrow after church so you
would have it for the big day.” Watching as Willa opened the small bag from the pawn shop, Ginny
spied a trash can and dropped the cupcake inside.
When Willa raised confused eyes to her, Ginny explained, “The coin is a silver sixpence. It’s a
good luck charm. You’re supposed to put one in your shoe on your wedding day to bring love,
happiness, and prosperity to your marriage.”
“I never heard of that before.”
“It’s an old superstition, like something old, something blue.”
“Thank you, I’ll make sure to place it in my shoe. It’s very sweet of you.”
“You’re welcome.” Ginny glanced at the large batch of drunken cupcakes. “What are you going to
do with the cupcakes?”
Willa put her coin into her pocket, before frowning at cupcakes. “I’ll throw them away.”
“I hate for them to go in the trash. I’ll take them if you don’t want them. I know someone who
would appreciate these … delicacies.”
“I’ll box them for you.”
Ginny gently lifted the two pretty pink boxes into her arms.
“Thank you for taking them; I hate to let food go to waste.”
“Me too, especially when it involves chocolate.” In good conscious, Ginny felt the need to take in
consideration the community’s safety versus hurting Willa’s feelings. “I would only use a half a
teaspoon of bourbon. After your next batch, call me, and I’ll run over and taste them for you.”
“They were that strong?”
“Put it this way. I’m walking home, and coming back later to get my car.”
 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y- F I V E

G inny happily notched the pink cardboard before folding it into a box. It was such a mundane
chore, but it didn’t compare to the long hours she spent on her feet at the diner. She had to
pinch herself numerous times that she was actually working with Willa and how much easier her life
had become in three months. The only drawback was being surrounded by the aroma of freshly
baked goods that she swore was adding inches to her waist with every sniff.
Once the boxes were formed, she started putting the cupcakes Willa had frosted into them.
Neatly closing the box, she started scrupulously working on filling another one, beginning to worry
she was doing it wrong when her new boss didn’t chat with her as they worked.
“Did I do something wrong?” she tentatively asked, not wanting Willa to be disappointed in the
job she was doing.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m not in the best of moods today.”
Ginny smiled at the apology and relaxed. “That’s okay. I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t
screwed something up.” Stacking the filled boxes, she smiled at her. “I’m excited about being able
to cook full-time. When do you want me to start at the clubhouse?”
Ginny wanted to tie her down to an official date, afraid that Willa would still change her mind.
She hated working at the diner, and Willa had offered her an actual salary with insurance. She was
finally beginning to feel as if her life was on track. She didn’t miss working at the theater and was
just as anxious to put the diner in her rearview mirror. Working with Willa highlighted just how
much she hated working with Carly.
“Give notice at the diner, then let me know when would be good for you.”
“I’ll tell them this afternoon when I go in.” Filling another box with the pretty cupcakes, she had
to restrain herself from eating one of them. “I’m renting an efficiency apartment because I can’t
afford anything bigger right now. I don’t make much waitressing, so once I start working full-time
for you, I’m hoping to rent a one-bedroom.”
She had moved out of Toby’s back bedroom with her first paycheck from Willa and into the
efficiency. After Willa told her about The Last Riders needing a part-time cook and housecleaner,
she had her heart set on a one-bedroom on the third floor in her complex.
She had immediately felt comfortable with Willa, who shared similar personality traits to Leah.
When she was with her, it filled a small part of her that she had lost with Leah’s death.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Shoot,” Ginny answered off-handedly, thinking about how she would decorate the imaginary
one-bedroom apartment. All she had been able to afford after moving into the efficiency was a
secondhand couch and a coffee table. It didn’t have much of a kitchen, with only a small stove and
fridge. On the other hand, it was better than the small bedroom in Toby’s house.
“Why don’t you like the Wests? I mean, you lived there for several years, but you avoid them
when you see them at church.”
Ginny reached for another box to buy herself time before answering.
“I was just wondering, since they have custody of Darcy. Her older brother Cal is living with a
friend of mine, Drake Hall.”
“They never laid a hand on me or did anything inappropriate, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Is she safe?”
Ginny thought about the best way to explain the difficulties she had with the Wests, as she
transferred the cupcakes from the counter to the box. “Is your husband leaving Treepoint, or is he
here for good?”
“We’re not going anywhere.”
“Then she’s safe,” she said, nodding her head.
“Did Lucky …?”
“Lucky saved my life. I’ll never be able to repay him for what he did. They aren’t bad people; they
just have very high standards that I couldn’t measure up to.” If Pastor Dean hadn’t helped with her
schoolwork, she would have fallen further behind. He had gone the extra mile to show Lisa his
concerns. Seeing that Ginny had someone looking over her and Dalt’s shoulders had kept their
detachment in check.
Had they grown close the years she had lived with them? No, but Ginny didn’t think they were
capable of caring about anyone but themselves.
She hadn’t been aware that they had taken in another foster child. If Willa was concerned
enough to ask her about the Wests, then she would have expressed those concerns to her husband.
If Will still lived in town, she would have talked to him about the Wests taking another foster child.
After she’d gotten over her anger, she’d finally confessed to Will she didn’t want to be with Lisa and
Dalt. Though, even if he were still in town, she knew he’d give her the same explanation now as he’d
given her then—that without proof the Wests weren’t fit to be foster parents, there was little he
could do. At least, as close as they lived to the police station, he had kept an eye on them and wait
for them to screw up. They hadn’t.
“I know what that’s like. I never measured up to my mother’s standards.”
“You? I can’t believe that. You’re perfect. You’re sweet, kind, and you try to help everyone. I wish
I were more like you.” Ginny sincerely meant it. Willa treated everyone as if they were her friend.
She was the ideal pastor’s wife. She hoped one day to live up to the standards that Willa lived every
day. Unfortunately, she would never make a pastor’s wife. She wasn’t as good at turning the other
cheek as Willa was.
“Go get us some lunch at the diner while I finish the order. I’ll take a chicken sandwich and a
salad.”
Ginny took the twenty Willa handed her.
“Buy yourself lunch, too. I noticed you didn’t eat any yesterday,” Willa said, giving her a wink.
“You can give your notice while you’re there.”
Ginny happily grinned back. “I’ll wait until I get our food, then tell them.” She was practically
skipping on air as she left Willa counting boxes.
Her good humor lasted until she was leaving the diner and passed Lisa West, who stood at the
entry door. She was alone, dressed as if she were worth a million bucks. As they passed, neither
spoke, ignoring each other as if they were complete strangers.
Giving her order to Carly, Ginny went back to the kitchen to give her notice to Toby. The
easygoing manager wasn’t upset.
“I’ll dig up the Help Wanted sign from the office. At least you gave me notice. The last one just
threw her apron at me after Carly took one of her tables.”
Relieved Toby wasn’t upset, she spent a few minutes listening to him complain about the arthritis
in his wrists as he made her order.
“You’ve been flipping too many burgers,” she said, sympathizing with him as she made her and
Willa’s salads. When the sandwiches were done, she bagged her own order before going to the
register to pay.
Returning to the church, she found herself unexpectedly alone. Setting their lunch on the
counter, Ginny went to the window and saw Willa’s van was gone. Taking out her cell phone to call
Willa, she reached out to the boxes of cupcakes that were still there.
Biting her lip worriedly when the call went to voicemail, she then dialed Pastor Dean’s number
when she heard the sound of a police siren going through town. Even more worried, she decided to
clean the kitchen and look at the delivery orders for the cupcakes. By then, Willa still hadn’t come
back or returned her call.
Looking at her watch, she saw it was almost time for her shift at the diner, so she decided to
deliver the cupcakes to the Silver Slipper restaurant. She was lifting the stacked boxes into her
arms when her cell rang.
“Pastor, thank you for calling. Have you seen Willa—”
“She’s with me at the hospital.”
“What happened …?” Visions of losing Leah had Ginny gripping the counter in panic.
“She has a dislocated shoulder. She’s being treated now.”
“How? She was here when I left to get lunch!”
“Willa will give you a call as soon as she’s able.”
“All right … I was leaving for the day. Should I drop off the order that she was working on?”
“I’m sure she will appreciate it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. If there is anything else I can do, please let me know.”
“I will.”
Ginny shakily disconnected the call. It took her a few minutes to gather herself before she lifted
the cupcake boxes into her trembling hands. Losing Manny, then her dad and Leah had shown her
how fragile life was.
Upset that Willa had been injured while she was at the diner had her looking around the kitchen,
trying to figure out how her boss got hurt.
After delivering the cupcakes to the Silver Slipper, she drove to the diner. Grabbing her uniform
from the back seat, she hurried inside, and changed in the restroom. Tugging her light brown hair
into a ponytail, she left the bathroom to begin her shift.
Carly, who she was relieving, gave her a nasty look before reaching under the counter for her
purse. “Funny, you haven’t been late since you started working here, but the day you give notice,
you’re late.”
Ginny raised her chin at the snide comment. “I’m ten minutes late,” she said calmly, sliding an
order pad into her front pocket. “I worked thirty minutes over to cover for you yesterday and an
hour the day before. I’ll put my timecard up against yours any day of the week.”
The woman’s glare was hot enough to reheat the coffee cups of the customer’s sitting at the
counter. Jerking off her apron, Carly went through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen.
Shrugging off Carly’s anger, she got busy waiting on the customers, not stopping until she locked
the door after the last one left. She tiredly wiped down the tables and set them up for service in the
morning.
“Night, Ginny. You need a ride home?”
“No thanks, Toby. I have my car.”
“You want me to stay?”
“No, you go ahead. You have to be tired.”
“I don’t like leaving you alone.”
“The sheriff’s office is across the street; I’m good. You go.”
Ginny locked the door behind him. Then, going behind the counter, she turned Toby’s radio on,
listening to it as she sat at the counter to roll silverware. Hearing a tap at the door, Ginny turned
toward the door. Her lips tightened when she saw who it was.
Carter Dawkins’s conceited face stared back at her, giving another sharp rap with his knuckles
for her to open the door.
She casually went to the door as if she were going to open it for him. Instead of unlocking it,
though, she flicked the switch off the blinking Open sign.
“I want a hamburger,” he yelled through the door.
“Then go home and fry one.” Ginny didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t care if he heard her or not.
Carter would get the message when she didn’t open the door.
His landscaped grey eyebrows frowned at her.
She rolled her eyes and took out her cell phone, speaking loudly enough for Carter to hear.
“Sheriff, I think someone is trying to break in the diner. I’m afraid to go outside to my car. Could you
ask a deputy to come over and escort me?”
“I’m at the front desk filling out a report. I see who’s at the door. I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.”
Ginny turned, giving her former boss her back.
Sliding the container of silverware to the back of the counter, she grabbed her purse and her
street clothes before grabbing the keys to the diner from the register before going back to the door.
Dawkins was gone and the sheriff was patiently waiting for her.
“Evening, Knox,” she said, greeting the sheriff as she went out the door, then locked it.
“How many times have I told you not to stay at the diner by yourself?”
“Too many to count,” she quipped as he escorted her to her car.
“It’s not a joke. I told you last week to come by the office and put a restraining order out on him.”
“His days of being able to hang out at the diner are almost over. I gave my notice today.”
“I’d feel better if you took out the restraining order.”
Ginny unlocked her car door. “Willa hired me to clean and cook for The Last Riders. After I serve
my notice, I don’t think Carter will be bothering me anymore, especially when he finds out where
my new job is. Do you?”
The huge sheriff’s lips twitched in humor. “No.”
Ginny grinned. “See? All’s well, and it’s going to end well.”
He shook his head at her, his humor turning to concern. “Any other woman in town would have
been screaming at me to arrest him for harassing and stalking.”
“Knox, I’m going to tell you a little secret, not many people in town knows this about me.”
He narrowed his eyes on her as if she were going to confess to having a gun to protect herself.
She could see he was just waiting to warn her not to shoot herself.
Grinning wider, she rested an arm over the car door, lowering her voice so no one could hear her
secret, despite no one being around this late at night.
“I’m not any other woman.”
 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y- S I X

G inny pretended to pinch herself, the skin on her arm too sensitive from doing it so often to
actually squeeze, then she twirled around with her arms open in her brand-new living room.
Well, not exactly brand-new, but new to her.
Ginny was waiting for Willa to call and tell her to leave—that she had changed her mind and she
wasn’t going to sell her the home that she had lived in before she married Pastor Dean. In a short
two weeks, she had gone from saving to move into a one-bedroom apartment, into a soon-to-be
owner of a home that had three bedrooms.
Making herself a grilled cheese sandwich, she thought about going upstairs and asking her new
roommate if she wanted one, then changed her mind, not wanting to disturb Bliss if she was taking
a nap.
Taking the gooey sandwich to the table, she ate it while she itemized her budget. Willa was only
charging five hundred a month for the house, as well as offering to co-sign a loan when she had
enough money saved for a deposit to buy it from her.
Closing the small notebook, she tucked the coupons and sale ads she would be using that week,
then stood, carrying her dirty plate to the sink. Putting her notebook into the small drawer beside
the kitchen sink, she then went to her room to change her clothes. She had the morning off from the
bakery, and it was her afternoon to work for The Last Riders.
She worked half a day for Willa at her bakery and the other half at The Last Riders’ clubhouse,
cleaning and cooking, rotating morning and afternoons between the two. She enjoyed both. So far
the most demanding job they gave her was cooking enough food to satisfy the enormous appetites
of the men who lived there. She had to make an extra pack of bacon just to keep Train and Rider
happy.
The cleaning wasn’t bad. Most of the men and women who lived there cleaned up after
themselves. On the days she worked the morning shift, after making breakfast, she vacuumed,
dusted, and washed clothes. She wasn’t allowed upstairs.
The one thing Lisa West had taught her was to keep everything in its place and keep everything
neat and orderly. The habit was so ingrained in her that she used her own money to buy coasters
and had set them around on the various tables in the clubroom.
Since she was heading to work at the clubhouse, she changed into her favorite worn denim and a
plain T-shirt. Leaving her room, she was about to knock on Bliss’s door to tell her that she was
leaving, but then dropped her hand. She would just leave her a note and text her later to ask if she
wanted her to pick up anything on her way home. Ginny didn’t expect to receive a text back, but she
wanted to extend the offer.
Bliss had, so far, resisted her friendship. Ginny wasn’t upset by the rebuffs; she felt she
understood Bliss’s unhappiness better than the petite woman gave her credit for. Treepoint was a
small town, and it was common knowledge that Bliss had been thrown out of the club. She had lost
The Last Riders, which she considered family and friends. Ginny had seen her too many times at the
diner with them not to have noticed more than a couple of intimate touches and glances she had
shared with the men, so when Bliss had lost her relationship with The Last Riders, it hadn’t just
hurt; it had burned.
When she had been ten years old, Ginny had begged Silas to let her help cook Thanksgiving
dinner. He had given her simple tasks, like peel the eggshells for deviled eggs, tear the bread apart
for the stuffing, and butter the rolls. Looking back, Ginny had been more of a hindrance than a help,
constantly badgering him what to do next.
She had been grating the carrots for the cake he’d been making, when he stopped mixing the
batter to take the turkey out of the oven. It had been a thing of beauty, all golden crust and huge
enough to feed the small army of children, who were complaining of hunger.
“It’s beautiful, Silas.” Placing the peeler down, she went to the counter where he set the turkey,
as Silas dug through the cabinets for the platter.
“Don’t touch, Ginny; it’s hot,” Silas warned, bending down while keeping his eyes on her as he
pulled the platter out.
“I won’t,” she promised, keeping away from the metal pan. She slid her eyes over the breast
where a thermometer stuck out. Thinking to help Silas, she reached over to pull it out.
“No!” Silas yelled, dropping the platter with a crash as he ran toward her.
The warning came too late. Agonizing pain had her trying to drop the metal thermometer, but it
stuck to her hand. The unconceivable sensation of her flesh melting sent her to her knees as she
cradled her hand.
“Pa! Pa!” Silas shouted as he snatched her up into his arms and ran to the sink to turn the water
on, placing her hand under the flow.
Whimpering in pain, she felt dizzy because it hurt so badly. Opening her mouth to scream at how
bad it hurt, she looked at Silas and made herself stop. She pressed her trembling lips together,
seeing the self-recrimination across her brother’s face as he inspected the damage to her hand.
“It’s okay, Silas,” she soothed him. “It doesn’t hurt.”
The palm of her hand had felt like it was on fire, but she hadn’t wanted him to know how badly it
hurt, more intent on making him feel better than herself. She never forgot that first burst of
agonizing pain, or the pain she experienced when her father and Leah had died and she was forced
to leave her family.
Bliss was still in mourning her loss of The Last Riders; it wasn’t something she was going to get
over in a single a day, if ever.
Silas and her other brothers still remained aloof. Even when she occasionally saw them around
town, they’d say a quick hello or avoid her altogether. She’d been lucky to reunite with Trudy, and
having re-established that relationship, she’d forgiven Silas and made numerous attempts to
reestablish their ties but, like Bliss, each and every overture was rejected. But deep down she
hadn’t tried to bridge the gap between them, because she knew they were safer without her. Still, it
was sad that she’d never had the opportunity to talk to Silas.
She left the note where Bliss would see it. Her new roommate was still in the healing stage, wary
of being burned, like she had all those years ago. Ginny had to earn her trust, and she was good
with that—she had the same habit.

D riving to the clubhouse, she cranked the volume up on her radio, happily singing in the privacy
of her car.
Entering the back door of the clubhouse, she saw Viper and Winter sitting at the table, drinking
coffee. “Hello,” she greeted them, going straight to the refrigerator to take out a massive package
of hamburger.
“Hi,” both of them greeted her back as Winter stood up, carrying her cup to the counter.
“I saw you were making meatloaf and potatoes for lunch. I already have the potatoes boiling, and
I cut up the vegetables. What else can I help you with?”
“If you could pull the ingredients out for the chili and start frying some of this hamburger, I can
put it together once I get the meatloaf in the oven,” Ginny said as she briskly moved around the
kitchen. During each of the meals, someone was always there to help her.
With the two of them working together, it didn’t take long to have lunch ready and set out on the
counter for the men and women to line up and fill their plates.
Constantly pulling rolls out of the oven and refilling empty platters, she didn’t have time to catch
her breath until Train, Rider, Razer, and Beth were eating at the table.
“Why don’t you take a break and join us?” Beth asked as she started loading the dishwasher.
“Thank you, but I ate lunch before I came.” Picking up what was left of the meatloaf, Ginny
carried it to the table, setting it down in the middle. “You guys can finish it off.”
Rider stabbed his fork into the meatloaf, putting it on his plate before she could move away. She
shook her head as Train used his fork to steal half off Rider’s plate. Sharing an amused look with
Razer’s wife, she stepped away from the table to finish loading the dishwasher.
Other than brief, friendly comments, none of the bikers made an effort to talk to her. Willa told
her that Viper and Lucky had warned the men that if they said anything that could be considered
flirtatious or inappropriate to her, they would be sent back to the Ohio Charter.
The men didn’t give her a second look. Personally, she didn’t think it was because they’d been
threatened. Compared to the women available to them at the club and those accessible to them in
town, she wasn’t worth risking Viper’s and Lucky’s anger. All she had to do was look in a mirror to
see that there was nothing about her that deserved another look from a man.
She wasn’t pretty, but neither was she ugly. She wasn’t tall or skinny; her body was on the “eh”
side, she didn’t have any noticeable curves either, other than the small pouch of stomach that was
the bane of her existence. Her hair was just plain brown, like everything else about her—all plain.
The great thing about being plain was that she went unnoticed. Unless it’s Carter Dawkins, she
corrected herself. She knew from the moment Dalt introduced her to him that she should have
refused the job offer.
Dalt and Carter were friends, and he had told Dalt that he needed a new receptionist when his
current one left on maternity leave. Wanting a job so she could finally move out of the Wests’ home,
which Ginny knew was why she had been introduced to Mr. Dawkins, she said yes.
She had no more than started the job and moved into the Toby’s spare room that she noticed Mr.
Dawkins was lingering excessively long at her desk to explain the job. She was a quick leaner and
hadn’t needed him standing over her shoulder to the extent he had. When he started giving her
small touches on the shoulder and arms, she moved away. Then, two weeks into the job, after they
closed the office and the other workers had left, he’d nearly raped her, but she’d managed to get
away.
She hadn’t bothered formally quitting and never went back. She hadn’t pressed charges either,
too wary of exposing the fictitious identity that Will had given her. Carter Dawkins had enough
power that a good lawyer could start snooping into her past, and Ginny didn’t want any red flags
where her identity was concerned.
The real problem was that Carter Dawkins didn’t believe in taking no for an answer. Despite her
nearly ripping his lip off when he had attacked her—enough for him to get stitches—Carter started
frequenting the diner, staring at her with frightening intensity during her shifts.
She was grateful for the jobs Willa had given her at the bakery and clubhouse, which reduced
her chances of seeing Carter to almost non-existent. Treepoint was small, but the chance of running
into him in town was no more or less than any other person, and if she did, it wouldn’t matter; she
was confined to this place because of her past.
She had already started the two crockpots for dinner when she got the vacuum out. It was quick
work, and as she was putting it back in the closet the handle caught on one of the jackets hanging
inside. Moving the jacket aside, she pushed the vacuum farther back into the closet and noticed the
name sewn on a patch on the sleeve.
Reaper.
Without thinking, she reached out, running a finger over the letters. She hadn’t heard of anyone
with that name. Goosebumps went down her arm as she wondered what type of man had earned
that nickname.
“Don’t touch it.”
Ginny jumped at the harsh voice behind her. Turning around, she saw Viper standing behind her
with Winter by his side.
“I’m sorry. I was just moving it away from the vacuum,” she explained, stepping away from the
closet when Viper stepped forward to move the jacket himself.
“Problem solved.” Hard grooves were pronounced in his cheeks as he reached into the closet and
took out the one that had his name on it before closing the door.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.” Worried that he would think she had been
snooping, she didn’t want Viper complaining to Willa and putting her on the spot for hiring her.
Winter gave her a smile as she gripped her husband’s arm. “It’s okay. Viper is sensitive about
that jacket. It was his brother’s.”
Dread filled her at the implication. “Was?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go, Winter.” He put his arm around her, directing her to the door.
Ginny felt terrible from the anguished look on Viper’s face.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, closing the closet door. “I know how painful it is losing a sibling. I lost
my sister a few years ago … the same day I lost my dad.”
Viper and Winter paused, listening.
Ginny gave Viper a bittersweet smile. “I still see her waving at me as they rode away”—Ginny
blinked back tears—“and I still have her pink jacket in my closet. I’m so sorry for your loss,” she
finished simply.
“Thank you. I’m sorry for yours also.”
Ginny nodded, moving away so they could leave. She went to the kitchen, then down to the
basement to start a load of clothes. Thankfully, there was no one there and she was able to have
time to herself to get her emotions back under control.
That the hard-as-nails president of The Last Riders’ expression had shown that same depth of
pain she felt made him more likeable and not as formidable. Losing someone you loved would bring
even the strongest man to their knees. Loss struck a devastating blow regardless of the person’s
ability to withstand the pain, searing their soul forever. Viper, Bliss, and she had been marked; the
only difference was how deep the burn went.
Hearing steps coming down the basement stairs, Ginny turned, seeing Jewell carrying a basket of
clothes.
“Sorry, I meant to bring these down last night. You mind? I want to wear the top tonight.”
“No problem. I haven’t even started the load.” Taking the basket of clothes, she set it on the
folding table, then picked up a blue top, accidently dislodging a set of keys. Seeing them fall, she
clasped them in her hand mid-air.
“Good catch.” Jewell grinned, taking the keys from her. Then her eyes widened on Ginny’s
exposed palm.
“Damn, that must have hurt like a motherfucker,” she said sympathetically.
Sorting through the rest of the clothes, Ginny saw that Jewell was still looking at her hand
curiously. “You know the old saying.”
“Which one?”
Ginny gave her a rueful smile. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y- S E V E N

G inny raced around the house, getting everything organized. Making sure her bath towel was
hanging before grabbing her curling rod, she went back to her bedroom to shove it in her
suitcase, then zipped it closed. Wheeling the small suitcase to the steps, she grabbed it by the
handle.
“Do you want me to—”
“No, I don’t want you to fix me anything to eat. And no, I don’t want you to bring me anything
back from Lexington. Just go. Have a good time at the basketball game.”
Ginny brushed aside her roommate’s determined effort not to become friendly with her, despite
the fact that Bliss didn’t mind borrowing something of hers when it suited her needs. “I’ll bring you
a T-shirt. You can’t live in Kentucky and not have a Go Cat’s T-shirt.”
“I don’t have a problem with it, and neither should you.”
Ginny didn’t let the grumpy response get to her. She still didn’t think Bliss liked her, but she
thought she’d gradually get there … in about ten or fifteen years.
Bliss looked up from her magazine. “Do you have to be in a good mood all the time? It’s
depressing.”
“What’s not to be in a good mood about? I have the rest of the day off, won tickets to a basketball
game that everyone in the state wants to go to, and I get a free hotel room with dinner included.”
“I can think of a few things that would put me in a better mood.”
“As I don’t have a handsome boyfriend like Drake, the basketball game will have to do for me.”
Bliss’s eyes grew curious. “Aren’t there any men in town that you’re interested in?”
“No,” she answered truthfully.
“Not even any of The Last Riders?”
Ginny shuddered in mock horror. “God, no.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not.” Ginny laughed. “None of them are my type.”
“What is your type?”
“I don’t know, but when I find out, you’ll be the first to know.” Opening the door, she wheeled her
suitcase through it. “Don’t forget to lock the door, and—”
“Bye.”
Ginny blew her a kiss, just to see Bliss’s reaction, before closing the door swiftly at the magazine
that came flying her way.
“She’s definitely starting to like me.”
Tossing her suitcase in the trunk she got in the car and buckled her seatbelt. She turned the
radio on before driving off with a grin. She waited until she was out of the city limits, then cranked
the radio up even higher, lowering the window to let the breeze hit her. Pressing down on the pedal
when the speed limit showed 60, Ginny was bouncing along to the music.
Pure freedom called to her, as if the good ole, reliable Ginny had given way to the reckless,
carefree one that she kept to herself.
The drive to Lexington was always exhilarating. For those four hours, she could let that side of
her run free and wild, that it was only ever in the confines of her car didn’t bother her.
Arriving in Lexington, she drove directly to her hotel. Giving a low whistle when she walked into
the lobby, she gazed around, awestruck. Checking in, she took her key, then went to the elevator,
hitting the eighth-floor button.
A good-looking guy got inside with her, pressing the tenth. “You’re not going to the game
tonight?” he asked.
“You kidding? Those tickets cost a fortune.”
“A few of my friends are meeting up at the bar to watch the game; stop by and I’ll buy you a
beer,” he invited.
“Sorry, been traveling all day and planning on getting a good night’s sleep.” Giving him a spent
smile, when the door opened she wheeled her suitcase out of the elevator.
 Looking down at her key, she went down the hall, coming to a stop three doors away from the
stairwell. Sliding the electronic key into the door, she went inside, giving another appreciative
whistle. She locked the door, reached into her front pocket to take out the door stopper, then slid it
under the door. Next, she closed the curtains before going to the desk to drag the chair across the
floor, bracing the back under the doorknob.
Turning the dim nightlight on beside the bed, she turned the covers down, messing the bed up.
Putting her hands on her hips, she glanced around the room, satisfied.
She wheeled her suitcase to the connecting door, opened it, and went into the empty room,
locking the door.
She looked at the television facing the two beds. “Who’s winning?” she asked the two men who
were each sitting on the beds.
“It’s tied,” Hammer told her, reaching for a handful of popcorn from the bag sitting on his lap.
“How was the drive?” Jonas asked, eating from his own bag.
“Fine.” Walking to the other connecting door, she reached out and opened it. “Don’t forget to put
the safety lock on the door before you go to sleep,” she reminded them. “Night, guys.”
“Night.”
Ginny was greeted to the sounds of squeals as five women jumped from the bed to take turns
hugging her.
“I brought my scissors. Your hair is a mess.”
“My hair is fine, Sex Piston. I’m trying to let it grow out.” Seeing her disappointment, Ginny
caved. “You can trim the ends.”
“Girl, when you going to stuff your bra the way I told you to? Those puppies on you aren’t going
to get you laid.” Ginny smacked Crazy Bitch’s hands away from her breasts.
Giving Fat Louise a kiss on the cheek and a hug as she patted her baby bump, she then turned to
Killyama.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Ginny gave her a mischievous look and did it anyway. Killyama stood stiffly as she received her
hug and peck on the cheek. At least she didn’t beat the hell out of her. Giving her friends the chance
to say hi first, T.A. stepped forward, holding her arms open. Ginny threw her arms around her,
hugging her back.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you more,” Ginny whispered back. “Trudy, your hair looks amazing.”
“She looks hot, doesn’t she?” Sex Piston bragged.
“We’re missing the game,” Killyama said, going back on the bed and taking a slice of pizza from
one of the gigantic boxes sitting in the middle. The hotel room had two queen-sized beds and a
couch. There were pizza boxes on each of them and several bottles of tequila sitting around the
room.
“Kentucky is losing.”
“They’ll catch up,” Ginny said as she and T.A. held hands and sat on the edge of the bed.
Giving them writhing glances, Ginny took her shoes off, then climbed onto the bed. “You guys
started without me?”
“Bitch, tequila waits for no woman.”
Ginny nabbed two chicken wings and two pieces of pizza, putting them on her paper plate. “Who
was suckered into buying this time?” Ginny leaned sideways to grab one of the tequila bottles just
out of Killyama’s reach.
“We all bought our own.” T.A. snatched another bottle away from Killyama’s reach.
“Since when? Not one of you bitches have paid me back.”
“I told you I’d pay you back when I find an ATM,” Trudy said, trying to sneak another one away
from Killyama.
“You don’t even have an ATM card.” Killyama snorted in disbelief.
“Yes, I do.”
“Then let me see it,” Killyama said, calling her bluff.
“I left it at home. Come on, let me have one of the bottles.” Her sister gave a pout that made Fat
Louise proud, sneakily trying to reach for the bottle again.
“Don’t make me take out my taser. I’ll let you have one when we get home,” she said snidely.
“Be nice, Killyama. Let her have it,” Ginny said, opening her own bottle to take a drink.
“Why should I?”
“Being nice has its own rewards,” she said piously.
“Who in the hell told you that shit?” Sex Piston angrily pointed a slice of pizza at her.
“Pastor Dean.”
All in the hotel room started cracking up.
“That’s convenient.” Wiping a tear of laughter away, Crazy Bitch continued a game of tug-of-war
over the tequila bottle with Trudy.
Ginny settled herself comfortably on the bed next to her sister, sitting cross-legged and propping
the tequila bottle on the inside of her thigh. Taking a bite of her pizza, she gazed lovingly at the
women gathered around her.
 “I heard you had fun at your graduation party, Crazy Bitch.”
The women stopped laughing and drinking.
Ginny swallowed her bite of pizza around the lump in her throat. It wouldn’t be first or the last
milestone she had missed since being reunited with Trudy. Ginny had to constantly remind herself
that it was yet another price she had to pay for her actions when she had been too young to
understand some ramifications were lifelong.
“Willa told me that thumb trick worked like a charm on Jenna.” Ginny gave a small laugh, trying
to lighten the atmosphere.
“Didn’t work as well as biting a motherfucker’s lip off, but you have to work with what’s
available.”
“Yes, you do.” Ginny took another drink of her tequila, trying to wash the memories of Carter
Dawkins away.
“How are you liking working for The Last Riders?” Sex Piston astutely changed the subject.
“I love it. It’s less work than the diner and I get to work with Willa most of the time.”
“She make some more off those bourbon cupcakes? Crazy Bitch and Killyama both swear they
were ninety proof.”
“More like a hundred.” Ginny informed them, thinking of the innocent woman’s reaction when
she had suggested that she should buy a lower-proof bottle or a flavored extract after two more
batches had failed. Crazy Bitch, Trudy, and Killyama had reaped the rewards from the failures. Fat
Louise was pregnant, and Sex Piston was breastfeeding and had complained about having to miss
out on the cupcakes that Ginny had renamed from drunken to obliterate.
“You like her a lot, don’t you?”
Ginny heard the faint tinge of jealously in her sister’s voice.
“It makes it easier when we have to go long periods without seeing each other.”
Trudy reached out, placing a hand on her knee. “At least it’s better since we’ve become friends
with Beth. Hammer nearly killed us when he found out about the stunt we pulled at the gas station,
becoming friends with her. He still gives us hell about it.”
“He was only letting you meet a couple of times a year. I told him I was tired of my bitch missing
her baby sister.” Sex Piston shrugged. “It works a hell of a lot better this way. You get to see each
other more, and we can keep track of what’s going on with each other. Plus”—her expression
softened—“I was able to add another bitch to my arsenal.”
Ginny knew the women had grown close to Beth. While Trudy was jealous of Willa, truthfully,
Ginny felt the same toward Beth. She had the relationship Ginny wanted and was able to share
those momentous occasions that Ginny had missed—weddings, births, graduation ceremonies—and
would never get a chance at. The time she was able to spend with them was always too brief and
spent joking around, like when they would meet at one of the dirt roads on the way to Jamestown to
pass things off to each other like the cupcakes or when Hammer organized a night for them to
spend together within the safety of Jonas and his presence.
Ginny took another drink of her tequila, letting the burn dry the tears she wanted to shed each
time she missed a memory with her sister, like a precious stone that was given to someone else.
“How’s Lucky enjoying being pastor at the church again?” This time it was Trudy who initiated
the change in conversation.
“From how happy Willa looks when she comes in to work in the morning, it’s working out for
them.”
“How’s her shoulder?”
“She says it’s fine. I’m still careful making sure she doesn’t lift anything too heavy.”
The group burst into laughter when Fat Louise almost toppled off the bed after Trudy tried to do
a sneak attack to get her bottle away from Killyama.
“Give her the bottle. I’ll lend her the money.”
“I’ll pay you back, Ginny. I promise.” Her sister winked at her. Money went through her sister’s
hands like water. If someone needed money more than she did, Trudy had an open heart and wallet.
“Yeah … when Hell freezes over.” Killyama started to hand the bottle to Trudy, then stopped,
pulling it back to tuck it under her armpit. “I’ll give it to her for free if you do a little reconnaissance
mission for me.”
Ginny raised her eyebrows at Killyama. “What do you want me to find out.”
“Ask one of those Last Rider bitches how low Shade’s tats go.”
Tracing the lip of her bottle, she gave her a steady stare. “I’ll find out for you, if you take on a
mission for me.”
Killyama’s interest piqued, she leaned forward eagerly. “What you want me to find out?”
“How Willa’s shoulder was really hurt.”
“Little B, you’ve got a fucking deal.”
 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y- E I G H T

“D o you ever get jealous of Beth and Lily?” Laying her head on Trudy’s shoulder, Ginny stared
up at the ceiling.
“Sometimes.” Trudy kept her voice just as low as the other women were sprawled out on the two
beds.
“Willa offered to co-sign for me to buy her house. We’re almost there, Trudy. We’ll have a home
to call our own.”
“Bliss might have something to say about that.”
“She’s had it rough. I like her a lot.”
“Baby sister, you like everyone a lot.”
“We’re almost there.”
“Evangeline ….”
“I told you not to call me that anymore.”
“Ginny, a home isn’t everything.”
“It’s everything to me. You belong when you own a home. If you want to move, it’s because you
want to move, or you can’t afford it. You have the power to stay or go. It doesn’t matter what
someone else wants you to do.”
“You belong.”
“No, I don’t. But I will,” she vowed.
“You really like working for The Last Riders? You sure it’s not too much?”
“It’s not. They share the work. Even the guys do as much as the women. The only trouble I had is
when I accidently moved Reaper’s jacket.”
“Reaper?”
“Viper’s brother. I didn’t know he lost his brother.”
“He was the one who disappeared in Treepoint when you first went to live with the Wests.”
“That was Viper’s brother?”
“Yes.”
Ginny continued to stare up at the ceiling. “It has to be hard on the others in the club, as well.
They all seem close to me.”
“Closer than you think.”
Ginny turned to stare at her sister. “What does that mean?”
“It means, stay downstairs like Willa told you to.” Trudy rolled to her side, displacing her head to
raise onto her elbow so she could look down at Ginny. “Don’t get interested in the men in the club.”
“I won’t.”
“I mean it, Evangeline. They don’t have relationships like most people do.”
“I told you I won’t. Don’t worry.”
“It would be hard not to; you’re around them a lot. They have a lot of hot going on there.”
Ginny shoved a pillow under her head. “You think some of The Last Riders are hot?”
“I’d give out to a couple of them … or four.”
“Which ones?”
“Rider. Come on, tell me there has to be one that gets a one or two looks from you. All those tats
and hard bodies … Tell me which one?”
Ginny considered the men she’d come into contact with, including those who weren’t The Last
Riders and drew a blank.
“Do you believe in soul mates?” she asked her sister, hearing Fat Louise snoring on the other
bed.
“Soul mates? You mean someone who’s meant just for you?”
Ginny knew she sounded ridiculous. “Kind of. Someone not only meant for you, but they’re the
reason you were created.”
“If there is, I’m in trouble,” Trudy joked.
Ginny turned her head on the pillow. “I do, and I think he’s dead.”
 Trudy’s smile disappeared at Ginny’s seriousness. “Evangeline, you’re just over-romanticizing
love.”
“He’s dead, Trudy. I feel it. I don’t feel anything toward men that I should feel. I’ve always felt
different. When other girls talk about guys, even when you do, I don’t feel anything. I just feel sad.”
“Maybe there’s another reason that you don’t feel that way. Could it be possible that your soul
mate isn’t a man?”
“I thought of that, but no. I just know it felt as if he was out there waiting for me to find him.
Then … nothing. I think he was in a car crash or something, but that wasn’t meant to happen to
him. I think some people have lost their soul mates, and that’s why they can’t be happy with who
they’re with.” Ginny gave a soft, self-depreciating laugh. “You don’t have to tell me. You think I’m
crazy, don’t you?”
“I don’t think you’re crazy. If you believe in soul mates, then I do.”
“I’m probably wrong—”
“I don’t think you’re wrong. Stud is my soul mate. There isn’t another man on earth who would
put up with me,” Sex Piston said from her other side.
“I know who mine is, but the fucker doesn’t realize it yet,” Killyama said from the other bed.
“You all are full of shit. There’s no such thing. Listen up, cupcake, there are only two things you
need to know—there’s good sex, and there’s bad sex. If you have good sex, then you’re golden.
Don’t worry about that other shit.” Crazy Bitch tilted her bottle to her lips after she finished giving
her opinion.
“How about the third alternative?”
Ginny could tell that Trudy was trying not to crack up.
“What’s that?” Crazy Bitch took the bait.
“Really bad sex, which is what you usually have,” Killyama said roasting Crazy Bitch’s sex life.
Crazy Bitch didn’t argue on that point. “Three things, then.”
“Cade is mine,” Fat Louise mumbled.
“There’s no such thing. Now roll over; you’re hogging my part of the bed. And Killyama having a
soul mate is the biggest crock of all. I’ll kiss her ass if she has one.”
“Pucker up, bitch, because I do—”
The connecting door flung open, and Hammer’s body was silhouetted in the darkness. “Shut the
fuck up before Jonas and I blow our fucking brains out!” he snarled.
“You should ask him. He’s a man; get his opinion,” Trudy egged her on.
Ginny decided to take her sister’s advice. “Hammer, is there—”
The slamming door was the only answer she received.
“He’s an asshole when he’s tired.” She found that out when she was three years old.
Trudy covered her mouth to keep from laughing.
Killyama snorted. “He an asshole when he’s wide awake.”
“Maybe you should go ask Jonas,” Trudy egged her on again between giggles.
“Trudy …” Ginny rose straight up in bed. “Do you hear that?”
Her sister’s protective instincts had her hastily rising next to her. “No, I—”
Ginny whacked her with a pillow before she could dodge it, but before she pulled it back, Trudy
jerked it out of her hand and whacked her back.
“What the fuck …?” Sex Piston snarled. “Give me that fucking thing.”
“Get her, Sex Piston!” Crazy Bitch yelled. “Show her who’s boss—”
The sound of the connecting door being flung open had all the women dropping like stones to the
mattresses, unmoving. When Hammer turned the lights on, everyone pretended to be asleep.
“I hear one more squeak from this room, I’m going to make Ginny go sleep in the other room,” he
growled. “Not one … more … sound!” Turning the light off, Hammer slammed the door behind him.
“He has issues,” Killyama excused, loyally trying to defend him.
“Yeah …” Ginny smothered her laughter with the pillow, afraid he would come back. “He doesn’t
have a soul mate.”

“T hey’re gone. Wait an hour, then you can leave.”

“Okay. Wait. I need a favor,” Ginny said before he could leave.
Hammer pushed off the connecting doorway, coming farther into the hotel room. “What is it?”
“I want you and Jonas to find me something that I can use against the Wests. They shouldn’t be
foster parents.”
Hammer stiffened. “I wouldn’t have put you in a home where you could have been hurt. Neither
would Will.”
“I told you that I don’t want to talk about what happened after I had to leave the Coleman’s.”
Despite saying she didn’t want to talk about it, she couldn’t resist adding a hurtful reproach. “You or
Will could have fixed it for me to stay if you wanted to.”
His lips tightened in a grim line. “It wasn’t up to us.”
 “Who was it up to, then?” she snapped. The hurt at leaving the Colemans was just as strong
today as it had been when it happened.
“Silas.”
Ginny turned her cheek away as if she had been smacked. “Can you do it or not?” Pushing her
hurt feelings aside, it was too late to make a difference in her life but the information could help
another. She hated to play dirty, but for another little girl, she would.
“I’ll see what I can do. What are you going to do with the information once you have it?”
Ginny was aware she couldn’t show a connection to Hammer, but there was one person who she
trusted wholeheartedly who would do the right thing.
“Give it to Pastor Dean.”

“H ow’s the game going?” Ginny grimaced as she took a seat on the bleachers as a middle-
schooler took a shot at the basketball net, missing it and letting the opposing team take
control of the ball.
The man coldly turned his head at her question, taking her in, then dismissing her. Ginny didn’t
hold his rebuff against him; she had heard which physical assets attracted Bridge, and her double
AAs were nowhere in the vicinity of the size of Willa’s, which he had insultingly remarked on to hurt
her kindhearted boss. The coldness Lucky’s former military friend displayed toward Ginny paled in
comparison to how he had behaved toward Willa. Treating her to crude insults was nothing
compared to the damage he’d caused Willa when he’d injured her shoulder.
“Depends which team you’re rooting for.”
“Which one are you rooting for?” she asked as she watched the gangly boys run on the gym floor.
“Neither.”
Tilting her head to the side, she looked away from the game. “Then why are you here?”
“None of your fucking business. There’s a whole gymnasium of other seats, find one.”
“I wondered if you were just rude to Willa because she is married to Lucky.” Ginny laid her purse
casually down next to him, feeling Bridge direct his flinty gaze at her instead of the game. “Thanks
for answering that question for me.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“A friend of Willa’s.”
“Lucky send you?”
“You know Lucky better than that, or you should since you’ve made it your life’s mission to kill
the woman he loves.”
“Let me guess; you’re wired, so I’ll incriminate myself.”
“No. Sadly, Willa doesn’t want you in jail. That’s why she didn’t press charges against you. Why
haven’t you taken Lucky’s advice and leave town?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Or not until you’ve managed to make Lucky pay for your brother’s death, which we both know
he wasn’t responsible for.”
“Shade sent you, didn’t he?”
Ginny shook her head. “No. I told you, I’m a friend of Willa’s. Technically, she’s really my boss,
but she’s more of a friend than a boss.”
“Like I give a fuck?” Bridge reached out, placing his hand on her thigh. “Is this to put me off my
guard and give Shade a chance to take me out?”
“No. I came here to offer you this.” Ginny reached inside her purse to take out a card, she then
gave it to Bridge. “I’ve arranged for you to receive counseling to help you deal with your brother’s
death. The sessions are already paid for ….”
Bridge flipped the card away, sending it falling to the bleachers below.
Ginny stared at it dispassionately. “You don’t want to hurt Lucky because of your brother, it’s
because he’s everything you’re not.”
She didn’t flinch at the fury darkening his features.
“Piss off. If I don’t listen to Lucky’s fake sermons, then I fucking don’t want to listen to one
coming from another whore of the Last Rider’s.”
Taking her purse, Ginny stood up to leave. “I feel sorry for you,” she said sincerely.
“Don’t feel sorry for me.” He sneered at her contemptuously.
“Fine. Then I won’t.” Making her way down the bleachers, she went out of the gym to the
parking lot, where she climbed in the front seat of a black SUV.
“I can tell from your face that he didn’t take you up on the counseling sessions.”
“Do you ever get tired of being right, Hammer?”
“No.”
Ginny had known it would be a futile endeavor to try to talk some sense into Bridge, but she had
wanted to give him a chance. When Killyama told her about how Willa’s shoulder had been hurt,
she’d been terrified at how close she had come to losing her friend.
 Bridge had lured her to the side of a cliff and where he’d held a girl at gun point. She’d once
been Willa’s a foster child. He’d threatened her life if Willa refused to jump off the cliff. Willa would
have, but the girl bit Bridge. In the scuffle of knocking her off him, she fell off the cliff. Willa caught
her in time, but sent them spiraling down the side. If Lucky hadn’t hired a private bodyguard for
her, they both would have died. She’d been very fortunate to only have sustained a shoulder injury.
“You sure you want me to do this?”
Ginny stared out the windshield at the school where Bridge was sitting inside, still not giving a
damn that he nearly caused two deaths. Willa was a sitting duck against a man like Bridge. Her
gentleness and caring would make her an easy target. Pastor Dean knew that as well as she did.
Bridge’s life was on borrowed time, and Ginny owed Pastor Dean too much to let him live the rest of
his life with a former friend’s death on his conscience.
“I’m sure.”
At her assurance, Hammer pressed the button on the side of his radio. “It’s a go.”
They watched when the crowd began leaving the gym. Ginny spotted Bridge when he came
outside, walking toward his motorcycle. Just as she put his leg over the seat, several men sprang
from the nearby cars.
He was handcuffed and stuffed into the back of one of the cars. It was over in less than sixty
seconds.
“He’s not going to appreciate being called back on active duty,” Hammer remarked.
“Where will you send him?”
“I haven’t decided. If he ever gets his head back on straight, I want him on my team. Before his
brother’s death and this need for vengeance, he used to be a hell of an officer.”
“You’ll get him the help he needs?”
“Yes,” he assured her. “On another note, I couldn’t find anything on the Wests—just like Will and
I told you. They keep a pretty clean reputation.”
“Thank you for trying. If you don’t mind driving me to my car, I have an early day tomorrow.”
Hammer started the SUV, then drove them the thirty-minutes back to her car without any idle
conversations, both lost in their own thoughts.
When he pulled his vehicle alongside hers, which she’d parked on a dark road out of sight and
sound range, she grabbed the door handle.
“Kid?” His quiet voice stopped her from getting out. “Stay out of trouble.”
Ginny turned to look at him from over her shoulder, giving him an innocent look. “I don’t know
what you mean.” After a roll of his eyes, she said sincerely, “Thanks, again. I appreciate your help.”
Hammer wasn’t buying it. “All I’m asking is don’t get caught.”
Ginny jauntily pointed two fingers to her forehead in a salute. “Yes, sir.”
“You’re the reason I never had kids,” Hammer complained, putting the SUV back in gear.
“Aw,” Ginny laughed. “You know you love me.” Quickly shutting the door before he could tell her
what a pain in his ass she was, Ginny slipped into her car, giving him another salute as he waited for
her to pull safely away. Her headlights beaming into the front of his vehicle highlighted the one-
finger salute she received back.

G inny sat at small table in the diner beside the window that gave the view of the street in front
of the sheriff’s office. Sipping coffee in lieu of breakfast, she watched traffic pass. Seeing one
of the cars she was looking, Ginny rose from the table to go to the register to pay. Carly took her
money as if it were contaminated. Letting the woman’s dislike roll off her back, she was pushing the
restaurant door open to leave when she saw the second car she was waiting for drive by.
She started moving, tennis shoes going faster as she sprinted around the side of the building,
walking past her car, and making her way to the dumpster. Nimbly climbing the fence, she dropped
down to the other side and kept to the trees, as she made her way around the side of the house.
When she got reached the back of the house, she just casually walked out of the tree-lined yard as if
she was supposed to be there. Ginny didn’t think the neighbor on the other side would be able to
see her, but she didn’t waste time inserting the key she’d kept into the back door.
Entering the Wests’ house, she took her tennis shoes off and carried them under her arm as she
went upstairs. The sight of her old bedroom in the same pristine shape that she’d had to keep it in
when she was younger had her heart beating in anger. The motivation of getting Darcy out of their
house had her wanting to scream when she couldn’t find anything.
Going to their bedroom, Ginny had to fight back years of being told never to never enter their
bedroom. She took a second to glance around before she began searching through the drawers and
closets, looking for something to use against them.
Ginny exited the closet, placing her hands on her hips as she stared around the bedroom once
again. “Think, Ginny, think,” she told herself. There had to be a reason she was never allowed to
clean their room. Two days a week, she’d had to clean their house from top to bottom, except for
this one room. Lisa had lifted her stricture about staying out of other rooms in the house when she
had fired a housekeeper that used to come regularly. Why pay someone when Lisa could make
Ginny do it for free? Lisa had nitpicked every chore she had been given and had made her dread
cleaning days with a passion.
“Dammit.” Glancing down at her watch, she saw she needed to leave before Lisa returned back
from dropping Darcy off at the daycare. Lisa was a creature of habit, and Ginny had seen her
dropping of Darcy off at the daycare when she was still working at the diner.
She was about to give up and was closing the closet doors behind her when felt a metal grate
under her foot. Bending down, she used her fingers to pull the heating vent upward. Disappointed,
she closed it but searched for another. Opening the closet again, she grinned when she saw a tip of
one peeking out from under a shoe box.
“Please … please …,” she chanted as she opened the grate in a desperate attempt to find
something and nearly gave a cheer when she saw a shadow.
Sinking down on her bottom, she lifted the metal top and pulled out a box out. Unfastening the
lock, Ginny wanted to crow in triumph. Making sure she remembered the position of the objects,
she searched through them, her triumph slowing turning to failure at only finding sex toys. Hell,
Ginny couldn’t even blame her for that with a little girl in the house.
She closed the box in disappointment, though, glad she had worn gloves. When she reached out
to slide it back in the hole, a metal hook on the base of the box caught her eye. Laying the box on its
side, she pulled the hook and closed her eyes in relief.
Flipping through the stacks of pictures, she found several t multiple prints. Taking one that had
Lisa having sex with a man she recognized, she closed the box then slid it back in its hiding spot.
Putting the picture in her back pocket, she then made sure everything was how it was when she
entered.
She was passing Darcy’s door when she stopped and went inside. Removing a glove, she placed
the glass of water on the coaster on the little girl’s nightstand, left the room, and went downstairs
to let herself out the back door.
After putting her shoes on, she returned the way she had come, throwing the gloves in the back-
alley dumpster.
She was unlocking her car door when she saw Lisa’s car pass, heading toward her home. Once
inside the car, she took out the picture. The woman who had called her trash too many times to
count had numerous lovers; it had been hard to choose which one to take, but the one she was
staring at showed who the real trash was.
Disgusted at Lisa’s choice of lover, she reached into her glove box and found an empty envelope
to seal it inside. Locking the picture in her glove box, Ginny started her car. She started singing
along with the song on the radio, swinging out into the early morning traffic, and headed to work all
while deciding who would be best to bring Lisa to her come-to-Jesus moment. She’d always planned
to give any evidence she could find to Pastor Dean, but she needed someone a little more cutthroat
than the good pastor. She didn’t want to give Lisa the ability to explain the picture. No, she needed
someone less holy ….

“A nyone need a refill?” Raising the coffee pot over the table in the kitchen, she interrupted
Viper as he talked to Shade, Rider, and Cash.
Rider and Cash motioned for her to refill theirs.
“Sorry to interrupt you, Viper,” Ginny apologized. “I’ve been promising myself to clean the coffee
machine for the last week, and I want to today if no one wants anymore.”
“No, go ahead.”
Moving away, she pushed the button for the clean cycle, then went back to unloading the
dishwasher.
She was laying food out for to prepare cooking lunch when the men stood to leave. Through her
lashes, she saw Shade reach for his leather jacket, his hands going to his pockets as Cash held the
back door open for the men. Letting Viper and Rider go first, she saw Cash give Shade a curious
frown when he didn’t immediately go out the door.
“What’s that?” she heard Cash say to him, and her heart stopped beating, waiting for Shade’s
answer.
“Nothing.” Motioning for Cash to go ahead, Shade placed his hand on the door as he used his
other hand to slide the picture into his back pocket.
Raising her head, she felt her heart restart now that no one was looking her way.
Shade went out the door, and then her heart stopped again when he turned. Ginny nearly
dropped the bag of potatoes she was carrying to the counter when his eyes met hers.
“Did you forget something?” she asked, holding the potatoes closer to her chest. Even though
she’d left the picture for him to find, the man scared her to death.
“I was about to ask you the same question,” he said, raising a quizzical brow.
Deciding to dive feet-first into an unholy alliance she hoped that Shade would accept, she laid
the potatoes down on the counter. “Are you a holy man, Shade?”
“Do I seem like a man of God to you?” his face was impassive as his question was more of an
answer. “What are you wanting, Ginny?”
Ignoring the foreboding chill that almost had her second-guessing herself, Ginny bluntly told him
her tale. “I went through a lot of trouble for that picture to make it impossible for the West’s to
continuing being foster parents. I want it placed in the right hands.”
“So you want me to give it to Knox?”
“I could have done that myself. No, I want you to give it to Tate Porter.”
“Why Tate, and not the sheriff?”
“Knox will have to give it to Ms. Tackett, and she and Lisa are friends. Little Darcy will be
eighteen before she gets around to removing her.”
“Why Tate, then?”
“Lisa has a bad habit of lying. I heard her laughing with Dalt about one she told to Sutton
Creech. She bragged that it sent Sutton running with her tail tucked between her legs. She’s back
in town, and I think that picture will give Tate a bargaining chip to keep Lisa out of his and Sutton’s
life forever. In reward for giving him that picture, I want you to get his promise that he’ll get her to
stop being a foster parent.”
“Why not confront Lisa yourself?”
“She’s going to be furious. I don’t want her taking it out of Willa when I’m not around since I
work for her. She’ll be afraid to mess with Tate.”
He astutely watched as she began washing the potatoes. “Why don’t you give it to him instead of
involving me?”
“I can’t. The Porters and the Colemans are feuding.”
“I didn’t think you were still close to your family?”
“I’m not,” Ginny acknowledged. “But I’ll always be a Coleman.”
“I’ll see what I can do. I’m going to town; do you need anything while I’m out?”
“No, I’m good.”
Once the potatoes were cleaned, she set them aside, then started cleaning the house. The rest of
the morning flew by. When she saw Shade in line for lunch, neither mentioned that morning.
The kitchen was still full when it was time to leave for the bakery. Making sure Beth and Lily had
everything they needed to finish lunch, she left. Opening her car door, she paused from getting
inside at the sight of a plastic bag sitting on the bucket seat. Picking it up, she got inside, and once
the door was closed, Ginny reached inside to pull out a bag of candy. Grinning, she opened the bag
and took out her favorite. Unwrapping the sweet treat, she popped it into her mouth, then opened
her purse to dump the rest of the candy inside.
“Darn it, Shade,” Ginny muttered out loud to herself as she started her car. “If I get a cavity, I’m
sending you the bill.”
 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y- N I N E
G I N N Y 2 0 / G AV I N 3 3

G inny placed her clean juice glass back in the cabinet, in the neat row of the same glasses.
Grinning down at the kitten that was rubbing against her leg for attention, she couldn’t
resist picking her new baby into her arms. “I can’t play with you now, I have to get ready for work.”
She cooed, carrying the kitten into the living room to lay her onto the couch. “Play with your toy.”
Laying a plastic mouse within the cat’s reach Ginny laughed when the toy was ignored in favor of
kneading the couch cushion. Glad it was a secondhand couch, she could see another one was in her
near future. Taking her cell phone, she then went upstairs to the hallway bathroom to finish getting
ready for work.
She could have easily moved into the bedroom with the en suite bathroom now that Bliss married
Drake and was the new mother of the Wests’ former foster child, Darcy. Ginny had no idea how
Shade had accomplished that, but the next morning, when she had gone to work after giving him
the picture, Willa had told her that Darcy had been placed in another home. She hadn’t stayed in
foster care for long. Then Drake had asked Bliss to marry him, and they had become a family before
Christmas.
Ginny hadn’t taken Bliss’s larger room, deciding to save it for Trudy for as soon as Hammer gave
the go-ahead and allowed her to spend the occasional night. They were just waiting to live together
permanently until he felt confident enough that Trudy was no longer on Allerton’s watch list.
Both she and Trudy thought Hammer was being overly cautious, but their concerns with the
other’s safety had them agreeing to wait. Trudy had already tested Hammer’s patience enough by
telling Sex Piston, Killyama, Fat Louise, and Crazy Bitch their secrets.
He willingly admitted he screwed up by placing both Killyama and Trudy in the same town,
making it easier for him to monitor them. Their grandmother had wanted to give Trudy a fresh start
without the memories of before, so he’d moved them to Jamestown. It was also where he’d relocated
Peyton and Killyama. Knowing the town was small, there was likelihood that they would meet, but
them forming a friendship hadn’t been on his radar.
Hammer’s game changer had been the friendship that Trudy formed with Fat Louise when they
lived next door to each other. It had been the catalyst that had drawn the girls together and
cemented when Sex Piston had been attacked and nearly killed on the school bus in middle school.
The incident forged the friendship into the group of five, who would kick anyone’s ass that messed
with them. Even then, Hammer underestimated that the women would discuss the secrets they’d
been told repeatedly not to.
While Hammer maintained his distance from Trudy, he hadn’t Killyama. Both Jonas and Hammer
had taken active roles in her life.
It was when the girls were arrested for fighting at a Dairy Queen with bitches from another high
school that Trudy recognized Hammer from the day they’d been rescued. From then on, Hammer’s
well-laid plan had gone downhill. Both girls had figured out Hammer’s goal was to protect them—
Killyama from her father, Tim Cooper, and Trudy from Allerton. That was when they brought Sex
Piston, Fat Louise, and Crazy Bitch into their secrets, making a pact to defend each other to their
deaths.
Fat Louise had come up with the idea that if Hammer put them close enough to watch them both,
then it made sense he had done the same for Evangeline. When confronted, Hammer denied it, but
none of them had believed him. When that failed, they had gone out to local gatherings giving Trudy
the chance to find her sister.
It wasn’t until after starting a fight at a local soccer match that Hammer caved and told Trudy
the truth.
“You have to stop, T.A.”
“We were never meant to be separated this long!”
“It’s not safe enough.”
 “When is it going to be?”
“Only Evangeline can answer that question.”
“What if she never remembers?”
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
“I want the truth!”
Trudy told her that it was only when all the girls had broken into tears that Hammer relented.
“I don’t believe Allerton thinks Evangeline is dead.”
“He has to… Nothing has happened to me. If he thought that, then why hasn’t he come after
me?”
“He could be waiting for you to lead him to her. I don’t want to take the chance, do you?”
“He’s not watching,” Trudy argued. “You’re being anal, like you are over everything!”
“You think you girls are ready to take on the big shots? Killyama, did you think your father could
take care of himself?”
“Of course. He was the leader that gave you your position. I might have hated him, but he could
kick ass.”
“Not enough to prevent himself or his wife from being killed.”
Trudy had said that it was one of the scariest moments of her life when Hammer had told them.
Killyama retorted, “It was a murder/suicide.”
“It was made to look that way. Whoever it was, was that good. It wasn’t fucking suicide. His wife
didn’t kill him. She knew he had Peyton on the side, and she didn’t care.”
“If that’s true, why hasn’t any of the other team members been targeted who were there that
day?”
“Because, Killyama, Tim didn’t break. Even though he knew they were going to die. If he didn’t
give them the information, he didn’t break. He had a safeguard that was supposed to go off if
something happened to him unexpectedly. It didn’t go off. I think Tim knew someone was trying to
find Evangeline.”
“Fine, Hammer, but I need to know my sister is happy, that she doesn’t need me.”
Sex Piston had told her what had finally swayed Hammer. “Your sister cried like a fucking baby,
until he gave in.”
“She’s happy; I’m sure of it, Trudy. Evangeline misses you. She asks all the time how you’re
doing, but she doesn’t need you.”
“How do you know?” Trudy asked, not taking his word for it.
“She calls me all the fucking time. Evangeline calls to tell me how much she misses you and asks
how you’re doing. And every time she calls, I ask if she needs anything and she always tells me no.”
“Is she close to us? Like Killyama and I are?”
“No.”
Trudy had told her later that she always believed he’d lied when he told her no.
“Can I see a picture of her? I want to see what she looks like now.”
“No, it isn’t possible. What if you do see her and want to talk to her?”
“So, she is close?”
Caught in a trap of his own making, Hammer remained silent.
“Just show me one picture, and we’ll get off your back, and I won’t ask again until you say it’s
okay? Please?”
When the girls had joined in the request, Hammer caved. “I’ll see what I can do, but if I do, you
won’t be able to keep it.”
“Anything, I just want to see what she looks like. Does she look like me?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t seen her. I’ve only talked to her on the phone.”
Trudy told her it had taken him a week to show the picture of Ginny standing at a table, blowing
out her birthday candles. Ginny knew the picture had come from her dad before he died. She hadn’t
had a birthday cake since his death.
“What did you do to finally get him to agree to let us see each other again?” Ginny had asked,
enthralled by her sister’s story.
“Nothing. He had called Killyama and told her to drive me to the gas station near Treepoint, and
he sent a picture of the man who drove me to the church.”
“Did Hammer say what had changed his mind?”
“He wouldn’t be able to say that you were happy if I asked him again.”
“I always told him no, because I knew if I asked what I needed most, he wouldn’t give it to me.”
“What was that?”
“You. I needed you.”
Trudy had looked like she was going to give Hammer a beating when Ginny had told her that
fact.
Putting thoughts of Trudy aside, Ginny took a brief shower and started to get dressed, not
wanting to be late with the amount of food she needed to cook for breakfast. The Last Riders’ club
was packed with Shade’s sister Penni visiting. While she was staying with Shade and Lily at their
house, Penni spent most of the time going back and forth between there and the club. She’d come
with a man named Jackal, who was unlike the men who normally stayed or visited The Last Riders.
He wore a Predators jacket. The cold look in his eyes reminded her of Shade, and the scar that ran
down the length of his cheek gave him a daunting appearance. Ginny definitely wouldn’t pick a bar
fight with him at a bar, she thought, laughing to herself.
She hadn’t even realized that Penni had brought a third person to visit until Viper requested for
her to prepare a tray for their guest, who had been staying upstairs for the first few weeks that
Penni and Jackal had been there.
The mysterious guest wasn’t exactly cordial. Ginny hadn’t taken Hennessy’s behavior personally;
he was like a big tiger with a sore paw. From what little information she had overheard, Hennessy
was a president of his own club, and he was staying upstairs until his injuries healed.
Not only had some of The Last Riders been on the receiving end of his sharp comments, but she
had, as well. She had flinched when she’d gotten to close to him one day while cleaning the kitchen.
A sarcastic comment from the man had her escaping to the basement to avoid returning a snappish
comeback. Penni had mistakenly assumed Ginny was upset but had taken her side when Hennessey
thought she had flinched due to his color. Penni had defended her, saying it was due to his large size
and that she had seen her do the same thing when Knox stood too close to her.
Her reaction had nothing to do with his size or color, and everything to do with the simple fact
that he was a man. She wasn’t intimidated by men; whatever the ethnicity or size. She had been
running from true evil since she was three years old. How could you fear normal men, even the size
of the Loch Ness monster while you were still trying to outswim the Kraken? She would be able to
take the Loch Ness monster on and defeat it with the right weapon. The Kraken, on the other hand,
no ordinary person or weapon could destroy that monster.
No, she wasn’t afraid of either Knox or Hennessey. Ginny considered both men guppies in her
lake. The real reason she had flinched away from Hennessey was not something she was at liberty
to explain to anyone. Other than the men who had saved her life and those in her family, she
maintained a strict distance from any other.
From the moment in the church when she had seen the dark figure, it hadn’t felt right to stand
too close to any man. It was why she maintained a physical distance from all men, other than those
she had grown close to and considered family.
Ginny had started noticing that she couldn’t stand being close to a member of the opposite sex
soon after she had seen the dark figure at the front of the church. She couldn’t explain it, but if a
boy came within arm’s reach, she immediately moved away. She had rationalized her fear of men to
Allerton finding her. There were too many lives at stake if he ever did. Could it be that she harbored
a secret fear of becoming close to someone, afraid that Allerton would find her and kill them both?
When she noticed Penni watching her, Ginny could practically see the wheels turning in her
head, trying to figure her out. One morning Penni came in and caught her singing in the basement
while she was doing laundry. None of The Last Riders were ever up that early on a Sunday morning,
so she thought she was alone and had unconsciously started singing along with the music while
folding the clothes.
Penni startled her and, with her guard up, she cagily answered the questions Penni asked about
her past. She’d given her enough brief answers hoping to satisfy Penni’s curiosity. But Shade was
sharp, and Ginny knew not much got past him. The longer she was around his sister, she realized
both brother and sister had inherited the same shrewd intelligence.
Realizing she had taken too long blow-drying her hair, she pulled it into a ponytail, then hurried
downstairs and made sure the sleeping kitten had enough food and water. Ginny couldn’t help but
pick up the little fur baby that lifted her head to be stroked under her chin.
“Gotta go to work, Smokey. Be good while I’m gone,” she crooned, giving her a brief snuggle
before placing her back on the couch cushion.
Locking her front door behind her, she went to her car and gave her home a proud once-over
before driving off. The papers had been signed, and the house was now hers. She had scrimped and
saved for the last eight months and had to clean out her checking account to make the ten thousand
dollars down payment, but it had been worth every dime and every hour of work to achieve.
She was the master of her own destiny, and it felt flipping great!
Her burst of euphoria lasted until she the red light came on the dashboard. She had forgotten to
buy gas on her way home the day before. Making a detour to the gas station, she had just put the
nozzle in her tank when Lisa parked on the other side of the same pump. Getting out of her car, Lisa
just stood there and watched her pump the gas.
“You could move your car forward; the next pump is empty,” Ginny stated the obvious at Lisa’s
condescending posture.
“I’m in no hurry. It shouldn’t take long for you to pump five dollars’ worth.”
The cutting remark flew by her. Living the short time with Bliss, then working with Willa had
given her the boost of confidence she needed to face off with the woman she hated.
Instead of acting like a puppy with his head hanging down whenever Lisa was near, Ginny kept
on pumping just to make her angry.
“I’m filling my tank.”
“Good for you. I wasn’t aware Willa paid you enough to splurge. Or, are The Last Riders better
tippers than the customers at the diner?”
 Lisa’s rein over her was going to end today.
“Go to hell.”
Lisa lifted her hand with the diamond ring the size of the rock of Gibraltar to tuck her expensive
purse under her arm. “Trash.” Lisa scornfully raked her gaze over her. “The only thing that hasn’t
surprised me about you is that you don’t have a couple of brats trailing after you.”
“Really?” Ginny cocked her head to the side, studying the stuck-up bitch. “The only thing that
surprised me about you is that you let Carter Dawkins touch you. The principal didn’t shock me. You
smelled like his cologne when you picked me from choir practice. You should let the other men take
the picture; the ones that Dalt took doesn’t do you justice.”
“You bitch!” Lisa dropped her purse as she moved toward her.
“Be careful; there are security cameras everywhere. I’d hate to see your name dragged through
the mud for assault and battery.”
“You were the one who gave Tate the picture.”
“Was I?” Ginny asked in mock innocence.
“How did you break into my house?”
“I didn’t break into your house,” Ginny denied with a smile at seeing Lisa was ready to explode.
“I know you broke into my house,” Lisa hissed when another car pulled up to her car.
Ginny clicked the gas nozzle off, hanging it back on the pump, then screwing the cap over the
gas tank, and flipping the cover closed. “Prove it.”

“G inny, if you have a second, I’d like a word with you.”

Straightening the chairs back under the tables in the dining room, Ginny glanced over at
Viper, her heart sinking at the expression on his face. Had she done something wrong? Was God
going to pay her back for being a witch to Lisa? Was it worth lowering her standards to see Lisa get
back in her car and squeal out of the gas station? Pretty much. She hadn’t even minded spending
the extra ten dollars on gas that she hadn’t planned into her budget for the week.
Her mind went around and around over what Viper wanted to talk about. The whole eight
months she had worked at the club, he had said maybe twenty words to her.
The stark reality of losing her job when she just purchased her home and hadn’t had the time to
replenish her savings had her trembling as she walked over to the table. Viper was sitting with
Jackal, Train, Rider, and Hennessy as they ate their lunches.
“With so many guests here, we need someone full-time until they leave.”
He was firing her to hire someone full-time.
Rapidly, she thought over for her options. She could go back to the diner. She might be able to
talk to the manager of the theater to take her back. She had given notice—
“I talked to Willa. She’s willing to give you leave until you can go back to your normal work
schedule.”
“You’re not firing me?” Relieved, she breathed again.
“Fire you? No, I’m giving you a raise for the hours you’ll have to put in here. You can take the
bedroom in the basement—it has its own bathroom. We want you to be comfortable during your
stay.”
“I don’t need to stay here. I can work whatever hours you want and go home to sleep.”
“We need someone on call.”
“I just got a kitten. I can’t leave her alone at night.”
“You can bring her with you.”
Viper was shutting her down, countering her each time she made an excuse not to move in.
Deciding to be blunt, she made her point clear. “I don’t want to move in here. I have my own house.”
“It’s only for a couple of weeks.”
Train’s reassurance didn’t change her mind.
“No.”
Viper wasn’t willing to accept no for an answer. “I wasn’t giving you a choice. I’ll pay you for the
inconvenience,” he reminded her.
Ginny stiffened, shaking her head. “It’s not about the money. If you need me to work longer
hours, I’m okay with that, but I want to go home at night.”
She really didn’t want to lose her job with The Last Riders, and she really didn’t want to make
Willa upset enough to fire her—but she didn’t want to give in to Viper’s demands. Willa was her
friend, but Ginny never let herself forget that she was ultimately her boss and kept a respectful
distance between them as employee and employer.
“Ginny, let’s go talk in the front room.”
Ginny turned around to find Pastor Dean behind her. Seeing his understanding expression, she
calmed down and went to the front of the club. Grateful that the room was empty, she shoved her
hands into her jean pockets.
“I’m not going to leave my house. I can work whatever hours Viper wants me to.”
 “Ginny, when Willa and I discussed you taking the job here, we warned you that there would
occasionally be things we couldn’t discuss with you. This is one of those times.”
Ginny swallowed hard. She wasn’t blind. She noticed the extra men at the doors when she’d
come and gone from the club. She hadn’t missed the additional men wearing the Predators jackets
and all the changes that had come about since Penni and her friends’ arrival. The fact Hennessey
had been hurt so badly, being bedridden for a couple of weeks, didn’t take a rocket scientist to
figure out there were problems happening for the club and they thought she could be in danger.
She trusted Pastor Dean and could sympathize with him having to walk a fine line between being
her pastor and the other side of him—the one who belonged to the club. More than anyone knew,
she understood the dilemma he was in, since she walked a similar a fine line, which was why she
told Trudy to stop calling her Evangeline. She and her sister had given up too much for their past to
leak out now.
“I’m staying at my house. If Viper wants to fire me, I’ll understand.” She resolutely ended the
conversation, going back into the kitchen to load the dishwasher.
Whatever trouble the club was in, she wasn’t involved and she refused to get dragged into it. If
Hammer thought she was in a dangerous situation with The Last Riders, he would never let Trudy
have the overnight visits they had promised each other, and she didn’t want Trudy in danger. She
was just a housekeeper; if she started staying full-time, their enemies might assume she was closer
to them than just a worker. Viper wasn’t asking the factory workers to move in, so he shouldn’t
expect her to leave her home either.
Ginny continued to worry as she shoved a baking sheet into the dishwasher.
When Penni stormed into the kitchen to get a beer and a pitcher of tea to take outside, Ginny
slowed down abusing the bakeware. After seeing Penni stomp back out again, she looked out the
window and saw Fat Louise, Killyama, and Sex Piston having a picnic with Lily and their children.
Had she been deluding herself? Did Trudy just not have the heart to tell her the truth, that they’d
never be safe enough to even be roommates? What would it be like to be out there, laughing and
having a good time with them? Just once she wished she knew.
Her mouth dropped open when Penni dumped the pitcher of tea over Killyama’s head. A fight
erupted between the two women, sending the backyard into a turmoil that had the men running
outside to break them apart.
Maybe watching from the safety of the other side of the glass wasn’t all that bad.
 CHAPTER THIRTY

“G reer, are you hungry? I can make you something to eat once I put the groceries away,”
Ginny shouted over her shoulder, unlocking her door after going to the grocery store with
her bodyguard.
Ginny tried not to laugh at the fact of Greer Porter being her bodyguard.
Willa had cornered her when she had gotten off work the day she refused to move into the club.
She had managed to talk her into letting the Porters keep an eye on her when she wasn’t at work.
Ginny had been hesitant, but Willa convinced her, saying that it would make everyone happier,
including her, if they knew she was safe.
“Do they know it’s me that they’ll be watching?”
“Yes.” Willa gave her a strange look. “Why?”
“Because the Porters and the Colemans are feuding.”
“I thought it was the Porters and the Hayes that were feuding?”
“They are. They’re feuding with the Colemans, too.”
“Are the Colemans feuding with the Hayes?”
“No, just the Porters. The Hayes and the Colemans don’t like each other, but they aren’t
feuding.” Ginny started thinking about it. It had been a while since she had talked to any of her
brothers. They could be feuding with the Hayes since she had moved to town. “Or, at least not that I
know of. I’ll have to ask Jessie when I see her around town.”
“I’m sure the feud between the Colemans and the Porters is all in the past, or they wouldn’t have
taken the job.”
“Do you mind asking the Porters?” Ginny asked. “I really don’t want to make my brothers mad at
me.”
Willa laid a gentle hand on her arm. “You don’t want to ask your brothers yourself?”
Ginny lowered her lashes so Willa couldn’t see the hurt in her eyes. “They won’t talk to me.”
“I’ll have Lucky talk to both the Colemans and the Porters and negotiate a cease fire until this
situation is resolved.”
Ginny had been grateful for Willa’s intervention, and it had been Lucky who had told her that
both families had promised to put their differences aside until Viper felt there was no longer a need
for her to be protected.
It hadn’t been bad. The Porters kept their distance, unless she had to go out, then one of the
three brothers went with her. Greer was the one who’d gone with her to the grocery store, saying
he had a few things he could pick up. In fact, she struggled getting him out of the store.
“You handy at making biscuits?” he asked as they went into the store.
“Yes.”
“If I make the fixin’s, you think you can make them for me?”
“Certainly, I wouldn’t mind at all.”
“You any good at making sausage and gravy? Got to have something to go with them biscuits.”
“I’ll get sausage when we go down the meat aisle.”
It hadn’t been his last request. Every aisle they passed through, he added to the menu. Before
they finally finished, she had a full cart, and nearly forgot the ingredients she had volunteered to
pick up for Willa.
Carrying one bag of groceries inside, she called out for her kitty as Greer came in with an
armload of groceries.
“Ginny!”
Startled, Ginny turned at Greer’s shout, freezing when he dropped the groceries and started
running toward her. Flinging the groceries away from her, he grabbed her arm and started running,
trying to drag her out the door.
Frantically tugging herself away, she barely had time to snatch her kitten off the couch before
Greer clutched her arm again, this time forcing her out the door at a dead run.
“What …?” she gasped out as they ran across her lawn.
 “Gas leak!”
Shocked, Ginny turned to stare at Greer in disbelief when an explosion rocked her house,
sending both her and Greer to the ground.
“Smokey!”
Her terrified kitten had wiggled out from under and ran up the closest tree.
Screaming her kitten’s name again, she tried to get back up.
“Stay down!” Greer hissed, covering her with his body as another explosion had sparks landing
on the grass next to them.
Greer was lifting her up when the fire department and police cars came down the street with
their lights flashing and sirens sounding.
Leaving Greer to tell Knox what happened, Ginny went to the tree, trying to coax Smokey down.
“Come to, Mama,” she crooned hiccupping cries from her lips. “Here, kitty, kitty.”
The firefighters turning the water hoses on sent the kitten higher up into the tree. She was still
helplessly trying to talk her kitten down when another pop sounded from inside her house.
“Greer, get her a blanket and get her the fuck out of here!” Knox bellowed, picking her up to
move her farther away from the house.
“I can’t leave my kitten!” Ginny yelled, trying to throw herself out of his restraining hold.
“I’ll get one of the firefighters to get it down when we get the fire under control.” Knox handed
her off to Greer, who frog-marched her to a truck parked behind the fire truck.
Greer lifted Ginny onto the seat, then got in beside her. Tate, one of Greer’s brothers, sat
stoically behind the steering wheel as he pulled out to do a U-turn to drive out of her neighborhood.
Staring sightlessly out the window, she saw orange flames glowing in the rearview mirror. Her
neighbors were standing outside their homes, watching as everything she owned burned to the
ground.
Her fight gone, she scooted out of the truck when they arrived at the police station and took a
seat in the lobby as Tate and Greer took a seat next to her. All three sat there, listening as the
dispatcher talked back and forth to Knox.
She twisted the blanket around her when she heard Knox radio the dispatcher to send for a tow
truck to her address to pick up a burnt car.
“Let’s go sit in Knox’s office.” Greer started to rise.
Ginny shook her head.
“Maybe it’s not as bad as it sounds,” Tate said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
She stared ahead dully, looking out the plate glass window, watching as customers went in and
out of the diner. Their lives went on unaffected by what had turned hers upside down once again.
Greer reached up to put more of the blanket around her. “Your car insurance should pay—”
“It was a used car. I only had liability.”
Ginny appreciated Greer’s and Tate’s encouragements and staying with her. And they were still
with her when Knox, Viper, Shade, and Jackal came into the station, their faces grim masks.
Jackal looked like he had tangled with a mountain lion. His face was covered in grime, his T-shirt
fared better, and his pants were ripped practically to shreds.
Viper moved to stand in front of her. “Your house is gutted. The Last Riders will make this right.”
“What caused the explosion?”
“We won’t be able to tell for sure until it’s investigated,” he hedged.
“You believe it has something to do with me working for The Last Riders, or you wouldn’t have to
make it right.” She turned from staring out the window to squarely meet Viper’s eyes.
“The insurance I have will only cover the cost of the loan I took for the house. I haven’t lived
there long enough to build up any equity.” Ginny went back to staring out the window. “I won’t even
get enough to get back the deposit I put down on it.”
“I’ll make it right. You’ll get your deposit back, and I’ll personally buy any house you want.”
“No. Thank you, but no. If I get enough out of the insurance to pay the loan off, I’ll be okay. My
kitten is dead, isn’t she?” she asked, bracing herself for the answer that she knew was coming.
Jackal moved in front of her. “I climbed the tree to get it. When I was coming, she jumped out of
my hand and ran into the street. One of your neighbors accidently hit it when he was trying to move
his car from the driveway next to yours. I tried to save it.”
“I know you did. We heard the car almost hit you, too.”
She had nowhere to go. She had no idea what she was going to do. She had nothing left, except
the clothes on her back. She couldn’t call Hammer or Trudy; what if Viper was wrong and the
explosion had nothing to do with The Last Riders. It could have been the enemy she had been
running from since she was three years old, testing to see if Hammer or Trudy made contact.
“Viper, is your invitation for me to stay at the club still open?” She’d had to clear her husky voice
to get the words out.
“Yes.”
“Then, would you mind if we go? I’m tired.”
“Of course.”
When she rose, the men parted to let her go first, except for Shade. His enigmatic gaze caught
hers.
 “How did you know the cat was dead?”
“Because anything I love always gets destroyed.”

G inny stood staring at the shell of the home that she had been so proud of owning. Not only was
it in ashes, but so were all the dreams and hopes she deceived herself that she could make
come true. The truth was her dreams were never going to come true. If she stayed in Treepoint, she
would always be outside looking in.
The night her house was destroyed, Penni had offered her a job as a caterer for the band she
managed. Ginny waited until Penni was ready to leave before making up her mind to accept the
offer.
The Last Riders thought she was leaving because Raci—the woman responsible for giving out her
name and address—had offered her up to the cartel to strike at the club. Willa confessed to her that
Raci had done it to save her cousin and husband, who had been kidnapped by the same cartel that
killed Fat Louise’s father and sister. Willa hoped the information would keep her from leaving. It
didn’t.
Raci had picked the one person who she thought had the least repercussions. Ginny didn’t have a
husband or a lover who would miss her. Instead she had friends who would forget her, and jobs that
could be done by someone else. She was expendable. Even Trudy had four friends whom she
considered sisters. Truthfully, they were more like sisters to her than Ginny was. At least Trudy
wouldn’t have to worry about being blown to smithereens if she decided to stay the night at her
house. She would be taking her sister’s life in her hands, even if they pretended to only be friends
like Beth and Lily.
Losing Smokey had shown her that the farther distance between herself and others, the better. It
was what Hammer had been trying to tell them whenever she and Trudy wanted to get together.
The kitten would have been better off at the animal shelter than with her, just like Trudy would be
better off with her gone.
A strong gust of wind sent her hair swirling in disarray. Battling back against the wind, a dose of
cold, hard reality suddenly struck her. The cartel had actually done her a favor, proving she wasn’t
strong enough to take on Allerton yet. Especially not if she wanted to keep Trudy out of harm’s way.
For her to take Allerton on, she had to get to the point where nothing else mattered but taking
him down. To do that, she needed to strategize like a master chess player. Not only that, but she had
to become physically and mentally stronger. She needed to become a force to be reckoned with, and
to do that she needed to be alone. Only when she managed to defeat Allerton would she be able to
quit looking from the outside in, and she would finally be able to join the lives of those she loved.
“Are you ready?” Penni asked, waiting beside the car with a man who worked security for the
band. It was how Penni convinced Shade to let her leave.
“I’m ready.” Ginny reached down, picking up the black trash bag of the few things she managed
to salvage from the rubble.
As she walked toward the car, Penni got in the back seat while the guard took the bag from her
to put in the trunk.
Ginny put a hand on the roof of the car, bending down to dip her head in before getting inside.
Another strong gust of wind sent her hair whirling as if a Tasmanian devil was aggravating her. It
reminded her of when Silas would sneak up behind her and Leah to mess up their hair.
Unable to help herself, she laughed as she dived into the car to escape.
“See? I told you it would be good for you to stop and say good-bye,” Penni said when she heard
her laughter. At first, she thought Penni was crazy when she suggested stopping and saying good-
bye to the burnt-out shell of her former home. Ginny was glad she had; her head was much clearer.
Ginny ran her fingers through her fine hair to untangle it. “It’s not good-bye,” she said, buckling
her seat belt and staring straight ahead. “It’s just for now.”
 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- O N E

G avin stirred on the cot. The Navy man, who was still somewhere deep inside of him, who had
been hidden for so long, had him opening his eyes, trying to recognize the sound that used to
be a part of his past, trying to rationalize what it meant. The heroin they had just shot through his
veins placed images and sounds in his mind that he couldn’t unscramble enough to know what was
real and what was imagined.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood erect, while his hearing increased, just like it used to
back in the day, right before a mission, yet the drug lulled him back, telling him it was just another
figment of his imagination.
Closing his eyes, he figured the drugs must have been a new concoction of Butcher’s. Not only
the part of him that had once been a Navy SEAL, but every visage of being worthy of being a Last
Rider was gone. What was left was just a ghost of the man he used to be.
Hearing the sound again, it didn’t inspire him to fight through the poison that was killing him day
by day, too beaten down to give a damn anymore. Being saved was something Gavin no longer
wished for. Hell, the only thing he prayed for now was to not be saved. Through all his unanswered
prayers, his one last hope was that this single fucking prayer would be granted. He no longer looked
to God to answer his prayers, or even The Last Riders. No, it was Slate who he begged to send him
to Hell—to grant him the death that, no matter what Butcher pumped into his body, remained just
out of reach. That was the downfall about being the Reaper—you were already fucking dead.
So, when he heard the deathly quiet footsteps of multiple men come down those dreaded wooden
steps, he didn’t want to believe it. Not even when a heavily tatted man, who he used to call a
brother, appeared in his glazed vision.
Ten years of his life had been spent in this six-by-ten basement. Ten years he would never get
back. And, even if he did get out it, he would no longer have a life worth living, not after what he
endured. That was why he had stopped trying to run. Seeing the sightless eyes of the woman he had
killed had effectively shackled him to the basement, as if wearing leg irons too strong to escape.
An inked hand filled his distorted vision. He prayed it was another hallucination from the heroin
coursing through his veins, like he would see with Taylor. He was convinced this new vision was just
another head trip. But, unlike the ones he was used to, the inked hand didn’t fade away; it felt as if
he was being touched for the first time in years by someone who actually cared. It was the moment
he knew he should have prayed harder, terrified the face bending over him wasn’t a mirage and the
soulless eyes were ones he recognized.
Shade was a man incapable of failing a mission. He was the first person who he prayed to see
come through the door when he had first been locked in this hell … but now he was the last.
Gavin had seen that look of determination on his face too many missions to count. Reaper was
getting out of here—and he was fucking getting out alive.
Shade would see to that.
The world deserved Gavin James, not Reaper. Releasing Reaper would release a wrath unlike this
earth had ever seen. It would be a Hellfire scorching every inch, until all the beautiful and ugly
things died, burning to the ground until only one thing remained—ash.
Fighting to keep himself there, to keep Reaper where he belonged, was all he knew to do when
Shade and now Train fought to get him up. His brothers had good intentions, but they didn’t see
that Gavin wasn’t the one they were saving. They were too late; Gavin was gone.
They were releasing the very thing that The Last Riders had spent their lives protecting everyone
from.
He struggled against the fake Shade and Train, created in a drug-induced mind, a state of
consciousness that could no longer distinguish the difference between reality and fantasy, like a
gamer lost in a virtual reality. There was only one reality his mind could accept. Having his hopes
crushed so many times, the very thing he wanted became another enemy just out of reach.
Gavin fought against the captor who wore a mask that looked like Shade’s face; he vaguely
remembered how he used to fear him from time to time, but now the Reaper was being unleashed,
they were matched.
“Move away, Train, Shade. Let Killyama take him.”
He heard the command from a man he hadn’t even known was there. Instantly the figures of the
men he knew released him. Falling back down onto his cot, the drugs weighed him down like a ton
of bricks.
“Come with me, Gavin. I have something to make you feel better.”
His crazed eyes moved from the soulless ones to see the silhouette of a woman reaching through
the haze. Thinking Taylor was there once more, he waited for her to disappear again when her hand
touched his arm and lifted him. The face near his wasn’t Taylor’s, but he didn’t fight her like he had
the others. He couldn’t have another woman’s death on his conscience.
The woman helped lift him to stand, taking most of his minimal weight. “That’s right. Just a few
more,” she coaxed as they treaded up the steps ever so slowly.
One step in front of the other, they followed behind the images of Shade and Train, into the
bedroom that had been his torture chamber. He wanted to beg them not to make him play anymore
games, but he knew they wouldn’t listen to his pleas; they always fell on deaf ears.
The haze continued through the hallway until he heard gunshots firing. He was shoved against a
wall, and the woman whom he clung to fired back. Unable to hold himself up, he slipped down,
comprehension finally dawning on him that these people were protecting him.
The relentless woman picked him back up, yet he had been dragged outside too many times for
their cruel amusement to allow the fragile spark in his chest any room to grow.
When the door to freedom was opened, he squinted his eyes and turned his face away from the
bright light. For a second, he thought he was granted the death he’d craved … until he realized a
man like him wouldn’t be granted access into Heaven.
Holding onto her was like holding onto Taylor. She was his sole reason for walking into the sun
for the first time in four years—the last time he’d attempted escape—and the only reason he didn’t
will himself to take the gun from her hand and pull the trigger.
I’m coming home, Taylor.
At the thought, he started falling to the ground, and again, the woman lifted him up to force him
to run at her side. Nearly useless, Gavin was half-lifted and half-shoved inside a vehicle, then he felt
her body dive on top of him as the door slammed and a hail of bullets pinged against the SUV.
“Phase four, complete! Hostage is secured. Fall out, now! Go, go!”
The driver gunned the vehicle as the bullets continued to hit. He felt the floorboards bounce at
the speed they were traveling. Just as the woman lifted off him, she jerked back down when a bullet
hit the back of the vehicle.
“Son of a bitch hit my car.”
Gavin heard a curse from the front seat.
“Take that southpaw out, or I will.”
He heard the voice coming from the front seat when he’d first been shoved into the vehicle. A
faint memory teased him, then faded when he felt the vehicle swerve again.
“Stay down!” another male yelled from the front, but Gavin felt the woman rising slightly despite
the order.
He was getting nauseous at the way the vehicle was being driven, his empty stomach rolling at
each screech of the brakes or dip on the road.
“I hope the one that will be spitting glass out of his mouth in the ER was the southpaw,” someone
muttered.
When the SUV turned another corner, Gavin screamed, his fevered imagination thinking a bomb
had gone off. The woman holding him crooned softly, talking to him. When she reached up to take
her mask off, he realized it wasn’t a mask but goggles and a headset.
“We have you, Gavin. You’re safe now.” Pushing his greasy hair back, she stared down at him, her
face silhouetted in the dark. “You know, you’re better-looking than your brother Viper. I bet the
women fought over you. Viper’s married and now has a baby girl, but he’s missed you every day. All
of The Last Riders have. You just need to hang on a little longer until we can get you to a place
where you’ll be safe. Can you do that for me?”
“Who … Who are you?” he was finally able to get his thoughts organized enough to ask.
“I’m Rae.”
“Take me back to my room. If they catch me, they’ll hurt you,” Gavin warned her. He didn’t have
enough strength to save them if they were caught.
“Sweetness, no one is stupid enough to mess with me. You’ll never go back to that room again—
Viper will see to that. When he gets finished with the Road Demons, their club won’t be standing.”
Gavin felt her reach for something. Then he felt something damp wiping at the dirt and grime
that must have been on his face. “That feel better?”
He couldn’t remember the last time they’d let him take a shower. The little water he’d been
allowed had to last until they were ready to refill it.
The sickening churning in his stomach was becoming worse, as was the pounding in his head. He
just wanted to sleep—and that way if he went to sleep and didn’t wake up, he’d die freed from that
stinking basement.
 “Gavin! Listen to me! Don’t you quit now. I’m still here. I’m not going to leave you, so you better
not leave me!”
“W-Why? No one else came for me. No one.”
It wasn’t going to take them long to regret they found him. He had killed Memphis and Crash a
million times in his mind. It was only going to take him once when he was able-bodied. He’d exact
his plan of revenge.
“No one knew. They thought you were dead. They all did. Viper and Ton still don’t know you’re
alive. They wouldn’t have left you there if they had known. Not one day, not for one second.
Sweetness, you weren’t left behind or forgotten.”
“Viper was mad at me. He … They all left me to die. Crash told me it was Viper’s punishment.”
Crash enjoyed talking to him from the top of the steps. The fucker knew Gavin’s mind. If he’d come
any closer to him down the stairs, it would have been worth the bullet Slate would’ve put in him,
just to kill Crash.
“Crash lied. Viper would have killed everyone in there if he had known. There isn’t a man in the
club who wouldn’t lay down his life for you.”
Gavin felt her rest her head against his shoulder, the wetness of her tears on him.
“Did you see Train and Shade? I should have taken a box of Kleenex inside with me; they were
crying so hard.”
“They weren’t there—”
He hadn’t seen them, had he? He would have known if they would have been in there. It was Ink
and Chain who were there, wearing masks, trying to make him believe that they were Last Riders.
Had it really been them?
“Yes, they were. They were the ones crying in the corner.”
Gavin felt her move but couldn’t tell what she was doing.
“I was the only one not crying,” she bragged.
He didn’t believe her. “You’re crying now.”
“That’s because you stink.”
He tried to wiggle away from under her. With the haze of the heroin dissipating, he became
aware of how awful he must smell, and that he was naked underneath her. Cringing that the woman
had to be exposed to his filth had him trying to move away from her.
“Don’t move; you’re my Kleenex.”
“I’m sorry. They wouldn’t let me shower unless—”
She cut him off by covering his mouth with her hand. “You smell like a survivor, Gavin. Take a
deep breath. You’re free. You’re free.”
Hearing the words over and over had him finally realizing that it wasn’t a hallucination.
Hallucinations didn’t cry, did they?
Hearing her crying sent a chain reaction inside him that made him unable to hold back the sobs
of relief coming from his chest. He wasn’t proud he had survived Slate’s cruelty; he was returning
to the world defeated, and all The Last Riders would see it.
“I … gave up.”
“You didn’t give up. You survived. You did what any good soldier would do. You did what you had
to do to live. Don’t you dare talk about stinking or giving up, or I’ll kick your ass when we get out of
this car!”
“Killyama!”
Gavin jumped at the loud yell from the front.
“What?” she yelled back.
“You can get up.”
“Okay.”
Taking the headset off, the woman levered off him and climbed onto the seat, then reached down
to help him sit next to her. The change in positions had him heaving.
“Here, I have a barf bag. Hammer’s driving makes me puke, too.”
Taking the bag, he opened it and breathed in and out slowly, desperately holding back the bile
that was rising in his throat. Gavin raised his head from the bag when he felt a rush of air as she
lowered the window.
“I thought I didn’t stink,” he remarked when he saw what she was doing.
“I did that to give you some fresh air.”
Laying his head back, he turned to stare at her. “You’re lying.”
“A little.”
Gavin looked down when she took his hand in the dark. The movement, however small, depleted
the last of his strength. He didn’t even fight the unconsciousness, letting it wrap him in its dark
warmth, not caring if he ever emerged again.
A window lowering in the front sent another rush of air to revive him. Foggily, his brain skated
the edge of consciousness enough to hear.
“Good to see you, Reaper.”
His head on the woman’s shoulder, the name of the person’s voice flashed through his mind, then
was gone.
 “Reaper?”
Gavin was used to hearing those familiar voices in his other life and knew who they belonged to.
The SEALs who had come down after he heard the basement door open hadn’t been a delusion. It
finally clicked. Hammer and Jonas were in the vehicle with him. The men he had gone on missions
with had to be there as well.
The part of his brain that held on for dear life, because he knew if he completely gave in to the
comforting darkness, he would emerge back in that hell hole, giving up completely. He didn’t know
where Shade was now, but he had been there. The woman said Train was also there. And, if
Hammer and Jonas were there, Hell was going to have to wait. Those four soldiers wouldn’t only
take a bullet for you, they would spit in the eye of the Devil before they would let him take your
soul.
Gavin was lifted out in a tight grip; his arm was placed over one muscular shoulder, then his
other was placed on another as supportive hands went around his waist. Both men took his weight.
Lifting his eyelids to make certain it wasn’t his captors, he saw Train’s and Shade’s grim faces
staring back at him.
“Don’t let them take me back …,” he begged, barely able to get the words out and ashamed of
the sobs that he couldn’t hold back.
Shade tightened his hand on the arm wrapped around his shoulder. “Brother, the only fucking
way you’ll ever go back there is when we go there to burn the motherfucker down. You hear me,
Reaper? That’s the only fucking way. I swear on my fucking life, that’s the only way you’ll ever
fucking go there again.”
“Am I really going home?” He switched his gaze to Train, still not believing Shade’s words
weren’t a figment of his imagination.
“Yes, brother. You’re really going home.”
 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- T W O

F aces and voices floated around him as he slipped in and out of the fantasy of being rescued.
Had he imagined being in a SUV with a woman, Hammer, and Jonas?
“Gavin … Baby brother.”
A ragged voice in a sea of other voices had him forcing his lids to open, trying to struggle away
from arms trying to hold him.
“Just kill me. I’d rather be dead than go back there,” he begged the person staring down at him.
“He doesn’t recognize us.” Another face filtered into his sight and fear spiked that he didn’t have
enough strength to get away from two of them. He was so tired. His useless body was unable to get
up and run, despite his mind screaming at him that he had to get away.
“Gavin … don’t.”
He tried to move again despite the pleading voice trying to get his attention.
“It’s me, Loker.”
“Loker, I’m sorry,” he sobbed out to the hallucination, feeling arms tighten around him.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t know ….”
Gain tried to find a focal point so his brain would stop swimming and right the faces to bring
them into focus.
“Gavin ….”
Reaper instinctively turned his head to the other side, recognizing the joy-filled voice of his
father.
“Gavin!”
“Dad?” Turning farther in the direction of the blurry image of his father, he wanted to burrow
into him like when he had been little and his dad had come home on leave, hoping that if he held on
strongly enough, he couldn’t leave. He’d always had, though, despite how hard he tried. Reaper
couldn’t make his arms work enough to grab onto his father.
Lowering his voice so no one else could hear, he begged his father, “Don’t let them hurt me.”
A sob tore from his father as he pulled his son into his arms. The sob terrified Reaper. His father
never cried. It was just another one of Slate’s tricks.
“Don’t let them take me back!” he cried out.
Why wouldn’t anyone help him? They kept calling him Gavin, but he didn’t want to be Gavin
anymore. They hurt Gavin. Reaper couldn’t be hurt. They were just trying to trick him again ….
No one cared ….
Reaper couldn’t be hurt ….
The pain of being lifted had him waking again, whatever he was lying on being moved as faces
passed him. He didn’t know where he was, but it wasn’t the basement. One face that was different
than the others had him reaching out to her. He remembered her carrying him out, protecting him
….
“Any woman who lets me sleep on her shoulder, smelling like I do, deserves a dozen roses.”
“It wasn’t so bad once I got the window down.”
“Do me a favor?” He waited until she nodded. “There’s a girl—Ton has her name. Call her for me.
Tell her I’m ….” He started shaking. “Tell her where I am, and that I need her.”
Exhausted at getting the words out, he couldn’t understand what she said but felt the hand that
covered his before he was once again moving.
I can’t give in to the pain, he thought feverishly.
When he woke up, Taylor would be there … She would be there ….

H e clenched his hands on the cool covering over his body, afraid to open his eyes. The thought
that his rescue was fake had him frozen, too petrified to move in case Slate or Ink was there
when he opened his eyes.
Flickering memories crossed behind his closed eyelids of Viper being with him in a room. He
wasn’t sure it had happened or if it had just been one more delusion the drugs planted in his mind.
Ton being there and crying had just added to the confusion of the memory. He had never seen his
father cry.
Replaying the hazy memory helped him to remain still, occupying his mind and helping him
ignore the itchy skin that had him wanting to rake his nails over the flesh … over and over again
until none of the irritating skin was left.
When he felt the covers being lifted away, he grabbed it back, then grabbed the hand that
pressed down on his shoulder.
“Don’t touch me,” he moaned in fear.
“I need to give you a bath.”
At one time, the feminine voice would have assured him that he was in caring hands, but not
anymore. It only raised his protective instincts higher.
Some women weren’t the nurturing creatures that they pretended to be. Some hid their evil
intentions behind smiling lips, pretending to be kind, when they were just as evil as their male
counterparts. He trusted no one any longer, male or female.
“It’s okay, Gavin. The nurse just wants to wash you. I’m right here.”
He lifted his lids to see Viper standing beside his hospital bed and a middle-aged woman in
scrubs with a wash towel giving him an encouraging smile.
“I can wash myself.” Gripping the stark white sheet against his chest, he prepared himself to
jump from the bed if she tried to touch him again.
“Mr. James, it won’t take long.” The professional way she spoke didn’t ease the heightened
tension in his body. He didn’t want to be touched, not by anyone.
“I can do it,” Viper offered, reaching out to take the wash towel from the nurse. “I’ll ring you
when we’re done.”
Reaper saw the budding argument in her face. Then she gave the cloth to Viper at the ominous
look he gave her back. “I’ll notify the doctor that he’s awake.”
Reaper settled back against the bed when she left. “You always could scare the shit out of
everyone with that look.”
“It never scared you,” Viper said, dunking the cloth in the pale pink, oblong pan of water.
“Oh, it did. I just tried not to let you see it.”
His brother twisted the cloth, letting the excess water fall back down into the pan. When Viper
took a step toward the bed, Reaper shook his head at him. “Is there a shower in the room?”
Viper tilted his head to the side. “You’re hooked up to an IV. I’m afraid you’re going to have to
settle with my help.”
“Give me the washcloth. I can do it myself.” He moved his fingers to the buttons that were
clearly marked on the bed to raise the head.
Viper gave him the cloth. “You want me to untie the gown for you?”
Reaching up, he fumbled behind his neck, untying it himself. Slowly reaching out, Viper
unsnapped the closures on his arms, helping him remove the gown.
Reaper stiffened when Viper’s eyes went to his body. He didn’t miss the ragged emotion
displayed on his face before Viper turned away to put the gown into a bin against the wall. When he
turned back around, however, his expression was back under his control as he returned to the side
of the bed to watch.
“I can do this,” Reaper muttered, becoming uncomfortable under Viper’s stare.
“I didn’t think you couldn’t.” Viper took a seat on the chair but didn’t move his eyes away from
him.
Reaper put the cloth to his face, breathing the clean scent of soap. He wanted to groan at the
pleasure.
“How are you feeling today?”
Dunking the cloth back into the water then wringing it out, he washed his face again. “Like shit.
How are you doing today?” he tersely shot back, on edge at the haggard expression on his brother’s
face. It wasn’t hard to interpret the torment in his eyes or the cause. Viper was blaming himself.
Viper’s lips curled up in a weary smile. “Been better.”
“How long have I been here?”
“You’ve been in and out of it for five days.”
Reaper pulled the cloth away from his face, noticing the differences in Viper. Age had been both
kind and hard on him. He had always been a tough motherfucker, but time had hardened his
features, removing any softness of youth. Unyielding strength showed in his uncompromising jaw,
and even while tired power exuded from Viper, making Reaper feel like a pale shadow in
comparison.
“I’ve been here for five days?”
“Almost six.”
“How long have you been here?” he asked as he washed his arms and chest.
“The whole time. Ton is here, too. He went to get us some coffee.”
 Reaper rewet the cloth before he started washing his legs. “Did I dream you said you were
married?”
“Her name is Winter. We have a daughter, Aisha.”
Slinging the cloth into the pan, he leaned back onto the bed, exhausted. “Does your wife know I
was stupid enough to get myself kidnapped?”
Viper clenched his jaw at his words. “Nothing about what happened to you was your fault.”
Giving a curt laugh, Reaper shook his head at his brother. “Every bit of what I went through was
all my fucking fault, and you know it.”
When he saw Viper was about to say something, Reaper grabbed the cloth again to wring it out,
his sluggish muscles quivering at the motion. “You mind?”
Viper got to his feet, going to the window to look out it and giving his back to Reaper so that he
could wash his dick without being forced to do so under Viper’s scrutiny.
“How long did it take Taylor to figure out I was missing?”
“I knew you were missing the next day. Lucky had decided to join you for the ride back to Ohio.
When you didn’t show up at the gas station, he called Taylor. She said she was expecting you and
would call him when you arrived at her place. When you weren’t there by six, we knew something
was wrong. Lucky had decided not to continue on to Ohio without you and sent Will to check on you
at Mrs. Langley’s house. All your things were gone, even your car and motorcycle. It was like you
had disappeared from the earth.
“Crash looked into your accounts; he saw you paid for a meal the day before in Treepoint. He
also told us the money to pay for the machinery that was to be purchased on Monday was missing.
When Will checked into it, Vincent Bedford told him that you had closed the account the day before
without any explanation.”
“I didn’t steal the money.”
Viper jerked around. “I knew you hadn’t stolen the fucking money. It took a while, but we finally
figured out who was responsible when Bedford tried to kill Beth. She’s the woman Bedford hired to
take care of Mrs. Langley. Beth found the paperwork that Bedford had hidden in the attic; it showed
he was the one who stole the money from your account. He and his daughter, Sam, tried to kill Beth;
Samantha finally admitted what happened to you to stay out of prison. If Beth hadn’t decided to look
through the papers before destroying them, we would all be dead. Memphis was about to blow the
clubhouse and kill us all.”
“He had it figured out.” Reaching for the clean gown on the hospital table, he accepted Viper’s
help to fasten the snaps on the arms.
Taking the sheet off the bed, Viper disposed of it in the bin before taking a clean one from the
table and spreading it over him.
Turning his gaze away from Viper, Reaper stared at the blank wall. “Why did it take you so long
to find me?”
Viper walked around the bed and into his field of vision. “We thought you were dead. Sam told us
that you were and so did Memphis. Shit, he even told us where you were buried, and we found a
body there.”
“How did you find me?”
“Hammer and Jonas are bounty hunters now. One of their bounties had a computer they hacked.
They found a video of you on the hard drive that led them to Crash. Hammer, Jonas, and Killyama
organized your rescue.”
Hammer and Jonas had seen the tapes. Reaper wanted to throw the pan of soapy water against
the wall.
“Killyama?”
“The woman you want me to give the roses to.”
“She told me her name was Rae.”
“Killyama is her nickname.”
Reaper didn’t laugh at the nickname. The woman had saved his life by not hesitating to use her
gun to protect him. He had asked Viper to give her the roses because, once they had ditched the
Road Demons who had tried to prevent his escape, he had passed out on her shoulder. As bad as he
had smelled, any other woman would have had her head hanging out of the window, gagging.
“Have you given them to her yet?” he forced the question out, despite the shame he felt knowing
she had seen the video.
“Not yet. I’ve been here with you, but I will.”
“How did I end up at the place they took me to after they saved me?”
“Killyama belongs to the Destructors’ MC. It wasn’t a sanctioned rescue for Hammer’s team, so
they didn’t want to take the chance that the Road Demons would find out and move you or kill you
before they could extract you, and they didn’t tell us because they didn’t want to alert Crash for the
same reason.”
Each time Viper opened his mouth, it added another set of eyes that had viewed his humiliation.
He didn’t want to know which tape they had watched. Any of the videos that Slate had made of him
would be sick and repulsive to anyone who didn’t want to feed their own twisted needs. The videos
catered to the maggots of society, those who searched for others to enjoy sharing a feast of their
victims. Those victims had no more importance to them than flies swarming decaying roadside kills
as they passed by in their expensive cars, knowing someone else would come by and pick up the
remains.
Swallowing back his mortification, he gritted his teeth to ask the next question. “Did any of The
Last Riders see the tapes?”
“Shade and Train did before your rescue. I did when I found out you were alive.”
He wished Viper had lied. Feeling a gulf form between them as the torment in his brother’s eyes
increased, showing the depths of his pain at what he gone through and hadn’t been there to protect
Gavin—as Loker had done when they were growing up—forced Reaper to look away. He just
couldn’t deal with Viper’s pain when he couldn’t handle his own.
“Where’s Memphis?” he asked, turning his head back to his brother.
“Dead.”
That hurt. He had imagined the man dead a million different ways, all by his own hand.
“Bedford?”
“He died six months ago from a heart attack while in prison.”
What heart? Reaper asked himself. The bastard hadn’t had one.
“Crash?”
“On ice. We’re waiting for you to dole out his punishment.”
Having Crash left for him didn’t even the scoreboard since he couldn’t take out the other two
men.
Hatred burned like bile in his throat at being unable to watch the life drain out of their bodies
with the same enjoyment they’d had watching his torture. The burst of intense emotion had him
breaking out in a cold sweat.
Raising a shaky hand to sweep his long hair back away from his face, he said, “It’s too hot in
here. Turn the air conditioner down.”
Reaper shifted uncomfortably on the bed under Viper’s perusal as he moved to adjust the
thermostat.
“Where’s Taylor? Is she with Ton?”
“I haven’t called her yet,” Viper said, slowly dropping his hand away from the thermostat.
“Why not? I want to see her.” Brushing a drop of sweat away that was coursing down the side of
his forehead, his eyes started darting around the room. He needed to get out of there, out of Viper’s
sight before he started begging him for the drugs that would stop his body from feeling as if it were
a quivering mass of Jell-O.
Ton coming in the door dragged his gaze from Viper. Reaper saw the coffee cups shake in his
hands upon seeing him. His father set the coffee down, then leaned over the bed rails to hug him.
“Son, you don’t know how good it is to see you awake!”
He could only bear to be hugged for a second before he had to pull away from his father’s hold,
feeling the same chasm with Ton as he was experiencing with Viper. The emotional connection
shared between them had been with a man he no longer was, the man returned to them a stinking
animal.
Running a hand along his arm, he started shivering.
“Be careful; you’re going to dislodge your IV,” Viper warned.
“Has the doctor been in yet?” Ton asked worriedly.
“No.” Viper moved around the bed to still Reaper’s movements.
Reaper froze. “I’ll stop.”
Not wanting to be with them anymore, with them looking at him like he was a two-year-old
requiring constant supervision, he needed Taylor to bridge the yawning gap that was becoming
deeper by the minute.
“Where’s Taylor?” He gripped the bed rail to keep himself still when all he wanted to do was jerk
the IV out of his arm and run to find the relief that would still the craving that was bombarding
every inch of his body.
He wasn’t so out of it that he missed the shared look of the men at his bedside.
“I haven’t contacted her because I wanted to wait to see what you wanted me to do …,” Viper
began.
“What’s,” he shouted, then glanced at Viper and fearfully lowered his voice, “not to understand?
I want to see her.” The memory of Crash telling him that Viper was glad he was out of The Last
Riders’ hair had him petrified that they would hand him back over to Slate.
Viper’s face paled as he took a step closer to the bed, bringing his hand to the nape of Reaper’s
neck to pull him closer to the side of the bed. “There is nothing to be afraid of anymore, not of Slate,
Crash, or anyone they used against you to make your life a living hell. You’re safe. No one can get
close to you even if they tried, and they’re smart enough not to try.”
Reaper began to shake in panic. “Crash said—”
“I don’t give a fuck what he told you,” Viper said harshly, his face a tortured mask. “We never
turned our backs on you. We knew you were only blowing off steam when you gave back your cut.
We were hurt but never angry with you.”
Viper bent down to press his forehead against his, meeting his eyes head-on and gripping the
back of his neck tighter. “I love you, baby brother. And even if you stuck a knife in my chest to rip
out my heart, I’d still love you. Don’t you ever fucking doubt that.”
Reaper closed his eyes tightly and nodded.
“Good.” Viper released his neck to run a hand over the top of his head. “The reason I didn’t call
Taylor is because she’s married.”
Reaper felt as if he had been dragged under an eight-foot tidal wave.
“She’s married?” He looked at his father, silently begging him to tell him it wasn’t true.
“I’m sorry, son.” Ton swiped his hand over his eyes.
Reaper began to laugh hysterically. “She’s married! I’m surprised Crash didn’t tell me. That must
have made his fucking year.”
“I’ll get the nurse,” he heard Ton say from what felt like a million miles away.
“The only thing that kept me alive was thinking about her, wanting to hold her again.”
“No, it wasn’t. You stayed alive in the military during missions that no one else walked away
from, because you wouldn’t give up. It was that same determination that’s kept you alive all these
years, not Taylor.”
“I can’t go through this without her.”
“Listen to me.” Viper placed a hand on his arm when Reaper started to jerkily lower the bed rail.
“I’ll call Taylor and talk to her. If she wants to come, I’ll get her here as soon as possible. I just
wanted to wait to see what you wanted me to do.
“I learned a hard lesson about how much you cared about her. I just didn’t want to repeat the
same mistake by interfering in your relationship with her again. I couldn’t handle losing you again.”
Reaper had always known that Viper loved him, but standing beside him, trying to calm him
down, his brother’s guard was lowered and the confident, assured president of The Last Riders
exposed the depths of the remorse he had been living with the years they had been apart.
Reaper closed his eyes tightly, hating himself for being the single misshapen link in Viper’s
armor. As president of The Last Riders, he held numerous men’s lives in the palm of his hands.
Being a husband and a father held the same responsibilities.
For the first time in their lives, Reaper felt a surge of protection go through him, like a lightning
bolt hitting a transformer. Lying back on the bed, he stopped trying to get up and stared at the
ceiling, giving Viper the opportunity to regain his composure.
“Call Taylor.”
Viper was taking out his phone when Ton and a man wearing a white coat came into the room.
Tuning out what the doctor was saying to him, he watched Viper go out the door and waited for him
to come back. He nodded his head as if was paying attention to what was being said.
“When your condition improves, your brother has managed to get you admitted into a treatment
facility to wean you off the drugs your body has become dependent on. There’s usually a six- to
seven-month waiting list, but whatever strings he pulled, it worked. If your vitals stay stable for the
next week and we manage to get you to eat on your own, then we’ll be able to get you out of this
hospital bed.”
He impatiently waited for Viper to come back inside the room, wanting the doctor to finish
talking. He and Taylor would figure out where he was going next when he was released. He wanted
to be where she was, close by so that she would be able to see him anytime she could.
After the doctor left, he expected Viper to come inside and finish the conversation with Taylor.
He was about to send Ton out for him when his brother came back, his phone no longer in his hand.
From his bleak expression, the hope that Taylor would ask to speak with him was another hurt that
shattered yet another image of how it would be when he was freed.
“What did she say?”
“She can’t come right now. Taylor needs time before she talks to you. She’s afraid that it will be
too upsetting for her until she is able to process that you’re alive. Taylor’s expecting, and she’s
concerned that it might be too much for her and the baby.”
“She’s pregnant?”
“Yes.”
The woman he loved was having another man’s child. In all the time that he had been held
captive, not once had he allowed himself to think that she wouldn’t be waiting for him with open
arms. Now, not only was she not waiting for him, she had been in another man’s arms.
“She’ll come and see me, and when she does, we’ll be together again.”
Neither Viper nor Ton tried to convince him that she wouldn’t, changing the subject to talk over
what had been discussed when Viper was calling Taylor.
“You’ll be given a room with a private patio,” Ton told him. “Viper’s made arrangements so that
one of us will be able to stay with you so you won’t be alone. It’s against the rules, but the director
is going to make an exception for us.”
“I think it would be better if I do this alone.”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” Ton flushed a ruddy hue. “Did Viper tell you that I
was dating? Is that why you don’t want me around?”
“Ton.” Viper gave their father a sharp glance.
Reaper looked at Ton and Viper suspiciously. “He didn’t tell me. Who are you seeing?”
 “Winter’s aunt, Mrs. Langley.”
“Vincent Bedford’s mother-in-law?”
“Yes. Shay is nothing like her son-in-law.”
Reaper bore no hatred for Mrs. Langley. She had been kind to him during his stay with her. He
remembered Slate’s warning to Vincent that if she woke, he would kill her. Thankfully, the sweet-
natured woman hadn’t been another casualty of Slate’s; he was happy his father found someone to
love.
“No, she isn’t.” His gut clenched as another withdrawal hit him. He needed the blissful rush of
drugs pumping into his bloodstream. He clutched the sheet with sweaty hands and twisted away
when Viper reached out to touch him. He could no longer hide the agony of need, driving him to
drop the façade he had been showing them.
“Call the nurse,” Reaper managed to get out.
Viper jumped to press the Call button. Reaper let him answer the nurse over the intercom before
he grabbed Viper’s wrist.
“I want you and Ton to leave.”
“We’re not leaving.”
“I can’t do this with you and Dad here,” he begged. “Please, Viper. I’m safe, and I’ll get through
the withdrawals, but I can’t do it with both of you watching every move I make. The two of you
being here is making it worse. Please … this is the only shred of dignity I have left. Don’t take it
from me. Just go.” With the last of his strength, he managed the last of his plea before the nurse
arrived to administer a sedative to push him back into the unconsciousness that took away the pain.
He watched with a mix of agony and relief as Viper and Ton left him alone to combat the demons
that weren’t ready to release their hold on a body they’d owned for so long, determined to drive him
back to the pit of Hell that Slate ruled.
Viper and Ton would never be able to understand the lure of returning to that hell, because they
were too strong. They had significant others, people who cared if they went to sleep and didn’t
wake up the next day. He didn’t have that anymore.
Viper, his father, The Last Riders, and Taylor were his reasons for breathing, despite it being
easier to give up and find solace in death. He no longer had that and felt as if there was a deep
divide between him, Viper, and Ton. The friendships he had with The Last Riders were built around
a man he no longer was—and would never be again.
Ultimately, the strongest motivation for his survival had been Taylor. During his darkest
moments, he’d clung to their future. He wouldn’t give up on that future, not when they still had a
chance now that he was free. She would want to see him once the shock wore off. They would look
at each other and everything would be okay again. He would promise to never leave her again, and
she would leave her husband.
Everything was going to be all right ….
It had to be all right….
 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- T H R E E

I t was shit. A five-year-old could take him out. He couldn’t even walk the short distance to the
bathroom without breaking into a cold sweat. When an aide brought him a tray of food, he’d
been excited, until he saw the plate. The soft foods were unappetizing and made the sandwiches
that Ink gave him look like gourmet meals. It had been years since he’d had a hamburger and fries.
His irritation vanished when he spent the next hour puking up the broth and Jell-O. Not only did
he have the body of an eighty-year old man, it seemed he had the stomach of one too.
The week dragged into two before he could keep down small amounts of food and was stabilized
enough to be moved into the treatment center.
Viper and Ton spent the four-hour ride to the facility trying to convince him into letting one of
them stay. Remaining quiet, he stared out the window, letting his silence speak for him.
Looking out the side mirror, he watched the four rows of Last Riders follow the car. Seeing the
brothers sitting on their motorcycles in their cuts, their muscular bodies controlling the powerful
machines with ease, was just another distinction between them. Their radiant power was visual
proof how far he was from the man he used to be, and each mile they traveled only reinforced the
contrast.
With the shape he was in, he wouldn’t be given the opportunity to become a Last Rider. In order
to gain entry into the club, a prospect had to fight three of the eight original members. If you
managed to live, you became a member.

A s Viper parked his SUV in the parking lot, he wanted to beg him not to make him go inside.
The only thing stopping him was knowing that neither his brother nor his father would make
him. They would drive him to one of their homes in a heartbeat.
Springing out of the car as soon as it came to a stop, afraid he would break if he stayed, he
rushed to the front door before any of the riders behind the SUV could talk to him. He came to an
abrupt and looked around wildly, his mind already searching for escape routes.
The sound of the doors swishing open behind him had him jumping to face the oncoming threat
with a heaving chest.
“Son, I haven’t seen you move that fast since I walked in your bedroom to wake you up for school
and caught you jerking off.”
Reaper flushed at the memory, his racing heart slowing when he saw their troubled faces.
Tight-lipped, he let Viper handle his check-in while he and Ton were escorted to his room. It was
larger than he expected and didn’t feel as cold and impersonal as the hospital. Balcony doors gave a
view of a walled-off, private garden and patio, giving it an atmosphere of a small apartment instead
of an expensive room to monitor addicts like him.
Before Viper returned to Treepoint, Reaper promised himself that he would talk to Viper about
paying the bill for his stay. Viper hadn’t discussed Reaper’s money since his return, and each time
he brought it up Viper and Ton told him they’d discuss it when he was better. He hadn’t argued with
them, but if he was ever going to get back on his feet, he needed to find out where he sat financially.
Viper told him that Bedford had stolen the money for the new factory’s equipment, and Reaper
was sure—even if Viper hadn’t said it—that Bedford also stole the money from his personal accounts
as well.
The woman who had escorted him to his room introduced herself as his nurse and said she would
give him time to settle in and that his doctor would be coming to discuss his medications and
treatment.
“The couch opens into a bed. I could stay ….”
Opening the balcony door, Reaper walked out, not giving Ton the opportunity for him to change
his mind. Taking a deep breath, he had to remind himself that, while he would be watched here, he
wasn’t being held here. He was free. It was a mantra he had to keep reminding himself over and
over to keep from going ballistic and no longer feeling trapped in the godforsaken Road Demons’
clubhouse.
“How’s the room?” Viper asked, coming outside to stand next to him.
“Fine.”
Reaper looked at his brother when Viper closed the door.
“Taylor called when I was filling out your paperwork.”
“What’d she say?”
“She wants to see you.”
The joy at hearing that was muted by the awareness of his tenuous health, both mentally and
physically. He wasn’t the same man she had said goodbye to.
“Tell her that we should wait until I feel better.”
Viper shook his head at him. “You can tell her yourself. I gave her your number. I told her to wait
until tonight. I didn’t want to spring her on you without any warning.”
“I’m not ready to talk to her,” he snapped, annoyed that Viper had given her his number without
his say-so. Viper shrugged, unperturbed by his anger. “That’s your call to make. You don’t want to
talk to her, it’s simple—just don’t answer.” He moved back to the sliding door. “Now, if you’re ready
to come inside, there’s a couple of people waiting to meet you.”
Reaper half-turned, then frowned seeing a man and woman talking to Ton. “Who are they?”
“Calder is a friend of Killyama’s, and the woman is her mother.”
“Why are they wanting to meet me? Is Killyama here?”
“No. They offered to take turns staying with you.”
His lips tightened. Reaper should have known that Viper had a backup plan when he hadn’t
agreed to let him or Ton stay.
“Before you say no, just meet them, okay? Neither of them were told about the Road Demons.
You can tell them as much or as little as you want.”
“What good would they do—”
“They’re both recovering addicts.” Viper’s voice became gruffer as he spoke. “Give me and Ton a
break. It’s hard for us to leave you, knowing that if it gets bad you won’t tell us. At least we’ll know
that you have someone to turn to—”
Reaper raised his hand to stop him. “I’m not making any promises, but one of them can stay a
couple of days.”
Viper gave a sigh of relief, then went to the door as he started to wrap his arm around Reaper’s
shoulders, but Reaper hurried forward before Viper could complete the motion.
Nodding at the introductions to Calder and Peyton while avoiding eye contact with his brother,
he ended up making the meeting uncomfortable.
“Ton and I will leave you to get settled in. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” Viper grinned, holding
the door open for Ton.
Reaper pinned him in place. “A couple of days?” He recognized the determined expression that
filled Viper’s face all too well.
“I’ll be by at least twice a week; one will be on the weekend so that Aisha and Winter can come.
Ton has his own car, so expect a couple of visits from him. The brothers will give you a few days
before they start stopping by to visit.”
His father hurried through the door, seeing the battle about to erupt between him and Viper.
“I don’t want visitors until I’m ready,” he growled out.
“They aren’t visitors,” Viper said, going out the door. “They’re brothers.”
Reaper stared at the door as it closed, then angerly jerked his head to the side at the laughter
coming from the couch.
Calder had his long legs sprawled over the coffee table and started fiddling with the television
remote, while Peyton studied him for a moment before saying she was going to search for his nurse
to get him something to eat. She left the room before could tell her he wasn’t hungry.
“I have one of those myself.” Calder laughed harder at Reaper’s irritated expression.
“What?” he snapped. “An overprotective big brother or a pain in the neck?”
“Viper’s not that bad.” Amusement showed in Calder’s eyes.
The amusement had Reaper losing control of his tongue like he hadn’t been able to with his
brother. “Try living up to a brother who never screws up. I got mad at him and gave my cut back,
lost our company thousands of dollars, got my ass kidnapped, and everyone thought I was dead for
over nine years. The woman I was supposed to marry is now married to another man and is going to
have his kid, and I’m stuck here because, as much as I want to get on a bike, I don’t have enough
strength to keep a full meal down much less walk out of here on my own steam.”
Calder crossed his legs at the ankles. “Try living up to a big brother who had thousands of
dollars on the line for endorsements, and he gave them up to try to get me clean after I started
using after getting my father killed. Not only did the endorsements dry up, so did his marriage. My
old lady dumped me when I was in prison, and when I got out, the only job I could get was working
for my brother. Every day I go into work, I can tell he’s wondering if this is the day I’ll start using
again.
“This is your first attempt at rehab. I’ve had three. If I hadn’t been locked up long enough to get
clean, I’d still be using. And despite all of the shit that he’s done for me, you know what bugs the
fuck out of me about him?”
Reaper felt the beginning of tremors shaking his legs as he unsteadily made his way to his bed to
sit down. “No. What?”
“His fucking nickname. Stud,” he snorted out enviously. “And you know what really puts the
cherry on top of my shit sundae?” Calder rocked his head back and forth, prompting Reaper to ask
the question he wanted.
“No. What?” Reaper gave in, commiserating with him as only a younger brother could.
“He married a woman nicknamed Sex Piston, and she’s hot as fuck.”
“Damn, that would suck.” Reaper could feel his pain.
Calder raised his hands in frustration. “Yeah, it does, right?” Dropping his hands, his face turned
mournful. “I used to want to be him just for a single fucking day to see what it would be like.”
Reaper raised a questioning brow. “You don’t anymore?”
Calder shook his head sadly. “Hell no! I finally had to admit that I’d never be man enough to step
into his shoes, not even for a fucking hour, much less a whole day.”
“Why not?” he asked curiously, lying down sideways on the bed and stuffing a pillow under his
head.
Calder gave him a pained look of acceptance. “Did I mention he was married to Sex Piston?
Brother, I’d never want to live up to that challenge.”
 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- F O U R

“Y ou can block her number if you don’t want to answer,” Shade suggested from the other side
of the table, laying his napkin on his empty plate.
Reaper raised his eyes away from the cell phone laying on the patio table. “I know.”
Shade’s gaze met his. Unlike Viper, Ton, and the other brothers who visited, Shade didn’t pull any
punches.
“You look like shit. You need to start eating more.”
“I don’t have much of an appetite.”
“Why? Because your stomach can’t tolerate food or you just don’t give a fuck?”
Giving him a grim smile, Reaper braced himself. Shade was a brutally honest man and what
allowances he had made for Reaper were rapidly evaporating each time he came for a visit.
“Why are you here, Shade? Don’t feel like you have to just because the other brothers do. Don’t
pretend you have an ounce of feeling for me. I know you too well.”
Shade’s gaze turned steely. “I know you too well, too. Enough to know that, if you’re waiting to see
Taylor because you want to look like you used to, then you’re twiddling your thumbs needlessly.
You’re the one who bragged about her loving you regardless of how many medals you had. If she
loves you as much as you think she did, she’s not going to give a fuck how you look now or what
happened; she’ll just be happy you’re alive.”
“If Taylor loved me, she would have come to see me at the hospital and not had to think about it.
How long did she wait until she started dating?”
“You really want to go there? I’m not going to sugar coat my answers to you.”
“How long?” Reaper firmed his jaw.
“A while. To tell the truth, I didn’t keep track. Train was the one who spent the most time with her.
Razer and I were in Treepoint, trying to get the factory started when Viper called and told us she
tried to kill herself right before Train left to come to Treepoint. He stayed with her until she was
better. She started dating Burn before he joined us.”
“She married Burn?” He met Burn a few times before leaving the club. He served in the Navy with
Moon and had stopped by to visit him and stayed. That was pretty much how most of the members
had joined.
“Yes.”
“He was a nice guy.” Becoming nauseated, Reaper shoved his still full plate of food away.
“He still is.” Shade nodded. “He left the club before they married.”
“Have they been happy?”
“You’ll have to ask Taylor that question when you talk to her.”
Reaper laid a hand on the phone, silencing it when it started ringing again. “I will later.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Who does Viper have watching the Road Demons’ clubhouse?”
“Rider and Moon.”
“Has Slate shown up?”
“No.”
Hatred for the man who had destroyed his life burned hotter each day that he spent fighting the
addiction that still made days and nights a trial of endurance.
Shade leaned forward in his chair, compelling Reaper to focus back on him instead of the
tormenting memories. “Listen to me; I know you want payback. Slate isn’t going to catch you, and if
you want to capture the son of bitch, you’re going to have to put what he did to you behind you—
pretend the fuckers are dead if you have to. What you need to do is concentrate on getting better.
Then, when you’re ready, you will be able to use that strategic shit you excel at to find him or anyone
else you want.
“Slate has a whole network of buddies to hide behind. I bet he’s blackmailed more than three or
four to keep him safe so far, if not more. If I figured this shit out, you should have too. Not once did
you go into a battle or a mission unprepared, so don’t start now when it means so much to you.
Because, if you don’t and you keep letting your emotions lead the fucking way, you’ll be dead with no
one to blame but yourself.”
Shade pushed the plate that Reaper had shoved away back in front of him. “Now eat the fucking
sandwich.”

R
privacy.
eaper anxiously watched the door, waiting for Taylor to arrive. He was self-consciously aware
that Calder and his girlfriend, Crazy Bitch, had left the room to wait on the patio, giving them

Already heightened nerves had his breath catching in his throat when the door opened.
She was just as beautiful as he had remembered. Her luminous eyes were already glinting with
tears when she came through the door.
Where was the pounding heartbeat that he’d thought would be trying to jump out of his chest?
Confused at his reaction, he stood, still not sure if he should make the first move to hug her or
wait for her to do it. In his fantasies, she had run into his arms. Instead, she just stood there, looking
at him with sorrow in her gaze while twisting a wedding ring that he hadn’t been the one to place on
her hand.
“You’re still as beautiful as I remember.” Nervous, he took a small step forward, then stopped
uncertainly.
“When Viper told me you were alive, I couldn’t believe it. I still really can’t believe it’s true,” she
whispered tearfully. “I missed you.”
“I dreamed about you every day; it’s what kept me alive.”
Taylor stared down at her hands as she continuously twisted her wedding ring. “I’m married.
We’re having a baby.”
“Are you happy?” Fear that she was or wasn’t clenched his stomach in indecision, not certain
which answer he wanted to hear from her lips.
“I was …” Her trembling voice became firmer. “We are.”
“I never stopped loving you.” Had he? He inwardly searched for the feeling of love that he once
felt for her, scraping blindly to find even a tendril to harness the agony of what he was feeling—the
same disconnect with her as with everyone else from his past.
He had imagined reuniting with her so many times … It was what had kept him sane. Without her
there would be nothing left of him. He had already known the old Gavin was gone, but he had held
onto the hope that the part of him that belonged to Taylor would keep him grounded and wouldn’t let
him give in to the despair of grieving for the life he was terrified was now permanently lost to him.
“I won’t leave my husband for you. We built a life together. I might not love him the way I loved
you, but it’s good. I was never going to be enough for you, and with Burn, I’m all he wants.”
“Don’t say that. I’ll do anything you want,” he pled, feeling as if there was an invisible wall
between them.
Why aren’t I trying to scale the wall and taking her in my arms, he wailed internally to himself,
knowing the answer even though it was the last thing he wanted to admit. She was married and
carrying Burn’s child. Trying to get Taylor to break her vows had him going back and forth between
wanting to succeed and being repulsed at himself.
“I’m sorry, Gavin. I’m so sorry … I shouldn’t have come. I just needed to see you one last time and
say our good-byes in person.” Turning she went to the door.
“Don’t leave,” he begged, feeling as if she was sucking the air out of him the farther away she
moved. “Please stay … I love you,” he again begged helplessly.
“It’s the first time you’ve told me I love you, and I actually believe it,” she said with her back to
him.
“I do!” he cried out, frantically clinging to the reunion that he had imagined and not the one that
was actually taking place.
“If you had meant it before you left for Treepoint, we wouldn’t be in this position. I won’t leave
Burn, because he did for me what you were never willing to do.”
Reaper closed his eyes in agony. “Taylor ….”
“Good-bye, Gavin.”
“Please don’t leave … Stay and talk.”
“I can’t.”
His feet rooted to the floor, he made no attempt to stop her. He couldn’t. He yelled out her name
for her to come back, while relieved she had done what he hadn’t been able to do for himself. She
showed him that she was strong enough to walk away from him and find happiness without him. She
didn’t need him. She never had. She would be happy with Burn in a way that she would have never
been happy with him, because Burn was strong enough to survive without The Last Riders, and his
one attempt of separating himself from the club had shown what a failure he had been.
Groaning in despair, he reached for the television remote, throwing it at a framed picture of The
Last Riders on the wall that Peyton had drawn for him. “Taylor, come back!”
It was the twenty-five-year-old Gavin who started for the door, unable to merge back with the
reality that the love he’d had for Taylor, the only life preserver keeping his head above water, was
gone.
He was pulled back as he reached for the door handle.
“Taylor, come back!” Infuriated that he wasn’t strong enough to jerk away from Calder’s
restraining arms, he desperately tried to make his way to the door.
“Let me go, Calder. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t. Taylor! God … please don’t
leave me.”
“Gavin, she’s gone. Don’t make it harder for her.” Calder tightened his grip on him.
“Harder for her? What about me? She’s the only reason I’m alive.”
Listening to his own words coming back at him, he stopped struggling against Calder. If she loved
him, she would have come back when she had heard him calling out for her. Even if he no longer
loved a woman, he would have come back and talked to her if the positions had been reversed.
Blindly, he sat down on his bed, staring at the blank wall where the picture had hung. Slate had
told him that Taylor wanted him back. In his mind, he could see Slate laughing at him.
Incoherent words tried to filter through Slate’s maniacal laughter. Slate’s imaginary body grew in
size, blocking him from reaching out to the voices that were trying to call him back. Drowning in a
sea of Slate’s malicious taunts, he had no way to rise to the surface. Even if he did, he had no way to
remain afloat without Taylor.
He didn’t fight as hands laid him down on the bed, or when he felt a needle prick, grateful for the
oblivion that came, not caring if it didn’t come with the same rush as the ones that Butcher had given
him, allowing him to find the only escape he could—through sleep.

H e sat outside, senselessly staring out at the white concrete that kept him inside these walls. It
was the only barrier left to protect the world from Reaper and what he’d once believed was the
only thing that had kept him from Taylor.
Single thoughts swirled through his consciousness, and every one of them were as fucked up as
the things that were done to him in that basement.
I wish they never found me.
Then I would have never known she moved on.
That she was carrying a child that wasn’t mine.
I could still be down there.
Just die there like I should have.
And those tapes … would have died with me ….
Each thought became harder to form in his listless stupor as warmth radiated from a hand placed
on his shoulder. It was like he was being pulled up from the darkest depths of the ocean until he
floated just beneath the surface, seeing the sun glowing brilliantly through the water.
A heart-wrenching song filled the water, calling to him. The mournful voice that he had heard that
day in Lucky’s church had him wanting to find the solace the beckoning voice promised … until he
finally reached up … breaking through the water.
Reaper shook his head as if blinking water out of his eyes and found himself sitting at the table on
the balcony, and a man was sitting in the chair next to him. Normally, he would have asked why the
hell the man was there, but he felt a sudden peacefulness that kept him strangely calm.
“I recognize you. You came with Shade one time when I first arrived here.” Reaper remembered
the brief meeting. The man had come, but after being introduced, he left quickly, saying he would
wait for Shade in the car.
“Greer Porter,” the man reintroduced himself. “I knocked; you didn’t hear me, so I waited five
minutes for you to say fuck off or come in, but I ain’t got all day to be wastin’,” he explained, then
nodded at the untouched food on Reaper’s plate. “You gonna eat that?”
Reaper looked at the unappetizing sandwich. When he had been held captive, he had sworn to
never eat another sandwich, yet they were the only thing he could hold down without vomiting.
“No, you can have it.” From his ashen features, Greer looked like he needed it more than Reaper
did—and that was saying a lot.
“Thanky. I appreciate the hospitality.”
Reaper watched as Greer carefully unfolded a napkin, placing the sandwich inside. Then he
wrapped it neatly before looking at him.
“You ain’t never going to get any meat on those skinny bones of yours by eating puny sandwiches
like this. A few T-bones will fatten you up in no time. If I had a brother as loaded as Viper is, I’d be
eating steak every night, and a few for lunch, probably a bitty one for a midnight snack. Why you
settling for cheese sandwiches?” he barked. “There’s a good steakhouse about a mile away from
here. Made Shade take me there when I came here with him.”
“They’re the only thing I can keep down,” he admitted, feeling like he was a ten-year-old being
scolded.
“Then order two. Eat one, and when it comes up, eat the other one. You’ll be able to keep the
second one down. If not, who cares? You ate two steaks.”
Reaper stared at the man who was laughing at his own joke, beginning to understand why Shade
had been in such a bad mood the whole time he was there the day Greer was with him.
Greer’s face turned serious when Reaper didn’t laugh at his humor. “If your stomach is giving
trouble, quit trying to eat meals. Just take a couple of bites at a time. If you can keep it down, take
another couple. Start slow. I’d go with the petite sirloin then work myself up to one of those T-bones.
They have a special going on now; you can get unlimited shrimp. Pop a couple of those babies in your
mouth with a couple bites of steak, and you’ll be right as rain in no time.
“Just don’t tell them I sent ya. They might still be a little peeved at me. I ate dinner there last
night. The manager had to send a worker to another store for more shrimp. Pissant manager
wouldn’t let me in the door this afternoon when I went there for lunch. Going to talk to Diamond—
that’s Knox’s wife—when I get back home. I think they violated my constitutional rights by refusing
to serve me. What you think?”
Reaper wanted to tell him that he was crazy as fuck but restrained himself, afraid he would send
the man into another rant. “I wouldn’t know.”
“I’ll let you know what I find out after I talk to her. You met her yet?”
“No.”
“She’s a decent lawyer. My wife works for her. When you meet her, don’t mention my name. Me
and her had dealings in the past. She gets a little testy when she hears my name. You ever need her
services, make sure you get a set fee, or you’ll be buying her more than one of those expensive shoes
she loves.” Reaper watched the man in stunned silence. He wouldn’t shut up.
“Damn,” Greer swore, staring down at his watch. “Got to be going. My old woman will be
wondering why I’m not home for dinner. Word to the wise: marry a woman that can cook.
“Oh, by the way … I forgot what I came for.” Standing up, he went around Reaper’s chair to pick
up a box that was on the ground. Reaper couldn’t understand how it got there. “I need to leave this
here for someone to pick up. You got a place I can stash it?”
Looking at the large box, Reaper shook his head.
Greer ignored him, carrying the box into his room, then shoved it in the closet.
Reaper gaped at him. “You can’t leave that here.”
“Why not? There ain’t nothing illegal inside. I’ll have you know that I’m an officer of the law …
part-time,” he clarified, walking back to the patio table to pick up the sandwich. “You can open it if
you want. Just give it to anyone that asks for it.”
“When will they come and get it?”
“Don’t know.”
Greer moved to his side, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Order that steak, you hear me? You’ll be
able to keep it down. When you get back to Treepoint, ask Shade to bring you around the house. I’ll
introduce you to my old woman and the kids. Shade said you like lighting one up on occasion; we’ll
celebrate your homecoming in style. Of course, we’ll have to go to the barn. My woman gets a little
touchy about us lighting up the green around her and the kiddos.”
“You do know I’m here because I’m a recovering addict, right?”
“Of course. Do I look stupid? I ain’t offering you one now. I said when you get back to Treepoint.”
Reaper’s face went ice cold. “I’ll never go back to Treepoint.”
Greer’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Why not? What you got against Kentucky? Loretta Lynn was
born there. You like music, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Besides, you’ll like living in Treepoint now that you know me.”
Reaper didn’t think it was a point in the state’s favor. “I’ll never step foot in Treepoint again.”
“Let me give you another piece of advice. Never say never. Swore I’d never marry a woman who
couldn’t cook. Ask me how well that turned out. Holly couldn’t make a pan of cornbread if her life
depended on it, and I have to sit at the table every Sunday and pretend it’s the best I ever tasted.
“Never only lasts as long it takes a woman to change your mind. I should know; I’m an expert on
women. Had three women wanting to marry me. How many women you got wanting to marry you?”
“None,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
“See? That’s another reason to come to Kentucky—I’ll get you married off in no time. I’ll even be
willing to vet their cooking skills before introducing you to them. Of course, I’d expect a finder’s fee
if you decide to pop the question—”
“I thought you needed to leave?” Reaper interrupted him.
“You trying to get me out the door?” Greer didn’t skip a beat, taking it in stride that Reaper was
trying to get him out the door.
“Yes.”
“Cool. I respect an honest man. I need to be hitting the road anyway. Did I mention don’t tell
anyone I was here or about the box until someone asks?”
“No, you forgot that part.”
“Now you know, so don’t. I wouldn’t want you to spoil the surprise.”
“Are you sure you’re okay enough to drive?” As much he wanted Greer to leave, the man was
looking sicker by the moment.
“I’ll be fine once I eat and get some sleep. If I wasn’t on the down low, I’d get one of The Last
Riders watching the building to take me out to eat before heading home.”
“The Last Riders are watching me?”
 “You don’t seriously think any of them wouldn’t make sure you’re safe and sound before they can
get you home?” Greer snorted in disbelief.
“If you’re on the down low, then how did you get inside?”
“The day I can’t outsmart a Last Rider is the day my kin will be burying me.”
“If money is an issue, there’s cash in the drawer under the microwave.”
Greer gave him a pained look of regret. “I can’t take any money from you.”
“It’s not my money; it’s Viper’s. He left it for Peyton or Calder in case I want any food from the
restaurants nearby.”
“In that case, I might take enough to grab a burger on the way home.”
Reaper turned in his chair to watch Greer go inside to the small kitchenette. Opening the drawer,
Greer pulled the cash out before coming to the table to show him. Unfolding the wad of cash, Reaper
didn’t miss the avaricious gleam in Greer’s eyes.
Thumbing two tens off the top, Greer tucked them into his front shirt pocket. “That’ll buy me a
nice burger. I’m kind of running low on gas; you mind if I take enough to get home? Viper can afford
it.”
Reaper tightened his lips. “Go ahead.” He would give him the whole thing if he would just leave.
“Thanky. I appreciate it.” Greer thumbed off three twenties. “My truck has a big tank.” Shoving
the sixty dollars in his pocket to add to the twenty he already took, he gave Reaper a pained look
before setting the remaining cash down on the table.
Reaper told himself not to ask but couldn’t help himself. “Is there something else you’re needing?”
“Now that you mention it, that steakhouse I was telling you about has another restaurant on my
way home. I could stop there and take a breather. That is … if you don’t mind?”
Reaper gritted his teeth. “Help yourself.”
“Thanky.” Greer took the cash again, peeling off five twenties.
“That’s an expensive steak.”
“They charge nine ninety-nine extra for the unlimited shrimp, and I always like to give a good tip.”
Putting the hundred dollars in his pocket, he set the remaining cash down on the table, then
picked up the sandwich he’d put down.
Reaper side-eyed him for taking the sandwich when he was going to a restaurant.
“It’ll give me something to snack on during the drive. Besides, I done told ya you need some red
meat. Don’t forget to get Calder to order you one when he gets back from picking Peyton up at her
apartment.”
“How did …?”
Greer tapped his forehead. “I wouldn’t be a Porter if I let anything get by me. The Last Riders
need to start thinking like me.”
“I’ll tell them you said that.”
“Do that. Just wait until after someone comes asking for that box.” Tugging up the belt on his
jeans, Greer gave him a nod. “Good seeing you again, and thanks for the cash. I’ll thank Viper too. Of
course, I’ll have to wait—”
“Until someone comes for the box,” Reaper finished for him.
“Of course.” Greer smirked, then his expression changed as if an idea came to him. “On the other
hand, I’m going to do you a favor. I’m going to put this cash on a tab for you.”
“For me?” Had Greer become a patient here? The man was crazier than he was.
Greer nodded seriously. “Yep. I’m going to find you a wife.”
Reaper wanted to strangle the man. He put his hands on the table to help himself rise.
A firm hand pushed him back down.
“Ain’t no need to get up to thank me. I already have a woman in mind for you. Of course, I’ll be
having to taste her cooking before I can introduce you, but if she can cook cornbread, we can get you
hitched in no time. I’ll keep in touch.” The man picked up the remaining cash, then went back inside
to put it back in the drawer.
“Greer?” Reaper called out before he could get out of the door.
“Yo?”
Rolling his eyes, Reaper was again tempted to strangle him, but he wanted to make sure of one
thing before he left.
“Do you have my phone number?”
Greer gave him a Cheshire smile. “What’d you think? I’m a Porter, ain’t I?”

H e was towel drying his hair when Peyton and Calder came into his room, looking at him as if
they had never seen him before.
“You’re looking better,” Peyton said hesitantly, giving Calder a surprised glance. Calder seemed
just as stunned.
“I feel better. Calder, would you mind going out again to get me something to eat?”
“I’ll call the nurse and get her to bring—”
“No, I’m in the mood for take-out.”
 Calder and Peyton stared at each other before turning back to him.
“I can get you anything you want.”
“Good. There’s a steakhouse nearby; can you order me a petite sirloin? I like it medium-rare.”
Calder’s face broke into a happy smile. “I’ll be right back.”
Reaper’s stomach began hurting from the thought of the food. Swallowing hard, he forced the
next words out. “Order two.”

S triding out the side door, wearing only shorts and running shoes, Reaper took a deep breath,
filling his lungs with fresh air as the wind blew the leaves on the trees. The private grounds of
the treatment center were picturesque, giving the illusion of freedom while the strategically placed
cameras around the grounds monitored the patients.
Raising his chin up, he let the sun hit his face, enjoying its warmth.
Starting out by walking, he placed the wireless headphone in his ear as he gradually eased his
walk into a jog while listening to music. Taking deep breaths when he wanted to quit, he pushed past
the limit he had set for himself the day before. Hatred motivated him onward, as he made plans for
his revenge.
Hatred for Slater.
Butcher.
Ink.
Vamp.
The Count.
All names and then some that were tattooed on his soul forever like the dark tattoos inked on his
skin.
Reaper started running again, this time tuning out the beat of a heart that had nothing else to
lose….
 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- F I V E

R eaper glanced down at the suitcase on the bed. Neatly packing the Destructors jacket that
Stud had given him and the Blue Horseman jacket that Calder had given him, he zipped the
suitcase closed before setting it upright on the floor.
Reaching for the third jacket that had been in the box that Greer asked him to keep, he started
for the doorway when Viper walked in his room.
“I signed the discharge order. I’m ready to leave.” He gave his brother an impatient look. Viper
was supposed to have been there thirty minutes ago.
His brother let Reaper’s irritation slide off his shoulders. “I was taking care of the bill, and I had
to wait and sign for the meds they want you to continue to take.” At one time, Viper would have
snapped back at him instead of explaining what had taken him so long.
Taking the discharge paper, Reaper handed Viper his jacket, then opened the top of his suitcase
to put the paper inside.
“It’s yours now,” Viper protested.
“It doesn’t fit.” Sickened at the memories of acts he had been forced to perform at Slate’s
bidding, he didn’t deserve to touch the jacket, much less wear it on his shoulders.
Crazy Bitch and Calder had been the ones to ask for the box. Taking it out of the closet, Crazy
Bitch explained that it was meant for him. Opening the box, it had contained the three jackets, each
with different patches and club names on the back.
Taking a step forward, Crazy Bitch touched the one on top. “This is Stud’s. As president of the
Destructors, he’s telling you they will always have your back. In the pocket is a motorcycle key. It
belonged to Stud, but now it’s yours.”
Calder reached for the Blue Horsemen jacket, spreading it out to take the keys out of the pocket.
“This is my jacket. As president of the Blue Horsemen and brother, I will always have your back.”
Reaper took the second key handed to him. “This is the key to my motorcycle. It’s yours. Stud will
put both bikes on a trailer and park them at The Last Riders’ clubhouse tomorrow.”
He recognized the third jacket when Calder put his hand in the pocket and pulled out another
key.
“You don’t need me to tell you that this is Viper’s jacket or that The Last Riders will have your
back; you already know that.” Calder placed the key in Reaper’s hand.
Reaper could only stare at the jackets and keys. Club presidents didn’t give up their jackets or
their bikes.
“Viper said he’s been riding it for you, but that you need to ride your own bike. They want you to
know that it’s time to come home.”
Going to his closet, he took out a plain black leather jacket and shrugged it on. He would never
be the man who deserved to wear Viper’s jacket.
Clenching his jaw, he picked up the suitcase, leaving Viper to follow. When he’d been admitted to
the treatment facility, he had barely weighed one hundred pounds. The doctors had told him it was a
miracle his heart was still beating. Reaper didn’t think it was a miracle; he knew his heart no longer
existed.
He didn’t look back at the room where he’d endured the agony of withdrawal from Butcher’s
concoctions. It had taken him months to regain enough strength to leave on his own steam. Without,
Calder and Killyama’s mother, he would have been wheeled out on a coroner’s gurney.
It had been a long, hard struggle to fight the addictive drugs he’d been poisoned with for years.
Slate might not have given a fuck if he ate or drank every day, but he had made sure something was
pumped into a vein to keep him under his control.
His saving grace was the determination to rebuild the body that Slate had done everything in his
power to destroy. Each day he spent in rehab, after he’d been strong enough to start exercising
again, was used to strengthen his muscles. Eating enough calories to fuel the workouts had been
the hardest part. He hated to admit it, but taking small bites had worked. Gradually, he’d grown
stronger until he was able to tolerate longer workouts, and the increase in calories was restoring
his haggard appearance. He weighed more now than when he had been kidnapped, muscles defined
and sculpted with the challenging workout he did twice a day. Peyton had brought four different
sizes of clothes for him to wear during his stay. The shirt and jeans he was wearing now were
already getting too tight, showing the body underneath was anything but frail.
Walking toward the sliding glass doors, it still felt as if one of his captors was waiting to snatch
him back. He hadn’t talked to Viper about where he planned to live to rebuild his life. Each time
Viper brought it up, Reaper shut it down. He had only one thing on his mind and until that was
taken care of, there was no need to think of what was going to happen next.
Coming to a stop before the doors activated, he was about to ask Viper for his gun—he didn’t
want to go out in the open without a weapon—when Killyama and Peyton came through the door.
As the women walked toward him, he thought about how, if they hadn’t claimed the relationship,
he wouldn’t have believed they were mother and daughter. Killyama was twice the height of her
mother; Peyton was petite. While both women were feminine, the mother would catch a man’s eye,
and Killyama would knock his socks off. Their personalities were just as different. Peyton exuded
caring and mothering, and neither of those traits applied to Killyama.
When Killyama visited him at the rehab center, he expected the same tenderness and kindness
she had shown when she carried him out of the Road Demons’ clubhouse. That wasn’t what he’d
gotten.
She was a smart-ass with a quick tongue that could shred a man to pieces with one word.
Earning Killyama’s love, Train deserved another medal to go along with those he’d earned in the
military that decorated his uniform.
Peyton gave him a misty smile as she grew closer. “You look fantastic.”
Bracing himself, he didn’t pull away when Peyton reached out to hug him. Uncomfortably
hugging her back, he looked down at the small woman who helped him through the worst of his
withdrawals. She and Calder had taken turns staying with him, giving him encouragement when he
needed it, and giving the brutal truth that it was going to get a lot worse before it got better.
He had found that out for himself after Taylor had come to see him.
The fantasy he built during his recovery had gotten him through the worst of the withdrawals.
That fantasy of them together ended the day she came to see him.
As much as Taylor had sworn to love him, she had never been real with him about her wanting—
no, needing—him to part ways with the Last Rider’s. She accomplished that with her current
husband. When she had come to see him and refused to stay and talk with him, it had been a clean
debridement, leaving him vulnerable and exposed as she walked away.
He didn’t remember what happened after she left. The doctor had a medical term, but the way
Crazy Bitch had said it was more apt. He had bugged out and had to be medicated for three days;
the next thing he knew Greer Porter was sitting with him. After Taylor left, he had realized she’d
done him a favor by coming.
With that last illusion of him achieving a normal life gone, the love he had felt for her had been
scrapped away leaving a scarred and hardened shell of a heart, whose only purpose was to pump
ice-filled blood to an organ that no longer had the capacity to hold any lasting emotions for anyone,
including himself.
Physically and emotionally he didn’t want anyone within touching distance of him, the only
exception he made was Calder and Peyton. They had earned his trust, but even with them he kept
the contact to a bare minimum.
He allowed Peyton a five-second hug, before he had to disengage himself. She looked at him
proudly, dropping her hands to take his. “I was here for your first day, and I wanted to be here for
your last.”
“I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me.”
Pulling his hands away, he greeted Killyama. Unlike her mother, she made no attempt to touch
him but examined him from hair to boots.
“I wouldn’t say you look fantastic, but you do look damn good. If Train and I weren’t already
hooked-up, me and you could’ve had a thing.”
Reaper raised a brow.
Killyama was wearing skintight leather pants and T-shirt that said, Move Fucker, Or I’ll Run Your
Ass Over. She also had a gun holstered on her hip.
“Excuse me, you can’t carry your weapon in here.” A security guard came out from behind the
front desk.
“I didn’t see any signs that I can’t carry.”
“Personal weapons are supposed to be concealed.”
“Do you know how fucking hot it is out there?” she snarled.
“Ma’am, you need to leave, or I’ll be forced to take your weapon and call the police.”
“Call them. I’m not scared of Deputy Wannabe-A-Real-Cop.”
“Rae!” Peyton grabbed her daughter by her arm and tugged her to the door. “I’m so sorry,
Officer. She’s leaving. She won’t be any more trouble.”
The security guard puffed up his chest. “She better not be.”
Reaper had been in the service and knew the signs of an impending attack. The woman who had
been so gentle with him the night he’d been saved had a hair-trigger temper that still amazed him.
That, and the fact she was Peyton’s daughter.
Reaper blocked the security guard, nodding for Killyama to go to the door. She huffed, then
strode out the door, moving away from her mother.
“Rae can be a little temperamental,” she said when he and Viper reached her side.
“Are you sure there wasn’t a mix-up the day you had her?” Reaper couldn’t help asking as the
doors slid open.
“She has a lot of her father’s personality.”
“You said his wife killed him.”
“Yes, she did. God rest his soul.”
“Have you thought about hiding Train’s guns so she can’t get to them?”
As they exited the building, there was a small area with benches. All of the front parking were
handicapped spaces and filled with various vehicles. It was when they walked past the benches that
he saw the lot was filled with motorcycles and two vans. Train stood next to one of the vans, and
Hammer and Jonas were standing next to the other one. Killyama was angrily getting in the van
where Train was standing.
“My car is over there.” Peyton motioned to a small, grey Honda. “I know you have all your friends
waiting. I just wanted to stop by and wish you well. Just because we won’t be besties anymore,
doesn’t mean that I won’t expect a phone call every couple of days to let me know how you’re
doing.”
“I can do that.” Reaper knew what she was waiting for. Bending down, he gave her a good-bye
hug and let her give him a quick peck on his cheek before backing from her. Then both he and Viper
stood watching as she walked to her car.
“I plan to pay her back for staying with me,” Reaper told his brother.
“She won’t take any money. I tried.”
When they were assured she was safely in her car, they turned toward the men who had filled the
parking lot.
“Why are The Last Riders here?” Reaper kept his attention on Viper, having been unable to see
some of The Last Riders since his captivity. “I thought it was going to be the nine of us?”
Viper reached into his jacket pocket and took out a gun, handing it to him. “I thought so, too. I
didn’t tell them you were getting out today. But the others figured it out when I scheduled us off for
the day. They were already on their bikes when I got to the parking lot. How could I tell them no?”
“You’ve never had trouble saying no in your life.” Tucking the gun in the small of his back, he
strode toward his motorcycle.
Viper sat down on the bike next to his and put his key in the ignition.
Reaper slung his leg over the seat to start his own. “They know we’re coming?”
“Pretty sure they’ve been expecting it since your escape.”
“Good.”
Four miles away from the Road Demons clubhouse, they stopped at a gas station to refuel. After
each tank was filled, they moved to the side to the parking lot for the original members to look at
the house blueprint that Jonas had made. Hammer gave brief, concise instructions to each person’s
responsibility in the attack. Reaper didn’t pay attention to any of it, his blood getting colder and
colder as Hammer pointed to different areas of the house.
Seeing the blueprint of his chamber of horrors, where each boxed-off square held more
memories of his debasement than he could count, was a macabre reminder of the torture he
withstood.
The sun was beginning to set when Hammer folded up the blueprint. “There aren’t going to be
many there,” Hammer told him. “Most of them ran like fleas when you got away. The cowards didn’t
even bother going back to the club to get their shit. Jonas has been tracking them down for us. So
far, we’ve managed to find Raff and Ink.”
Reaper never expected any of the ones he wanted to be there, just the drugged-out hangers-on
that had nowhere else to go. Hammer took his phone out, giving him a considering look, only
handing it to him when Viper nodded at him.
Reaper looked down at the picture of the man on the phone, aware of Killyama coming around
his shoulder. She had been standing toward the back of the van Train had been driving, staying
back as the men talked.
“That’s the one I took out on the way out.”
He didn’t take his eyes off the picture. “That’s Chain.”
“Not anymore,” Killyama said proudly.
“Scroll to the side. Those are the others we took out.”
Reaper slid his thumb to the side. He didn’t recognize any of the others. None of the pictures
invoked any memories of seeing them during his captivity.
He could understand how Slate had gotten away with keeping him for so long. He had limited his
contacts to ones he trusted the most within the club. From what Viper had told him, the ones who
had taken part in his tortures were those that Slate had met online and who paid to be there.
Sliding his thumb over again, he saw a face he did recognize. “That was Brewer.”
 Reaper received no satisfaction at seeing the bullet-ridden biker. He would have rather him be on
the run with the others.
Handing the phone back to Hammer, he asked the question that had been burning like a wildfire
in his brain. “Have you found Slate?”
“Not yet. Jonas and I are close, but so far, he’s been jumping between hideouts.”
“You can stop looking.” Getting on his bike, Reaper put his riding gloves back on. “I’m going to
be the one to track him down. He’s mine.”
Viper took the lead as they pulled out of the gas station. A mile away from the club, they stopped
on a dirt road. Parking his bike, Reaper went to the van to get his weapon. Train handed it to him.
Reaper held his baby in his hands, feeling the familiar weight as if he had just held it the day before.
“Need some help?” Viper spoke next to him.
The brothers shared a glance, remembering all the times they had fought alongside each other,
so familiar with each other’s habits that they wouldn’t have to say a word.
Reaper handed him his modified flamethrower, so he could take off the leather jacket he’d asked
Peyton to buy for him before leaving the treatment facility. Placing the jacket in the back of the van,
he started to take the flamethrower from Viper.
“Don’t forget this.” Rider jumped down from the van and handed him a box.
Opening the box, Reaper’s hand trembled as he looked at Viper. “I thought you cut it up.”
The Last Riders had two hard and fast rules. When you left the club, you lost your bike and your
jacket was cut to shreds, essentially cutting any ties to the club.
“Brother, you know I’m a tight-ass. If I cut up a jacket every time you got pissed at me, it would
have cost me a fucking fortune to replace them all.” Viper handed Rider the flamethrower when
Reaper hesitated to put his cut on. Then, taking the jacket out of the box, he turned it so that
Reaper could slide his arms inside.
He took a step forward, turning around and putting his arms inside as Viper held it. With a hard
smack on his shoulder, Viper moved to face him.
“It still fits,” Reaper said gruffly.
“If you gain any more muscle in your shoulders, it’ll be too tight.” Viper took the flamethrower
from Rider to give it back to him.
Taking it, he slid the strap onto his shoulder next to a button by the collar. Reaper used his other
hand to flip a slender flap over the strap. Once in place, he could swing the thrower over his
shoulder and let it ride on his back until he was ready to use it.
Silently, The Last Riders got back on their motorcycles.
They didn’t plan a sneak attack on the Road Demons; they rode up the long driveway, two by two,
with the vans going last.
Reaper and Viper stopped a few feet from the door, saving enough room for both the tactical
vans to park sideways, giving cover to the Riders from any bullets coming from inside the house.
There weren’t any.
Reaper let Viper get off first, then it was his turn. Lucky was next, and then … one by one, The
Last Riders got off their bikes according to their rank. Only one Last Rider was missing from the
exodus that stormed the house.
Shade, who had been waiting for their arrival, was perched high in one of the surrounding trees,
waiting to kill anyone who ran out.
It was a wasted effort. The only ones they found inside were fourteen hangers-on. Nine of them
were women.
Moon, Train, and Killyama herded them outside as the rest searched the house for anyone
hiding. Reaper stood in the living room, waiting until Hammer and Viper returned. He saw from the
ashen expression on his brother’s face that Viper had gone into the bedroom and down into the
basement.
“It’s …” Viper had to clear his throat before continuing, “clear.”
Reaper nodded grimly at Hammer. “Get everyone out.”
Hammer barked out, “Pull back!”
When it was just the three of them, Hammer nodded that the house was empty, leaving him and
Viper alone.
“Get out.” Reaper had waited and built his fury to a boiling point. He wanted Viper out of harm’s
way.
“Let me do it.”
Reaper couldn’t look at his brother. He didn’t want to see Viper’s anguish. He was too consumed
with hatred for the Road Demons and for himself to deal with Viper’s reaction at seeing the place
where he’d had years stolen from him. There was nothing that Viper or any of The Last Riders could
say that would make it right about what had happened to him.
“No.” Reaching behind his back, Reaper pulled his flamethrower around to his chest. “Get out.”
Viper remained still. Reaper could read the indecision on his face.
“Don’t worry; I didn’t live through Hell to make this place my graveyard.” It was hard to do, but
he gave Viper what he needed. “Go outside. I have no intention of torching myself.”
His fears eased, Viper strode outside, leaving him alone.
 Putting his finger on the trigger, Reaper walked around the club, room by room, using his
thrower to spray the clear liquid onto each object. He could hear the sounds of his boots as he
walked on the floorboards, each sound echoing through the empty house.
Reaching the bedroom, he made sure to soak the bed until the liquid dripped down to the floor.
Then he stepped into the bathroom and sprayed the room in a wide arch before going down the
basement steps.
In his mind’s eye, the ghost of captive him waited for him at the bottom, moving back to the wall
as he had done when one of the Road Demons had come to get him.
The ghost against the wall wasn’t drug-induced; it was the him who had waited for years to be
rescued. The him that, each time that fucking door opened, had hoped it was someone to set him
free.
He had been so out of his head when Train and Shade had come down that he hadn’t been able
to enjoy the triumph or joy that he had waited so long for.
Standing in the middle of the room, he sprayed the room in a circle a couple of times, leaving one
thing untouched.
When he was finished, he watched his ghost walk across the floor and lay down on the cot. When
his imaginary wraith turned his head toward him, Reaper used the last of his spray to douse it from
end to end.
Letting his flamethrower drop to his side, he used his other hand to sling it over his shoulder.
“Rest easy, brother. I’m going to make them pay a thousand times over for what they did to you.”
Walking back up the steps, Reaper left behind the weakened Gavin that never stood a chance of
escaping. The one who believed in love, hope, loyalty, and human kindness, only to discover those
qualities didn’t exist.
Going into the disgusting kitchen, filled with dirty dishes scattered everywhere, Reaper was
amazed that he hadn’t died of salmonella poisoning as nasty as the place was. Picking up a dirty
glass on the counter, he saw roaches scatter behind a pile of paper plates.
He turned the faucet on, not bothering to rinse the glass out before filling it to the brim.
Carrying the water back into the bedroom, he went inside the closet to stare down the steps before
flinging the water down.
Turning on his heel quickly as the flames began, he went back into the bedroom to toss the glass
onto the bed. There was only a drop or two clinging to the glass when it landed on the bed, but that
was all the liquid he needed. The bed ignited into flames, spreading across the mattress to the floor
below, each flame igniting another droplet of the spray.
Reaper walked through the licking flames, unconcerned.
Razer had developed the specialty spray, along with the flame-retardant one that he treated his
boots and jeans with. As he walked back through his former prison, flames sprouted up beside him,
yet he remained untouched. Leaving through the front door, a free man, the flames were reaching
the ceiling, consuming the second floor.
Outside, Reaper watched with The Last Riders as the house burned to the ground.
“Did you call the fire department and tell them not to come, that we’re just clearing a field?”
Reaper heard Razer ask Viper.
“Yes. They won’t come. If they do, the fire will already be out by then,” Viper answered.
The sprays that Razer developed were not available for sale—only Razer held the recipe. When
the brother bit the dust, the recipe would go with him.
He had discussed the decision with Viper, leaving the final say-so to him. Razer was working for
The Last Riders when he’d invented the spray and tested it using the company’s resources. The
military would have paid enough money to fill their accounts for the rest of their lives and any
children that they would have, but the destructive use was too deadly to leave in the government’s
hands. All the original members put it to a vote, each of them signing over their rights to Razer.
Each time he witnessed the spray’s lethal devastation, he was amazed at how the flames ignited
and burned whatever was in its path, regardless of what it was made of, down to the dirt, not even
leaving ash behind. Like a surgeon with a laser knife, it only destroyed what had been sprayed,
leaving anything untouched that hadn’t.
Razer had rigged the flamethrower just for him to use. Reaper had asked him once why he hadn’t
made it for himself.
The brother shook his head. “Because if I get mad at one person, I have no problem taking out
the whole motherfucking group.”
“Then why let me be the one use it?”
“You don’t get mad; you get even.”
Reaper stood still as the night grew dark, watching the orange flames consume the house, then
suddenly disappear, as if the club had never been there. The only thing left was the scorched earth
it left behind.
Reaper stalked toward the van, his open jacket catching the wind and billowing out. Giving Train
the flamethrower, he went to his bike and swung his leg over the seat.
Viper swung onto his, starting at his bike, then raising his kickstand. Reaper started his bike,
waiting for Viper to take the lead. When he didn’t, Reaper turned to look at his brother curiously.
 “What’s the hold up?” he rasped out, his mind still on the pathetic ghost he was leaving behind.
“Waiting for you to tell me where we’re going. Treepoint or Ohio?”
“I’m going to Ohio. You and the others can go home to Treepoint.”
“That’s not going to be how it works this time, Reaper. Razer, Cash, Knox, Lucky, Shade, Rider,
and Train took a vote. If you pick Ohio, that’s we’re going. You pick Treepoint, then we’ll stay there.
But we aren’t splitting up again. This time when we fall, we’re all going to fucking fall.”
“I’m never going to step foot in Treepoint again.” Reaper raised his voice so all the men could
hear. “Go back to your wives and homes!”
“Our wives voted, as well.” Viper smiled. “Remember, they’re also members. The Last Riders will
never leave one of us behind again.”
“Fuck!” Reaper yelled at each of the men. “Go—”
Lucky started revving his motor so loudly that Reaper couldn’t hear his own shouting.
“—motherfucker—”
Razer started revving his motor, then Knox … then Rider … then Cash.
Reaper knew he was beaten when Train started revving the van’s engine.
Raising his hand in the air, the motors went back to idling.
“Well? Which one?” Viper asked, his hands on the clutch and throttle.
“Treepoint!” he snapped.
“Cool. We were hoping you’d pick that one,” Viper joked with a grin.
Killyama rolled her window down. Hanging out the van, she shouted, “So, where in the fuck are
we going?”
Reaper saw the grin on Viper’s face.
“Cool.” She hit the side of the van door. “If you fuckers see us pulled over and the van is rocking
and shaking, we’ll see you back in Treepoint.”
Viper’s look turned into one of concern. Getting off his bike, he went to the back of Train’s van
and took out Reaper’s flamethrower, putting it in Hammer’s van. Back on his bike, he saw Killyama
looked like a kid at the fair who had dropped her ice cream cone.
“Never mind, you all can eat our dust.” She gave him the fuck you sign with her hand before she
rolled the window back up. The woman wouldn’t be receiving more roses from him.
“You know, if you do want to go to Ohio, we can ditch Train before we get on the interstate,”
Viper offered.
He didn’t want to go back to Treepoint, but another ghost needed to be put to rest, and he
couldn’t accomplish that in Ohio.
“Treepoint will do,” Reaper stated, letting Viper ride off before completing his sentence. “For
now.”
 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- S I X

R eaper followed Viper down the hall, bittersweet memories of how proud he had been when the
work on the club had been going on. It was yet one more thing that he could add to the
growing list of what he had missed out on.
Would he and Taylor have lasted? Would they have had children by now?
He shoved his hands into his back pockets as they entered the bedroom at the end.
“Rider packed your suitcase up while we were in the kitchen. Can I get you anything before I go
home?”
“Yeah, you can stop walking on pins and needles around me and tell the others the same thing.”
“They’re just glad to have you home.”
“This isn’t home, and it’s never going to be. I’ll stay here until I take care of the Road Demons
and a few other things I need to take care of. I’ll stay out of everyone’s way, and I’d appreciate the
same courtesy.”
“Gavin …” Viper’s face twisted in torment. “I’m sorry.”
Reaper winced at the name of the ghost he had put to rest.
“Don’t call me that.” Picking up his suitcase, he tossed it onto the bed. “If you don’t mind, I need
to take my meds and get some sleep. Could you ask Knox if his wife has any appointments in the
next few days? I have some legal business that needs to be taken care of.”
“I’ll tell him to give Diamond your number.” His brother moved to the door. “That way, you both
can work out what’s convenient for both of you.”
Reaper heard the door close.
Taking his meds, he then took a shower. He checked to make sure the windows and doors were
locked before sliding the large desk in front of the door. Tomorrow, he would go to the hardware
store and buy stronger locks. Zipping up the suitcase, he didn’t bother to unpack before lying down
on the bed naked. Turning the light off, he tossed and turned, trying to get to sleep.
After an hour, he got up and started pacing around the room, counting how many pictures were
on the walls. Done with that, he started counting the floorboards. Then he wearily glanced at the
clock on the wall.
Trying to go back to sleep again, he turned the light back out. The stuffy room had him beginning
to sweat, but he didn’t want to open a window.
Turning on the television, he sat watching the news until his eyes grew heavy. Leaving the
television on, he turned the light back on and went to the small refrigerator, taking out a bottle of
water, then gulping it down while he stood in front of the fridge, letting the cold air hit his sweaty
skin. Throwing the empty bottle in the trash can beside the refrigerator, he took out two more
before closing the door.
Setting the bottles on the nightstand, he lay down again, staring at the news channel with the
volume muted. The nights were the worst since his rescue. It took pure exhaustion for him to sleep
for a few hours at a time.
Getting off the bed again, he started doing pushing ups and crunches. When sweat was pouring
off him, he went back into the bathroom to take another shower. Toweling his hair dry, he lay back
down on the bed. He was watching the morning news when he finally fell asleep.
Three hours later, he was walking into the kitchen, feeling all the eyes turn toward him as he
made himself a plate of food. Ignoring Rider, Viper, and Razer sitting at kitchen table, he went into
the dining room to sit at a small table.
Reaper poured the syrup over his stack of pancakes, aware of Jewell and Stori staring at him,
debating whether to talk to him. Solving the problem, he picked up his plate, going back to his
bedroom to eat his meal.
He stayed closeted in his room, trying to familiarize himself with the computer on his desk.
Becoming frustrated at how much they had changed, he watched several YouTube videos explaining
different models. He jotted down notes for what he needed in a computer, so when he went out to
buy one of his own, he would know their different capabilities.
 He was adding more locks and bolts to his list when a knock sounded on his door. Opening the
door, there was dark-haired woman facing him.
“Sorry I’m late. I was held up in court,” Diamond explained, stepping in when he moved aside.
“That’s fine. I’m just glad you had an opening today.” Reaper motioned for Knox’s wife to take
the extra seat at the desk.
Diamond hadn’t been what he expected when Calder told him that Knox and his wife were
coming to visit him at the rehab center. Like all the other times he’d been told someone was visiting,
Reaper tried to dissuade them.
He expected her to be like Evie or even Jewell. It hadn’t taken him long to discover why Knox had
finally settled down and put his past heartbreak behind him. Diamond and Knox’s first wife had one
thing in common—they both worshiped Knox.
Sitting down at the desk, Reaper tried to think of a way to ask for her help. Calder had told him
about her sister, Sex Piston, who belonged to a group of friends that included Crazy Bitch and
Killyama. Calder had joked before getting serious, saying, “She knows how to keep her mouth shut
about what she’s working on, and she knows how to get to the bottom of things. She’s one of the
best defense lawyers in Kentucky. She’ll do right by you.”
That didn’t matter to Reaper. What he had done was going to come out. He needed to be
punished for it. Maybe that way, he wouldn’t see the face of the woman he killed every time he
closed his eyes.
“You wanted to talk to me about a legal matter?” she prompted when he remained silent.
“I need you to find out some information for me and represent me when I turn myself in to
Knox.”
Hers eyes widened. “Let’s not jump ahead of ourselves. What do you think you’re responsible
for?”
“I don’t think. I know I killed a woman when I was held captive. I want you to find out who she
was so I can turn myself in.”
Reaper expected her to make an excuse to rearrange the meeting or at least ask to go downstairs
to be around others after confessing to murdering someone. Not many women would want to be
alone with a murderer without bars between them.
“Are you so anxious to be locked up again?”
Reaper blanched at the thought.
“Are you sure you’re responsible for her death?”
“I strangled her. I don’t remember much about how it happened, but I know I did it.”
“First off, quit saying that and make sure you don’t say that to anyone else. Let’s get the facts
straight before you convict yourself.” She didn’t seem repulsed. In fact, she was being discerningly
direct.
Reaper smoothed a hand over his tired face. “I only remember pieces. And that’s not all I want
from you. Knox told you about the tapes that Slate took of me?”
Forthright, she admitted her husband had told her the details of his captivity. “He did. Knox
wanted me to be prepared for what you were going to tell me.”
“Did it work?”
“Nothing could prepare me for what he told me.”
Reaper paused, changing his mind. “Thanks for your time, Diamond, but I think it would be
better if I hired a male attorney. I don’t want you to have to watch those tapes.” Reaper started to
get up to open the door for her.
“I would be honored to help you, if you’d let me,” she said softly. “I have a pretty strong stomach.
If I get too squeamish, I’ll tell you, okay? I’m a lot tougher than I look. And to tell you the truth, I
resent that you think I wouldn’t be able to handle watching those tapes. Would you say that Knox
couldn’t handle anything thrown his way?”
“No.”
“Knox hasn’t seen those tapes, nor does he want to. If you think you’re going to turn yourself in
to Knox to put you in jail, think again. He would quit his job before he’d turn the key in your prison
cell.”
He sat back down. “If you change your mind, I’ll understand.”
“Have you seen the tapes?” she asked.
“No, and I’m not going to. I lived it; I don’t need to relive it from another person’s viewpoint.”
She didn’t spare his feelings. “You’ll see them when we go to court if the D.A. decides to charge
you.”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
“Fair enough.” Diamond opened her briefcase, taking out a notepad and a tape recorder. “Do you
mind? This way, I can play it back in case I miss something.”
“No, go ahead.”
Pressing Record, Diamond held her pen over the paper. “Start from the night you were
kidnapped.”
Reaper frowned. “Why do we have to start there? I just thought you would need me to tell you
that I killed the woman. Slate would have taped that one. Either he had a fascination watching
people die or the people who paid for his tapes did. I don’t know which. He catered to a lot of sick
fantasies.”
Diamond pressed the Stop button. “Earlier, when you said that finding out who you killed wasn’t
the only thing you needed from me, does it involve other things that you did?”
“Yes.”
“What other fantasies did he cater to?”
“Slate had auctions to buy a night with me. He’d drug me until I did anything they asked.” He
rubbed his forehead hard with the heel of his palm, trying to erase the bits and pieces he
remembered of those auctions.
“Okay. Scrub that question. I’ll watch as many of the tapes that Jonas can find. I’ll also ask Knox
to search through Crash’s computer to see if any are there. When I’m done, not only will I have a
clearer picture of what happened to you, but so will you.”
He nodded.
“I want you to go back to the earliest memory. I need to know the details of what happened, so I
will know your mindset when each incident occurred. You’re going to have to be brutally honest
about what you remember ….” She held her hand up authoritatively when he would have
interrupted. “If I can’t take it, I’ll tell you. If you have trouble discussing with me in person, I can
leave the recorder, and you can do it at your own speed.”
“We can do both.”
“That’s a good compromise.” She brought her finger to the Record button. “What’s the first thing
you remember?”
His lips curled into a smile.
Surprised, Diamond lifted her pencil off the notepad.
“I know it sounds strange, but the first thing I remember about that night was a song.”
“A song? What was the song?”
“‘In the Arms of an Angel.’”
 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- S E V E N

R eaper was dressed all in black, from his boots to his jeans, with his black leather jacket
unzipped, showing the black T-shirt that clung to him. On the outside, he was the healthy, vital
man that he was before his kidnapping, but on the inside, he felt as if Slate warped his DNA into the
diseased man who was now walking into the circle to exact the punishment that Crash deserved.
The original members who circled Crash still couldn’t understand that the old Gavin was gone.
They kept looking for traces of him, despite the truth they knew deep down. They were searching
through a graveyard and didn’t even know it.
Crash paled when he saw him. “Gavin …,” Crash started. “Broth—”
Reaper struck his hand out, backhanding Crash across the cheek. “No brother could do to me
what you did. I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy. I don’t have to tell you what they did—they sent
you the videos. I would have died before I let someone I call brother suffer through what I did.”
Crash started crying. “I didn’t know what to do—”
Rage filled him at Crash’s excuse. Striking him again, Crash didn’t even try to avoid the fist that
knocked him back a step.
“I know what I would have done. I know what every brother in this circle would have done. I
fucking know what Stud and Calder would have done, and they aren’t Last Riders!” Bearing down
on him, Reaper was finally able to say the words that he’d been unable to say when Crash stared
down at him from those basement steps. “You ate and slept in your nice, clean bed, while I slept in
filth and had to piss in a bucket! You ate food on a plate, while I ate leftover slop. You fucked women
who you wanted to fuck, while I was fucked by men and women who wanted to get their sick kicks
out on me.” Slate might never have videoed him when Crash was present, but the brother had been
sent the tapes, so Crash knew the extent of the torture he endured.
“I’m sorry!” Crash cried harder at his condemnation.
“If I could kill you a thousand times, it would never pay me back for what I went through.”
“I know—”
Reaper struck out again, hitting Crash and doubling him over. “Shut the fuck up!”
Crash stiffened his spine until he stood straight again. “I did what I could. That’s why they kept
you alive so long.”
“Thanks for looking out for me.” Filled with scorn, Reaper moved closer to Crash, wrapping an
arm around his neck before Crash could react. “I’m going to do what I wished someone had done
for me the first month Memphis and you left me to rot in the Road Demons’ basement.” Reaper
twisted Crash’s neck unnaturally until he heard the satisfying snap.
Tossing away the man who he had once called brother, he saw the disappointment on all The Last
Riders’ faces, each had been waiting for his turn.
“You were supposed to save some for the rest of us,” Viper said as he bent down to take Crash’s
pulse.
Staring down at the dead body of a man wasn’t hard for him, because Reaper had been on the
receiving end of Crash’s treachery. The others hadn’t. In fifteen or twenty years, would they regret
taking part in Crash’s punishment? Either way, Reaper took the regret out of the equation and
placed it right where it belonged. On him.
The Reaper didn’t have a conscience, not anymore. By the time he was finished with everyone
who had taken part in his captivity, it wouldn’t be the only blood on his hands.

T urning off the elliptical, he stepped off it to pick up his work-out towel. Wiping the sweat off his
face, he slid the towel down his neck to his chest.
“You need some help with that?” Jewell asked, rising from the work-out bench.
Reaper froze in place. Jewell had belonged to the club before his engagement to Taylor. Sexually,
she had been up for anything back then, and she still was. Reaper watched her and the other
brothers numerous times since he started living in the club.
After a few months, most of the women had made sexual overtures on him, but he ignored them
or left the room.
“I’m good,” he said, heading toward the steps that would take him upstairs, planning to take a
shower.
“I can go slow, just to let you take the edge off, or just give you someone to talk to,” she said,
coming around to block him from leaving when he stopped to listen to her. Taking each end of the
towel, she lifted her eyes that were filled with compassion. “I can be anything you want,” she
offered.
He grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away from him. He felt as if his skin were crawling, and
she wasn’t even touching his flesh. “When I need something, I’ll let you know.”
Stepping around her, he jogged up the steps. Coming into the kitchen, he saw Shade standing in
front of the fridge with a glass at the ice dispenser.
“What’s up?” he asked when Reaper would have left without saying anything.
“Nothing. Going to take a shower,” he said curtly, aware that Jewell had come out of the
basement behind him.
Shade’s eyes flicked from his expression, then to Jewell’s unhappy one before he pressed the ice
lever for more ice. “Jewell, do you have that report I asked you for?”
Reaper used the opportunity to leave the kitchen as Jewell answered Shade’s question.
Going through the living room and up the flight of steps, he rushed toward his bedroom, shutting
and locking his door behind him as rivers of sweat ran down his back. Even with the door locked
and bolted, he shoved the desk in front of it.
“Fuck!” he groaned, bolting into the attached bathroom where he jerked his shorts off to get in
the shower. Picking up the soap and sponge, he washed each inch of his body. It wasn’t her touch
that he was washing away; it was the filth that clung to his skin no matter how much he tried to
wash it away.
Thirty minutes later, he stepped out of the shower.
After dressing in a T-shirt and jeans, he moved the desk back, deciding to go downstairs to get
something to eat. Slicking his damp hair back with his hands, he unlocked the door.
The Last Riders were just beginning to line up at the counter where the food was laid out.
Getting in line behind Lily and Beth, he grabbed a plate when they reached the counter. Willa and
Stori were working to keep the food platters filled as soon as they emptied.
“I heard that Penni and her friends were coming for a visit.” Smiling, Willa pushed the ketchup
forward as Lily reached for it.
“How’d you find out? They just told me about two minutes ago.”
“Lucky just came through the line. He warned me that he’s getting another tattoo.”
Uninterested, Reaper picked up two rolls and enough butter for four.
“Colton always texts the men when he’s coming to set up appointments for them. The last time
he ran out of time to do Lucky’s,” Willa explained, “he promised him he could go first this time.”
Reaper took two hamburger patties, his interest piquing. “He any good?”
Lily and Beth turned around, shocked that he had initiated a conversation with them. Then Lily
raised the sleeve of her dress, showing him her tattoo.
Whoever Colton was, he was better than good. He was an expert.
“Who is he?” Stabbing a fork into a baked potato, he lifted it onto his plate.
“Once a year, Penni comes for a visit, and her friends from Queen City tag along. Colton is a
tattoo artist. He’s married to Vida, a friend of Penni’s. They’ve all become friends with Lily and
Shade ever since they met them when they came to Queen City to visit Penni.”
“You think he’d have time to give me one?”
“I’ll have Shade text you his number; you can ask him yourself. Most of the guys keep him busy,
but he might be able to do it while he’s here.”
“Thanks.”
Nodding, Lily turned back to Willa. “I bet you’re looking forward to seeing Ginny. Will she be
staying with you? Shade and I are putting up Penni and Jackal, Sawyer and Kaden, and Vida and
Colton.”
“No, she wants to stay at the hotel in town. I couldn’t talk her into coming here.”
Taking his plate, he left the women to sit at a small table for two in the corner, away from
everyone else.
Reaper was taking a drink of his milk when Lily and Beth sat at a table not far away. As he ate,
he watched the sisters excitedly talk about their visitors.
Buttering his roll, he saw Shade and Razer walk into the dining room. Razer took a seat next to
his wife while Shade bent down to kiss his on the cheek and said something in her ear before going
around the table to take a seat at his table.
“I sat here so I could eat alone.” Reaper unapologetically met Shade’s enigmatic gaze. “Go sit
with your wife.”
Shade picked up his hamburger. “We need to talk about Raff and Ink.” Taking a bite of his food,
he watched for Reaper’s reaction. “The brothers watching them don’t think they’re going to meet
up with Slate like we hoped. Viper wants to know what you want—to keep waiting or take them out.
Could be a better use of manpower if we don’t have to keep them under surveillance anymore and
extend the search for Slate.”
Reaper casually buttered his other roll. “I’ll think it over and get back to Viper.”
“You do that,” Shade said, taking another bite of his burger. “With Rider gone to visit his half-
brothers with Jo, we have a situation with a friend of ours that we could use your input on how—”
Reaper picked up his tray. “We done?”
Shade put his elbows on the table and interlocked his fingers. “I guess so.”
He knew that Shade was restraining himself from knocking his block off. All the brothers were
handling him with kid gloves. He didn’t even care anymore, not if it meant they kept their distance
and let him keep his.
If Viper or Shade needed input on how to deal with a situation, they were better off asking
someone else. Someone who wouldn’t let himself be used as a toy for every perverted motherfucker
who had a computer.
In his room, he changed into dark jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Taking his jacket, he went
back downstairs and out the front door.
Moon was the lookout, guarding the front door. Sitting on the bannister with one leg hooked over
the railing, he raised his cigarette to his lips. “Where you headed?”
“Out.”
“No shit.”
Reaper didn’t turn around at the sarcastic reply, going down the stairs to get on his bike. Revving
the motor, he took off. Driving through town, he continued, reaching the turn-off for the road that
led to Jamestown.
Four hours later, he was coming out of a restaurant, seeing several text messages from Viper.
Reaper put the phone back in his pocket, not even opening it to see what the messages said. He
knew Viper wanted to know where he was.
Reaper didn’t stop until the next morning, checking into a hotel room to catch a couple hours of
sleep. Exhausted, he locked the door behind him, then barricaded the door before dropping his
saddlebags on a chair and himself onto the bed. He had just closed his eyes when his phone rang.
“What?” he snapped into the phone.
“Where are you?” Viper sounded concerned.
“I went for a ride. Do I fucking need your permission to do that?”
“Depends which direction you’re heading. You wouldn’t happen to be where either Raff or Ink
is?”
“I’m about ten miles away from Raff.”
“I wanted to be there—”
“Afraid I can’t get the job done myself?”
“No, I just wanted a piece of him, too.”
“You ask Shade anytime he leaves to get a job done?”
“No.”
“Then leave me the fuck alone. I’ll be back in a couple of days. Raff is going to be quick and easy.
I’ll let the brothers have a piece of Ink. I’ll be bringing him back with me.” Disconnecting the call,
he flung the cell phone onto the mattress by his side.
Putting his arm over his eyes, Reaper felt Viper’s pain as much as he tried to block it out. His
brother and all The Last Riders kept trying to bridge the growing disconnect between them. They
had wanted to make a move on Raff and Ink months ago, yet he had wanted to wait. The two men
were too used to Slate calling their every move. He wanted his revenge on Ink and Raff, but he
wanted Slate more. They would be easy to find, going back and forth to different hangouts. It was
Slate who was proving elusive.
Slate was the reason he couldn’t sleep. He was the reason for his nightmares. And the biggest
reason of all—one that he hadn’t told Viper or any of The Last Riders—was that Slate knew he was
coming for him, that he wouldn’t stop unless the earth no longer existed. The only way Slate was
going to save his own life was to take himself out first. Reaper would use any means possible, even
using any of The Last Riders, to draw him out.
Calder had told him about the Silva Cartel when he had been in rehab, and how The Last Riders,
Destructors, Blue Horseman, and the Predators had banded together to defeat the cartel. Now,
coming out of having to deal with that, Reaper was determined to find Slate before The Last Riders
would have to live with the threat of him striking out at them because of him. Gavin had failed;
Reaper wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time when Slate or one of his half-baked minions
came for him, he wouldn’t be a man. He would be the Reaper.

aking his soda and hot dog from the concession stand, Raff watched the ass of the woman ahead of
T
him as he returned to the bench by the pool. Giving a sigh of regret when the sexy woman slipped
into the pool, he sat down next to his cousin.
“You bring me a hot dog?”
Raff shoved half of it inside his mouth, biting it off. He gave the other half to his cousin.
“I don’t want it after you put your mouth on it.” The eighteen-year-old gave a whistle as a hot
mama walked by them, holding her toddler’s hand.
“Damn.” Raff took a drink of his soda before eating the other half of his hot dog. “I’ve got to get
me some pussy. You better come through tonight, because that bitch you brought home last night
was useless. The only one who got laid was you,” he complained, finishing his drink while pulling
the leg of his swimsuit down.
A grey-haired bitch hanging onto the side of the pool gave him a disapproving frown.
“Can you blame her? You’re ugly as fuck. You could have at least put on a clean shirt.”
“I was going to be naked when I fucked her,” he joked, throwing his trash away.
“You ready to go? I thought you wanted to lay low.”
“Been laying low; that’s why I haven’t gotten laid. Nothing going to happen to me here. Besides,
I heard the fucker I’ve been dodging is doing rehab in New Zealand.”
“You must have fucked him up good.”
“You know it … in more ways than one.” He laughed.
Standing, he eyed a blonde with tits the size of boulders.
“Going for a swim. You see any of those men that I showed you pictures of around, pretend
you’re drowning.”
“I’d have to be in the water for that. I told you I don’t swim. I just came here to have your back
and watch ass.”
“Just make fucking sure you’re watching my back and not watching ass when I’m swimming.”
“Cuz, go swimming. I can do two things at once. Besides, there’s only like twenty dudes here.
Any of them get near you, you’ll see them coming.”
His cousin was right. Scanning the pool area, he didn’t see a man who resembled Gavin, nor did
he see any of The Last Riders. Crash had given them pictures so they would be familiar with them.
Sliding into the tepid water, Raff swam to the middle of the swimming pool toward Boulder Tits.
He was showing off his swimming skills when he felt a jerk on his ankle pull him under the water.
Fighting the downward motion of going under, Raff opened his mouth to scream and swallowed
water instead. Dragged farther down, he started to fight, his arms and legs flaying under the water.
His eyes flew open when he felt himself turned, his back pressing the bottom of the eleven-foot-
deep pool. Water bubbles came out of his mouth when he saw who was drowning him.
Gavin stared back at him, hatred glaring out of his eyes as he used his legs and chest to keep him
pinned under the water.
The bubbles came out slower and slower from his mouth as he lost oxygen. Raff felt his eyes
bulge as his lungs tried to breathe. His last thought wasn’t about himself, but fucking Slate. He
deserted them to go his own way. He deserved what was fucking coming for him ….

T he whistle sounded as he got out of the water at the other end of the pool. He didn’t turn to see
what had the lifeguards running and the onlookers scrambling out of the pool to see.
Going to a longue chair, he picked up his towel to dry himself off before putting on his
sunglasses. Shoving the towel into the black pool bag, he ignored the women who were lying on
their chairs, watching him.
“Looks like someone’s in trouble,” a perk brunette spoke up, trying to get his attention, her eyes
tracing over each line of his body.
He turned to look over his shoulder before training the lenses of his sunglasses back on the
woman. “Yes, it does. It looks like the lifeguards have it under control. Afternoon, ladies.”
Going through the turnstile, he saw an ambulance crew arrive. The lifesaving measures would be
a wasted effort. He had kept Raff under water long enough. Raff hadn’t stood a chance of beating
his record.

I nk came out of the movie theater, taking out his phone. The text sent him rushing toward his
cheap hotel room. He just had to make it one more day, and then his ex-wife would be there to
take him to her sister’s house where he could hide out for a while.
His hideouts were getting fewer and farther between. He had overstayed his welcome numerous
times, and his buddies had quit answering his calls. Hell, they were running from the same person
he was. In their dog-eat-dog world, only one was going to survive Reaper, and Ink was determined
he was going to be that lucky one. He had applied for a job at an oil rig, and if it came through, he
would be saved for six months.
 Opening the door, Ink went in, then locked it behind him.
Turning the television and the lights on, he paced around the room, intermittently looking out
the window. Nervous, he pulled a large chair in front of the door. Then, taking out his gun from
behind his back, he lay on the bed with his back to the wall, waiting for Reaper to bust through the
door. The hotel was in such a sketchy area that it would take the cops an hour to get there, if they
even showed without a body lying in the street.
Turning the television channel when he felt himself nodding off, Ink found an old action movie to
watch. He scooted off the bed, went to the window to look out again, and not seeing anything,
walked to the bathroom to take a piss. Shoving his dick back inside, he zipped his jeans back up.
As he was going through the doorway, an arm reached out, encircling his neck, pulling him back
against a hard chest.
“Didn’t your mother teach you to flush the toilet and wash your hands when you go to the
bathroom?”
Terrified, Ink didn’t try to fight back, hanging limply beneath the arm. “Gavin, Slate made me
….”
The man behind him gave a sardonic laugh. “You and Crash must have gotten together to get
your stories straight before I broke his neck.”
“Please don’t hurt me …,” he begged. “I can give you Slate …,” he gasped out. “I swear.”
“I wouldn’t swear if I were you. You don’t want to piss God off right before He sends you to Hell.”
“Please …,” he continued to beg, clawing his nails into the arm around his neck, his feet wildly
kicking out against the death grip around him.
Tasting the salty taste of blood in his mouth from biting his tongue, Ink was grateful that Reaper
was making it quick … and painless.

I nk woke up to water thrown on his face. Disoriented, he stared around at what looked to be a
white wall. He tried to sit up to see what was around him but couldn’t. His hands and legs were
handcuffed to metal bars that ran the length of his body; the cuffs allowed his arms and legs to slide
along the bars but not enough to raise them in the air. Groaning, he blinked at the sun shining down
at him. Nearly shitting himself he was so scared, he turned his head and saw he was in some kind of
heavy box. He lifted his eyes to see dirt all around, then started screaming when he realized the box
was cement and he was in a deep hole.
Terrified, he struggled to escape, his head jerking back and forth. “Help! Help!” he shouted at
the top of his lungs hoping someone would hear him.
Sobs of relief shook his chest when a shadow casted over from above.
He screamed at the silhouette of a man, “Help me out!”
“Why would I do that? I put you there.”
When the shadowy outline took a step closer to the edge of the hole, Ink got a clearer look at the
man. “Reaper … please. I have kids.”
“Who are better off without having you as a father. Even your ex-wife doesn’t want you around
them.”
“Fucking bitch! She ratted me out?”
“We knew where you were the entire time. The only reason I let you live this long is because I
want Slate. I guess he isn’t as loyal to you as you are to him.”
“I can get him for you, I swear ….”
Reaper bent down to his haunches with a beer bottle in his hand, giving him a mocking look.
“What did I tell you about swearing?” Taking a drink of his beer, Reaper watched him as he tried
jerking his hands out of the handcuffs.
“You recognize this place?”
Ink started crying, his hands becoming bloody.
“This is the grave where my brother buried me … Or, at least the body of the man he thought was
me.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that. That was all Crash and Slate.”
“Unfortunately, for you, I don’t feel as close to Crash as I do to you. He’s buried in a different
graveyard. No, this one is special. This is the one that, when I do die, I’ll be buried here. Why not?”
He laughed. “It already has my tombstone on it. Viper is all about saving an extra dime.”
Another man came to stand next to Reaper. “I paid a fucking fortune for that tombstone. I put a
lot of thought into that poem.”
“It sucks. Make sure you change it when I do die.”
The two men both drank their beers as they stared down at him. Ink then saw other men
surround the hole.
“Help me! He’s crazy!” Ink begged, crying so hard snot was making it hard to breathe.
“Afraid I can’t deny that.” Reaper straightened to his full height again. Jesus, he was even bigger
than when he had first been kidnapped. No wonder Slate had wanted to keep him almost starved.
 “Damn, it’s getting hot out here. You need something to drink?”
Ink knew better than to ask for something he wouldn’t get. He had ignored Reaper’s pleas too
many times for water to expect him to give it to him.
“You afraid to ask?” A sinister smile played over Reaper’s mouth. “Don’t be. Since we’re going to
be spending time together, the least I can do is give you water.” Reaper held his hand out to a man
standing out of sight. Ink recognized the man who came forward; Crash had shown him pictures of
the other Last Riders.
“Lucky … help me out! Please. You’re a pastor!”
“That’s why you’re getting the water,” he said, finding an empty space around the hole.
Reaper dropped the water bottle down into the vault. “I told him it was a waste of good water. In
case you haven’t figured it out, you’re in a vault for a casket. When the top goes on, it’s going to
suck out all the air from inside. Lucky thinks you might have a few minutes. I don’t. You’ll have to
tell us which one of us is right when they put my coffin on top of your bones.”
Ink’s mouth dropped open. Reaper was going to bury him alive, in the grave that used to be his.
Ink started laughing hilariously. “Son of bitch! I’ll be waiting for you!”
Reaper gave him a smirk before taking the last sip of his beer. “I’ve never been afraid of ghosts.
It’s the fucked-up motherfuckers like you I should have watched out for.” Flipping the bottle so that
Reaper held the neck in his hand, he threw it at him, hitting him on the forehead.
Viper then finished his beer, taking his time before flipping it the same way and hitting Ink on the
temple.
Did he just feel the handcuff slip enough to get his thumb out? Ink desperately started wiggling
his fingers trying to get his hand free as each of The Last Riders took turns throwing their bottles at
him. When one hit his dick, he pissed himself. Ink stopped trying to get his hand free. He knew he
was fucked. Slate knew he was fucked. That’s why he ditched them. He would rather have a bullet
in his brain than be buried alive.
“You’re acting like you didn’t enjoy several things that we did to you. Viper, did you know that
Gavin was Slate’s bitch? Hell, he was all of our bitch. He gave a better blowjob than the sluts in the
club did,” Ink goaded the president of The Last Riders.
An animal scream of torment came out of Viper’s mouth as his hand went behind his back to take
out his gun and point it at him.
Thank God, Ink thought.
“No.” Reaper reached out, taking Viper’s wrist and lifting it and the gun to the sky. “No, Viper,”
Reaper said again when Viper tried to pull his arm back down. “Shade, Knox, get him out of here,”
he rasped out.
Reaper waited until his brother was forced away from the hole. “Good try, Ink. I’m not going to
make it that easy for you. I begged you too many times to put me out of my misery. I’m giving you
the same compassion you gave me.” Reaper motioned to something out of sight, and then Ink heard
a motor start.
“You know what’s funny as fuck?” Reaper asked him.
Ink glared up at him, refusing to talk.
“This vault is a hell of a lot better than the shithole I was forced to live in.”
Ink started yelling again when he saw the top being lowered down, the two pieces of the vault
meeting with a metal sound.
“Don’t leave me in here … please ….” Ink started begging as the top began sliding down,
enclosing him within. “Motherfuckers!”

R eaper stood, watching the backhoe drop the chain onto the top of the vault, completely
enclosing Ink within.
He didn’t spare Viper a glance when he returned to his side as they watched mounds of dirt
being dropped onto the vault.
“How did you stand it?” Viper said hoarsely.
Reaper gave him the cold hard truth. “At first, I thought I could escape. When that kept failing, I
thought The Last Riders would rescue me. When that didn’t happen, I prayed to God to help me. He
didn’t; He let me wallow in that filth. You want to know how I survived what they put me through?”
Reaper’s lips curled up in a facsimile of a smile. “I didn’t.”
 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- E I G H T

“T
couch.
hat color looks good on you.”
“Thank you. I like yours, too,” Ginny complimented the woman sitting next to her on the

Inspecting her toes, she ran the tip of her fingernail along the side of her big toe, wiping a speck
of polish away.
“I’m not crazy about the one I picked. I prefer the plum I borrowed off you last week.” Gianna
held her foot out to show her the full effect of the new red polish that she purchased. “Which one do
you like better?”
“Both look good on you. Plum looks classier”—Ginny tilted her head, glancing at Gianna’s toes
—“but the red looks sexy. Do you want to be the stylish banker, or would you rather be a come-and-
get-me red?”
“Is there an in-between?”
“Of course.” Ginny leaned toward the coffee table to grab a bottle, handing it to her. “Hello,
Pink.”
Gianna lifted her eyes from the bottle. “Of course,” she said, breaking into laughter. Setting the
polish on her lap, she reached for the fingernail polish remover and cotton balls to start removing
the red from her toes. “How come, when you moved in here last month, you only had a couple of
backpacks and a makeup case of fingernail polish? You have more polish than you have clothes.”
“I have my priorities,” Ginny joked, seeing that Gianna was studying her seriously. She switched
feet and started polishing the nails on her other foot. “On the bus, you’re only given a small
compartment for your things. I got carsick when I tried to read; polishing my nails and watching
movies on my iPad made the drive go by faster.”
“Did you like touring with Mouth2Mouth?”
“I did.” Surprisingly, she had. It had given her time to heal from losing her home, and it opened
new horizons. Screwing the top back on the bottle, she rested her hand on her knee as she opened
up to her new roommate. “I loved living in Kentucky; it will always be my home.” Ginny
unconsciously rubbed the palm of her hand. “If I hadn’t lost my home, I don’t think I would have,
and then I would have missed out on seeing and doing things I never imagined myself doing.” Did it
make up for leaving Kentucky? No, but she had gained experiences that she would look back on
when she grew older and would be able say she had been there or done that.
Traveling with Mouth2Mouth had also taught her that life was a trade-off. She had to pick and
choose which items to carry with her in the backpacks, and only the most important or useful ones
made it inside. It was a lesson she learned the hard way on her first tour when she had only packed
clothes for the warmer climates. She had frozen her butt off during the air-conditioned bus rides
and when they were out at night. She ditched half her summer clothes by the fourth day. She had
also learned not to accept everyone at face value. Traveling with the roadies, she’d witnessed all the
hook-ups and broken hearts that went along with being in such close confines on the bus.
Living with Lisa had given her a backbone, but she had been broken when she had lost her home.
Then, leaving Kentucky had broken her heart, but it had also strengthened her. Touring was like a
fingernail file, shaping her until she was stronger and able to withstand more pressure. And if she
did break, she just grew more resilient. In Kentucky, she always had someone to count on in a
moment’s notice. Hammer, Will, and, deep down, she knew if she called the entire clan of the
Colemans, Trudy, and all her friends like Willa and Pastor Dean—any of them would have answered
her call. By leaving, if anything happened, it was just her, and that was the way she wanted it to stay
until she found a way to return to Kentucky without endangering Trudy. Losing her home had shown
her that she had been living in a fool’s paradise.
Money ruled the world, and she had none. It had made her weak. Every dime she saved made her
stronger, more able to see herself going back to Kentucky to have the life she wanted.
It had been a godsend that Penni’s network of friends included Gianna. Penni had mentioned that
her friend had been looking for a roommate. Ginny had her suspicion that Penni asked Gianna when
Mouth2Mouth decided to take a break from touring. When the band was on break, Ginny met her a
couple of times at Penni’s house. It was easy to like the woman who reminded her a lot of Beth. She
seemed very professional, nice, fun, and friendly.
Living with her had been the complete opposite of living with Bliss. Gianna had gone out of her
way to make her feel comfortable, opening her life to her as if Ginny had always been a part of it. So
far, the only drawback of living with her was her inability to find a job in Queen City while the band
was on break, so she was having to dip into her savings. Usually when she was on a layover, she just
rented an extended stay room at a hotel for the week or two in whatever city they’d stopped. Living
with Gianna, she was paying more for rent. So, unless she found a job quickly, she would go through
her savings and watch it slip through her fingers.
“Which band member do you like best?”
“They’re all pretty cool.” Absently answering her question, Ginny wiggled her toes to get her
nails to dry faster.
“D’mon is my favorite. What’s he like?”
“I don’t know much about him, other than he can’t stand mayo on his sandwiches. I really didn’t
have much contact with them personally. They travel on their own bus, and they don’t spend much
time in the kitchen area of the venues during the concerts.”
“Didn’t you try to chill with any of them?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I wasn’t interested.”
Disbelieving, Gianna threw a cotton ball at her. “Why the hell not?”
“Because I wasn’t.”
“Do you have a boyfriend back in Kentucky?”
“No.”
“You getting over a broken heart?” That question gave her pause. Ginny didn’t want to seem
crazy by giving Gianna the same answer she had given Trudy when she had asked why she hadn’t
been attracted to anyone.
“I just haven’t found the person who makes my heart go crazy.”
“Maybe you have, and you don’t know because you don’t hang out with them.”
“Maybe.” Ginny didn’t think so, but she agreed in hopes that Gianna would stop her line of
questioning.
She gave her a little nudge to direct her away. “How about you? Is your boyfriend the one?”
Gianna frowned. “Depends if he gets around to proposing to me when he finishes his PhD. If not,
then this girl will be moving on to brighter skies.”
“You’re going to break up with him if he doesn’t propose?”
“In a heartbeat. Don’t you want to get married?”
“I wouldn’t need a ring to know someone loves me.”
“It’s not about the ring; it’s about the commitment.” Twisting the cap back on the bottle, Gianna
picked up a magazine from the coffee table to angrily fan her toenails.
“I agree.”
She stopped waving the magazine. “You do?”
“Commitment is very important.” Ginny agreed. “I just wouldn’t need a ring as proof.”
“I do.”
Ginny was surprised her nails weren’t dry as fast as Gianna’s was with her waving the magazine
at them.
“I don’t. But then, I’m not the one with a boyfriend.” Ginny nodded sagely. “I could change my
mind when I do.”
“Did you feel that way when you did have a boyfriend?”
“I never had one. Never been out on a date either.”
Gianna gaped at her. “Never?”
“Never.”
“I’m going to cry.” Gianna changed the direction of the air flow toward her face.
“Why? I didn’t say I hadn’t been asked out, just that I haven’t gone.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I haven’t been interested in anyone who asked.”
“I bet if D’mon asked, you’d be interested.”
Ginny turned the television on, avoiding the conversation.
Gianna jerked the remote out of her hand, turning it off. “D’mon asked you out, didn’t he? And
you turned him down?” she shrieked.
“I wasn’t interested.”
“Any woman from the age of thirteen through older-than-dirt would be interested in him.”
“It’s cute how you’re starting up my Kentucky sayings.”
Ginny dodge the magazine Gianna threw at her.
“Next time he asks you out, give him my number, because I’m pretty fucking interested in him.”
“I’m getting the message,” Ginny teased. “Where’s all that talk of commitment you wanted from
Chris?”
Gianna wiggled her left hand in front of her face. “You see a ring on this finger?”
“No.”
“Then hook a girl up … please.” Gianna pressed her hands together and steepled them like she
was praying.
Ginny rolled her eyes. “If he calls me again, I will. Can I have the remote back now? I want to
watch Slaughter Under the Mistletoe.”
“Do you have to?”
“I could watch Murder, She Wrote if you’d rather?”
“I’ll pick the show. Do you have to watch morbid ones?” Turning the television on, Gianna started
flipping through movies to watch.
Tapping her toenails, Ginny made sure they were dry before she reached for the pillow behind
her back to make herself more comfortable. “Murder, She Wrote isn’t morbid.”
“Is there a dead body in every episode?”
She had her there. “Yes.”
Gianna pressed Play and the screen went dark. Their casual conversation ceased as a montage of
a young couple growing old had Ginny’s legs going to the floor.
“I think I’ll go lie on my bed and read for a while.”
“Hey.” Gianna grabbed her arm, stopping her. “If you don’t want to watch Up, I’ll pick something
else.”
“I don’t like movies like this. They bother me.”
“How do they bother you?”
“They make me sad.”
Gianna gave her the remote back. “I was just joking around to show you that some marriages are
very successful.”
“Gianna, I don’t have anything against getting married. I didn’t mean to give you that
impression. I know that there are happy marriages. I’ve seen them firsthand.”
Ginny saw her give her the side eye. “Go ahead, ask.” Why did people always assume she was
sexually confused because of her lack of desire to engage in meaningless relationships?
“Is it men?”
“I like men,” Ginny assured her. She found some men attractive; she just didn’t want to touch
them.
“Do you like women?”
“I like women, just not sexually.”
“Do you like men sexually?”
“Gianna …” Ginny started to warn her nicely that she was becoming too personal, but then she
couldn’t bring herself to hurt the woman’s feeling. “When you look at a dark sky and see the stars,
they’re all beautiful. There’s over one billion-trillion stars in the universe and there over seven
billion people on earth—not everyone gets to find the star that makes them whole.”
Gianna regarded her somberly, as if she was trying to decide whether to agree or disagree with
her. “Stars are too far away; how were they supposed to meet anyway?”
“They fall to Earth every day; you just can’t see them or they don’t land near you.”
“So, your star could be among people you have been near and didn’t recognize, or they’ve never
been where you can meet?”
“Yes.” Ginny knew her way of thinking was her way of explaining to herself the forlorn
hopelessness that she felt each day she awoke and every night she went to sleep that the one meant
for her was out of her reach.
“Which one do you believe?”
“The third option.”
“The third option?”
“That my star came to Earth, and I didn’t find him in time.”
“Girl, that’s some deep shit. Too deep for me without a glass of wine.” Gianna tossed the
magazine aside. “You want a glass?”
“I can get it. I don’t want you to ruin your nails.” Ginny went to the fridge to take out the bottle
of wine that they had been working on. Pouring out two glasses, she carried them into the living
room to give Gianna hers.
“Can I ask you another question?”
Curling back up on the couch, Ginny took a sip of her wine. “Since you introduced me to this
wine, go ahead. But the next bottle is on me.”
“Don’t worry about it. I keep several bottles on standby for when I have a bad day at work, or
when I want to strangle Penni. The wine mellows me out and keeps my ass out of jail.”
Ginny could relate. When Penni focused on something, nothing stood in her way. Sometimes it
worked out great, like when she had offered her the job with Mouth2Mouth and hooking up with
Gianna as a roommate. Then there were the instances when she wanted something and would harp
on you until hell froze over.
Penni had offered to help her move into Gianna’s apartment, but Ginny didn’t have much, just a
few boxes of small trinkets that she had collected when she’d traveled with the band and a few of
her personal belonging. She had rented a small storage unit to keep her things, and Penni had
helped her empty the unit out.
Ginny had carried one box out as Penni was lifting two of the smaller ones. When she had come
back, one box had spilled its contents on the ground, and Penni was reading one of the pages that
was loose.
Bending over, Ginny had grabbed the sheet of paper from her, shoving it back inside the
notebook.
“I’m sorry the box was heavier than I thought,” Penni apologized.
“Dropping the box may have been an accident, but reading my private papers wasn’t,” Ginny
snapped. Gathering the rest of the papers, she put the notebook back inside the box, then closed the
flaps.
“No, it wasn’t,” she admitted apologetically. “I was putting it back inside when I realized it was a
song. You’re very gifted. I could ask Kaden—”
“Stop, Penni. I don’t want you to ask him to read my music.”
“Why not?”
“I just write music when I’m bored, so don’t make more out of it than there is.”
“But—”
Ginny took the boxes out of her arms. “No buts. You can slide the door down; these is the last of
my things and we’re done talking about this.”
“I get you.” Penni raised her hands in surrender. “I won’t say another word. Let’s go grab some
lunch.”
Ginny hadn’t believed her for a second. They had been in the drive-thru of a chicken restaurant
when Penni had started hounding her about letting Kaden read her songs. That had been a month
ago, and Penni still brought it up when she saw or texted her. Penni’s spirit animal is a bulldog,
Ginny thought ironically, taking another sip of her wine.
“What did you mean when you said you didn’t find him in time?”
“I think he’s gone—returned home.”
“You think he’s dead?”
“Yes, that’s why I don’t watch unhappy or romantic movies because they make me sad.”
“Watching murder shows doesn’t get you upset?”
“No, they teach me how not to make mistakes that could get me killed.”
Taking a sip of her wine, Gianna started coughing, lifting watery eyes to hers. “You think
someone is going to murder you?”
“Not really. But if they try, I want to be prepared.”
“Do all Kentuckians think like you?”
“You know how Kentuckians say good-bye?”
Ginny saw the muscles in Gianna’s throat work as she swallowed a gulp of frightened air.
“No. How?”
“They say, ‘Be careful.’ We always expect something bad to happen and are happy when we see
that nothing did.”
“O … kay …,” Gianna drawled out. “That’s just weird as fuck. No one expects something bad just
because someone leaves.”
“Kentuckians do.” Ginny nodded seriously. “They’re very superstitious. At least, the smaller,
mountain towns are. Here’s another one: on Halloween night, look in the mirror on the cellar steps,
and you’ll see the man you’ll marry.”
Ginny burst out laughing at Gianna’s expression.
Her roommate laughed, too, going to fridge for the wine and bringing the bottle back.
“Marry a man in January, you’ll always be poor; February, you’ll be wed again; March, you made
a good catch; April, you’ll be crying soon.”
Their giggles filled the apartments until they were wiping of tears of laughter away and the wine
bottle was empty.
Searching for a movie they both could enjoy about scatterbrained cops battling a zombie
apocalypse, Gianna looked toward her before pressing Play. “Don’t give D’mon my number.”
“I think that’s a wise choice.” Ginny saluted her with her wineglass.
“Why?”
“Because you love mayo; that’s kind of a big thing to overcome.”
“Maybe so, but if mayo doesn’t cough up a diamond nugget, I’m switching to mustard.”

“A ny luck?”
Ginny closed the car door, letting Gianna accelerate back into the flow of traffic before
answering. “They told me that they would be in touch.”
She released a sigh of frustration. She needed a job and soon, positive the fast food restaurant
with the Hiring Now signs posted throughout the store next to Gianna’s bank was a slam dunk.
They’d given her a maybe, and I’ll get back to you.
Turning her blinker on, Gianna turned down a side street. “I wish you would reconsider applying
at my bank.”
“No, thanks. I don’t have any experience working at banks.” Ginny had refused the offer since
the second week she moved in with Gianna. Her roommate was as persistent as Penni when she
wanted to push her in a direction they wanted her to go.
“Are you sure it’s not out of your way to let me drop off my key card to Penni?” Changing the
subject, Ginny hoped to divert yet another round of Gianna’s assurances that it didn’t matter she
had no experience since the bank offered training. She was too wary of the required background
checks to put her neck on the line needlessly. She would find another job. She just had to be patient
and not make a reckless decision.
“I told you I didn’t mind. I’m free for the rest of the day. Besides, it’s just a few blocks away.”
Turning into a parking garage, Gianna raised her hand to flash a finger at the driver behind her.
After a loud honk, a large sedan flew past, nearly taking out Gianna’s bumper.
“You didn’t use your blinker,” Ginny reprimanded as they parked.
“He shouldn’t be going so fast,” Gianna countered.
Gianna’s driving skills reflected her personality—she took no prisoners.
Pressing the elevator button, Ginny waited to press the floor number until Gianna walked into
the elevator with her. “Are you sure you didn’t want to wait in the car? I’m only going to be a few
minutes.”
“If you go in there alone, you’ll be all day. Penni’s going to talk you to death, and I’m hungry.
You’re going to love my favorite restaurant. Chris hates seafood and won’t go with me.”
“I love seafood.” Memories of her and Trudy eating fresh fish as they watched their mother
prepare what their father or Manny caught brought a pang of sorrow mixed with anger that those
memories had been irrevocably damaged by their actions. It was like looking at a cracked mirror;
one part seemingly normal, the other distorted, showing the ugly that she had been too innocent to
know was there until it was too late.
Leaving the elevator, they walked down the hallway to Penni’s office. As Mouth2Mouth’s tour
manager, she was responsible for hiring the support crew. Each hire was given a badge that acted
as a pass to get through venue doors, so employees had access to come and go during events. All of
the band’s workers had been asked to return their badges until Mouth2Mouth went back on the
road. Ginny didn’t see that happening anytime soon. Penni had already informed the staff that
Kaden planned to take a year break to write songs for their next album. Penni had told her in
confidence that he had been offered several contracts to perform in different states and was
seriously considering the offers.
Penni’s office door was wide open. Smiling at the attractive woman behind the front desk, Ginny
moved farther into the office.
“Hi, Grace, how are you doing today?”
Grace returned the smile. “Fine. Penni told me you would be coming today. You girls look ready
to take on the world.”
“I don’t know about that, but we’re ready to take on Harry’s Seafood.” Still feeling the pang of
disappointment at not getting a job, she disguised her worry with false cheerfulness. “Is Penni
around? I need to turn in my badge.”
“I’ll get her for you and the paperwork you need to fill out.” Grace rose elegantly from her desk.
Ginny watched admiringly as the former model made her way the short distance to Penni’s office
to knock, then go inside, leaving her and Gianna alone in the front office.
“Why does she make me regret that bottle of wine and pasta we ate for dinner last night?”
Gianna muttered under her breath enviously.
Ginny shot her a surprised glance. “You’re just as beautiful. I’m the one who should be regretting
that extra helping of linguini.”
Her roommate was next-level gorgeous. She was almost as tall Grace, and her warm, brown skin
tone was flawless. While Grace’s features gave the impression of remoteness, Gianna’s high
cheekbones gave her a haughty beauty; both women could pull off their air of aloofness because
they were so gorgeous. They both wore dresses that showed their bodies to their best advantage
while being casually elegant, making men aware there was more to them than just their physique.
The only real difference she could see between the women were their boob sizes. As an AA, Ginny
felt like a thirteen-year-old compared to Gianna’s voluptuous breast size, which had her wishing she
could at least be a good B like Grace.
“You’re lying through your teeth.” Gianna nudged her with a shoulder to show that Penni and
Grace were coming back. “Lunch is on me for making the effort. I don’t think I can do without my
pasta.”
Ginny shook her head at the offer, seeing the sneaky maneuver Gianna was trying to do to lessen
the load on her non-existent income.
“We’ll discuss it later,” Gianna hedged.
“No, we won’t.” Taking out her badge, she handed it to Penni as she approached the desk.
 “Sorry. I was on the phone with Kaden.” Penni placed the laminated pass in a yellow envelope
that Grace gave her.
Penni scrawled her name on the envelope first, then Grace slid the paper across the desk. “Can
you sign this? It just says that you returned the badge, and you’re no longer employed by
Mouth2Mouth.”
Signing the paper, Ginny was relieved to hear a chipper voice from the hallway break the
awkward silence. “Anyone want to get lunch?”
Laying the pen down and giving the paper to Penni, Ginny turned to see a woman standing in the
doorway.
“I was ready about ten minutes ago,” Penni answered, then turned to Grace. “You can file that in
the cabinet and check Ginny’s name off the list. There are two more to go, and then we can give
them all back to Alec. He’s been calling me for the last week to send them to him.”
“I won’t miss his calls every morning.” Grace went to the file cabinet, using a key attached to a
bracelet on her wrist to open it up, then she locked it back after putting the envelope inside. “As
head of Kaden’s security, I know he takes his job seriously, but you told him that you would have
them to him this Friday.”
“I should have brought mine by sooner.” Ginny was familiar with how OCD Alec was at protecting
Kaden, not only physically but anything that could harm him and his family.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I’m having to wait for Nick and Kimmy to come back from their
parents’ funeral.”
Anguish filled her at the reminder of her coworkers’ losses. The brother and sister traveled with
the band longer than she had and they’d taken her under their wings to show her the ropes. In their
late twenties, they still remained unusually close to their parents. It was a nightly ritual that they
FaceTimed their parents together and discussed their day. Often, they would drag others on the bus
into the conversations. When Penni had told her that their parents had been killed in a freak
accident while they were hiking, Ginny had felt their sudden loss and had reached out to the
siblings to express her sympathy.
Penni was just as saddened. “I didn’t want to pressure them to send the badges back. They get
back tonight and are going to drop them off Friday.” She turned to the woman who’d walked in.
“Sorry, Zoey. I didn’t mean to drag you into my drama with Alec. Let me introduce you. This is
Gianna and Ginny.” The women shared smiles as Penni continued, “Zoey just rented the office
across from us. She’s a life coach and is getting a big following on Instagram. You should check her
out.”
“What do you coach people to do?” Gianna asked.
“Depends on what they want to achieve.”
Ginny didn’t know what a life coach was supposed to look like, but if she did, she would have
imagined someone more exuberant like Gianna or Penni, not the woman who had an almost Zen-like
quality about her. She was dressed in a colorful, airy gauze skirt and a filmy top and made her feel
calm just staring at her.
“She coaches me to live a healthier life. I have to admit to having a caffeine and processed food
addiction.” Giving the coffee machine in the corner of her office a longing look, Penni sat down on
the corner of Grace’s desk.
“She coaches me to deal with Penni,” Grace joked.
“Can you coach me on how to get my boyfriend to propose?”
“I could.” Zoey smiled. “Or I could coach you to propose to him.”
“You’re hired.”
“Good luck getting an appointment.” Grace grabbed her purse off her desk. “So, where are we
eating? Penni’s the only one starved.”
“Gianna and I are going to Harry’s Seafood, if you want to come with us?”
“Sounds good. We could drive in my car,” Penni said. “And I can bring you and Gianna back after
lunch.”
“Is that okay with you, Gianna?” Ginny asked.
“Works for me unless it’s too superstitious for five people to go in one car,” she readily agreed.
The small group filed out of the office, then stopped in the hallway as Grace locked the door
where they eyed Gianna questioningly.
“Ginny was telling me some of the superstitions that Kentuckians believe in,” Gianna explained
as they went to the elevator.
“Not everyone, just a few of the older mountain people.”
Zoey pressed the button. “Like what?”
“For instance, if two women dress a bride, one of the three will die by the end of the year.”
“I’ve never heard that one, and I go to Kentucky regularly,” Penni chimed in. “What’s another
one?”
Ginny had to think for a minute, then came up with one that she hadn’t told Gianna. “If you count
the number of rings of the women you’re with and recite the alphabet, that’s the initial of your
future husband’s name.”
Stepping out of the elevator, the women circled around her to hold their hands out.
 “It won’t work with us; Gianna and I are both unmarried.” Ginny tried to cut between Zoey and
Penni, wishing she had chosen anther one to entertain them.
“Zoey isn’t married either.” Penni took a step sideways, blocking her. “We just count it differently
with each of you.”
Hungry, she knew it was quicker to play along, so she stuck her hands out and showed her
ringless fingers.
“Each of us have to do our own counting. It’s bad luck for Penni or Grace to. If they count, it’s
how many years before they get divorced.” Ginny nodded at the woman across from her. “Gianna,
you go first.”
Her roommate counted the five rings on Penni’s hands. “E so far, right?”
“Yes. Go ahead,” Ginny encouraged her.
Gianna switched her gaze to Grace. She had two on each hand. “I. I guess that leaves Chris in
the dust.” Then she went to Zoey’s hands. “You really like rings, don’t you?” She had stacks of
delicate rings on both hands.
“Yes. I usually don’t wear this many,” she said, wiggling her fingers for Gianna to count. She had
ten on one hand and six on the other.
“Y? I don’t know anyone with a Y name.” Irritated, she looked around at them as if they knew
someone who did.
“Good things come to those who wait.”
“Stuff it, Zoey.”
“It’s my turn.” Zoey turned the topic at Gianna’s burgeoning aggression, sweeping her eyes over
the display of rings. “M.”
“I’d rather have a Mark or a Marcus,” Gianna complained. “Take off some of your rings.”
“You can’t do that; it wouldn’t count.” Dropping her hands, she started walking toward the end of
the row that they were standing on.
“Wait!” Penni called after her. “We didn’t do yours.”
“I counted them. There aren’t twenty-nine letters in the alphabet.”
The women all went to different doors; Ginny took the first at the back, waiting for Penni to press
the unlock button.
“What happens when that happens?” Zoey asked. “Do you just start counting over with the
remaining numbers?”
“No, it means you’ll be an old maid.”
Penni pressed her finger on her key fob. “That’s harsh.”
“Most deeply rooted superstitions are. Back when they originated, life was much harder. It
provided a way to display humor or to explain why bad things were happening.” The older Ginny got
the less credence she gave to the old superstitions that Freddy had teasingly taught her and Leah.
“Truthfully”—Ginny slid into the back seat with Zoey sliding in behind her, as Gianna got in from the
other side and Penni and Grace sat in the front—“I don’t think they considered women wearing so
many rings. Many didn’t have the money for them.”
“It doesn’t matter, anyway.” Zoey patted her thigh. “Superstitions aren’t real.”
Buckling her seatbelt, Gianna made a wry face at Zoey. “That’s easy for a woman who’s going to
marry a Mark to say.”
Zoey buckled her own seatbelt before reaching into her pocket to give Gianna an engraved
business card. “Call me.”
 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- N I N E

“A re you sure your husbands are okay with you being out with me tonight?”
Ginny hid a smile at the determined efforts of the group of friends plainly ignoring Zoey’s
question. The busy nightclub in Queen City was packed, and only Penni would be able to find a table
to fit the large group. Ginny thought it ironic. If she had planned the outing, they would have been
standing outside in the long line of people who were still trying to get in.
“What can I get you ladies to drink?”
“I’ll take a lime daiquiri,” Grace spoke up first.
“A strawberry margarita for me,” Casey ordered next.
“Cranberry juice,” Zoey ordered when the waitress looked at her.
Ginny patiently waited her turn. The women sitting at the table were attracting most of the male
attention in the room. Ginny almost felt sorry for them, knowing that none of the men stood a
chance of scoring with any of them. Grace was married to the president of the Predators, Casey was
married to Max, a soldier of the club, and Penni was married to Jackal, the enforcer. Two other
women sitting with them were Sawyer, Kaden’s wife, and Vida, her married friend. The only three at
the table who were single were Zoey, Gianna, and her. Gianna was waiting for her college boyfriend
to propose, Zoey was a life coach and would more than likely talk them into introducing themselves
to another woman, and with her, they would plain strike out.
“Vida and I will both have amaretto sours,” Sawyer ordered for her and her best friend.
“How about you, Ginny?” Penni prompted.
“I’ll take a diet soda,” she ordered before looking at Penni’s disappointed expression. “The only
reason I’m here and not in bed is because you said I needed to be the designated driver,” she
reminded her. The past three weeks, since their last outing together, hadn’t found her any closer to
finding a job, and she didn’t want to waste any money.
“I told you that to get you out. Girl, that’s what Lyft is for,” Gianna told her, then ordered, “I’ll
take a rum and coke, and bring my girl one too.”
Ginny started to cancel her roommate’s order for her. Rum was her least favorite alcoholic drink.
“I’m not drinking, Ginny. If you want it, go ahead,” Zoey offered, bopping her head to the music.
“Exactly how do you think you can give us rides home on that skateboard?” Penni joked, slapping
her hand on the table and drawing the eyes of the customers at nearby tables. “Don’t worry about
rides home. I’ve got it covered.”
She would stick to her Diet Coke. Ginny had no intention of finding herself on the back of a
Predator’s motorcycle.
“I’m with you with the rum, Gianna, except I’ll take mine in a mojito.” Penni gave her order to
the waitress who was impatiently waiting. “And bring us a platter of the nachos. I’m starving.”
“We ate before we came here,” Zoey reminded her. “And should you be drinking with your heart
condition?”
Penni shrugged. “The burger and fries didn’t fill me up, and if one drink will kill me, I don’t want
to live,” she joked. “Besides, the damage to my heart was only short-term. I’ve had annual checkups
since I had Wylie. I was lucky. Not only did I survive an amniotic fluid embolism when almost
seventy percent of women don’t, but I don’t have any damage, other than memory loss, and Jackal
swears I had that problem before.”
Ginny almost snorted at that. The only time Penni was scatterbrained was when she wanted to do
something that someone else didn’t want her to do.
Once the waitress left, Ginny started listening to the music and watching the couples on the
dance floor as the married women finally answered Zoey’s question about who was babysitting.
Finding out that the husbands had been stuck with the kiddos for angering their wives was
hilarious. What she thought was even funnier was that the life coach was responsible for the
bickering between the husbands and wives.
Zoey found a dog that Ice had talked Grace into giving to another member of the Predators. The
dog got lost and, boys being boys, Ice and Stump lied about it to Grace.
 “I feel terrible that I caused this friction between you and your husbands,” Zoey was saying
contritely.
Ginny only tuned into the last of the conversation when the music ended.
“Get over it.” Penni leaned back to allow the waitress to serve their drinks. “Order something
stronger than cranberry juice; it’ll help.”
Grace helped herself to the nachos. “Look on the bright side. We’re having a girls’ night out and
we’re all here. It’s been a long time since that’s happened.”
Zoey brightened. “That’s true. I haven’t been able to get better acquainted with Ginny since she
moved to town and moved in with Gianna.”
Ginny smiled back at her. “I’m looking forward to it too. I’ve been on the road so much with the
band that I’m still trying to get used to sleeping on a bed that doesn’t move. It’s going to be hard
until I can find another job, but I can understand the band wanting to take a year break.”
“It was either take a break or the kids and I were going on the tour with Kaden.” Sawyer shook
her head when Vida moved the nacho platter toward her.
“I could help. I could put it out to my followers that you’re looking for a job,” Zoey offered.
“That’s okay. I prefer to do it the old-fashioned way and search the job sites.”
“You could apply for Stump’s job at the furniture store. I hear his boss is hiring,” Penni
suggested, motioning to the waitress for a refill.
“Not anymore. I talked to his boss. I stopped there before going back to the office this morning.
He’s going to hire Stump back,” Zoey said happily.
“Do you ever not be nice?”
Ginny almost laughed at Grace’s dry comment.
“It’s good Karma.”
All the women at the table stared at her like she was an alien from outer space as the waitress
brought each of the women a fresh drink.
“The karaoke is getting started. I get busy when it does, so I didn’t want to keep you waiting,”
she explained.
Gianna gave the waitress an extra ten when she paid for the round of drinks. “I like a woman
who is industrious.”
After the waitress left, Gianna brought her fresh drink closer. “I told you there is an opening at
the bank. One of the perks of being the president is hiring.”
Here we go again, Ginny thought. Then she repeated the same thing that she always did, hoping
this time it would stick. “I don’t have any banking experience. The only jobs I’ve ever had are
cooking, waitressing, and cleaning. I’ll find something. Until then, I can use the vacation.”
“The bank would train you ….”
Her roommate couldn’t understand why she wasn’t jumping at the offer, and there was no way
that Ginny was about to tell her that she didn’t want the bank running a background check on her.
Hammer and Will both said that no one could connect her to her past life, but Ginny didn’t want to
take the chance. She would reclaim her old life when she was ready, not before.
“I suck at numbers, and I really like cooking and cleaning.”
“I’m glad that Max didn’t meet you until after he married me,” Casey quipped with a roll of her
eyes. She wasn’t the only one; Ginny rolled her eyes too. Max might be twice the size of Rider, but
both men had a bottomless appetite. She wouldn’t have been able to afford feeding either one of
them, even if she’d been attracted to one of them, which she wasn’t.
The aching loneliness she had felt when she confessed to Trudy that she thought her soul mate
was dead was getting worse. The chat with Gianna and the number of rings count had only
reaffirmed her beliefs, despite telling herself that she was being paranoid. She had even been
forcing herself to look at men more closely in the hope that someone would grab her interest. So far,
the only man whom she had given a second glance to was a shoe salesman, and that was because
she had been trying to get his attention to get her a pair of shoes she wanted to try on.
The table went quiet when a long-haired man jumped onto the small stage and raised a
microphone. “Let’s get this party rolling! Who wants to go first?” he shouted.
Several people in the bar yelled out to get his attention.
Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he pointed at a middle-aged woman in the back of the room.
Ginny yelled encouragement for the woman after people quit listening, drowning her out after she
only sang the first few notes.
“She’s terrible. I’m going to need another drink if the entertainment doesn’t get any better,” Vida
complained, finishing her second drink.
“I think she’s doing a good job considering—”
“That she’s tone deaf,” Sawyer cut Zoey off. “Even the DJ quit hopping.”
“I can sing better than that, and I’m tone deaf.” Gianna took another chip, popping it into her
mouth.
“You’re all being too critical.”
Ginny agreed with Zoey. She didn’t think the woman sounded that bad. It was karaoke. It wasn’t
like they were expecting Ariana Grande to jump up and start singing.
“We’re being nice.” Penni stood up when the woman finished and stepped down from the stage.
“Watch this. I’ll show her how it’s done.”
The DJ didn’t even have enough time to ask who was next before Penni was on stage.
Ginny laid her head down on the table when Penni attempted to sing, smacking the table with
her hand beside her head.
“She’s even worse!” Sawyer howled.
“You girls are being hypercritical because you listen to Mouth2Mouth during rehearsals and
concerts.” Ever-the-happy Zen master, Zoey tried to hush their laughter, seeing they were getting
loud enough that Penni heard them over the music she was trying to sing to.
Ginny raised her head, trying to get control over herself.
“I don’t. She’s just plain bad,” Gianna said, wiping her tears of laughter away with a napkin. “I
don’t have any musical talent, and I can sing better than that.”
“Prove it.”
Gianna’s laughter faded when Penni came up behind her.
“You’re already done?” Gianna blanched at getting caught bad-mouthing Penni’s singing.
“The DJ took the microphone away from me. Put your tonsils where your mouth is.”
“You’re not making any sense. No more drinks for you.” Zoey tried to move Penni’s drink away
from her grasping hand.
“Gianna knows what I mean.”
“You don’t think I won’t?”
Ginny seriously thought about stuffing her napkin in her mouth to keep from laughing. Gianna
hated being provoked; she tried shutting them down every time.
“I know you won’t,” Penni taunted.
“Watch me.” Gianna stood up, throwing Penni a challenging look.
“I won’t have to. I can hear you from here.”
This was why she had dragged herself out of her bed and got dressed. The women reminded her
so much of the friendship Trudy shared with her friends.
“She’s good,” Zoey complimented Gianna.
Ginny rested her hand on her cheek, enjoying listening to Gianna sing.
“She’s okay.” Penni held her hand out to Zoey. “Can I have my drink back if I act like she is?”
“No, you’ve had enough.”
“I thought you hated to use the no word?” Penni told the life coach.
Ginny laughed inwardly while still listening to Gianna. Penni was on a roll tonight.
“I do, but I don’t mind when it’s appropriate.”
Penni turned her attention to the woman next to her. “Sawyer, you should get Kaden to start
going to Zoey. I need a raise, and all he keeps telling me is no.” Now Penni was turning her snark to
her boss who wasn’t there.
Sawyer appeared embarrassed. “I tried, but he says he doesn’t have the time to spare.”
Penni snorted. “She’s being polite. He says the same thing Jackal says—that it’s baloney.”
Ginny understood what Penni was trying to do. She was trying drum up more business for Zoey
by enlisting their wives without them knowing it.
“Penni!”
“It’s okay, Sawyer. A lot of people say that.”
“Not many. How many followers do you have now?” Sawyer asked Zoey, glaring at Penni.
“I’m at fifty thousand.”
“That’s fantastic!” Ginny said enthusiastically. Zoey sincerely tried to help people. She was
becoming popular; it had to be helping her business.
“Who’s next?” The DJ shouted out across the crowded room.
Gianna nudged Ginny. “You go.”
“No way.” She nearly tipped her glass over at the suggestion.
“Come on, you love to sing,” Gianna tried to coax her again. “Hell, you do it when you clean the
apartment. You don’t have any problem singing in front of me then.”
“That’s different. It’s just me and you.”
Ginny thought she would pass out at the suggestion.
“You sing when you cook,” Penni joined in, trying to convince her.
“I do?”
“Yep. Go ahead. Queen City is so big that you’re never going to see these people again anyway.”
“She sings in church, too.” Gianna nudged her again. “You can’t have stage fright with the way
you sing every Sunday.”
“That doesn’t involve a stage, and you’re standing next to me in the pew, singing the same song.”
“If I go up there with you, will you do it?” Gianna didn’t give her time to answer, standing up and
grabbing Ginny’s hand, tugging her toward the stage.
Ginny tried to tug her hand away from her roommate, but Gianna wouldn’t let her go, and with
so many people watching, Ginny didn’t know how to get out of the situation she found herself in.
She finally decided to bolt off the other side of the stage, nearly knocking herself to the floor when a
cord tripped her. Gianna holding her hand prevented her from falling.
“Gianna, she doesn’t want to.” Zoey managed to break Gianna’s grip on her as she turned to
thank the DJ who handed her the microphone.
Ginny found herself in her worst nightmare. The microphone almost hit her on the mouth
because her hand was shaking so badly. The rowdy crowd started yelling at her to sing. Her
roommate started to book it, giving her an apologetic look as she stepped off the stage.
When they got back to their apartment, Ginny promised she would strangle her. She would do it
sooner, but Ginny was pretty sure that, as drunk as the women at the table were getting, she would
be on the back of a motorcycle, cruising alongside them on other bikes.
Mentally, planes had never bothered her after the crash. Riding on motorcycles, on the other
hand, was one thing she didn’t want to experience firsthand. Motorcycles and singing in front of
crowds were her Achilles heel, and before the night was over, Ginny had a feeling that she wouldn’t
escape doing both.
Ginny froze when the DJ started to play Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face,” the lyrics coming up on the
screen to the side. Her mind went back to the last time she sang, when all the attention had been
focused on her. Ginny couldn’t even open her mouth to let a single word out. She wasn’t even aware
of Zoey asking the DJ to switch the music “Million Reasons,” by Lady Gaga.
When the music started playing, it drew her out of the trance she had locked herself into.
Realizing the only way she was going to get off the stage was to give them what they wanted, she
started singing. Doing what she did when she sang in church, she sang low so she was barely heard.
Flashbacks of the day that had irrevocably changed her life streamed through her mind like a flip
book. The book stopping in the middle when Zoey took her hand in hers to sing with her. At Zoey’s
encouraging smile, Ginny relaxed, her voice gradually growing louder, just wanting to finish the
song and get off the stage.
Her eyes swept through the crowd, terrified someone would recognize her voice from when she
sang as a child. It was an unreasonable fear, magnified by the traumatic events of the day that had
scared the child within her, leaving a lasting mark on the adult who had her wanting to run in
terror, just as she had that day when she was three years old.
Scanning the crowd, Ginny didn’t notice that Zoey had stopped singing, nor did she notice the
crowd had gone quiet as she sang until the final note trailed off.
She was snapped back to reality when the entire audience clapped enthusiastically.
“Play another one!” Penni yelled out.
There were people whom she promised she was going to get even with when the audience
started yelling again, stomping their feet. Ginny wanted to fade back into obscurity, and she wasn’t
going to accomplish that goal if she had to spend the rest of the night fielding people in the
audience wanting her to sing more. It would be smarter to give them what they wanted, then they
would move on to someone else.
Nodding her head at Zoey’s questioning look, she wanted to die of embarrassment when she
turned to the DJ, requesting another song. Had Gianna told all the women that she played that song
every time she cleaned? Swearing to herself to tape her mouth shut when she turned on a vacuum
from now on, she let Zoey start singing “Girl on Fire” by Alicia Keys before she jumped in.
Zoey stopped singing when Ginny’s voice radiated her joy, and she let the song take her over. She
didn’t worry about the one in a zillion chance that she would be recognized or the consequences.
The song filled her soul the way it always had since she was a child. The beauty within the words
wound through her, so she could paint a picture with her voice and share with whoever wanted to
listen.
Trudy told her once that her voice was a gift, and she said that the gift was something she should
share. She could use her voice to sing to a child who was sick to make them feel better, or share it
with someone who felt that no one understood them and show them she did. She could give her love
and care to those who felt lost and alone for the few minutes that the song lasted, holding them in
her arms so that at least one person knew someone cared. It was a gift that she had been forced to
hide, like a Christmas present that couldn’t be opened, gathering dust in the back of a closet.
Surely, it would be okay to open a tiny flap and give the once-innocent child she had been the
pleasure of sharing her heartfelt gift again.
The sound of clapping had reality crashing back down on her. Hammer would be furious at her
giving in to Gianna’s request.
Leaving Zoey to accept all the praise, she used the opportunity to escape back to the table.
Gianna took one look at her expression and held her hands up in the air. “I’m sorry.” Then she
ruined her apology by grinning in triumph. “I knew you would do great. I’ve been telling anyone
who would listen that you have a great voice. I told Penni that she’d make more money managing
your singing career than hiring you as a caterer for Mouth2Mouth.”
“She’s right, Ginny. Your voice is fantastic,” Penni joined in cheerfully.
Ginny started shaking at the idea Gianna had planted in Penni’s head. Once she had an idea, it
became a personal project until the result she wanted was achieved. If Penni worked on the space
program, men would be walking on Mars by now. She was that obsessive. She was that dangerous.
Penni had already been pressuring her to talk to Kaden about her songwriting, so Gianna adding
her own opinion on her abilities would only add more fuel to Penni’s goal of her working with the
famous singer.
 “Wow, Ginny, you did great!” Zoey congratulated her, sitting back down.
Ginny grabbed her drink, belatedly regretting not ordering something stronger.
“You’re better than Kaden’s opening act! You should try out. Jesse won’t be coming back for the
next tour,” Kaden’s wife excitedly yelled from the end of the table.
“Sawyer, I’m not a singer. I like to sing to relax or make time go by faster.” Ginny desperately
tried to retape the box closed, but the damn thing kept coming open. “I’ve never had any lessons—”
“Kaden could teach you. He gives lessons when he’s not touring.”
“No.” Forget retaping it; she would monster glue it closed.
“Ginny, don’t be negative to possibilities.”
Ginny knew that look on Penni’s face. She was in trouble.
“I’m not being negative. I’m being realistic. I have no desire to live like Kaden and the rest of the
band.”
“I thought you liked traveling with the band?” Zoey questioned.
“I do, but that doesn’t mean I want to sing.”
“You would make more money to afford the house you want to buy.”
“I can do that when I save enough money doing a job I like to do, which isn’t singing.”
“That’s true.” Zoey nodded. “You have a lovely voice. It takes a lot of self-confidence and self-
esteem for singers to put themselves out there to be open to criticism. Did someone make fun of
your singing?”
Ginny shut down. She had no intention of discussing why she didn’t want to sing.
“I see. Would you stop cooking if I didn’t like your cooking?”
“No,” she answered reluctantly. Zoey was becoming a second to Penni in determination.
“Do you get nervous if Gianna doesn’t like the way you clean the apartment you share?”
“No.” Ginny looked around for the waitress. She needed a stiff drink. The stiffer, the better, one
that was strong enough to drown out Penni and Zoey.
“Because you’re good at it. You have confidence in things you do well. If you took lessons from
Kaden, you may discover you do that just as well and enjoy sharing your gift.” Zoey leaned closer to
her. “I’m not talking about taking a gigantic step and changing your choice of careers but being
comfortable enough that you could join a choir or sing karaoke without someone standing next to
you.”
“I’ll think about it.” Maybe if she just agreed with Zoey, it would take their minds off trying to
convince her. She could always come up with excuses to get out of it later.
Penni gave Zoey a mock salute with her glass. “Damn, Zoey, you’re good. You make me want to
take singing lessons.”
“Please don’t.”
The whole table burst into laughter at Zoey’s remark.
Ginny relaxed in her chair as the women started discussing their children. Looking around the
nightclub, no one was even paying attention to their table, everyone’s attention on a man who had
decided to take a turn singing.
She had dodged a bullet and now debated on whether she should call Hammer. Deciding she was
making a mountain out of a molehill, she laughed at Zoey for giving Gianna a hard time for not
telling her boyfriend she wanted more of a commitment out of him. Sitting there with Penni and her
assortment of friends might not be as much fun as hanging out in a motel room with Trudy and her
friends, but it was pretty damn close.

I nquisitive eyes stared at the table filled with women obviously having a good time, trying to
place a name to the face of the one who just sang. He had the unenviable gift of never forgetting
a face, and the woman’s teased his memory. She wasn’t pretty enough or old enough for her to have
ever caught his attention. He guessed her age to be in her early twenties. By the clothes she wore,
she didn’t mix in the same social circles he did. The only reason he was in the nightclub tonight was
because he was considering a business opportunity. No, he was sure he had never met her before,
yet something about her kept tickling his memory.
Motioning for the waitress, he took out his money clip. “Do me a favor and find out the name of
the woman who just sang.” Laying a hundred down on the table, he returned his attention back to
the woman, before she snatched the money off the table.
It was probably a waste, but he could afford it. He would probably remember before the waitress
came back with the information. He was a self-made man and could credit one characteristic that
had helped him to make his fortune. He never forgot a face.
 CHAPTER FORTY

“D ammit!” Ginny muttered under her breath, gripping her purse in frustration as she took a
seat at the upper part of the tables that had been fitted together to accommodate the large
group. She was going to call Penni and give her a piece of her mind the first opportunity she had,
once she was out of Shade’s and Lily’s hearing.
Ginny was just as frustrated with herself as she was with Penni. The woman was a master
manipulator, unashamedly using Lily and Shade visiting from Treepoint to lure her out of the
apartment. She should have told Lily she wasn’t well, instead of being convinced to go. All those
murder shows she watched were useless if a meddling blonde troublemaker with the personality of
Pandora could stir a hornet’s nest that could potentially hurt not only her, but Trudy.
The table quickly filled as some members of The Last Riders and several of the Predators that
were there with their wives took nearby chairs. Then she was shocked as another familiar face from
Treepoint sat across from Zoey. Ginny didn’t know which surprised her more—that Greer Porter was
there or Zoey was sitting next to Stump, a member of the Predators, whom she had met at Penni’s
baby shower. The same man who was now glaring at Greer for something he was saying.
“God, could you please tell me why I get myself in these situations?” Ginny kept repeating the
question to herself as she changed her order from a soft drink to a fireball when Greer shouted her
name from across the long length of the tables. God didn’t answer, so Ginny answered the question
herself. “Because you’re a sucker!”
When Ginny accepted Lily’s invitation, she told her they were going to a restaurant. It was only
when she was in the car with Shade and Lily that she found out the truth. They were meeting up at
the nightclub until everyone arrived, then going to a restaurant next door.
Arriving at the karaoke bar, she brushed past Shade and Lily to beat them to the seat next to
Penni. Putting her elbow on the table to prop her chin on her palm, Ginny spread her fingers to hide
her anger. “Do not even think about getting me on that stage to sing.”
Penni’s wide-eyed stare fooled her for a second, until she started to take her hand down and saw
Kaden Cross walk in with his wife Sawyer.
Placing a foot over Penni’s, she shifted her weight to press down. “I’m so going to get you back.”
Penni’s eyes went wider. “Ginny … I didn’t … The Crosses are here because—”
“Shove it!” Ginny wasn’t going to listen to any excuses that Penni had devised to excuse her
meddling.
Keeping her foot pressed firmly on Penni’s, she glared at her as she waited for her drink to
arrive. Everyone around them would assume they were engaged in a private conversation, missing
the fact that Ginny was letting her eyes speak for her.
“Uh … can I have my foot back?” Penni tried to break her concentration when her fireball
arrived.
“No.” Ginny raised her glass to her lips, drinking it all in one swallow without removing her eyes
from Penni.
“Just so you know, you’re kind of scary when you get mad.”
“Good.” Raising two fingers in the air with her free hand, she motioned to the waitress that she
wanted another drink.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re opening the floor to the karaoke part of the night. If you’re a
regular here, I’ve been asked to start it off with a woman who sang here before. Ginny, where are
you?”
Ginny slammed her hand down on the table. “How could you do this?”
“I’ll go sing,” Penni offered.
“Don’t do me any more favors,” she fiercely hissed through her tightened lips as she pretended
to press Penni back in her seat with a hand on her shoulder.
Penni’s mouth dropped open as her hand went to the side of her head. “Did you just rip some of
my hair out?”
“I took three.”
 “Why?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I do.” Rubbing the side of her head, Penni tried to snatch the blonde hairs back. She had
enough good sense to be worried.
“Too freaking bad. I didn’t want to sing either. I guess neither of us are going to get their
wishes.”
Placing the three hairs in her purse, she gave it to Lily. “Can you keep an eye on my purse until I
come back?”
Lily placed it on her lap, giving Penni a reproachful glance. “Yes.”
“Ginny, don’t do anything hasty because you’re mad at me. I was only trying to help.”
Standing, Ginny spoke in her friend’s ear, “I can’t hear you because of the noise.”
Penni’s mouth snapped closed.
Rising to frantically scan the room for exits, she spotted one, uncaring of the shouts from the
crowd calling her name. Then Penni caught her wrist just as the DJ called her name again.
“You might not want to sing”—Penni raised her voice, stopping her from escaping out the side
door that she had just spotted—“but the woman who wrote the song I read does. You’re not being
fair to her or yourself. You’re good, Ginny. So damn good it breaks my heart that you’re hiding that
part of you.”
Struggling against Penni’s hold, her arm went limp at her impassioned words that described the
turmoil she felt each time she opened the box in the back of her closet to put another notebook
inside of songs she had written.
Ginny’s face twisted in grief. “I can’t …” It wasn’t fair to sing when so many lives could be
destroyed. Had she sacrificed enough to earn the release of that little girl’s dreams? She couldn’t
explain any of that to Penni nor to the others who wanted her to get on that stage.
“Zoey will sing with you. Just sing one, then come back,” Penni urged.
Zoey’s anxious gaze showed she would.
She started to feel the pressure from the mounting yells and from her table mouthing their
encouragements, except for Kaden and Sawyer who were talking quietly, disregarding the raised
shouts going on around them. She was making a spectacle out of herself by letting the crowd reach
a fever pitch to persuade her and drawing more attention by refusing than she would by giving in to
their demands.
Giving Penni the cold shoulder, she started making her way toward Zoey as the life coach
struggled to get away from Stump’s grip when she wanted to rise from the table. Ginny was relieved
her silent pleas were answered when Stump released her hand. Making their way to the stage, Zoey
took her hand to give her encouragement. Ginny wanted to tell her that she didn’t need it; she
needed a brain transplant.
She should have run when she had gotten out the car and saw where they were, or she should
have gone to the restroom and stayed there until Lily had texted her that they were ready to go to
the restaurant. She hadn’t done either because, deep down, the younger version of herself had been
crying to get out, to share her voice and draw people into her world, making people stop just to
listen. Listen to her.
Using her hand in Zoey’s to force her closer to the microphone, she stood slightly behind her as
DJ started playing “In My Blood.” Letting Zoey start Black Stone Cherry’s famous song, the
beginning of an idea came to her. She could masquerade her voice, sing the notes wrong, and wreck
the lyrics like someone that was tone deaf.
Singing softly, she tried, she really did, for a second, and then she couldn’t bring herself to
disrespect the songwriters. They had poured their heart into the lyrics, and she couldn’t do
anything less than give them her best effort. She could rationale the reasons she was still on the
stage when, truthfully, it was simple: she couldn’t help it any more than she could stop breathing.
She had been created for two purposes: to sing and to be with her soulmate. Her soulmate was
gone, but singing was still there, waiting for her. Turning her back on one would be like turning her
back on the other.
Freddy hadn’t allowed his children to go to church until Saul Cornett had left town. Her father
had been the one to teach his children his beliefs in God. He had taught each of them that they had
a place in God’s heart, and that giving their best would make them stand out in God’s eyes like a
bright star in a sky filled with a zillion others.
As each of the notes in the song played, Zoey pushed her forward. Ginny didn’t resist, letting the
worry, fear, and feelings of regret loosen their bonds on her, allowing her voice to reach its full
volume.
As the song trailed off, the crowd started clapping and stomping for more.
Seeing the list of songs on the overhead monitor, she mouthed the Halsey’s song, “Bad at Love,”
riding the wave of temptation to keep performing and not noticing that Zoey was no longer singing
and had stepped away from the microphone.
When that song ended, the audience went crazy again. The shrill whistles brought her back to
Earth. Grabbing Zoey’s hand, she jumped down from the stage and rushed by the crowd that now
blocked her from reaching their table.
 “More! More!”
Ginny heard the DJ announcing the next person’s name to perform, but the audience wasn’t
listening.
“More!”
Grabbing Zoey’s arm, she steadied her when several people shoved at her, trying to get to Ginny.
Seeing an opening, she tried to push Zoey through so that she wouldn’t get hurt, but Zoey wouldn’t
move. She continued to hold on to her arm, thankful when the club’s security managed to shoulder
their way into the crowd to escort them back to their table.
“How much do you hate me?” Penni whispered to her as she sat back down.
Ginny’s fury had abated while she sang, but she wasn’t about to tell Penni that, not ready to let
Penni off the hook.
“I’ll take my purse. Thank you, Lily.”
“It was my pleasure.” Lily smiled, giving her purse back.
Shade caught her eyes, seeing the tension between her and Penni.
“I took the liberty of ordering you a strawberry daiquiri. I thought it would cool down the two
fireballs.” A waitress leaned over her shoulder to set the drink in front of her.
Ginny sighed. Penni would always be Penni.
“Good choice.” Her good mood restored, she sipped on the drink. Then her mood lightened even
further seeing the couple who entered. Casey and Max, accompanied by Casey’s brother Cole.
You couldn’t look at Cole and be in a bad mood. His sweet nature was that of a child trapped in a
man’s body. Ginny had also met them at Penni’s baby shower, and after Ginny had lost her job with
Mouth2Mouth, Casey would call occasionally and ask if she was available to help out with
housecleaning or babysitting. Ginny had been glad for the extra money, but the more she went to
work, the guiltier she felt taking the money because of Cole. Casey had told her that he had been
brutalized by their stepfather and, as a result, was brain damaged. She had enjoyed watching him.
There was something so special about him that he made you feel good being in the same room with
him.
Ginny greeted them, as Penni stood to go around the table to hug Casey and Cole. When they
moved away from the table, it didn’t click with her that she wasn’t the only life Penni trifled with.
She saw Greer take off like a scalded cat when Penni tried to introduce him to Cole.
Sensitive, Cole started crying at the rejection. Casey then tried to reassure her brother as Zoey
took off after Greer.
Ginny started to get up, but Shade placed a hand on her arm. “Stay.”
Ginny had no intention of obeying Shade’s order until she saw that Greer and Zoey were coming
back to Cole. She was too far away to hear what Greer was saying to him, and their backs were to
them so she couldn’t see what was going on.
When everyone suddenly bowed their heads, Ginny got the impression that Greer was praying for
Cole. Then, as each person at the table stood and linked their hands together, she felt warmth shoot
into her palm as The Last Riders and Predators surrounded the table, joined together to send their
strength and support toward Cole.
Her hand tightened in Shade’s at the immense warmth coming from his hand to hers, and then it
traveled from her to pour into Lily. It was as if the heat were a fuse, trying to imbue enough energy
to ignite a power within Greer to make Cole shine bright enough to catch God’s attention.
When Shade tore his hand away from hers, she realized others were starting to sit back down
while Shade moved toward Greer. Lily and she both sat back down, neither of them discussing what
had just happened as they all reached for their drinks. Even Kaden and Sawyer seemed shaken by
what had occurred.
“Well, that was different,” Sawyer was saying when Zoey came up behind Lily as she was placing
her glass of water down to tell her that Shade was taking Greer back to their hotel room. Ginny
missed the rest of Zoey and Lily’s conversation as Kaden slid a cocktail napkin across the table
toward her.
Picking the napkin up, Ginny raised her eyes to Kaden’s.
“That’s my private number; call me. I have some free time in the next few weeks. I’d like to work
with you.”
Penni slid into the seat that Lily had vacated, for once staying silent and not trying to interfere.
“I just sing for fun. I don’t take it seriously. Thank you, but—”
“You can deny how much singing means to anyone but me, and you may get away with them
believing you. I’ve been where you are and know how much you try to fight against giving in to
singing the more it wants to get out. I stopped singing after my family died in a crash. Even living
on a mountain with no one around, I still sang. You don’t have to use what I can teach you, but at
least you may enjoy listening to yourself better.”
Kaden showing a sense of humor was unexpected, as well as making him more human. On tour,
he had been businesslike and professional. Most of the parties that the other members had
attended, as far as she knew, he hadn’t gone.
The music and songs he wrote drove his fans to keep attending his concerts and buying his
albums. Each year, his success had built until he could pick and choose the venue and the opening
act he wanted.
Ginny didn’t envy his success, nor did she want the same for herself. What she wanted was what
he was offering—his knowledge and ability to turn the words she wrote into lyrics. He would make
her a better songwriter.
Songwriters stayed out of the spotlight. They hid behind their songs and lyrics while artists used
the opportunity to fulfill their need to be in the limelight. Would she prefer to sing her own songs?
Yes, but she would always be fearful of Allerton finding her. Writing songs allowed the only outlet
she gave to herself from her past life, and she didn’t deserve that much. How long was she going to
continue punishing herself?
Opening her purse, she put the napkin inside.
“Does that mean I can have my hair back?”
“No.” Ginny snapped her purse closed before turning to Penni. “Where did Lily go?”
“She went with Shade and Greer to Greer’s hotel room. When he’s settled, they’re going to meet
us at the restaurant. If everyone’s ready, we can go now.” Penni held up the pager with a blinking
light to show their table was available.
Penni reached for her purse that she had laying on the table when Kaden motioned their waitress
for their tab.
“I got it.” Opening her purse once again, she took out a credit card and gave it to the waitress.
“Put the entire table’s tab on my card.”
“I’ll take care of Jackal, Lily, and Shade’s,” Penni protested.
“No, I insist.” Ginny smilingly waved the waitress away with the card.
Penni lowered her voice so the Crosses wouldn’t overhear. “Are you sure? The bill is going to be
huge. Greer ordered everything on the menu before he left, and Moon has been trying to beat him.”
“It’s only money. You can’t take it with you,” Ginny repeated the old adage, taking the bill and the
credit card. Holding the card firmly in one hand, she placed the bill and ink pen on the table in front
of Penni.
Penni’s eyes narrowed at the name printed at the receipt. “That’s my card!”
“Yes, it is. Go ahead and sign. We don’t want to lose our table, do we? And make sure you give
her a generous tip. Greer ran the poor woman back and forth at least a dozen times.”
Penni filled in the receipt, giving the waitress a decent tip before signing her name. Giving the
original one back to the waitress, she kept the copy. “Can I have my card back?”
“No, you’re buying dinner.” The card went back in Ginny’s purse. “If the food is as good as you
always say it is, then you can have your hair back.”
Penni reached out, catching Greer’s sister’s, Rachel’s arm as she and her husband went past
their chairs. “Rachel, have you ever heard of a superstition that it takes three hairs?”
Paling, Rachel gave her a wary glance. “Are you trying to jinx me?” Moving her hand away from
Penni’s, she took Cash’s arm, rushing away and giving Penni a glance like she was afraid that Penni
would do something behind her back.
“I’ll pay for dinner.”
Ginny gave her the first smile that evening since she had realized what Penni had done. “Don’t
be too upset. At least Greer won’t be there.”

R achel and Ginny were trying to hide their laughter from Penni, who made sure she was sitting
at the farthest chair from hers.
Rachel used a corner of her napkin to wipe her tears away. “I can’t believe you actually pulled
her hair.”
“I was slightly irritated with her,” Ginny confessed.
“Remind me never to get you angry at me,” Rachel said as Shade and Lily took the empty seats
next to her.
Once they ordered, Ginny asked how Greer was doing.
“Greer’s fine. Rachel, search the website for what’s on the menu. He’s going to text you what he
picks. He wants you to take it to him when you’re finished eating.”
Ginny saw the same expression on Shade’s face that had been on Penni’s.
“Make sure you give me the bill. Penni’s paying. She wants to make sure everyone has a good
time.”
Shade’s lips twitched. “She does, or you do?”
“To tell the truth,” she whispered conspiratorially, “it’s payback for getting me on that stage.”
“You know, I’m good with that. I’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”
“Try the shrimp cocktail. It’s fantastic.”
The conversation around the table turned toward Treepoint as their food arrived. No one
discussed what had happened at the bar with Greer and Cole. Ginny thought more had gone on than
praying, but she didn’t want to pry, having her own share of secrets without sticking her nose into
other people’s business. She just hoped that what had really taken place tonight had worked and
that Greer hadn’t hurt himself.
Zoey kept saying she had felt blessed. She wasn’t the only one. She had felt it, too.
Lily and she spent time talking about Treepoint and how everyone in the club was doing since
she left.
“I’m happy to hear that Viper’s brother is staying at the club,” Ginny said, buttering a roll. “Willa
told me he was found. He didn’t want to come to Queen City with the other Last Riders?”
“Shade and I both tried to get him to”—Lily leaned into her husband’s side when he placed an
arm over her shoulders—“but he preferred to stay home.”
T.A. had told her a few details of what he had gone through, including Gavin’s ex-fiancée coming
to the rehab center. She felt terrible for the pain he had suffered for so long, only to find out the
woman he loved was married and expecting another man’s child.
“I look forward to meeting him the next time I’m in town.”
After dinner, Ginny hugged Rachel and Lily then told Shade good-bye, staying a safe distance
away from him. She then said good-bye to the rest of the group and was hugging Sawyer when, out
of the corner of her eye, she noticed Shade disconcertingly watching her, probably noticing she
maintained her distance from all the men. Ginny brushed it off, though. Shade may be curious about
her, but he would never ask. That was the best part about Shade—he was a man of few words. She
wished that was a trait his sister shared.
Deep down, they were sensing something was off with her. Every time she caught the brother’s
and sister’s gazes on her, it made her nervous. If anyone could figure out the secret relationship
between her and T.A., it would be one of them.
Outside the restaurant, Ginny gave Penni her card back.
“The hairs,” Penni reminded her.
Opening her purse, she gave her hair back.
“Exactly what were you going to do with them?”
“Bury them at midnight when it’s raining. It brings bad luck for a year.”
“Are you still mad at me?” Penni warily moved an arm distance away from her.
“No, I got over it when Shade told me Greer’s to-go order. He ordered three shrimp cocktails and
the surf and turf platter.” Ginny raised her hand with the take-out bag to wave at Zoey and Stump
as they left in her tiny car.
“Did Rachel forget Greer’s to-go order?”
“No, it’s my lunch for tomorrow.”

D reading going home and into her bedroom, she knew what she needed to do—what she should
have done the last time, if just to reassure herself that she wasn’t overreacting. Reaching for
her purse, she took out a different cell phone than she normally used. Pressing one of the three
numbers already keyed in, she waited for the call to be answered. It took two rings.
“What’s wrong? It’s been a while since you’ve called me.”
She hadn’t called him since the day she left Treepoint.
“I think I did something stupid twice, and I want you to tell me it’s all right and I’m
overreacting.”
“What did you do?” His voice wasn’t starting out reassuring.
Sitting up in bed, she told him about getting up to sing twice at the bar. “I should have pretended
to pass out or something … shouldn’t I?”
There was complete silence on the other end.
“I mean, I don’t look anything like I did back then. I was child! Even my voice has changed …
Hammer, are you still there?” A tear slid out of the corner of her eye as she waited for him to
answer.
“How full was the bar?”
“I don’t know, maybe sixty or seventy people.”
“Each time?”
Ginny raised trembling fingers to wipe the tear away. “More the first time.”
“How many more?”
“I don’t know. Maybe forty or fifty more.” Ginny bit her lip, not wanting Hammer to hear the
wobble in her voice.
“What age range would you say were in the crowd?”
“Mostly twenty- or thirty-somethings.”
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you. You know you fucked up. You don’t need me to tell
you that.”
She did. She had known it was a dangerous risk that she should have run from.
“I miss it, Hammer.”
“What do you want from me? You want me to give you permission to sing? You’re a grown woman
now. The ball is in your court. You have to figure out how you want to play it or let it go forever. I’ve
always let that be your decision. I won’t try to influence you one way or another. You’re the one who
has to pay the price for what you took, so you should be the one who decides to use it.”
“I don’t have it—”
“Ginny … you might not have it in your possession, but you know where you hid it.”
“No, I don’t—”
“Then, if you don’t, I’d start trying harder to remember. Either that or don’t sing in public
anymore.”
“Kaden Cross offered to give me singing lessons,” she admitted. “It’s been so long that I don’t
think I’d be recognized.” She tried to give herself the reassurance that Hammer wouldn’t.
“Kid, you’ve always known your own mind. If you believe that no one will recognize you, then we
just have to wait and see, won’t we? If it’s only singing lessons, what harm could it do?”
“I know, right? Thanks, Hammer. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”
“Ginny?”
“Yes?”
“Be careful. Anything, and I mean anything, makes you feel as if anyone is watching you, call me.
If anything happens to me, Jonas or Killyama will contact you. You still remember where the safe
house is, right?”
“Yes.”
For a brief, infinitesimal moment, she had forgotten about the other lives who could be in danger.
“Never mind. I won’t do it.”
“What would T.A. tell you to do?”
“Take the fucking lessons.” She laughed.
“Then take the fucking lessons.”
Still filled with uncertainty after ending the call, Ginny scooted off the bed after ending the call,
about to go into her bathroom and take a shower, when a piece of paper fell to the floor as she
stood. Curious, Ginny bent down to pick it up, recognizing the paper from a notepad in Gianna’s
bedroom. Gianna must have written her the message after Ginny had gone out to meet Lily and
Shade. Gianna hadn’t been in the apartment when she left, going out with her boyfriend to get last-
minute supplies. They had several people over tonight, including her boyfriend, celebrating his
birthday. It must not have been important, or she would have mentioned it when she was at her
door.
Her blood ran cold as she read the message. Gianna hadn’t been the one who left the note.
I can’t wait for the day you sing only for me, Nightingale.
What the hell? What did it mean? Had one of Gianna’s friends just been joking around and placed
the note in her room?
Checking outside of her room, she then checked the rest of the apartment, making sure
everything was securely locked. She was glad that Gianna’s boyfriend had stayed the night with her,
feeling safer with more people in the apartment. By the time she was back in her bedroom and had
taken a shower, she convinced herself that it was just a prank one of the partygoers had pulled.
Placing the note in her nightstand, she turned down her blanket and lay down. Running her hand
underneath her pillow, she felt the comforting feel of cold steel under her fingertips before she
turned the light off.
She was sure it was a prank, but if it wasn’t, this nightingale was armed.

G inny was eating toast when Gianna and her boyfriend came into the kitchen the next morning.
“Rough night, Chris?” Ginny asked when he put a hand to his stomach after seeing what she
was eating.
“Might have eaten a couple of slices of cake too many,” he admitted. The poor guy looked so sick,
he was green.
Gianna didn’t spare him a sympathetic glance as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot
Ginny made when she got up. “It wasn’t cake that had you puking your guts out in my bathroom; it
was all the beer you drank.”
“I told you I was sorry. Don’t you love me anymore? I love you. You’re the light of—”
“Can it. I have to go to work.” Gianna’s face was breaking into a smile, despite pretending to still
be mad at him.
Ginny could understand why. Chris looked exactly what he was—a nerd who spent most of his
time in a lab. He looked like he was eighteen or nineteen when, in reality, he was twenty-nine. His
thick, black glasses took up most of his face, and from being inside all the time, his skin was pasty-
white. Ginny hadn’t understood Gianna’s attraction to him until she got to know him better and saw
that he catered to her like she was the most important person in his life. It would be hard to resist
that.
Ginny hid her grin as she put her coffee cup up while Gianna went behind where Chris was
sitting on the stool to rub his back.
 “I have to go,” Gianna said, giving Chris an air kiss.
“Gianna, I don’t want to make you late,” Ginny stopped her before she could make a move to
leave, “but I found a strange note on my bed last night. Did you see anyone go in my room?”
Gianna and Chris both frowned.
“No. In fact, I made sure that no one went in there. Chris and I both made it plain that your room
was off limits. What did the note say?”
Ginny told them, and both of them stared at her as if she had grown two heads.
“What does that mean?” Chris asked.
“Ginny sings,” Gianna told him.
“Oh … I heard you mentioning that to a couple of people last night when they asked where she
was.”
Ginny narrowed her gaze on her. “So, you knew what Penni had planned?”
“No!” Gianna vigorously shook her head. “Nooo!”
Ginny threateningly closed her eyes to thin slits.
“Okay, I might have,” she conceded, then stared at her pretend watch. “Look at the time. I’m
going to be late. I wouldn’t worry about it. Probably one of Chris’s lame friends trying to be cute.”
Chris’s shoulders went back. “Why does it have to be one of my friends that did it?”
“Because my friends aren’t lame.”
Ginny laughed as her roommate escaped being drawn into an argument with Chris about his
friends.
Chris’s face grew serious after Gianna left. “I’m sorry if one of my friends wrote the note. Don’t
tell her I said so, but they are lame and several of us were pretty wasted last night.”
“It’s fine. It was just a joke. I hope none of your friends drove home last night?”
Chris and most of his friends lived about forty-five minutes away.
“They stayed at a hotel. I’m meeting them for lunch. You want to join us?”
“No, thanks. I have plans this afternoon,” Ginny said, getting up from her stool. “You mind asking
them if any of them left the note?”
“Sure thing. I’ll text you on my way home.”
“I’d appreciate it.” Ginny went to a kitchen drawer to open it and take out a box. She set it on the
counter in front of Chris, who looked at it in surprise. “Happy birthday!”
“You shouldn’t have!” Grinning like a kid, he opened it, then took out a gift card, a beach towel,
and sun lotion. “You gave me a gift card to Tidal Wave City?”
“I need to tell you something as a friend.”
Chris held his presents as if he had never seen any of them before.
“Dude, you need to get some sun.”

G inny had just sat down with Lily after working with Kaden in his home studio when Chris’s text
came.
“Is something wrong?” Lily asked, snuggling next to Shade as he sat down beside her on the
couch.
“No.” Ginny didn’t want to mention the note to Lily or Shade. “I thought Rachel, Cash, and Greer
were supposed to be here tonight?”
“They’re under the weather tonight; that’s why we decided to stay longer, so that we can travel
back together.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Ginny had noticed that Greer looked ill soon after they had prayed for
Cole.
Ginny asked Lily if she had any pictures of Beth’s children. All the children of The Last Riders
would come to the club occasionally for breakfast or lunch with their parents.
Asking her youngest son to hand her the cell phone, Clint climbed onto her lap to watch his
mother as she showed the pictures to Ginny.
“These are from the haunted house that Stud and Sex Piston turned their house into and invited
all of us. The Last Riders and Destructors all pitched in to make it a party that none of the kids
would ever forget. They even made Stud’s man cave in the basement into a graveyard.”
As Lily talked, she swiped the screen with her thumb, showing the pictures of the haunted house
they had created.
“How many of the children had nightmares?” Ginny wouldn’t have gone down to that basement
with the lights on, much less with the dim lighting that was captured in the pictures.
“Here’s the one I wanted to show you with Chance and Noah.”
Taking the phone, Ginny laughed. “They were Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?”
“Let me see?” Clint popped his head up from Lily’s shoulder.
About to hand him the phone, Ginny took another glance and chills went up her arms.
In the picture, there was a mirror hanging on a partial wall at the staircase. Ginny thought she
could make out a shadowy reflection in the mirror. You couldn’t get a clear image of his features;
they seemed distorted, as if the mirror had been cracked. From the dark lighting in the picture, you
couldn’t even make out his hair color.
Frissons of fear and excitement had her raising the phone from Clint’s clutching hand to show
Lily the picture. “Who’s the man in the mirror?”
Lily looked at her phone then frowned. “I don’t see anyone.” Placing it in Shade’s view, she asked
him.
Shade looked at the phone intently then at her. “I don’t see anyone either.”
“May I see it again?”
Lily lifted the phone over Clint’s head to give it back.
Glancing at the mirror again, she had to close and open her eyes several times before she
admitted to herself that she must have been mistaken. The mirror was empty.
“It must have been a trick of the light.” Making light of what she was almost positive of seeing,
she gave the phone to Clint. “The boys are too cute. May I have a copy?”
“I’ll text it to you.” Lily reached to take the phone from Clint, but the boy resisted.
“You can wait until later. Don’t upset him. He looks like he’s ready for bed.”
“He missed his nap today.”
“I better be going and let you put the boys to sleep. I hope I get to see you again before you
leave.” Ginny smoothed Clint’s hair down. His face was pressed against his mama’s shoulder. “He’s
beautiful, Lily. Both of your boys are,” she said as Shade stood and took John’s hand.
Giving Lily a hug without disturbing Clint, Ginny wished them all goodnight.
It was only when she was in her car on her way home that her mind went back to the text from
Chris. The same sense of dread filled her as when she had read it. He texted that none of his friends
admitted to leaving the note. That left two options. Either one of Gianna’s friends had done it, or …
she was in serious trouble.
 C H A P T E R F O R T Y- O N E

S he was in deep, deep, trouble.

“Do you have any idea who it could it be?”
Ginny sat on the couch in her living room, with Shade standing across the room from her. She
was still trying to process what he had told her about what happened to Zoey last night at the
nursing home where she worked at caring for an elderly patient. Zoey had fallen asleep, and when
she had awoken, a man had tried to kill her and succeeded in killing the patient. Now she had been
awoken from a deep sleep to find Shade knocking on her door and trying to wrap her brain around
the fact that Zoey had almost been killed because of her.
“No,” she half-lied. She really didn’t think Allerton was responsible for attacking Zoey or the
patient. She still thought he believed she was dead. Besides that, if he did know she was alive, he
would have been able to get to her without involving Zoey. Gianna would have been the more
obvious target in that case.
“He tried to kill Zoey because she sang with me at the bar?”
“Yes.”
“I found a note in my bedroom after Gianna had a party for her boyfriend. I thought it was a joke,
yet none of their friends admitted writing it.”
“Do you still have it?”
“I’ll get it.” Ginny rose from the couch, brushing her hair from her face with a trembling hand.
“Do you mind if I take time to get dressed?”
“Go ahead.”
She felt like she was in the middle of a nightmare. Ginny didn’t question why Shade had been the
one sent to talk to her. She had known since she found out that Pastor Dean was Lucky that she was
under the protection of The Last Riders. Her working for the club and Viper feeling responsible for
her house burning down had only reinforced the connection. With Shade still being in Queen City,
Stump probably gave Shade the job of telling her that she had a stalker. Trudy and her friends had
schooled her with how motorcycle clubs protected their own, well before she had gone to work for
The Last Riders. They would take it as a personal affront that someone would harm someone they
considered under their protection.
Throwing on a pair of jeans and a loose blouse, she then went to the nightstand and took the note
out. Going back in the living room, Shade was in the kitchen, making coffee for them. Feeling as if
her legs were going to give out, she sat down on one of the stools, sliding the note toward Shade.
Setting a cup down in front of her, he lifted his own to his mouth as he read the note.
“Do you mind if I keep it?”
“Go ahead.”
“Has anyone called you Nightingale before?”
“No, never.”
“The police want you to come in. Zoey is working with a sketch artist. They want to see if you
recognize the person in the sketch. They’ll also take a report about you receiving the note.”
The nightmare was worsening.
“I need to make a phone call first.” She desperately needed to talk to Hammer. Would the police
dig into her background if she reported the incident? Zoey had been hurt, nearly killed, and another
woman had been killed. She couldn’t put her own safety first. She just wanted to warn Hammer to
protect himself and Trudy.
“Who do you need to call?”
“Willa.” Ginny had to think fast with Shade’s blue eyes drilling holes into her, watching her
reaction. “I just want to tell her about the note and what’s going on before she finds out from
anyone else.”
“I see.”
Feeling nervous, Ginny saw him set his cup down before he placed both of his palms on the
counter. “There’s one thing I found interesting about you.”
 She really didn’t want to know what it was, but she could tell from his expression that he
expected her to ask.
“What?”
“Nothing scares you.”
“Obviously, you don’t remember the night my house burnt down.”
“I do, actually. You were heartbroken but not frightened. That’s not all I’ve noticed. You’re not
intimidated easily. You worked at the clubhouse as if you were dealing with the boys next door, not
hard-core bikers. You didn’t back down from Viper when he tried to convince you to stay at the club.
When you left to move to Queen City, you didn’t do it because of the club. I don’t know why you did
it, but it wasn’t because you were afraid. Even with Kaden Cross, who Lily gets tongue-tied around,
you treat him just like anyone else.”
“What are you getting out at?”
“What I’m getting at is: Why aren’t you?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s just in my personality. I was raised with the Coleman brothers.”
“That could be it,” he agreed.
Shade might be agreeing with her, but Ginny didn’t believe it.
“Whatever the reason, all the club wants you to know is that The Last Riders have your back. You
only came into contact with who’s stalking you because you moved to Queen City after you lost your
house because of us. Viper wants you to come back and stay at the club until we find out who it is.”
“I won’t.”
“Why not? You don’t have a job, you don’t have a home, and you have more people who care
about you in Treepoint than you do here. What’s to keep you here? The man who wrote this note
isn’t going to stop. He’s attacked Zoey twice and not only killed Zoey’s patient but the security
guard.”
The blood drained out her face. “Zoey’s been attacked twice? And you didn’t tell me the security
guard was dead.”
“Zoey’s fall down the steps wasn’t an accident, nor was the fire alarm being pulled to draw her
out of her office. Whoever it is wants you to take center stage without Zoey’s help. She pulls him out
the fantasy that you’re only singing to him. Stump texted me when you were getting dressed that
the guard died. Come back to Treepoint with us.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Whoever it is, he is willing to try to kill Zoey and two other people. What do you think he would
do if I go to stay in a place he can’t get to me?”
Shade didn’t answer her question. He didn’t have to. They both knew the answer to the question.
“There aren’t any children who live in the club, but it wouldn’t take much to find out about the
houses surrounding the club. All of you, your wives, the children would be in danger because of me.
I’d rather open my front door and let him take me before I’d let him hurt someone else. After I leave
the police station, I’ll pack a few things and disappear. I can’t stay here.”
“There could be another option,” Shade suggested.
“I’m open to anything.”
“Kaden is having a concert tonight. You could perform with him. It could draw him out. The Last
Riders are here, and those who aren’t are flying in in a couple of hours. We would be in the
audience and keep both of you and Kaden covered. Not only that, but Kaden has a security team
already in place.”
It just became worse.
“Kaden has huge crowds that attend his concerts. I can’t.”
If she performed in front of that many people, it would increase the chances of her being
recognized from when she was a child. She wouldn’t be performing in front of eighty or ninety
people; she would be performing in front of thousands.
“Penni said you suffer from stage fright.”
“Yes.” Ginny moved away from the counter, unable to bear him studying her any longer. Wiping
the palm of her hands on her jeans, she went to stare out her window. Was he watching her now?
“It’s one of the few things I am frightened off,” she said, turning around to face him.
“Bad enough of a fear to keep us from trying to catch the person responsible for trying to kill
Zoey?”
Ginny turned to look out the window again. She really didn’t have a choice. She told Shade that
she would rather open her front door than let anyone else get hurt. However, if she sang with
Kaden, she would be flinging her door open for Allerton.
Ginny raised a hand to the glass window. She was so tired of looking out, keeping a part of
herself separated from everyone, hiding Evangeline in that damn box.
What if no one recognized her? She could live a normal life. The Last Riders and Kaden’s security
team would think they were protecting her from the stalker, but they would be unknowingly
protecting her from a more formidable adversary.
“One of The Last Riders or one of the security guards could be hurt.”
The thought of anyone being hurt because of her was unacceptable. Hammer would tell her not
to do it, and then outline all the reasons but ultimately, he would tell her the decision was hers.
Shade came to the window to stand by her. “Kaden’s security team is aware of the risk.” Shade
leaned on the wall beside the window. “There isn’t a day that a Last Rider gets on his bike not
knowing it could be the last. We’re good to go with whatever shit goes down,” he said cryptically.
“The big question is: Are you?”
With her still hand on the window, Ginny slid her fingers inwardly until her hand was clenched in
a fist. “Yes, let’s do it.”

G inny came out to stand behind the curtain next to Zoey to watch Kaden perform on stage. She
tried to blot out the thousands of people in the audience in front of him.
“It’s not too late, Ginny. You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do. I’m not going to run. I’m not afraid.” She resolved herself to the idea of singing with
Kaden. It was too late to back out. She couldn’t, even if she wanted to.
“Why did you agree to take lessons with Kaden?”
“Because of something you said.”
“Because of something I said?”
“You asked me, if you didn’t like my cooking, would I keep doing it.”
“You said yes.”
Ginny nodded. “That’s why. I love singing just as much as cooking. The only way to overcome
singing in public is to get better at it.” She had given up singing because it resulted in Manny’s
death. Afraid of someone recognizing her, she saw no reason to override the guilt she had lived with
when he was murdered. Yet, it had been so long ago that the chances of her being recognized were
miniscule. What counted and hurt her the most was Manny’s death, and her not singing wasn’t
going to bring him back, just like wishing that she hadn’t given Leah her turn wasn’t going to bring
her back.
Hammer was right; she was a grown woman, and the thing about being an adult was you had to
accept the frailty of human life, and the pain of losing someone you love went hand in hand. She
hadn’t put the gun in Allerton’s hand, and she hadn’t been the one driving the motorcycle.
“Like cooking lessons.” Zoey nodded.
“Willa taught me how to love cooking. I hoped Kaden could teach me the same thing about
music.”
“Did he?”
“We’re about to find out,” Ginny said starkly, her face pinched in fear. “I signed a contract that
I’ll open twelve shows for him. When I’m done, I’ll have enough to go home and buy a house. I’ll be
able to pay cash for it, and it’ll be mine. I wish you could come with me. Even with the lessons
Kaden gave me and him singing the duet with me, it would be easier with you there.”
By the time her new contract with Kaden’s band finished, her stalker would have hopefully
moved on, if he wasn’t caught before then. Plus, it gave Allerton the chance to take her out if
someone recognized her. She would be exposing herself, but at least Hammer, Trudy, and all her
friends would be safe. It would also give her the time to decide what her next move would be.
Hammer had said the ball was in her court, and it was time to figure how she wanted to play.
Zoey hugged her close. “You don’t need me to sing with you to give you courage. I know what it’s
like to want your own home. I found mine, but it wasn’t a house; it was a person. You’ll find yours,
too.”
The song that Kaden was singing ended, sending applause roaring through the audience.
“I guess this is it, then. There is no going back.” Ginny stepped closer to the edge of the curtain
as Kaden lifted a hand in the air to quiet the audience. Her heart felt as if it were beating out of her
chest.
Ginny turned to look over her shoulder, when Zoey softly called her name at the same time that
Kaden started introducing her to sing the duet with him.
“Ginny, you have always been a star. You just let clouds keep you from shining brightly. I found
my way home from a map; you never needed one. You know exactly where you want to be. Make it
happen!”
Ginny nodded. Zoey was right. She knew she wanted to be in Treepoint with Trudy, and if she
wanted it to happen, this was a step she was going to have to take.
She straightened her shoulders before she walked out into the lights shining down on the stage.
Her image joined Kaden’s on the huge screens, so that the audience could get a closer view of
what was happening on the stage. Sawyer had helped her pick out the midnight blue jumpsuit that
left her shoulders bare. The material concealed her breasts before flaring out in loose, flowing
pants. She had also been talked into getting her hair cut into a bob. Everything about her had gone
through a transformation on the outside, while inside she was still the three-year-old little girl who
just wanted everyone to hear her sing.
Raising her hand in the air, she waved at the audience as she walked to stand behind the
microphone next to Kaden’s.
As she took her place, Kaden began to sing as Ginny stared out at the crowd watching her. She
wasn’t having to stand on the sidelines and watch someone else do what she wanted. For the first
time, she was right where she wanted to be.
 C H A P T E R F O R T Y- T W O
G I N N Y 2 3 / G AV I N 3 6

“A re you going to hide in the kitchen during the whole reception?”

Ginny picked up a hand towel to dry her hands as Trudy came into the kitchen, glaring at
her with her hands on her hips. “I was just finishing plating the rest of the appetizers.” Laying the
towel down, Ginny fiddled with the tray, waiting for her sister to leave. When she didn’t, Ginny tried
to hurry her along.
“You should go before someone comes in.”
“I don’t care.” Trudy moved away from the door to come from around the counter to take her
shoulders, forcing her to face her. “What’s wrong?”
“No matter what happens now, it’s never going to be just me and you again, is it?”
Trudy’s face softened. “No. I love you, but I love Dalton, too.”
“I know.” Ginny wiped her tears away. “I know I’m being silly. Ignore me.” Reaching up, she
pulled her sister’s hands down to take them in hers. “You look beautiful.”
Trudy’s face broke in a breathtaking smile. “You tell me that every time you see me.”
“Because it’s true. Dalton is a very lucky man.”
“I don’t think he would agree with you. I think he believes I’m trying to kill him with sex.” Trudy
giggled.
“Are you?” She giggled back.
“No, I just like making him think so.” Laughing, Trudy reached out to hold her close. Growing
serious, she pressed against her. “I wanted this house because it’s big enough for all of us. We’re
still going to be a family; it just won’t be a family of two.”
Ginny started to nod but stopped. “You’re going to ruin your makeup.”
Trudy instantly pulled away to fluff her hair and smooth her dress, making sure she was still
picture-perfect. “I’m not the only one who looks beautiful today.”
While Ginny knew that Trudy was exaggerating, she was pleased with the way she looked. She
was just in a plain, navy sheath dress with a small jacket. She had managed to maneuver herself
into several of the pictures of Trudy and she planned to get a few copies for herself.
“Where’s Dalton?”
“Around,” Trudy said absently.
“What are you up to?” Ginny asked her sister, not liking the look in her eye.
“He’s upstairs with Shade, getting our suitcases. Lily wanted the chance to sneak out to get his
Valentine’s Day present ready.”
“How’s he getting home? He and Lily came together.”
“I’m sure he’ll figure it out,” Trudy said carelessly.
Both women turned nervously, then relaxed when Killyama came into the kitchen. “The band is
looking for Ginny. They’re getting ready to start the music.”
“I’ll take these platters then—”
“Bitch, go. I’ll put them on the table.” Killyama took them from her.
“Thanks.” Ginny started laughing when Trudy started to follow her, only to have Killyama thrust
one of the trays in her hand.
Seeing Trudy alone for those few minutes helped ease the sadness that had hung in the air all
day. Weddings always made her sad. It was hard for her to celebrate them when she knew she
would never have one.
Skirting around the crowd, Ginny managed to work her way out to the backyard. It was
beautifully decorated. Small tables were set up around the pool with red tablecloths and vases filled
with white roses on top. It was cool today, so she was comfortable with the small jacket she wore.
The members of the band gave her nods that they were ready. As she moved to stand behind the
microphone, the familiar music began to play from the speakers.
“I’m searching for you …,” she sang out, scanning over the crowd, watching the back door for
Trudy and Dalton to come out. She might not be able to give them a toast like a family member
could, but she could sing for them. She had written one for them, and when they were both outside,
the band would play it next.
“Calling for you …”
The song she had written for Trudy and Dalton was a celebration of their love. The song she was
singing now, she had written about her own heartache for a soul mate, who she knew was no longer
there, that for whatever reason, life had snatched him away from her, had never given them the
opportunity to touch. She had written the song, hoping that she was wrong and that he really was
out there, thinking the same thing, waiting for her, waiting for her song to lead the way to her.
“Hoping for you, praying for you …”
Her eyes moved over the familiar faces in the crowd, drawing them in with her heartache to
lighten the sorrow that was growing like an ink stain on her heart.
Her eyes went to the door to see a man walk out; his eyes met hers.
He wasn’t dressed like the other men at the wedding, wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt.
Even under the dark color, his massive shoulders and chest strained the material, showing the
immense size and strength contained within his body. She didn’t notice the numerous tattoos that
covered his hands, arms, neck, and traveled up the side of his face to where he had shaved his head
to show the tattoos there. Her eyes were lost in his … clinging to his, as he moved around the pool.
“Can you hear me?” she sang out to the crowd while silently begging him … only him.
Her voice broke, afraid he didn’t know the song was meant for him. “Oh ….”
Ginny closed her eyes, terrified he couldn’t see she was meant for him.
A brush of wind had her opening her eyes again as he moved around a woman to face her across
the expanse of the pool.
“Why can’t you hear me?”
Taking the microphone off the stand, she took a small step forward. Looking down to make sure
she didn’t fall into the pool, their reflections swirled from the increased wind picking up speed,
merging their reflections so they were dancing … touching … kissing ….

R eaper pulled his phone out from his jeans pocket after he felt the ding of the vibration.
Need a ride.
He quickly typed his answer.
Ask someone else.
He went back to looking over Ink’s past records that Jonas had managed to score for him. His
brief text hadn’t worked when the next ding came in, breaking his concentration.
Come and get me from the reception.
I can see where you are. Give me five, Reaper sarcastically texted back before getting up
from his desk, taking his cell phone.
Why in the fuck did Shade need a ride? He had taken his own vehicle with Lily. Not only that, but
most of the club was at T.A. and Dalton’s wedding.
Taking the spare keys off the wall for Train’s truck, he went out the door and headed into town.
Fuck. The brother couldn’t have waited outside for him?
Reaper found a parking space, getting a dirty look from T.A.’s nosy-ass neighbors who were
sitting outside in lawn chairs. He glowered back until the fuckers decided it was more advantageous
to get their asses in gear to go back inside.
He saw Shade talking to Dalton on the stairs when he came in the door, forced to wait at the
bottom of steps. He hadn’t bothered to close the door, expecting to go right back outside.
“I’ll be right back,” Shade said as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
“I don’t have all day,” he ground out.
Waiting for his return, all he wanted was to get the fuck out of there. The last place he wanted to
be at was a fucking wedding. It was as if God were rubbing His heel in the crushed dreams that he
had planned for him and Taylor. That most of The Last Riders were there to celebrate just added salt
to the wound.
He didn’t begrudge T.A. and Dalton their day; he just didn’t want his nose rubbed into what
would never be for him.
Fed up with Shade, Reaper couldn’t take it any longer and was about to go back outside when
the wind swept the door closed. He was reaching for the doorknob when a voice came over a
loudspeaker from outside.
“I’m searching for you…”
Every fucking hair stood on end on his body. It was the same experience he felt on a beach so
many years ago, filling him with despair.
“Calling for you …”
The tenderness in her voice had his feet blindly walking to the backyard door.
“Hoping for you, praying for you …”
 It was as if she held a power over him, putting him in a trance, as he moved through the crowd,
all by hearing her sing.
“Can you hear me?”
The pounding of his heart clung to her every word, like an instrument being played in the
background.
Right before he moved the last person out of the way, the pure rawness in her voice struck him
with a powerful force as he heard her voice slightly break, as if it was her heart breaking instead.
“Oh …” the woman cried before she broke off, opening her eyes. “Why can’t you hear me?”
Their eyes locked immediately, and his heart seized into a fist when he was finally able to see the
woman clearly without everyone blocking her face from him. At last, the only thing that separated
them was the ten-foot-wide dazzling pool between them.
His amber gaze traveled down to the glistening water to see what she was staring at, seeing
their reflections in the pool. There might have been a ten-foot difference between them, but the
water showed a different story. She took a step forward and their reflections finally met as the
water glowed around them.
While their mirror images met for the first time, his heart beat again to a rhythm that only they
could understand … that only they could witness their reflections converging into one … that only
she and wind could hear his whispered answer.
“I can hear you.”
 C H A P T E R F O R T Y- T H R E E

W hen the music changed to another song, Ginny knew that Trudy and Dalton had come
outside. Switching to the song she wrote for them, she never took her eyes off the man
across the pool. She memorized his face, as if it were a song that she would have to sing in front of
thousands, afraid that if he left before she finished, she would never see him again.
Her tight grip on the microphone eased when she realized Shade was standing next to him. She
would be able to find him … be able touch to him.
When the song ended, she started to go around the pool, when a movement brought her into
Trudy’s waiting arms as she thanked her for singing and attending the wedding.
“You’re welcome,” she was finally able to get the strangled words outs.
When Dalton would have thanked her, she hooked Trudy’s arm through hers. “Willa needed you
to check on something in the kitchen.”
“Uh … I just talked to … Willa.”
Desperately tugging her sister through the crowd that had swelled to watch her sing, Ginny kept
trying to get her around the pool to the back door.
Tilting her head sideways, she whispered to Trudy. “Who’s that man with Shade?”
Ginny didn’t slow, rudely passing Fat Louise and Sex Piston as they tried to talk to Trudy.
“Who? I don’t see Shade?” Trudy craned her neck, trying to look over the crowd.
“Bitch, you owe me a new pair of white heels!” Sex Piston snapped, catching up with them to
give Trudy a piece of her mind.
“I’ll pay for them,” Ginny said, trying to shut Sex Piston up from distracting Trudy.
Going around Crazy Bitch and Calder, she pulled Trudy closer to her so she would have a better
viewpoint.
“Can you see him now?” Ginny kept trying to move her sister before Trudy could even answer,
not caring that Trudy’s friends were looking at her as if she had lost her mind.
“Do you …?” Ginny started to say when Trudy’s mouth dropped open and her eyes went from
where Shade and the man were going out the door, to her hopeful expression. She knew Trudy knew
who he was.
Her sister brought her hands to her hips. “Oh … hell … no.” Trudy started shaking her head,
some of her curls falling down that Sex Piston had styled.
“Who is he?”
“No.” Trudy shook her head again. “Not in a million fucking years.”
“Sex Piston, did you see?”
Sex Piston turned pale, then looked down and decided to stare at her nails. “I couldn’t see him.”
“Crazy Bitch?”
Crazy Bitch looked at Sex Piston, then Trudy. “I didn’t see a fucking thing.”
“What’s going on?” Fat Louise asked.
“Nothing,” Trudy snapped.
“Did you see who Shade was talking to?” Ginny begged her.
“Excuse me. I need to go to the potty. Bye.”
Looking around at who else she could ask, her eyes met Killyama’s, and Ginny knew from the
look in her eyes that she knew who the man was.
“If you don’t tell me who he is, I’ll just call and ask Shade,” she warned.
“It was Reaper, Viper’s brother.”

“G ood morning,” Ginny greeted Willa as she walked into the church’s kitchen.
“Good morning. I thought you would still be asleep.” Opening the oven door, Willa slid a
baking sheet in.
 “It’s too beautiful a day to sleep in. Would you mind if I go out for a while?”
“Why would I mind? You don’t work for me anymore.” Willa smiled, beginning to roll out some
pastry dough.
“I know, but I had planned to spend the day with you. But I ….”
“Ginny, you don’t have to explain. Go have a good time.”
“Thanks.” Ginny ran a hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “Do I look okay?”
The rolling pin stopped. “I’ve known you since you were eighteen years old. You’ve never once
asked me how you look.”
Nervously, she pulled down the tan-colored top to make sure her pouch didn’t show. “It never
mattered before.”
“And now it does?” she asked softly.
“Yes.”
“Can I ask why?” Willa’s eyes twinkled at her.
“You can, but I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Then I won’t. You can tell me when you’re ready. You look very pretty,” Willa complimented her.
Giving Willa a big hug, Ginny then gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Willa.”
“Anytime.”
Leaving her friend to make pie crust, Ginny left the church. Usually, she stayed at the hotel when
she was in town, but with so many of Dalton’s friends coming into town, Lucky offered to let her
stay at the church, in the part where he and Willa used to live before they moved in with The Last
Riders and built their own home on the connecting property.
Getting in her car, she buckled her seatbelt, then turned the music on. Rolling down the window,
she cranked the radio even louder.
She pulled out of the parking lot and saw Knox about to get in his squad car, giving her a frown
at the loud music. She didn’t bother turning it down. Knox might be the sheriff, but she’d heard his
music cranked as high as hers when he drove around on that badass bike of his.
Going around a curve, she passed Rosie’s bar and started to sing and bop her head along to
another song that came on. She pressed down on her horn when she saw Rider, Train, and Shade
coming out of the bar, giving them a jaunty wave.
Cracking up at their expressions, she started singing a song that she began writing last night.

R eaper was squatting beside his motorcycle, replacing the belt, when he heard a car pull into
the parking lot. He didn’t even bother to see who it was, aggravated the belt needed to be
changed when all he wanted to do was get the fuck out of town.
“Hi!”
Raising his head, he saw the woman who The Last Riders were protecting, determined to find
her stalker, and the reason he was getting the fuck out of dodge, looking down at him with a million-
watt smile.
That he didn’t respond to her didn’t dim her smile as she walked around his motorcycle to stare
down at his bike as if she knew what was wrong with it.
“Need any help?”
“No,” he snapped.
Squatting down next to him, she rested her wrists on her thighs. “I can hand you a wrench if you
need it,” she offered, picking up a pressure gauge.
When he didn’t make a move to take it from her, she laid it down and picked up the motorcycle
chain. “I can hand you this when you’re ready for it.”
“I just took it off,” he said coldly.
“Oh ….” Still smiling, she laid it back down, then wiped her hands on her clean, white pant leg.
Then she stuck her hand out. “I’m Ginny.”
He didn’t take her hand, but he did turn his face toward hers.
“Reaper.”
Ginny’s face went soft.
He froze when she lifted the hand that he hadn’t shaken to touch his face, sliding her soft
fingertips down his cheek, skimming the skin above his beard, then curving downward to stop
before she reached the fullness of his beard.
“You look more like a Gavin to me,” she whispered, her eyes memorizing his. “I’ve been
searching for you for such a long time,” she said achingly.
Reaper felt his mouth drop open at her words.
Removing her hand from his face, she turned her fingers to show him the oil stains on her
fingertips.
His eyes were still glued to hers when hers lifted, looking over his shoulder.
“You have my phone charger, Rider?”
“Yes. I left it in the office at the factory. We can go get it.”
 Ginny nodded at Rider, then looked back at him. “It’s been nice meeting you, Gavin.”
She stood, then left with Rider. Unconsciously, Reaper stood to watch her go.
“That’s Ginny,” Train said, sitting down on his bike.
“I fucking know who she is,” he snapped.
“Just wanted you to know whose ass you’re watching.”
“Get off my bike.” Surly, he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to pull himself out of the stupor
that she just placed him in. He hadn’t been aware the brothers had pulled into the lot, having come
back from returning the kegs from T.A.’s wedding.
Train grinned, getting off, then turning to go up the steps to the clubhouse. “You coming,
Shade?”
Shade didn’t move. “I’ll be there in a few.”
Train curiously cocked his head to the side. “What are you waiting for?”
Reaper felt Shade give him a look of anticipation.
“I’m waiting for her to come back out.”
 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My Readers:
Life is a funny, crazy thing. I’ve had to dodge several curve balls during my life, and I’m pretty
sure I will be until this crazy life of mine is over.
I never really expected much out of life. I’m not really one who thinks life owes me a darn thing,
and I’m good with that philosophy. I never expected so many people to read my books, or that they
would take my characters into their hearts the way they have. The really strange part is that I didn’t
expect people to actually read my stories. Truthfully, I look back and don’t know what I was
expecting, but it definitely wasn’t having thousands of people reading my books. Even if I never
write another word, the joy and excitement that has entered my life is more than I ever expected or
dreamed about. You may not know it, but this girl has had a lot of help along this crazy ride, and I
want to thank each of you to the best of my abilities with my heartfelt love.

Kristin (C&D Editing):

I think this acknowledgement is the most emotional one for me. You see, Kristin doesn’t just take
the extra mile for me; she takes the whole freakin’ highway. You guys don’t know this; but my books
aren’t easy to edit. This woman is a saint.
I’m going to tell you all a little secret. A few years ago, when I was having some health issues … I
had a stroke. It left me with aphasia and the inability to recognize the letters of the alphabet or
numbers. The ability to read was gone, much less ability to write. The doctors told me that it could
take a year to come back and, if it didn’t, it was gone forever. Thank God that I had a book done
ahead of time, so I could just concentrate on focusing on relearning what was lost.
Now, this girl isn’t much in the looks department, but what I was proudest of was my brain. I
used to take quizzes on the internet just to see how high I could score. I knew words that most
people had to look up for the definition. I had an almost photographic memory and could remember
anything I had ever read and the page number it was on. Wow … pride goes before a fall, and I fell
hard. I relearned the alphabet on an app on my phone that children play (just so you know, they do
work). I spent hours sounding out letters then gradually sounding out words. I spent hours on end
reading out loud to help me remember how to talk and learning how to read.
When I started writing again, it was chicken scratch. Truthfully, my writing before wasn’t much
better before my stroke, but Kristin didn’t complain; she just edited it, and if she couldn’t figure it
out, she would just ask “What is this?” Lord, there were a lot of those. But somehow, someway, she
figured it out. Why am I talking about this so long you may ask? Because Kristin gave me back the
ability to write again. Any other editor would have said hell to the no. She didn’t. She puts up with
me screwing up contractions (was and wasn’t are the main culprits), the inability for me to
remember that I’ve used the same freakin’ names (apparently, I really like the name Ginger, Grace
and Dalton), and I can’t remember how to spell Ginny. She’s even offered to put my books on a
program so I can stop driving her crazy. See what I mean? Kristin is more than an editor; she’s my
left hand. I owe her a debt that I can never repay because, while I have mostly recovered from my
stroke (unless we’re talking about math, which I really don’t count anyway because I kind of sucked
at that before), she was there when I needed her most. She still is, and I pray she always will be.

To my sister and brothers:

We were all blessed to have the parents we were given. They instilled in us values that we have
now passed down to our children. There isn’t a day that I don’t think about them, and I know the
rest of the family misses them, as well. They would be so proud of each and every one of you and
the accomplishments that you all have made. If they were still living, everyone in the small town
from where we were born would know about it. Our mother loved to brag about her children and
grandchildren. Our father did, too; he just wasn’t as obnoxious about it as she was. I love you all
and proud to belong to the same family.

Shannon:
My nephew was the luckiest man on earth when you fell in love with him. The world would be a
better place with more of you in it. You’re that special. We shared books together, and it never
bothered you that people looked us like we crazy, talking about characters as if they were real. You
were the first one who to read Razer’s Ride for me and gave me the confidence I needed to allow it
to be published. You gave me courage anytime I was in doubt about giving my characters free rein.
Most of all, you had me stepping out of my safe zone with slot machines and taught me how to play
blackjack. I don’t have to wonder how your children will turn out. With you guiding them, they
cannot fail. Lastly, I would like to thank you for this series as it wouldn’t be a trilogy without you.

Sarah, Daniel, and Alex:

My children already know how much I love them—I tell them every day. I’m willing to bet Daniel
wishes I didn’t love him so much or that I didn’t need so many pumpkin spice lattes.
I might be a tad bit overprotective. You had to put up with my dire warnings about speeding to
riding motorcycles without giving me too much flack. I tell him all the time that he’ll understand
when he has children. I doubt it, though. Truthfully, it probably is excessive. You see, Daniel has
always been my rock in the world. Just by being born, you made me a better person. You made me a
mother when I was told I would never be one. And as you grew older, I could be proud of the
individual you became. Your soul shines anytime you help others, turn the other cheek when others
can’t, and show patience and understanding when few others could. Son, you’re a unicorn in a
world that can’t see them anymore. I do. That’s why, when I bug you so much about being safe, it’s
because my heart couldn’t bear a world without you.

Sarah, every day I look at you, I see more of your grandmother. Not only do you look like her, but
you share the same attitude of speaking your mind, of being true to yourself, and treating others as
you want to be treated. You don’t say “I can’t” when you want to do something; you work harder to
accomplish what goal you have set for yourself and the goals you have set for me. I hope all your
dreams come true in life, as you’ve made mine.

Alex, I no longer tell people I have one daughter. I have two. You saw how special Dan was and
changed the path you were set out not only to include Dan but Sarah and me. You made sure you
didn’t lose your individuality and dreams while helping us to achieve ours. I know I can count on
you when I need to, and when the time comes that I’m no longer around, that he’ll have you to keep
him out of trouble. The only thing that would make you even more perfect is grandchildren. (hint,
hint)

Randie:
OMG, what can I say about you? Jesus, this woman is a thorn in my side when it comes to taking
over for the second edit. She makes me keep track of things I don’t want to keep track of. She
always wants more … and more until she finally nudges me over to do what I should have done in
the first place but was too stubborn to do. She’s a perfectionist and makes me be one, too. The
smart woman plays into my vanity to get what she wants and, like a sucker, I fall for it every time.
I’m nothing if not vain. Each book has to be better than the last. Randie could rule the world if she
wanted to. She damn sure does me.

Michele:
I’m pretty sure Michele wants to delete me from texting her. She keeps my timetable consistent
so I can keep track of my characters’ ages and how long ago something happened. In Gavin’s book,
I was texting her numerous times, which anyone else would have told me to go taking a flying leap,
but she didn’t. Pouring over my past books until she found the answer I needed, I double-checked
mine and generally just made a nuisance of myself. She’s become a friend that I would have never
had met if I hadn’t written Razer’s Ride. And even if she gets tired of reading my books, I will
always treasure her friendship and the help she has given me.

Sherry:
Thank you for bringing a smile to my lips every day. I forget there is whole world out there when
I’m writing, and you bring me back to reality. You’re always there when I need you to read my books
and find something that I’ve missed. I can’t imagine my days without your help nor your whacky
sense of humor.

Natasha Madison:
You are an author whom I admire and the hardest working woman I know. You are the type of
woman there should be more of in the world, as you not only rise to the top but want to bring your
fellow authors up with you. Also, you are fucking hilarious, and your say-it-how-it-is attitude makes
you the badass that you are.

Jessie Lane:
You are the first author friend whom Sarah and I ever made and a fellow Kentuckian. Thank you
for always being our “book google.” If there is something we need to know about the author world,
you always know it. You are quite possibly the sharpest tool in our toolbox, and we wouldn’t have
the knowledge or be the authors we are today if it wasn’t for you. One thing is for sure, we have
made a friend for life.

Lisa:
You are always there to lend a guiding hand. I reached out to you for author services, and it
turned out you were a fan of my books. However, that quickly changed, as you have become a true
friend. You are a diamond in this world, and Knox is forever yours.
 READING ORDER

1. Razer's Ride (The Last Riders)

2. Viper's Run (The Last Riders)
3. Knox's Stand (The Last Riders)
4. Sex Piston (Biker Bitches)
5. Teased (The VIP Room)
6. Tainted (The VIP Room)
7. Shade's Fall (The Last Riders)
8. King (The VIP Room)
9. Cash's Fight (The Last Riders)
10. Fat Louise (Biker Bitches)
11. Riot (Predators MC)
12. Shade (The Last Riders)
13. Stand Off (Predators MC)
14. Lucky's Choice (The Last Riders)
15. Keeping What's His: Tate (Porter Brothers Trilogy)
16. Merry Blissmas (Biker Bitches)
17. Hostage (Predators MC)
18. Winter's Touch (The Last Riders)
19. Train's Clash (The Last Riders, Biker Bitches)
20. Standing His Ground: Greer (Porter Brother's Trilogy)
21. Crazy B!tch (Biker Bitches)
22. Rider's Revenge (The Last Riders)
23.Stalked (Predators MC)
24. Claiming the Enemy: Dustin (Porter Brothers Trilogy)
25. T.A. (Biker Bitches)
26. Dangerous Love
27. Gavin’s Song (Road to Salvation: A Last Rider's Trilogy)