Tainted Reign: A Dark Enemies to

Lovers Gang Romance (Little Haven

Series Book 3) Kay Riley
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TAINTED REIGN
LITTLE HAVEN BOOK 3

KAY RILEY
 CONTENTS
Book Playlist
Note to Readers:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
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
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Also By Kay Riley
Copyright © 2024 Kay Riley
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 publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review.

Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. And any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, locales, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are
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Cover Design by: Dark Ink Designs

Edited by: Editing by Gray
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 For all the readers who collect fictional boyfriends.
Here are three more morally gray ones to choose from.
 BOOK PL AYLIST

Theme song:

Drinking with Cupid by VOILA

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Qgj0wZc0oIvysXwNPPClS?si=84e5fa18874f4302
 NOTE TO READERS:

Tainted Reign is the final book in the Little Haven series. For the story to be understood, the first two books must be
read first. This is a dark romance with dark themes. For more information about content, please refer to the author’s
website.
https://www.kayrileyauthor.com/
 PROLOGUE
THIRTEEN YEARS OLD

“IT ’ S TIME FOR DINNER ,” my mother said, her voice as quiet and soft as it always was.
My stepfather waved his hand. “He can eat later. I’m taking him with me.”
I stared at my shoes, anger heating my veins. This argument happened almost every weekend. I wasn’t sure why my mom even
tried anymore. Nothing ever changed.
“Antonio,” my mom pleaded, her voice shrill. “He’s my son, and you treat him like⁠—”
“Yes, your son,” Antonio growled.
I raised my eyes to see his face an inch from my mother’s. Her chin trembled, but she didn’t back down. My stepfather never
laid a hand on her. She carried just as much power in our world as he did, and Antonio knew that. It would wreck everything
between their families if she showed up in public bruised and battered.
But I wasn’t so lucky.
“He’s your son,” Antonio sneered, his voice cruel. “Not mine. Because you whored yourself out and got pregnant by someone
who isn’t your husband.”
“I’ve spent years trying to make it up to you,” she cried, putting her palms to his chest as if that would calm him down. “I’m
sorry.”
“Your son is nothing but a bastard,” he replied coldly. “Someone who will do nothing in this life. Except what I tell him to
do.”
I curled my hands into fists despite myself. I’d spent my entire childhood being terrified of this man. Until I promised myself
that I wouldn’t be scared anymore because it didn’t change anything. Instead of fear, all I felt was absolute hatred for my
stepfather. Every day, it was getting worse, making me wonder how long I had until I snapped.
He was larger than me. Stronger. But he wouldn’t be forever. I dreamed about the day I was big enough to fight back. Maybe
he’d leave me alone after that.
“Let’s go, boy,” Antonio snapped.
I ground my teeth, my feet moving slowly to follow him. He never called me by my name, as if that would erase my identity
even more. I snuck a glance at my mom, who was already turning away from me, hiding behind her long, black hair. She could
never face me after she lost an argument—which was often.
I think she loved me. But she was too weak to stand up to her husband, even for me.
“Daddy, where are you going?”
My older sister appeared near the kitchen door, her brown hair framing her face. She gave me a warm smile before giving
Antonio a hug.
“We’re going out for a bit, sweetheart,” Antonio answered, his voice completely different than it usually was toward me. My
half sister was his only daughter and was doted on as if the world belonged to her. Out of everyone in this family, I was closest
to her. She never treated me unequally because we had different fathers. Even our two brothers acted like I didn’t exist.
But she didn’t see what Antonio did to me. In her eyes, her father was perfect. I didn’t want to ruin her childhood, so I’d never
told her. She didn’t need that burden.
“Go help your mother,” he said, releasing her. “We’ll be back later.”
She nodded and gave me a wave before skipping away. Antonio opened the door and strode out, not waiting to see if I’d
follow. He knew I would. The one time I hadn’t, he’d made sure I learned to never make that mistake again.
The walk wasn’t long, and I kept my eyes on the dark sky as I trudged forward. The stars were bright tonight, and I counted
them while I walked a few feet behind Antonio.
“Stop wasting time and get inside.”
I lowered my gaze from the sky, meeting his hard stare. He ripped open the door, ushering me inside. The stench of death and
blood invaded my nostrils, but it didn’t slow me down. This garage was at the back of the property, and I’d lost count of how
many times I’d been in here.
A man’s screams were echoing off the walls, though they were impossible to hear from outside. The entire place was
soundproofed. A hand landed between my shoulder blades before I was shoved forward. I managed to keep my footing and
didn’t bother to look behind me.
“I said hurry up,” Antonio snarled. “I have a meeting I can’t be late for.”
His temper was always worse when we were in the garage. I kept moving, the man’s screams making my ears ring. After a
couple more feet, he came into sight, and I swallowed thickly.
He was hanging by his arms, his toes barely grazing the cement floor. His torso was covered in so much blood that it was
impossible to see his injuries. One of Antonio’s men swung his fist into the man’s ribs, and I nearly flinched. I knew firsthand
how badly those hits hurt. How long it took broken ribs to heal.
“They’ll be done soon,” Antonio stated, standing next to me. “You’re cleaning up tonight.”
Bile rose in my throat, but I only nodded. At least this time I wasn’t helping with the torture.
“Shit,” he suddenly muttered, glancing at his phone. “They’re early.”
I didn’t comment, knowing that asking questions about his business was something not to do.
“Go outside,” he ordered, grabbing my arm. “There’s an SUV out there. Tell them I’ll be out in twenty minutes.”
“But—”
His hand came out of nowhere, connecting with my jaw. Pain exploded across my face, and I staggered back a step.
“No questions. Just do it,” he said shortly. “Right the fuck now.”
I shuffled away, my cheek hot from his hit. Red lined my vision, and all I wanted to do was turn around and punch him back. I
almost didn’t care if I died for it.
I slammed open the door, taking advantage of the fresh air before searching for the car he was talking about. A large vehicle
was parked about thirty feet away with their lights off. All the windows were tinted, making it impossible to see inside. Nerves
skittered through me as I made my way to it. Other than the men in the garage, I wasn’t part of Antonio’s business.
When I got closer, the driver’s window rolled down, and a guy narrowed his eyes at me.
“Uh—Antonio will be out in twenty minutes,” I mumbled.
“Who are you?” the guy asked sharply.
“His stepson,” I said bitterly.
He gave me a once-over. “How old are you?”
“Thirteen.”
There was another voice that came from the SUV, but it was too low for me to hear. I stepped back, wanting to take advantage
of these twenty minutes. Antonio never told me to come back inside, so I was spending every second I could in the cool night
air.
My attention went back to the car when I noticed the man muttering something under his breath. It almost seemed like he was
arguing with someone. After another minute of it, he looked back at me.
“Get in. Back door,” he said gruffly.
Unease slid through me. “No, thanks. I’m good.”
He lifted his hand, revealing a gun. “That wasn’t an offer.”
I pressed my lips together, considering running. But run where? Back to Antonio? Whatever was in that car couldn’t be worse
than my life now. My steps were hesitant as I moved toward the door. I heard the locks click, and I grasped the handle, pulling
it open.
My eyes widened in shock when I saw the woman sitting in the back seat. She gave me a soft smile, patting the empty space
next to her.
“I just want to talk,” she said gently. “My friend here shouldn’t have threatened you.”
“He shouldn’t see you,” the driver retorted. “No one is supposed to know you’re here. That’s the job. I leave the car and do
business, and you stay in here.”
“It’s fine.” She gave the man a stern look before focusing back on me. “Please, just sit down for a few minutes.”
“Antonio will come looking for me⁠—”
“I can handle him.”
I stared at her, never having heard someone say that about my stepfather. Curiosity alone had me climbing inside and closing
the door. My heart lurched when the car began moving, driving away from the garage. It stopped under a tree, the shadows
hiding the car even more.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
I scowled. “Gianni.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like your name?”
“No one else does. Why should I?” I shrugged. “It’s only a reminder that I was born when I shouldn’t have been.”
My face flushed, and I cursed myself. This woman was a stranger. I shouldn’t be telling her anything about myself. Especially if
she’s in business with Antonio. But she seemed different…nice. Something I didn’t get much of at home.
“I research everyone I work with,” she informed me. “It took some digging to even learn about you. You’re not in the public
like Antonio’s other children.”
“I’m not his child.”
“I know.” She lifted her hand, softly brushing my cheek where Antonio had hit me. “Is life hard for you?”
My heart clenched. I didn’t know how to answer her. Life was miserable. But she didn’t need my sob story. I just jerked a nod
before looking out the window to make sure Antonio wasn’t in sight yet.
“If you could, would you leave?”
Her question had my eyes snapping back to hers. The driver let out a small groan but didn’t say a word.
“Yes,” I answered with no hesitation.
She tilted her head. “Would you miss your mother?”
“Her life would be better without me in it.”
I wasn’t sure if my words were truth or not, but I knew I was the reason her marriage was strained. If I was gone, then there
wouldn’t be a constant reminder of my mother’s mistake.
She held her hand out for me to shake. “I’m Ellie.”
“Fuck,” the driver muttered, turning to glare. “We can’t keep doing this. Your job is not to save kids. It’s going to get you
caught.”
Her smile faded, her eyes flashing with something dangerous as she looked at the man. “Your job isn’t to question me, Sal.”
His jaw clenched, but he spun back around to stare out the windshield. Ellie returned her attention to me, the comforting smile
back in place.
“I can get you out,” she whispered. “Somewhere Antonio will never find you. I can make sure you live a life you want.”
I frowned in suspicion. “Why would you help me?”
“Because my life was hard once,” she answered. “I got help, and now I want to make sure I do the same.”
“Time’s up,” Sal said tightly. “Have him go out the other door so no one sees. And make sure the kid knows that he’s dead if he
so much as mentions you.”
I turned my head to see Antonio standing in the open doorway. My pulse thudded, hoping he didn’t know I was in the car.
Ellie rolled her eyes toward the front before speaking to me. “Go back outside. Act normal. But I’ll be back, okay? Maybe not
me, but my men will. I just need your answer. Do you want out? Yes or no.”
I stared at her, hoping this wasn’t a trap. But I had nothing to lose.
“Yes.”
 C HAPTER ONE

“P UT THE GUN DOWN , RYNN ,” Chris ordered impatiently. “Don’t make this worse on yourself.”
My grip tightened on my weapon as I kept it aimed at him. Even though it had probably only been a few minutes, it felt like
hours. That was the third time he’d told me to drop the gun, and once again, I ignored him. The second I did what he wanted, I
would be trapped with him. My heart was pounding out of control, and I scanned the club, searching for one fucking friendly
face in the crowd.
Disciples members had me surrounded, but they weren’t venturing closer to me when I had a gun on their boss. However, they
were staying in front of the exit, making it impossible for me to escape the club. Gage had told me there were people here to
help me, but clearly, he was wrong. Hurt slithered through my panic. I still couldn’t believe he’d just fucking walked away
from me.
“Rynn,” Chris snapped, stepping forward. “Put it down.”
“Not until your men move so I can leave,” I retorted, keeping my voice steady.
“As your father⁠—”
“Fuck. You,” I snarled. My finger stayed tight on the trigger. “I will never see you as family.”
My eyes widened slightly when I caught Jace shoving through the thick wall of men who were standing behind Chris. His gaze
locked on mine before dropping to the gun in my hand. Chris must have noticed where my attention was and glanced over his
shoulder.
“Jace,” Chris said, nodding at me. “Maybe you can convince her to come willingly.”
A muscle in Jace’s jaw ticked, his eyes darting between Chris and me. “She won’t listen to me.”
Chris frowned, turning his focus back on me. “Maybe your husband can help then.”
My stomach twisted painfully when there was more commotion to my left and Kian appeared. He was in much worse shape
than Jace. The side of his face was red and swollen, and his arms were tied behind him as two Disciples pushed him forward
until he was in our sight. His struggles did nothing, and his eyes were murderous when he glared at Chris. Jace stared at Kian,
his body tense. He didn’t move a muscle, staying next to Chris, and I couldn’t even try to guess what he was thinking right now.
“Kian will be staying here for now,” Chris stated. “I don’t need Grimrose trying to make moves against me at the moment.”
“Get fucked,” Kian spat out, his voice nearly trembling with rage. “You shot my dad. I don’t even know if he’s alive.”
I wasn’t sure if he was actually worried about his father or if he was upset because Chris was using him as a pawn. For the last
three days, Kian had acted like he wanted nothing to do with Hayes. But he was still his dad.
Chris ignored him and spoke to me instead. “Are you going to abandon your husband and leave him here?”
His indirect threat wasn’t lost on me. He’d hurt Kian if I didn’t comply. Chris’s eyes flicked to Jace for a moment, making my
skin crawl. He would hurt both of them if he thought it would make me listen. Just like Hayes, he was using my emotions
against me. Or he was at least chancing it. There was no way he knew how much I would do for Jace or Kian.
“Don’t, Rynn,” Kian gritted out, looking at me. “Leave.”
Chris’s laugh was cruel. “She’s not leaving. She belongs here.”
One of the men to my left lunged at me, and I swung my gun toward him, shooting him in the chest. He went down, but two
others charged toward me at the same time. One of them caught my arm, pushing it up before I could shoot again. Panic swelled
inside me as more men closed in around me. The gun was ripped from my grip, and a second later, my arms were wrenched
behind me.
“Let her go.”
The strong feminine voice cut through the air, and Chris straightened, a frown forming on his face as he looked behind me.
“I won’t say it again. I’ll drop anyone who still has hands on her.”
Chris’s hands clenched into fists. “Release her.”
My arms were suddenly free, and the men around me hastily backed away. A hand touched my back, and I instantly stiffened
until she whispered in my ear.
“Sorry we’re late.”
Shock and relief filtered through me when I turned to see Mili. Ellie’s friend who’d helped me threaten Jace and Kian when
they tried taking campus. Her two guys were part of the Riot Crew, but I didn’t see them here anywhere. Not that she needed a
man to do her dirty work.
Mili gave me a gleeful grin, but her eyes were dancing dangerously when she raised her gaze to look at Chris. Her black hair
was loose and hanging down her back, and she was wearing black jeans with a red crop top. I noticed a gun in the waistband
on her back, and my respect for her grew even more. She was surrounded by weapons but didn’t feel the need to take hers out.
“Mili,” Chris said tightly. “I wasn’t aware the Riot Crew was here tonight.”
“Oh, they’re not,” Mili responded. “I came as someone’s plus-one.”
“Who?” Chris couldn’t help but ask, his anger rising.
“Mine.”
Another body appeared on my other side, and when I glanced at the woman next to me, I tried to place her. Her hair was dark
brown with lighter strands throughout it. She was wearing jean shorts and a baggy T-shirt that was no doubt hiding at least one
weapon. I didn’t know her like I did Mili, but confidence was radiating off her. Her brown eyes met mine, and she gave me a
quick smile.
“Rynn, this is Vanessa. Or Vee if she considers you a friend.” Mili introduced us as if we weren’t in a tense stand-off. “We
figured you’d need backup tonight.”
“She doesn’t need anything,” Chris spoke up, his voice dangerous. “She’s my daughter. Pacific Point is where she belongs.”
Vanessa cocked her head. “Have you asked her if this is where she wants to be? Or are your men just pointing their guns at her
for the fun of it?”
Some of the guys around us murmured under their breath as Chris’s face turned a shade darker. Oh, he really didn’t like her
questioning him. Yet he didn’t do a thing to kick them out of his club. I wondered if he knew who Mili really was. Everyone in
our criminal circle knew she was with the Riot Crew, but she had her own power even before then. Not many knew who she
was, but I did.
And she wasn’t someone to fuck with. I had a feeling her friend Vanessa was the same, since Chris was watching them both
with apprehension.
“I’m not forcing her,” Chris ground out, waving his hand. “Put the guns down.”
Most looked confused, but they all followed his order. For a split second, I thought maybe I was really going to walk out of
here. Until Chris raised his arm and dropped his hand on Jace’s shoulder. Even from across the room, I saw Jace tense when
Chris dug his fingers into his shoulder. Jace didn’t move a muscle, his stare staying above me, making it impossible to catch his
eye.
“We just want family time,” Chris said, managing a smile that looked more like a sneer. “I need to tell Rynn all about her
mother. I’m sure she’s curious.”
“Do you want to go with him?” Mili asked under her breath, keeping her words between us.
I didn’t answer right away. I absolutely did not want to go with him. But as my eyes cut between Jace and Kian, I wasn’t sure I
had a choice. If I walked out of here, Chris was going to make their lives miserable. I didn’t know whether he’d even keep
Kian alive if things went south with Grimrose.
“She doesn’t want to leave those two,” Vanessa murmured, catching on to who I was looking at.
Mili arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t those the same guys I helped you with? The ones who held you for four days?”
“Yes,” I muttered in a resigned voice.
Chris was glaring at us, but with how low we were talking, he couldn’t hear. Jace was still standing next to him, his jaw
clenched, as he stared at me. When he caught my eye, he gave the subtlest shake of his head. He wanted me to leave.
“This is personal business,” Chris snapped, losing his patience. “I’m asking you two to leave.”
“Sure.” Mili linked her arm with mine. “We’ll go.”
A vein above Chris’s eye throbbed, and he stepped forward, his gaze staying on me. “Do not forget you’re in my city. Not
Ridgewood.” His eyes cut to Vanessa. “Or Suncrest. Disrespect will not be tolerated.”
Mili’s back went rigid, and she straightened. “You forget who you’re talking to.”
The men around us were watching with rapt attention, some shifting on their feet uncomfortably. It was obvious they were
aware of who Vanessa and Mili were, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence standing between these two women.
Both claimed their own power, and like Ellie, they thrived in a world that men usually dominated. Someday, that would be me
too.
“I’ll go with him,” I blurted out, turning toward Mili and whispering my next words. “If I know she can get me out.”
By she, I meant Ellie. I snuck a glance at Kian before looking back at Mili. I couldn’t walk away knowing that Jace and Kian
were going to be stuck here. Plus, I wanted to learn all I could about Chris. I wanted to know his weaknesses. The holes in his
security. Staying in his city for a bit would help with that. I doubted he wanted to kill me. Not when I was still useful.
But I had every intention of fucking ending him, and learning about his home and city was something even Ellie had a difficult
time with. Getting inside his empire could be what we needed.
Mili frowned, studying me. “We can. But it’s still a risk.”
“I can handle him,” I said in a low voice. “He needs me alive.”
Vanessa was listening, and she exchanged a look with Mili before turning toward Chris again.
“How’s Sunday afternoon?” Vanessa asked, a sinister grin on her face.
Chris frowned. “For what?”
“Lunch,” she answered.
“That gives you two days to tell Rynn all about her mother,” Mili added. “Then she’ll leave with us.”
Chris seemed at a loss for words as he glared at the three of us. He wanted to argue but knew what could happen if he did. The
Riot Crew would back up Mili. I was sure whoever Vanessa was with would get involved too. On top of the Underground. He
would be fucked. Especially now that he didn’t have Grimrose on his side.
“No,” Kian snarled. “Rynn, just go.”
“Take him to the car,” Chris snapped, nodding at the men holding Kian.
My heart pounded as Kian fought against the guys who started pulling him away from the crowd. He shot me one last panicked
look before he disappeared, and a door slammed shut in the back of the club.
“Sunday,” Chris finally agreed. “Unless, of course, Rynn decides she wants to stay longer.”
Ice chilled my veins, but I lifted my chin, keeping my stare on him. I couldn’t deny the slice of fear sliding through me, but the
loathing for this man outweighed that. I wanted him dead, and staying in his city could help with that. Although, it wasn’t the
only reason I was going. Jace was eyeing me, a hint of worry breaking through his blank mask.
I was putting my trust in Mili and Vanessa to help get me out of Pacific Point. I was also putting my trust in two guys who
should hate me. But they’d proved again and again they didn’t. I couldn’t walk away from them, no matter how much I knew
going with Chris could be a mistake.
“Come on, Rynn,” Chris said tightly. “We’re leaving.”
I swallowed thickly, wondering if I was fucking up. It was a huge risk.
“Tell her I’m fine,” I muttered under my breath, looking at Mili. “To not retaliate until Sunday. Let me play this out.”
Ellie was going to be pissed. But she trusted my instincts. She was the one who’d taught me everything I knew. My gut twisted,
thinking of Gage. I wanted him here with me. He was always at my back. But not this time.
“You’ll be fine.” Mili nudged me. “If I didn’t think so, you’d be leaving with me now. Chris isn’t stupid enough to hurt you.”
The tension in the room skyrocketed at her words, since she spoke them loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Of course I wouldn’t hurt her,” Chris grated out. “She is my daughter.”
We didn’t know that for sure yet, but I was positive a blood test would be the first thing he did once we left here. I seriously
hoped Hayes was wrong and I had no relation to this monster.
“Let’s go,” Chris demanded, his impatience getting the best of him.
I looked at Vanessa and Mili one last time before I forced myself to cross the room. Jace shifted to get closer to me, but Chris
stepped toward me first. He motioned for me to walk next to him, and I fell in step with him as we headed toward the kitchen
exit. My pulse was thudding, and I could feel Jace behind me as we left the club. Chris moved ahead of me to talk to two of his
men.
“Don’t do this, Rynn,” Jace hissed in a whisper. “Turn around and leave.”
I shook my head, not answering him. It was too late now. I only hoped this worked out how I wanted.
 C H A P T E R T WO

I TWISTED in the cuffs again, ignoring the metal biting into my wrists as I tried to slip out of them like I had been since they
locked them on me. According to the clock radio, it had been over an hour since King forced me away from Pacific Point, and
we’d been in this fucking car the entire time, heading north. It was only King and I in the car, and I was in the passenger seat
while he drove. My wrists were cuffed behind my back, making sitting in this seat even more fucking uncomfortable.
“You’re only making it worse on yourself,” King murmured, keeping his eyes on the road. “I tightened those myself. You’re not
getting out of them.”
I glared daggers at the side of his head. “Where the hell are we going?”
A cold smirk was his only answer as we lapsed into silence again. They’d emptied my pockets of everything before we left
Pacific Point, leaving my phone and weapons behind. I had nothing on me. Not that it mattered. I didn’t have a chance of getting
away right now. There wasn’t anywhere I could go where my family wouldn’t find me. And there was no way I was risking
Ellie’s safety by going back to her.
I blew out a shaky breath while resting my head on the seat and closing my eyes. The last moments before I left Rynn behind
flashed in my mind, making my stomach twist painfully. I’d promised her that I would be there for her. And when she needed
me, I walked away from her. I left her in the middle of chaos with the fucking hope that she had enough people in there to get
her out.
The guilt had put a weight on my chest ever since I left the club. But if I had to do it again, I would make the same damn
decision. Rynn was better off staying far away from my past. Chris, Hayes, all the shit happening at Little Haven—it was bad.
But it would be much worse if she was in this car with me.
I just fucking hoped that she got out and wasn’t with Chris. Or Grimrose. Anger flooded my veins at the reminder of that. I
knew she hadn’t married Kian because she wanted to. But she was married to him. And that alone had me seeing red. Was this
his plan all along? Get her to his father so he could marry her? I was going to fucking kill him.
“I need to stop for gas. I’ll meet up soon.”
I cracked my eyes open to see King sliding his phone back into his pocket, and then he turned left while the sedan we’d been
following continued heading straight. My heart thudded as I subtly straightened up. If we were stopping, then I could possibly
slip away. But he kept driving, passing two gas stations.
“Planning on killing me?” I asked gruffly when we reached the edge of a small town.
“No. Just a quick pitstop.” He glanced at me, warning filling his eyes. “Try to escape, and you’ll fucking regret it.”
I clenched my jaw, not responding when he pulled into what looked like an abandoned auto garage. One of the large rolling
doors was up, and he pulled in before cutting the engine. I scanned the large room, checking to see if there were any weapons
I’d be able to use if I got out of these cuffs. But other than a shiny black SUV that was parked inside, it was empty. Toolboxes
and counters lined the back wall, but there wasn’t anything in sight that I could use.
King pocketed the keys and then got out. I tracked his movements as he strode behind the car and pulled down the large rolling
door. There was one long fluorescent light on above the black SUV, but the windows were tinted, making it impossible to see
who was inside. Before I could study the garage more, King ripped open my door and hauled me to my feet. He slammed me
into the side of the car, keeping my cuffed arms trapped between my body and the sedan.
I glowered at him as he shoved me back again when I tried pushing off the car. His fingers dug into my shoulder as he held me
in place, and my hands curled into fists. Unease slithered through my anger when the door of the SUV swung open.
“Do not fucking move,” King hissed under his breath.
I raised my gaze to the newcomer, and shock nearly stole my breath. Heels clicked on the floor as she sauntered closer, and my
eyes met her brown ones as all my words left me. It might have been years since I’d seen her, but there was no denying who she
was. Her face was unreadable as she stopped in front of me, and my heart squeezed with emotions I hadn’t felt in years.
She raised her arm, and the next thing I felt was the sting of her palm when she slapped me across the face.
“Fuck, Mar,” I ground out, her nickname spilling out as if we were kids again. “That’s how you greet your brother after seven
years?”
“Eight years,” she shot back, her voice colder than I remembered. “Eight years with no word from you.”
We stared at each other for a moment, my childhood memories choking me. I didn’t think of my past. Ever. But having Mar
standing in front of me was bringing it all back. After a couple more moments, she tore her gaze from me to look at King.
“Key,” she demanded, holding out her hand.
“No,” he clipped out. “The cuffs stay on.”
Her eyes flashed with annoyance, and I nearly chuckled. She might be older, but she hadn’t changed much. She never liked
being told no. I had a feeling her attitude had only gotten worse with age.
“Give me the key,” she ordered sharply. “Did you forget that you’re here under my order?”
King sighed as he glanced at me warily while digging into his pocket. When he pulled out the small handcuff key, my pulse
thudded in excitement. I didn’t need a weapon if my hands were free. This motherfucker was dead.
He ripped me away from the car, and I stayed still as he unlocked the cuffs. Mar was staring at me, looking torn between being
angry and being happy to see me.
Mariana. My half sister. She was just a year older than me, and she was the only one I’d missed since I ran from home. Her
dark brown hair was shorter than I remembered, hanging just above her shoulders. It was wavy and perfectly styled. Makeup
enhanced her features, and the dress she was wearing probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.
The cuffs clicked before my wrists were free, and I glanced over my shoulder to see King backing away, a gun already in his
hand. He wasn’t stupid.
My attention turned back to my sister when her arms wrapped around my neck, squeezing me tightly. I hugged her back, pain
lashing in my chest. I never thought I’d see her again.
“You’re an asshole,” she breathed out as she hugged me. “I spent years thinking you were dead.”
“Is that what the family told you?”
She pulled away, messing with her hair while she attempted to rein in her emotions. She was worse than me when it came to
revealing anything vulnerable. And she was the best liar in the family. The way she could spin any story with a straight face got
us out of a lot of trouble when we were kids.
“They didn’t tell me anything,” she muttered. “Acted like you didn’t exist after you disappeared.”
“Ten minutes,” King said, making me glance at him. “They’ll know something is wrong if we’re here too long.”
I jerked my head at him while looking back at Mar. “Who is he?”
I didn’t miss her split second of hesitation before she answered. “He works for the family. But he owes me a favor.”
Interesting. I wondered how important he was to the family. Would they be pissed if I killed him? I was already in enough hot
water that murdering someone probably wouldn’t change the outcome of what they had planned for me.
“I need a phone,” I said quietly, focusing back on Mar.
“No,” King snapped. “We don’t need anyone tailing us.”
I straightened up. “I’m not calling for help. I just need to make one fucking call.”
“To check on your girl?” King taunted, a cruel smirk on his lips. “Not sure she’ll want to talk to you after you left her there.”
“Thanks to you,” I snarled. My chest tightened, his words hitting me like a wall. What if he was right? What if Rynn thought I’d
just abandoned her? I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the chance to explain it now.
That was exactly why I wanted a phone. I wasn’t going to risk my family finding out about Ellie. She couldn’t help me. I
wanted to call Jace and see if he knew where Rynn was and if she was safe.
“I didn’t bring a phone,” Mar informed me. “I didn’t want anyone tracking me. I’m supposed to be on the other side of the
country right now. I wanted to see you before they took you back.”
“Let me walk away, Mar,” I murmured, keeping my voice low. “You know if I go back, I’m as good as dead.”
Her eyes clouded with regret. “I can’t. You know that.”
“Why?” I bit out. “No one knows you’re here. My escape will fall on that prick.”
“Why didn’t you reach out?” Her question veered the conversation down a road that I really didn’t want to talk about with King
listening to every word. “You just disappeared.”
Guilt flooded me, and I grasped her wrist, pulling her around her SUV. “I tried convincing you to leave with me. You pretty
much told me to fuck off. That you loved this life. I wanted you to come with me. You know that.”
“I know,” she mumbled as she crossed her arms. “Back then…I still thought I was loved.”
I bit my tongue, catching the hurt in her tone even as she tried smothering it. She had been the golden child. Her father doted on
her, gave in to her every whim, while pinning the harshness of that life on me and his two sons. Mar got everything she wanted,
and she thought our lifestyle was the dream. I’d tried warning her it would change when we got older. It was the reason I
wanted her to leave with me. But she refused.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I couldn’t chance contacting you⁠—”
I cut myself off, glancing over my shoulder to see King watching us intently. My eyes grew cold, and I turned around, keeping
Mar behind me. He didn’t need to know anything. If I mentioned Ellie, he’d tell the family in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t do that to
her after everything she’d done for me.
“Time to go,” King said, waving the gun in my direction. “Don’t make this difficult.”
Mar began arguing, wanting more time, but King ignored her, keeping his glare on me. He stepped closer with the gun raised,
and the second he was within arm’s reach, I dove at him. I went for his wrist first, shoving the gun away from me before
kneeing him the stomach. He was already swinging his fist toward my face, but I ducked, ramming my shoulder into him to
knock him off balance.
“Stop,” Mar screamed from behind me.
King let out a laugh when I tore the gun from his grip. His reaction had anger flushing through me as I jammed the barrel into
his chest.
“Don’t kill him,” Mar shrieked, coming beside me where I could see her.
The worry in her voice had me glancing at her. She schooled her expression, but her body was radiating tension as her eyes
darted between me and King.
“Oh my fuck,” I grumbled. “Please tell me that you’re not with this piece of shit.”
King’s eyes glittered with dark amusement, but he stayed silent, letting Mar answer. My finger stayed on the trigger, and I was
seconds from ending him. If he was sleeping with my sister, that only added to the reasons I wanted to kill him.
“I’m not with him. He’s loyal to me,” Mar gritted out. “I don’t have many people in my life who keep my secrets from the
family. Please. I need him if I ever want to get out.”
“I can help you get out,” I snapped. “You don’t need him.”
“You need me,” King drawled, his smug smirk making me want to pull the fucking trigger. “If I don’t bring you back, then they’ll
take the girl. You think those two gangs fighting for her would be able to keep us from her?”
I went still, my heart pounding against my ribs as I glared at him. Ellie might be able to protect Rynn—if she knew there was a
threat. But no one knew where I was or who I was with. Rynn would have no idea someone other than Grimrose or the
Disciples wanted her, and that would make it easy for them to get her. I couldn’t chance it.
I lowered the gun, and King laughed until I rammed my fist into his jaw. He shook his head and rubbed his chin as his fury-
filled eyes locked on mine. Oh, this was far from fucking over, and we both knew it. The second Rynn was safe from them, I
was putting a bullet in his fucking skull.
“Hey.” Mar grabbed my arm. “Don’t piss them off. Don’t give them any more reasons to kill you.”
I gave her a small grin that I hoped came off as reassuring. “I’ll be fine. If the family wanted me dead, they would have done it
already.”
She frowned but didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. The family could do a lot worse than kill me. And after I’d just
disappeared, I had a feeling that was exactly what they were going to do.
“Let’s go.” King raised the handcuffs. “Turn around.”
I clenched my teeth, rage tearing through me. Rynn was the only reason I slowly complied and turned to fully face Mar. She
gave me quick hug, guilt covering her features for a second before she swallowed it. There was no reason for her to feel guilty.
I’d gotten myself into this by running away all those years ago.
King tightened the cuffs to the point of near pain, and I flipped my tongue ring, staying silent, not wanting to give him any
satisfaction. Once the cuffs were locked, he dropped a hand on my shoulder, trying to push me toward the car.
“I’m glad I got to see you,” I said gruffly, looking at Mar. “Now go. Don’t get in trouble because of me.”
“Maybe I’ll see you back home,” she said quietly.
Doubtful. No way would I be welcomed back with open arms after I’d run. Not that I had a chance to tell her, even if I wanted
to, since King spun me around and forced me back into the passenger seat of the sedan. I hit the back of my head on the seat as I
watched Mar climb back into her SUV. I kept looking out the window, even as I heard King get into the driver’s seat. Mar
backed out first, and after a couple of silent minutes, King reversed until we were out of the garage.
“You don’t tell anyone about this,” King threatened as he pulled back onto the road.
I turned my head and gave him a mocking smirk that had him scowling. I wouldn’t say anything to get my sister in trouble, but
he didn’t know that. I seriously fucking hoped he was threatening me because he worked for Mar and not for any other reason. I
would hate to break her heart when I killed him.
“I could have shot you and I didn’t.” I shifted my arms, shaking the cuffs. “So are these really necessary?”
“No, they’re not,” he replied, side-eyeing me. “You shouldn’t have fucking hit me.”
“I’ll do a lot worse once I’m free,” I muttered under my breath.
I was sure he heard me, but he didn’t answer as he drove. I sagged in the seat, keeping my stare on the windshield. Rynn took
over my mind, making my stomach twist with a slew of emotions. Guilt. Worry. Regret. I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again.
I only hoped she got away from the gangs in Pacific Point.
 C HAPTER THREE

“F UCK,” I muttered, slamming open the door of the pool house. I scanned the empty space, taking a full breath for the first time
in hours. Chris’s property and house were crawling with Disciples, and this was the first time I was alone since this entire
shitty night started. Chris had ordered his men to take Rynn into the house, and he told me to make sure security was up to speed
with what was happening, which meant I couldn’t follow to see where they’d taken her.
I pulled out the pack of cigarettes I’d snagged from Pratt and stared at it for a moment before pulling one out and putting it to
my lips. I was getting as bad as Gage when it came to this damn habit. But, fuck, I needed something right now and couldn’t
afford to get high with everything happening.
After lighting the cigarette, I tossed the pack on the closest table before pacing around the pool. I had no fucking idea where
Rynn was in the house, but I was sure wherever she was, Chris had multiple men keeping an eye on her. Even if she came
willingly, he was still going to make sure she couldn’t leave. She hadn’t spoken a word on the short drive from the club to the
house, and since Chris had been in the car, I couldn’t talk to her.
What the hell was she thinking? She had an out. She could have walked out of that club with Mili and Vanessa at her side. Chris
wasn’t stupid enough to start a war with them right now. Not when he’d just fucked up his truce with Grimrose. I blew out a
lungful of smoke, thinking of Kian. No doubt he was in the basement. Guilt slithered through me. I couldn’t help him right now,
even if I wanted to.
If Chris got the slightest idea that I was worried about Rynn or Kian, I’d be just as fucked as both of them. I froze, staring at the
water in the pool. I was worried about Kian. When the fuck did that start happening?
My mind went to the other guy who I shouldn’t give a fuck about. Where the hell was Gage? I’d seen him and Rynn disappear
down a hall in the club before I lost sight of them. He should have been able to get her out.
After taking one last drag of the cigarette, I stubbed it out in an ashtray. The entire conversation at the club wouldn’t leave my
fucking head. Chris was Rynn’s father. That entire situation was so fucked. Chris wanted her as a pawn before this, and now he
was never going to let her go. There wasn’t a bone in his body that cared for his offspring, but using her for his agenda? He
would kill her if he thought it would help get what he wanted.
The door of the pool house slammed open, and my heart dipped when Chris strode inside, meeting my gaze.
“There you are,” he said, dropping into a chair. “Sit down. We need to talk.”
Panic slithered through me, and I stiffly fell into the chair across from him. Even with everything that had happened tonight, I
knew he wouldn’t forget about what he’d learned. That Rynn was the girl from that summer. And I’d hid it from him. Add that
to the fact that she cared enough for me that she didn’t want me dead, and I was sure he was pissed. Danger lurked in Chris’s
eyes as he stared at me, and I knew tonight was only going to get worse.
“Tell me everything about her,” he murmured, lightly drumming his fingers on the table. “Because after tonight, I feel like you
haven’t been completely honest. And I don’t fucking like lies, Jace. You know that.”
My stomach churned as my mind raced. If he found out that I cared for Rynn, both she and I would be even more fucked than
right now.
“We tried taking campus from her,” I said, keeping my stare on him. “That didn’t work. So I went about it a different way.”
He tilted his head, looking curious. “A different way?”
“She has too much power to force her out.” I paused, wondering if I could spin this to make it believable. “Kian and I decided
to see if we could earn her trust.”
“You and Kian?”
My jaw clenched. “We were at peace with them. I had no idea what you were going to do tonight. Working with Kian was the
only way to get it to work.”
Chris frowned, his annoyance growing. “Get what to work?”
“She fucked me over that summer, as well as Kian, and then threatened us to keep us quiet.” I repeated Rynn’s words, the lies
burning my tongue. “She’s smart. And has powerful allies. There was no beating her using threats. We decided to make her
believe we cared for her.”
He raised an eyebrow, his expression giving nothing away. My pulse was thudding, and I hoped to fuck he bought this. Because
if he didn’t, then he wouldn’t let me anywhere near Rynn. If he even had a clue that I was worried for her, he’d use it against
both of us.
“We got close to her. Pretended we forgave her for it all.” I pulled out another cigarette and lit it. “If we didn’t, we knew it
was only a matter of time before she tried forcing us off campus. She believed us and started opening up. Trusting us.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to see if it would work first,” I replied with a shrug. “No point in sharing if it was going to fail.”
His stare was penetrating, as if he was trying to get into my head. My eyes stayed locked on his as I took a drag of the cigarette.
“I don’t like secrets,” he finally said, leaning back in the chair. “But I can’t deny that it worked. She didn’t hide her panic when
I had a gun aimed at your heart.”
It took everything not to react to his words. I wouldn’t put anything past him. He’d kill me in a heartbeat if I became useless.
“And Kian?” he asked. “You two back to being friends?”
“No,” I answered sharply. “I just needed him to go along with it so Rynn would trust us.”
“Good to hear.” He stood up, nodding at me to do the same. “These next few days are going to make or break us. We need to
make sure nothing gets in the way of my plan.”
“And what is your plan?” I questioned as I fell into step with him. We walked out of the pool house, heading down the
cobblestone path.
“That all depends on the DNA test. She was already swabbed. We rushed the results.”
“And if she is your daughter?” I forced out, the knots in my stomach tightening.
“Then she’ll help me take what I want.”
“I don’t think it’ll be that easy,” I muttered.
He suddenly spun around, grabbing the collar of my shirt with both hands, and slammed me into the wall of the house. The
cigarette fell from my fingers as I gritted my teeth, not fighting back while he got in my face. His fist slammed into my jaw a
second later, and pain spasmed through my cheek. He gripped my shirt again, pushing me back into the bricks.
“I can’t afford to question if you’ll back me,” he hissed, his eyes gleaming with anger. “You keeping shit from me is not how
this fucking works. I don’t like being taken by surprise. You want to plan something, you run it by me. Especially when it comes
to her. Do you fucking understand?”
“I got it,” I gritted out. Chris needed to believe that I was doing all of this for him. I had no one to fall back on. Nowhere to
fucking go, even if I wanted. Gage wasn’t answering his phone. Kian was worse off than me. Rynn was trapped. The new ink
on my back didn’t mean shit. If I tried going to the Underground for help, they’d probably torture me worse than they did the
first time. Plus, I wasn’t fucking leaving this house unless Rynn was with me.
He slowly released my shirt and stepped back, a sinister grin growing on his face. Apprehension filled me as I stayed against
the wall, waiting for him to say whatever was on his mind.
“Your new stepsister is upstairs right now,” he murmured. “I want you to go talk to her.”
Ignoring what he’d just called her, I asked, “Talk about what?”
“I want proof,” he snapped. “That she cares for you. Because we’ll need it if she’s really with the Underground.”
“She tried shooting you at the club,” I said tightly. “Is that not enough?”
“I want you to fuck her.”
Lead filled my veins. That was about the last thing I’d expected him to say.
“If I force her to do something like that, she won’t give a shit about me,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
“I didn’t say to do that.” He raised an eyebrow. “Show me that she wants you. Trusts you. Prove that she thinks you’re her safe
haven here.”
“Okay,” I said slowly.
“There are cameras in her room.”
It took everything to hide my disgust as he eyed me.
“Even I have my limits,” he continued. “I’m not going to watch. But I have trusted men who will.”
“I’m not going to be watched,” I snapped, losing my calm. “That’s fucked, Chris.”
I saw his hit coming from a mile away, but I didn’t make a move to block it when his knuckles slammed into my jaw again. Pain
radiated through my face, and I swallowed the absolute loathing I had for this bastard.
“No, what’s fucked is that girl is the reason you’re keeping secrets from me. You should have told me she was the girl from that
summer,” he snarled furiously. “I don’t give a shit if she’s my daughter. Right now, she’s the one who holds the cards for us to
expand. And to make sure the Underground doesn’t touch us. She made the decision to come back with me when we all know
she didn’t have to. If it’s because she has a connection to you or Kian, you better fucking believe I’ll use it.”
The absolute determination on his face made bile rise in my throat. He would do whatever he needed to get the power he
craved. No matter who it hurt. Right now, Rynn was at the center of it all.
Chris sighed, swiping a hand over his hair before studying me. “You say that she fell for you.”
“Yes,” I gritted out. “Kian and I made her think we cared about her.”
“And do you?”
My heart stuttered. “Do I what?”
“Do you care for her?”
That one question had panic smothering me. Not worry for myself, but for Rynn. If Chris ever guessed that I was protecting her,
he wouldn’t hesitate. I really didn’t give a shit what happened to me, but he’d use me to hurt her.
“No,” I answered, my voice steady. “She’s fucked me over again and again. She means nothing to me.”
He chuckled darkly. “I really hope you’re telling the truth.”
“I am,” I hissed. “I’m a Disciple. I don’t give a fuck about a girl who tried destroying us.”
“Good.” He backed up a step. “It’s good to hear how dedicated you are, Jace. We really don’t want a repeat of what happened
when you tried leaving a few years ago.”
His threat had rage ripping through me. After everything went to shit between me and Kian, I’d left Pacific Point. I had freedom
for a whole four days before Chris caught up to me. His punishment put me in the hospital for a week, and he made sure to keep
up the painful lessons for months after.
“If I find out you’re lying, I’ll hurt her worse than I did you,” he murmured, his voice lethal. “And I’ll make you watch.”
I stayed absolutely still, keeping the mask of indifference on before jerking a nod. “She’s nothing but a pawn. Whatever you
want me to do, I’ll do it.”
“Good.” He motioned for me to go into the house. “We need to strategize against Grimrose. Then I’ll show you the room she’s
in.”
Defeat crawled through me as I walked. What the fuck was I supposed to do now? If I didn’t go into her room and sleep with
her, then Chris would hurt her because he’d know I felt some sort of way about her. But I wasn’t sure I could go in there and
have sex with her knowing Chris’s men were watching. I couldn’t fucking do that to her.
She needed to get out of this house, but right now, that was impossible. Half of the gang was on the property. I wanted to
fucking kill Chris so he wouldn’t have a chance to go near Rynn. But he had loyal men here. I kill him, and they’d step up
before I’d be able to get her out.
But I was going to get her away from Chris. Away from it all. He wasn’t going to fucking touch her.
 C H A P T E R FO U R

I PACED the tiny room again, anger bubbling through me as I stared at the locked door. Chris’s men brought me straight to the
basement, locking me in here without so much as a word. Other than a cot, the space was empty. Not that it was large enough to
fit anything else. I glanced at the small window for a third time, seeing that it was still dark out. I doubted I’d been in here long,
but it felt like fucking hours.
I wasn’t even sure where Rynn was. She was still in the club when they shoved me into a car with a fucking bag over my head
and drove away. Hopefully, she walked out with Mili and Vanessa. If she was in Pacific Point with Chris…I shook my head,
not wanting to think about it. My dad was bad. Chris was much fucking worse.
A wave of nerves swept through me when I thought of my dad. I didn’t know if he was dead or alive. Nick had gotten him out,
but Disciples surrounded me before I could follow. Was I a shit son for being more worried about Rynn than my own father?
After everything he did to my mom, and now to Rynn, he fucking deserved whatever he got. Though it pissed me right off
thinking it was Chris who might have killed him.
I had no idea what this meant for Grimrose now. Or the Disciples. Little Haven wasn’t even at the top of the list anymore. Not
if both gangs were at war. Which was absolutely what was happening after my dad got shot. Nick would be gunning for Chris
and Pacific Point. Hopefully, he would make a deal to get me the fuck out of here.
Out of everyone who could help Rynn, Jace was the best bet. He had free rein in this house and on this side of the city. I
believed he cared for her. But was it enough for him to stand up to Chris? That I wasn’t so sure about, and it had my pulse
thudding. He hated Chris, but he feared him too. He had good reasons for that, but Chris was going to drag him down if he
didn’t start fighting back.
Jace had stood next to Chris at the club after my dad was shot, and I couldn’t blame him for that. When it came to our gangs, he
would stand with the Disciples like I would with Grimrose. But if he chose his gang over helping Rynn, then he would be dead
to me. Over the last couple months, I’d seen him change, reminding me of how he was before everything happened when we
were fifteen. I only hoped I was right that he wanted to protect Rynn like I did.
I lifted my head when the deadbolt slid a couple of seconds before the door was pushed open. I let my face grow cold, and I
straightened my spine as I glared at the two Disciples standing in the doorway.
I recognized the one who was aiming the gun at me. His name was Pete, and he was Chris’s second, like Nick was to my dad.
He usually stayed in the shadows, but I’d seen him enough to know he was nearly as bad as Chris. His light brown hair was
slicked back, and his brown eyes gleamed with malice as he jerked the gun, silently ordering me to leave the room.
I couldn’t deny the slice of panic that hit me as I stepped into the hall, but I swallowed it, refusing to give them any emotion. I
didn’t think Chris would kill me. But I also never expected him to shoot my dad.
I went rigid when something rough slipped over my head, and I moved to rip it off until I felt the barrel of a gun press against
my ribs.
“Keep it on,” Pete ordered. “Let’s go.”
They pushed me forward, one of them keeping a tight grip on my arm as I walked blindly. It was the same type of cloth bag
they’d put on me in the car when I was taken from the club. They didn’t want me to know where I was. Although I had a feeling
I was at Chris’s main house, since it had the most security.
We climbed some stairs, and after walking a bit longer, we went up another flight of steps. There were quiet voices
surrounding me, but their conversations always halted before I could catch a word. Tension was radiating through me, knowing
I didn’t have a damn chance of getting out of here on my own. I didn’t have to look to know that I was severely outnumbered.
There was a small click before I was shoved forward so hard that I stumbled. A small gasp filtered through the air in front of
me, and I tore the cloth off my head now that I didn’t have a gun on me.
My stomach fell when I raised my gaze to the person in front of me. Panic tightened my chest as I stared at Rynn. She was
wearing the same dress she had on in the club, and my eyes drifted down her body. I didn’t see any physical marks or bruises
on her, and although that calmed me down a bit, I still couldn’t fucking believe she was here.
“Kian—”
Pete cut her off. “Sit in the chair.”
I glanced over my shoulder to see that his gun was pointed at me again, and I clenched my jaw. Whatever he was doing was
under Chris’s orders. Why had they brought me to Rynn?
Pete strode into the room, and I whirled around, keeping myself between him and Rynn. He didn’t stop until he was right in
front of me, and he rammed the gun into my chest.
“In the chair,” he gritted out. “Now.”
Two more men were standing in the open doorway of the room. One of them had a bag, and they both walked closer, keeping
their eyes on me. My chest heaved as I backed up with Pete following me. The room was large, but as I quickly glanced
around, I noticed there were only a couple of pieces of furniture. A queen-size bed was against the back wall, and there were
no blankets on it, only a white fitted sheet with a couple of pillows.
A dresser was on the side wall, next to the oversized blue cloth chair that Pete was leading me to. There was a window on
either side of the bed, and I could see the locks on them from here.
Once I was in front of the chair, Pete shoved me down. Rynn was staring at us, shifting on her feet, looking just as hesitant as I
felt. She had no idea why I was in here. I wasn’t about to try and fight my way out of this when she was right here. There was
no way I’d get past all the Disciples I’d heard downstairs anyway.
“Put your arms on the armrests,” Pete ordered.
When I didn’t move, he raised the gun, and I readied myself for the pain when he swung it toward my face. Only it didn’t come.
Rynn’s hand came out of nowhere, and she gripped Pete’s wrist, yanking him away.
“Don’t,” she hissed in a furious voice. “Or you’ll regret it.”
I shot to my feet, only for the two other men to get in my way before I could reach Rynn. One of them had a knife in his hand,
and he pressed it to my throat, making me go still.
“You gonna kill me?” I asked gruffly. “Then you’ll have nothing to keep Grimrose off your back.”
“We already shot your dad,” the guy sneered, keeping the blade to my throat hard enough to break skin. “What makes you think
we won’t do the same to you? Sit the fuck back down.”
He and the other guy didn’t wait for me to comply, forcing me back in the chair. One kept the knife on me while the other zip-
tied my wrists to the armrests of the chair. He crouched down to secure my ankles too, and I resisted the urge to kick him in the
fucking face. I wasn’t going to attempt anything until I had a sure way out with Rynn. If I fought, they might not keep me in here
with her.
Ignoring how tight the zip ties were, I looked back at Rynn and Pete, who were still in a tense standoff. He finally ripped his
arm from her hold before shoving his gun in his waistband. A snarl burned my throat when he suddenly lashed his hand out, his
fingers wrapping around her neck. I pulled against the zip ties, hating that I was fucking helpless.
Rynn’s eyes filled with loathing, but she didn’t fight him as he pushed her into the wall. Pete kept one hand around her throat,
and he rested the other on the wall next to her head as he leaned closer to her.
“You’re lucky that Chris put out orders not to hurt you,” Pete murmured, his voice dripping with threat. “But don’t get too
comfortable. Once you’re not useful anymore, that will change.”
“You should remember that I came here by choice.” Her voice was just as calm and controlled as her demeanor. “And if you so
much as fucking touch me, it won’t be Chris you’ll answer to. It will be the two women who have my back. And I swear that
their bite is worse than his.”
“You promised your father that you’d behave,” Pete said in a low voice. “Don’t get in my way again.”
Her face contorted with disgust for a split second before she covered it. “Get your fucking hand off me.”
Pete slowly pulled his hand from her throat, and she stayed against the wall as he backed away. His eyes flicked toward the
door, and I followed his gaze, realizing there was a camera above it, which I was sure had a view of the entire room.
“You two have a good rest of your night,” Pete said with a mocking grin.
He and the other two men left the room, closing the door behind them. Rynn glared at the door when the lock clicked before she
pushed off the wall and crossed the room toward me.
“Rynn. Please tell me you didn’t volunteer to be here,” I ground out, trying to keep my panic to myself.
She shrugged. “Chris told me he’d tell me about my mother. I’ll be leaving soon.”
I glanced at the camera again, knowing she wouldn’t share the truth if she didn’t want the Disciples to know. I needed to be
careful what I said in here.
“He’s not going to just let you go,” I muttered.
She crouched in front of me, letting her hands fall to my thighs. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” As much as I wished she wasn’t here with Chris, it was nice to be with her. “Have you seen Jace?”
She shook her head. “Not since we left the club.”
“Gage?”
I barely breathed out his name, hoping the mic on the camera didn’t catch it. Pain flared in her eyes, and she stood back up and
crossed her arms. My heart thudded from her reaction, wondering what the hell had happened to him.
“Did he not make it out?” I asked slowly. She cared for Gage, and I hoped, for her sake, he was still alive.
“He did,” she clipped out. “He’s not here.”
I frowned. He wouldn’t have left her unless he had no choice. “What happened?”
“He left.” She rubbed her hands down her face. “I’m sure he had a reason for it.”
“Left?” I asked, my anger growing. “He left you in the club and walked out?”
“Not exactly,” she mumbled. “I’m sure I’ll find out more once I’m back on campus.”
My jaw dropped. “Back on campus? You do know you’re not going back to school⁠—”
“I’m not running,” she cut me off, turning and looking straight at the camera. “Little Haven is mine.”
I bit my tongue to keep from voicing my thoughts. Pissing off Chris when she was in his house probably wasn’t the best idea,
but telling Rynn not to do something never ended well. She would always do things her way, which was something I loved
about her. I just didn’t want Chris’s anger focused on her.
She sat on the edge of the bed, facing me. The heels she was wearing earlier were now on the floor, and she looked exhausted
as she messed with the hem of her short dress.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” she mumbled, raising her eyes to mine.
I arched an eyebrow. “Really? You hate him, Rynn. Not that I blame you.”
“I’m sorry because you’re sad about it,” she corrected herself.
Was I? At the moment, I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t about to reveal anything about it with Chris listening in, though.
“I don’t even know if he’s dead,” I said, trying to twist my wrists out of the zip ties. “He’s probably alive and plotting.”
“Right.”
We lapsed into silence, and it wasn’t uncomfortable. Rynn was on edge, but she didn’t seem scared about being here. She
really believed Chris wouldn’t hurt her. Even if he did need her, I learned long ago to never trust him for shit. The second she
wasn’t needed, she’d be just as disposable as the rest of us.
“Maybe there’s something in the bathroom to cut those off you.” She eyed my restraints with a frown.
“Don’t bother.” I nodded toward the camera. “They’d only come back in to tie me up again. Or put me back in the basement.
I’m fine.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but instead, she stayed on the bed, keeping her stare on me.
“He won’t kill you,” she said, leaning back on her palms. “You’re going to walk out of this house with me.”
I sighed. “We’ll see.”
 C HAPTER FIVE

IT WAS impossible to know how long we’d been in the room, but after a while, I’d shut off the overhead light, while keeping
the one on in the bathroom so it wasn’t pitch black. The sky was still dark outside, and even though Kian had his eyes closed, I
doubted he was sleeping. He could barely sleep well in a bed, and I was sure that being tied to a chair wasn’t comfortable at
all.
I was lying on the bed, my head propped up by the two pillows. It was chilly, but since all I had was this dress, and there were
no blankets in the room, I couldn’t do anything about it. My body was exhausted, but my mind was still racing, and I stared at
the ceiling, crossing my arms. Kian wasn’t happy that I’d chosen to be here, and I didn’t blame him. Maybe it wasn’t the best
choice. But at least I knew he was still alive.
The sound of the door clicking open caught my attention, and I quickly sat up. Surprise hit me when I spotted Jace entering the
room. The bathroom light was bright enough for me to see his features, and when he spotted Kian, he froze, his eyes widening
slightly. I followed his gaze, seeing that Kian was still sleeping. Or pretending to sleep. If I’d heard the door, I was sure Kian
had too. Before I could say a word, Jace strode across the room and climbed onto the bed.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
He didn’t answer, his eyes locked on mine as he straddled my hips. He leaned over me, and I stayed still, unsure of what he
was doing.
“Are you okay?”
The concern in his voice contradicted the tension lining his face, and his eyes flicked toward Kian for a moment before
focusing back on me.
“Jace—”
My words caught in my throat when he lowered his head until his lips brushed my cheek. My palms flew to his chest, but he
snatched my wrists and pressed them into the mattress. He didn’t stop kissing me until his mouth was next to my ear.
“Hate me, Rynn,” he breathed out, the words barely audible. “Fight me. Scream that you don’t want me anymore.”
Ice flowed through my veins, and I jerked away, trying to meet his eyes. But he didn’t give me a chance, because a second later,
he smashed his lips to mine in a bruising kiss. Confusion rocked me as I struggled against his hold on my wrists. This kiss
wasn’t right. It felt like the one we shared when we were in the pool house the day that Chris took Gage.
When eyes were on us.
I stiffened, remembering the camera. I was positive we were being watched right now. And with how quietly Jace said those
words, he knew it too. He lifted his lips from my mouth before he nipped at my earlobe.
“Choose Kian,” he whispered in a strangled voice. “Tell me you’re choosing your husband. That you want nothing to do with
me.”
“What are you⁠—”
“I’m sorry they locked you in here,” Jace cut me off, his words louder this time. “I wanted to come earlier.”
I stared at him as he peered down at me, and I realized he wasn’t here because he wanted to be. No, Chris had put him up to
this. I just didn’t understand why. My gut knotted when he tilted his head, and I spotted his swollen jaw. He hadn’t had that
injury at the club.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I turned my head to see Kian glaring at Jace as he tugged against the zip ties. The chair was only a few feet away, and with the
bathroom light on, he had the perfect view of the bed.
“I’m making sure my girl is okay,” Jace said without looking away from me. “Let me take your stress away, baby.”
To anyone else, Jace’s words would seem sincere and caring. But I knew better. He didn’t want to be in this room right now. I
sucked in a breath when a new thought entered my mind. Chris had found out I had feelings for Jace at the club. I knew he’d try
to use that connection at some point, but not like this.
“Is he watching?” I hissed in disgust, trying to escape Jace’s hold.
“No, he’s not,” Jace answered, his eyes pleading with me to go along with what he wanted. “I came in here for you.”
I didn’t know how good the mics were on the camera, and I wanted my next words to only be for Jace, but he wasn’t letting me
move an inch. Kian stayed silent, but his entire body was rigid as he watched.
I let out a cry when Jace suddenly climbed off me and pulled me with him. He carried me a couple of feet until my back was
pressed against the wall. He stayed standing in front of me, and I realized at this angle that his body was hiding mine from the
camera.
His hand grasped my hip as he lowered his head and kissed me again. He swept his tongue hesitantly into my mouth as if
waiting for me to push him away. But I didn’t. I deepened the kiss even when he tensed.
Because fuck me, I trusted him.
He’d spent hours getting tortured by my organization, and he didn’t say a word. Even if he didn’t have the ink on his back, I
trusted that he would protect me like he had been for the last few months. He hadn’t told Chris anything about me. I didn’t think
he’d start now.
And if he did choose Chris over me?
Then it didn’t matter what I did because it would fucking hurt either way. But both Chris and Hayes knew I cared for Jace and
Kian. There was no taking that back anymore. No hiding it.
Jace broke the kiss, dragging his tongue up my throat until he could whisper in my ear. “Stop me, Rynn. Tell me to leave. He’s
not watching. But others are, and I’m not going to do this to you.”
My stomach tightened, my skin crawling from the thought of others watching this. But I still didn’t shove him away. Instead, I
put my arms around his neck, jumping up until my legs were wrapped around his waist. He instantly grabbed my ass, holding
me up while my back stayed against the wall.
“No, I won’t stop you,” I breathed out before burying my face in the crook of his neck. “He wants you to do this.”
Jace stayed silent, his fingers digging into my ass as I kissed the side of his neck. His rigid demeanor was all I needed to know
I was right. I was talking so quietly I didn’t even think Kian could hear us from where he sat. But his eyes never left me as I
raised my mouth back to Jace’s ear.
“And what happens to you if you don’t do what he wants?” I asked, already knowing the answer. “He’ll hurt you.”
“I’ll be fine,” he hissed under his breath, keeping his next words just as quiet. “You don’t need to be deeper in this than you
already are. Tell me you want only Kian. That getting married changed your feelings, and you don’t want me anymore.”
“No.”
He pressed me harder against the wall, making it look like he was kissing my throat. “I told him I don’t care about you. That
you’re nothing to me. If I stop and walk out, then he’ll know that’s not true. So fucking stop me.”
“I want you, Jace.” I raised my voice, ignoring his shocked glare as I spoke. “I want you and Kian. Both of you.”
“Fuck,” Jace growled, his eyes searching mine. “He’ll use this. Use me against you.”
“I don’t care.”
I couldn’t deny the nerves, but I wasn’t about to push Jace away when I knew that Chris would be pissed if I did. I could
handle Chris. Whether he knew I cared for Jace or not. I wasn’t about to throw Jace under the bus to protect myself. Chris
wanted to know how strong our bond was so he could exploit it. This was a fucked-up way to test that, but I wasn’t going to
stop Jace. Not when I knew Chris would punish him if he didn’t follow his demands.
“Make me feel good,” I ordered. “It’s been a shit night, and I want you to make it better.”
“Say it,” he demanded in a hushed voice. “That you don’t want me.”
“I want you,” I countered, my eyes locked on his.
“Rynn,” Kian hissed. “Camera.”
The worry in his voice had Jace glancing at him, his jaw muscle flexing. I grabbed his face, forcing his attention back on me.
“I don’t care,” I said firmly. “Take me. Now.”
Before he could say a word, I kissed him, and his grip on me tightened as his control snapped. I nipped on his bottom lip, and
he let out a groan, pressing his body against mine. A thumping noise had me opening my eyes, and I saw Kian attempting to turn
the chair to face us. He nearly tipped over but righted himself as he pulled against the zip ties keeping his wrists trapped.
I almost asked Jace if he had a knife to free Kian but held back. This was orchestrated by Chris, and I wasn’t about to piss him
off even more. Not when Jace would be the one dealing with him.
“Sit down, Rynn,” Jace murmured against my lips.
Before I could understand what he meant, he pulled me away from the wall, and dropped me in Kian’s lap. The chair was
facing away from the camera which meant nothing could be seen from where I was sitting. My back rested against Kian’s chest,
and I felt his body stiffen as Jace dropped to his knees in front of me. I stared down at him, nonplussed. I expected him to just
fuck me against the wall. Not include Kian.
“Jace,” I choked out. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sure your husband would love to watch you come apart.” Jace lifted his eyes, looking behind me to Kian. “Too bad he’s
tied up at the moment, or I’d offer to let him join.”
I didn’t need to look at Kian to know that Jace’s words pissed him off. He yanked against the restraints, letting out a snarled
curse. Since Jace’s words were loud, I was positive he was doing this for show. Letting Chris hear that he was purposefully
getting under Kian’s skin. Though I wasn’t sure Kian was thinking clearly enough to understand that.
“Don’t be an asshole,” Kian gritted out.
Jace raised his hands to my thighs, slowly trailing under my dress. “I’m not. I could have taken her into the bathroom or
somewhere you couldn’t follow. I’m letting you watch. I am being nice.”
“You’re spending too much time with Gage,” Kian muttered under his breath. “Dick.”
A small laugh escaped me until Jace’s fingers reached my pussy, and I sucked in a breath. My gaze dropped, locking on to his
as he slowly circled my clit. His gaze was dark with both lust and indecision, and it wasn’t lost on me that he hated that there
was a camera on us.
“What do you think she wants, Kian?” Jace asked in a low voice. “Fast or slow?”
Silence hung in the air for a few moments, and I squirmed against Kian when Jace pinched my clit. Heat pooled in my lower
stomach, and not even the camera was stopping my need from growing at his touch.
“Slow,” Kian answered gruffly, his tone still tense. But I could feel his dick growing hard underneath me.
Jace grinned, keeping his strokes soft and drawn out. My head rested against Kian’s shoulder, and I turned slightly, staring up at
his face. He couldn’t look down at me without bending at an awkward angle, but he was focused on what Jace was doing to
me.
“I disagree,” I breathed out, rocking my hips. “I want faster.”
Jace tsked. “I didn’t ask you. Kian gets to tell me what to do to you.”
My argument died in my throat when he decided to push two fingers into me. His thumb brushed over my clit, every swipe
slowly deliberate, and I pressed my lips together, swallowing my moan.
“Fuck,” Kian breathed out. I realized my movements were affecting him, and I purposely ground against him more as Jace
fingered me.
“Mouth or fingers?” Jace questioned, his eyes staying on mine. But it wasn’t my answer he wanted.
Kian groaned. “Mouth. You’re right, Rynn. It’s been a shit night. Hearing you come will definitely make it better.”
My face flushed, the hair on my neck prickling from knowing the camera was on my back. I tried not to think about who was
watching as Jace pushed the dress higher up my thighs. His movements were slow, as if waiting for me to stop him, but I kept
his stare, not saying a word. I had no doubt that his tongue would make me forget about the fucking camera. I’d find a way to
get rid of the video at some point. But that problem could wait until tomorrow.
“Don’t make me wait,” I demanded, thrusting up my hips.
“Mm,” Jace mused. “That’s up to Kian.”
“Make her scream.”
At Kian’s words, Jace grabbed my thighs, pulling me down a little before putting my legs on his shoulders. My hands landed on
Kian’s arms, but Jace’s tight grip made sure I wasn’t going anywhere.
He dropped his head, and I felt the warmth of his breath a second before he attacked my clit. He licked and sucked with a
savage hunger that had me chasing every breath. Pleasure rolled through me, and when he released one of my legs to plunge
two fingers inside me, I let out a cry, writhing against Kian.
My noise reminded me that this entire thing wasn’t a private moment, and that thought had me losing concentration. My nails
dug into Kian’s skin, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to only focus on his mouth. It felt fucking amazing, but I couldn’t get
the camera out of my head.
“She needs more,” Kian rasped, his voice barely in control. “Find her G-spot.”
Jace didn’t lift his mouth from me, but he curled his fingers, pushing them deeper into me. His tongue flicked my clit, shooting
jolts of pleasure through me, and I ground my pussy against his face. His fingers pumped in and out, each time hitting a slightly
different spot.
My scream pierced the air when he hit the spot that made me jerk in his hold. Jace made a noise of satisfaction as he renewed
his efforts, fingers hitting that sensitive spot every time they plunged back into me.
“There it is,” Kian murmured. “Don’t hold back, Rynn. Let Jace hear how good he’s making you feel.”
“So…fucking good,” I moaned out hoarsely.
Jace sucked on my clit, his tongue drawing my orgasm closer. Everything faded from my mind as pleasure overwhelmed it all. I
was a writhing mess, unable to stay still as he hit my G-spot again and again, all while my clit got the attention I needed.
“Fuck,” I cried, the waves of pleasure hitting me nonstop. “Yes. Right there.”
Jace buried his fingers inside me, his tongue not halting the frantic strokes as my orgasm exploded. My entire body filled with
pleasure, my muscles tightening as I rode it out.
“You look so goddamn sexy when you come,” Kian breathed out.
Jace finally pulled his mouth from me, his lips wet and glistening. He let my legs drop from his shoulders, tugging down my
dress as he stood up. I didn’t have a chance to get off Kian before he leaned over me and grabbed the back of my neck, bringing
my face to his. He kissed me deeply, pushing his tongue into my mouth, and I could taste myself on his lips.
He pulled me off Kian, not breaking the kiss until I was standing up. I moved to wipe my mouth, but he caught my wrist, giving
me a wicked grin.
“Let him taste you,” Jace ordered, spinning me around.
I met Kian’s heated gaze, and Jace nudged me forward until my hands fell on Kian’s shoulders, and I was leaning over him.
“You heard him, Rynn. Let me taste you,” Kian said thickly, his eyes trailing down my body.
I didn’t hesitate, pressing my lips to his. He groaned, his tongue clashing with mine as we kissed. I climbed into his lap,
running my hands through his hair, letting him control the kiss until both of us were heaving for breath.
I reluctantly pulled away, and when he strained against the zip ties, a slice of guilt cut through me. It was bullshit that he was
trapped in that chair. That Chris was controlling all of this. Anger danced in my veins as I glanced at the camera. I’d make sure
Chris paid for this too.
“Come on,” Jace said quietly. “Let’s go to bed.”
I spun around, a frown forming on my lips. “I thought you wanted sex⁠—”
“No,” he cut me off, his eyes darting to the camera. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me off Kian. His hand tangled in
my hair, and he kissed me softly on the throat while speaking in a whisper. “That’s enough. If we were anywhere else, I’d
already have you naked and sprawled on the bed. But I’m not giving the bastards a chance to see any part of you. Chris can get
the fuck over it. He got what he wanted. Fucking disgusting prick.”
“You’re really going to leave me in the chair?” Kian ground out.
Jace shrugged. “I’m sure I’d be where you are if I was stuck with Grimrose.”
I didn’t miss the apologetic look Jace gave him when he turned his back to the camera. My heart swelled, knowing Jace would
help Kian if Chris wasn’t going to hear about it. Maybe this entire thing didn’t completely wreck any chance of a friendship.
Which was good because I still wanted both of them. Making Gage play nice with both of them was already a difficult enough
task.
Jace led me to the bed and climbed in with me. Kian’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say a word, watching as Jace wrapped his
arm around me, pulling my back to his chest. He buried his face in the crook of my neck.
“I’ll get you out of here,” he murmured in my ear.
I didn’t respond, my eyes staying on Kian. One way or another, we would all get out of here. Because I wouldn’t walk out of
this house without both of them.
 C HAPTER SIX

F UCK ME, I wasn’t ready for this.

I’d spent the last eight years staying far away from them, and now here I was, back in their clutches. In some random house a
few hours from Little Haven. I was in the middle of some kind of library where there was an open space surrounded by tall
bookshelves. Black leather chairs formed a semicircle behind me, but I was too on edge to sit down. Off to the side, there was
a small drink cart full of whiskey and clear liquor.
“Feel free to get a drink,” King drawled as he sat in one of the chairs behind me. “You might want one before they get here.”
I clenched my jaw, trying my fucking hardest not to turn around and hit him. My wrists were still aching from how tight he’d put
the handcuffs on. After seeing Mar, we’d driven another two hours before ending up at a huge mansion. I couldn’t believe the
family had a house out here that Ellie didn’t know about. We’d both been keeping tabs on their business, and there had been
nothing about them being in California.
Heavy footsteps had my stomach twisting almost painfully, and I turned around, meeting the eyes of the man I’d already guessed
would be here. Every single childhood memory with this asshole was smothered in hate and pain. Loathing burned through me,
and I straightened my spine, refusing to show him any weakness.
“Antonio. Wish I could say it was good to see you.”
“You leave the family to become this?” His brown eyes trailed over me, taking in my long hair, piercings, and tattoos with
disapproval sprawled all over his face. “What a fucking disgrace.”
“And how is that any different from the way you saw me as a kid?” I asked bitterly.
“You really don’t want to piss me off any more than you already have, boy.”
Antonio Ambrosi had always known how to tear me down, and he took pride in doing it every fucking chance he got. I didn’t
think he’d ever used my real name, as if that made me less of a real person to him. But I’d gotten rid of that name when I met
Ellie, just like everything else from my childhood. If I was still a kid, hearing that would have hit me like a punch to the gut.
But not anymore. I didn’t give a shit what this man or anyone else in this house thought about me. They were nothing to me
anymore. Other than Mar, I didn’t care about any of my so-called family.
“I know exactly what happens to people who cross you,” I snarled, squaring up to him and lifting my arms. “Fucking do it. Or
are you not up for it anymore, old man?”
Antonio studied me thoughtfully, not rising to the bait like I wanted. His dark brown hair was styled exactly how I remembered,
and his goatee was the same color. I could bet that his navy-blue suit was Italian made like all his other clothes were. His
features were strikingly similar to Mar’s, and it was a harsh reminder that she was related to him. He was the doting father to
her who made her refuse to leave this life with me, while he was worse than the fucking devil when it came to me.
He detested me because I wasn’t his blood. The only reason I was kept in the family was because my mother was just as
important as he was in our world. They wanted me to stay in the family. So I did, and Antonio made sure I fucking paid for it
every damn day.
“I want to know where you’ve been the last eight years,” Antonio murmured, scrubbing a hand down his beard. “And who
helped you get out of New York.”
My heart thudded as I sneered. “I have nothing to fucking say to you.”
“I can make you talk,” he growled, bumping his chest to mine.
“You couldn’t break me as a kid,” I shot back, anger coiling through me. “You think you can do it now? Go ahead and fucking
try.”
Antonio chuckled. “No need to do that.”
I stilled, my chest heaving as he backed away and went to the drink cart. He poured himself a whiskey as my mind raced. I
could deny it, but if King knew about Rynn, so did Antonio. And if I lied about it, he’d hurt her just to prove me wrong.
“Rynn Rhodes. Quite a beautiful girl, but evasive. And wanted by many, if my men’s information is correct.” Antonio faced me
as he sipped his whiskey. “The question is why?”
My eyes went over Antonio’s shoulder when three men stalked in. King came into sight when he walked to linger near the drink
cart. He met my gaze, his brown eyes hard and cold, before he turned away from me.
“Who is she?” Antonio pulled my attention back to him. “We have pictures of you two. You’ve been with her for months.”
“Someone who hired me. I was paid to protect her.”
“Protect her from Grimrose and the Disciples?”
“Yes,” I ground out, wondering how much he actually knew.
“She’s in Pacific Point right now. With the Disciples.”
Panic ripped through me, and the blood drained from my face, no matter how hard I tried to hide my reaction. Rynn was with
Chris? That shouldn’t have fucking happened. Even with me gone, Mili was supposed to be there, along with the Blood Kings.
She should have been able to walk away.
Antonio’s eyes flicked to King for a moment. “My men overheard that entire conversation in the club. She’s with the
Underground.”
I didn’t say a word, knowing what was coming next, and I had no idea how to answer it. If I lied, they’d go after Rynn. Fuck. I
couldn’t tell them about Ellie. Not after everything she’d done for me.
“Is that who you’re with?” Antonio asked, tilting his head. “Who helped you leave?”
“It’s who I’m with now,” I said in a gruff voice. “I left New York on my own.”
“Who is in charge?”
I shrugged. “No idea. I do grunt work. Like watching over a girl on a college campus.”
Antonio’s calculating stare stayed fixed on me, and I didn’t waver, glaring right back at him. It wouldn’t be a stretch for him to
figure out I was with the Underground too, but there was no way I’d be naming Ellie. He nodded to his men, making them close
in around me.
“Your mother is the only reason you’re not being dragged back to New York,” Antonio said with a frown. “But her family isn’t
very happy with you either. Especially your grandfather.”
Flipping my tongue ring was the only reaction I gave him. My grandfather, Adriano, was just as ruthless as Antonio, although he
wasn’t as bad toward me since he was on my mother’s side of the family. I’d only seen him a handful of times in my life before
I fled.
“But you’re in a position to help us get what we want,” Antonio continued as two of his men stepped behind me. I grew even
more on edge, not liking that they weren’t in view anymore. Antonio motioned to the last man who was standing next to him.
“This is Marco.”
I eyed Marco, taking in his stiff stance. His hair was jet black and longer on the top. I guessed he was Antonio’s age,
somewhere in his midforties. The glint of fear in his gaze told me that he wasn’t part of the family, but an employee. Someone
who knew death was certain if he fucked up.
“We know both gangs from Pacific Point are fighting for Little Haven. I’m guessing that the Underground is in the fight too.”
Antonio glanced at Marco. “But none of them will get it, because I want it. I want Marco to become the new dean of that little
school, and you’re going to make sure that happens. I’ll have someone ready to take on the police chief as well.”
“I don’t have that kind of pull in Little Haven,” I snapped. “I can’t do it.”
“You will fucking do it,” Antonio said, threat seeping into his voice. “I know you well enough to know that hurting you won’t
do much. But her? What will you do to protect her? Because believe me, we can get to her anywhere. You remember our reach,
don’t you?”
“Yes,” I bit out, forcing myself to stay still.
“Little Haven is perfect. Close to the water to make shipments easy. The ports at Pacific Point were shut down a few years ago,
which is half the reason those gangs want Little Haven.” Antonio backed away a couple of feet as he took another sip of his
drink. “Right on the highway. Everything about that city makes transit easy. And it’s right where we want to be. Marco better
get the job as dean. Or that girl you clearly care for will be on a plane to New York. And I can fucking promise you won’t see
her again.”
Ice crawled through my veins as I realized how badly I’d fucked up. I never should have gone to Little Haven.
“Even the Underground can’t protect her from us.” Antonio’s eyes met mine, the cruelness in them making me spiral back into
memories of my childhood. “We have eyes on her. She leaves Pacific Point or Little Haven, then we’ll take her.”
Bile rose in my throat, and red was lining my vision. Fuck, I wanted to kill him right here. But his death wouldn’t change
anything. If he wasn’t in charge, someone else who was just as bad would be.
No one messed with one of the New York Mafia families. Unfortunately for me, I was tied to two of those families. My mother
was a Galleta. A family name that was just as powerful as Antonio’s. And since my mother was married to Antonio, that made
him some sort of fucked-up father figure in my life. Though he’d never seen me as a son. When he looked at me, all he saw was
the son of the bastard who’d slept with his wife and gotten her pregnant.
I’d always known they’d find me at some point, but I never would have guessed that I would fall in love with a girl who I
cared for more than I did myself. I didn’t open up to anyone, but I did with her, without even realizing it. And now I’d pulled
her into the hell I’d run away from.
“You still have the phone that King gave you?” Antonio asked, breaking into my thoughts.
“Yes.”
“Keep it on you. I’ll be calling for updates and to give orders. I expect you to answer.” He rubbed the ring on his right ring
finger that had his family emblem on it. “You fuck this up, you’ll regret it worse than anything I made you do when you were a
child. Understand?”
I jerked a nod, not trusting my voice right now. I was so royally fucked, and I had no idea how I was going to get out of this. Or
keep Rynn safe.
“I don’t want anyone knowing we’re involved. Not a word to the girl or anyone else.”
Again, I nodded, not moving a muscle.
“But…” He trailed off, the dark mirth in his voice impossible to miss. “We need to make sure you have a cover story as to why
you just walked out of that club. Can’t raise suspicions, can we?”
I clenched my jaw, sensing the men coming closer from behind me. King was leaning against the drink cart, watching without a
speck of emotion on his face.
Antonio snapped his fingers. “I know. You’ll just say that you owed money to some dangerous people, and they came to collect.
Do you think you can sell that story?”
“Sure,” I clipped out, knowing it wouldn’t be that simple. Even if he was keeping me alive, there was no way I was leaving
here without some sort of punishment for running away all those years ago.
“Good.” Antonio looked past me to where his men were. “Make sure he’s still breathing when you’re done.”
He turned and strode out of the library with Marco on his heels. I tensed but didn’t attempt to move when one of the men moved
in front of me. He smirked maliciously, raising his hand until the brass knuckles were in clear view. I stared at him, feigning
disinterest, not giving him any of the fear he wanted.
He swung, and I braced myself before his hit connected with my ribs. Pain spasmed, and I backed up a step, running into the
man behind me. He hooked his arms under mine, keeping me in place while the brass knuckles hit me again and again.
These assholes wouldn’t stop until I was unconscious. I’d gotten my share of beatings when I was growing up, but it was the
things that Antonio made me do that really fucked with my head. I could handle pain.
What I couldn’t handle was the thought of Rynn being in their hands. I’d do what Antonio wanted for now. Until I had a sure
way to get her away from it all.
 C HAPTER SEVEN

S OMETHING STIRRED ME AWAKE, and I instantly stiffened, wondering when the hell I’d fallen asleep. An arm was around me,
and I glanced over my shoulder to see Jace still sleeping. His breathing was deep, his face more relaxed than it ever was when
he was awake. My eyes darted to where the chair was, my heart dropping when I saw it was empty with the cut zip ties on the
floor. Where was Kian? How did I not wake up to him being moved?
Someone cleared their throat from across the room, and my eyes cut toward the doorway to see Chris standing there. He jerked
his head, silently commanding me to follow him before he disappeared into the hallway. I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to
wake Jace up. If Chris wanted him awake, he wouldn’t have been quiet. Grabbing Jace’s wrist, I carefully lifted his arm just
enough for me to slip away from him and climb out of bed.
After one more look at the door, I turned and headed for the bathroom. Fuck Chris. He could wait. Taking my time, I got ready
before readjusting my short dress. I seriously needed a shower, but since I didn’t have any clean clothes, that would have to
wait. Running my fingers through my tangled hair, I pulled it into a ponytail, glad I had a hair tie on my wrist. I splashed water
on my face, attempting to scrub off the rest of my makeup. The black eyeliner was smeared, and after a couple of minutes, I
finally got most of it off.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped back into the bedroom and slipped my heels back on before heading toward the hall. I glanced
at Jace one more time, wishing we’d had a chance to talk. He was already on edge from what had happened last night, and I
had a feeling he was going to freak out when he woke up alone.
Chris was waiting for me, and once he saw me, he headed toward the stairs, clearly expecting me to follow him. Gritting my
teeth, I stayed a few feet behind him as we descended to the first floor. There were more than a few Disciples members
sprawled throughout the great room we went through. The furniture was all leather, and there was a pool table near the back
wall. Before I could study the area more, Chris moved through a pair of double doors, and we entered a dining room.
The oak table was long, with at least fifteen chairs around it. The middle of the table was full of breakfast food, along with
fresh fruit and bread. No one else was in the room, and Chris took a seat at the head of the table.
“You must be hungry, Rynn.” He finally spoke, motioning to the chair on his right. “You had a busy night.”
Nausea rolled my stomach at his words, knowing he was talking about what Jace and I had done, and not what had happened at
the club. Moving forward, I stiffly sat down in the chair he’d pointed out.
“The results came in an hour ago,” he stated, reaching for his cup of coffee. “You are, without a doubt, my daughter.”
“Great,” I muttered, dread crawling down my limbs. Raising my chin, I gazed at him coldly. “I’m here because you said you’d
tell me about my mother.”
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk growing on his lips. “Really? It has nothing to do with my stepson or your husband?”
“Where’s Kian?” I snapped.
“He’s perfectly fine.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He took out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one, slipping one out for himself when I declined. The silence was tense as he
lit it and took a long drag.
“What will people think if they know you’re sleeping with your stepbrother?” he asked, no doubt trying to get under my skin.
Reaching forward, I snagged a bagel and tore a small piece off. “I’d rather people know I’m sleeping with my stepbrother than
them know you’re my father.”
The only outward sign that I’d pissed him off was when a muscle in his jaw ticked. He continued to smoke, and I took a small
bite of the bagel only because I was starving, and I needed to keep my energy up if I was going to be in Chris’s presence.
“Let’s just get down to it, shall we?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. “You’re going to tell the Underground to leave my
gang alone.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because you’d never want to see your father hurt.”
“I want to see you dead,” I countered bluntly.
He leaned forward, grabbing my chin roughly, forcing my face up until I was looking at him. The bagel fell from my hand, and I
gripped the edges of the chair to keep from pushing him away. Anger and disgust tore through me as I glared daggers at him. I
didn’t give a shit if I shared blood with this man. When I looked at him, all I saw was the devil who’d killed my brother.
“How about you do what I say? Unless you’d like me to hurt Jace?” His voice was dangerously soft. “Or Kian. You don’t listen
to me, then they’re the ones who will pay for it.”
“You hurt Kian, and you’ll be in even deeper shit with Grimrose than you are now,” I gritted out.
“Do you really think I would have shot Hayes last night if I didn’t have a plan?” He released my face, and I jerked back, my
chair scraping against the hardwood. “I’m not worried about Grimrose. I want Little Haven. And I want the Underground as a
partner.”
“That will never happen.”
“Make it happen,” he spat out, his eyes flaring with growing anger. “Or I’ll make sure Kian and Jace pay for it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I think you made a good point last night.”
“And what point is that?”
“Kian is needed. Jace too, since you’re well aware that I care whether they live or die.” I smiled coldly. “Hayes isn’t needed,
which is why you shot him. And neither are you. You think I’ll save your pathetic life because you’re my father? I don’t give a
shit about you. I can wreck you and your gang with the Underground at my back. You might be big here in Pacific Point, but
anywhere else? You’re nothing.”
His face contorted in rage, and he flew to his feet, grabbing my arm and yanking me up with him. I tottered in the stupid heels
when he pushed me back until I smacked into the wall. His hand stayed on my shoulder, keeping me pressed against the wall as
he leaned closer. The ringing of his phone cut through the air, and he pulled it out of his pocket with his free hand before
glancing at it. After a second, he silenced it, put it away, and focused back on me.
“How rude of me,” he murmured, the cold satisfaction in his tone making a chill rip through me. “I should have started the
conversation telling you about your mother.”
“Let me go,” I gritted out.
“I only knew her for a short time,” he continued, ignoring my demand. “She would hang around because her brother used to sell
drugs for the Disciples.”
My chest heaved, his words causing a heaviness I didn’t even know I carried with me. I had no memories of my mother. She
had died long before I could remember. All I had were pictures.
“I liked her. Until one day she was just gone. Left me without so much as a goodbye. Now, it makes sense. She left when she
got pregnant with you. She never wanted a child in this life. Too bad I’m only learning that pregnancy was the reason she left.”
Fear hit me. “Why is that too bad?”
His smirk was cruel, and my stomach knotted painfully as I shoved him away from me, and then kicked off my heels. I didn’t
care if I was barefoot; it was better than him getting the upper hand again.
“Did you ever see the official police report for her death?” he asked, backing up and leaning on the edge of the table. “Did you
get her ashes?”
I froze, my glare staying on him. How did he know that she was cremated? His smug confidence put me even more on edge.
“Did you have something to do with her death?” I asked in a hushed voice.
“I didn’t kill her.” Chris strode forward three steps, getting in my face again. “But I did find her. Asked her why she left.”
“Asked?” I repeated bitterly. “I’m sure that’s what you did.”
“I don’t know how the hell she hid you from me,” he said with a frown. “She must have been aware I’d found her sooner than I
realized.”
“What did you do to her?” I hissed, my hands curling into fists.
“I sent her away.”
My head spun as I searched his face, trying to understand what he was telling me. “You did what?”
“She never died, Rynn.” He leaned closer, keeping his words low. “I wanted revenge for her leaving me. If you won’t take my
threat against Jace and Kian seriously, then let me make another. If I die, so does your mother.”
“You’re lying,” I choked out. “She’s not alive. It’s been almost twenty years⁠—”
“You give me what I want, which is Little Haven.” He paused, studying me. “And I want you to come home where you belong
once it’s all over.”
“Home? I don’t belong here. Or with you,” I snarled as I scrambled back, needing space from him. “I don’t believe you. You’re
trying to save your ass.”
“Go ahead. Do what you want. But know that if something happens to me or my gang, you’ll be the reason she dies. And I’ll
make sure to send you something to prove that.”
I was nearly shaking, my eyes not leaving him as he rounded the table and sat back down. He was lying, I was sure of it. But…
what if he wasn’t? I’d need to ask Ellie for help looking into it before I made any rash decisions.
“And Shawn’s mother?” I bit out. “Did you know Shawn was your son?”
“I found out shortly before I killed him,” he drawled, his uncaring manner making me see red. “His mother was a one-night
stand. I had no idea I’d gotten her pregnant.”
I scoffed. “Another thing to add on your resume. Deadbeat father, and a bastard who doesn’t know how to use protection. I’ll
probably find more half siblings from you. At least they never had the displeasure of meeting their sperm donor.”
Chris’s eyes flashed with threat, but he didn’t get a chance to say a word before the doors opened.
A man shuffled inside, his nervous gaze going to Chris. “We tried calling you, but they didn’t want to wait. I’m sorry.”
“What are you talking about?” Chris snapped. “Who⁠—”
“Good morning.” Mili appeared behind the man, breezing into the room like she owned it. Her friend Vee was right behind her,
and they both took a seat at the opposite end of the table from Chris. “We decided that two days was too long.”
Mili shot me a glance, silently telling me it was Ellie who didn’t want to wait. Chris’s jaw was clenched tight, his narrowed
gaze darting between me and Mili.
“We weren’t expecting company,” he finally said, his voice tight. “Forcing your way into my house isn’t the best way to keep
peace.”
Vee laughed as she grabbed a strawberry from a tray on the table. “Believe me. If we wanted to force our way in, there would
have been bloodshed. We politely asked your gate guard to let us in and said we didn’t feel like waiting when you didn’t
answer his call.”
“You do want to keep peace, don’t you, Chris?” Mili questioned, her tone sounding completely innocent, even though her eyes
were bright with challenge. “Since Rynn is here, we expected to be welcomed with open arms.”
“Of course,” Chris replied, his shoulders tense.
“Good.” Vee looked at me. “Let’s sit and talk.”
I walked to the table, and Mili tipped her head toward the chair at the end of the table. I sat down with Mili to my right and Vee
to my left. Chris’s jaw muscle flexed as he stared straight down the table at me. He didn’t like me sitting at the head of the
table.
I kept his stare. “I want Kian here. And Jace.”
Chris opened his mouth to no doubt argue, but Mili spoke up first. “You heard her. Get them in here.”
By now, Chris’s face was nearly purple with how hard he was trying to hold back his anger. He wasn’t used to taking orders.
And with Mili being a woman, I was sure that was even more difficult for him. But he must really not want to mess with the
Riot Crew, because he took out his phone and typed for a few seconds before he tossed it onto the table.
“They’ll be here in a few minutes,” he ground out.
Vee chewed on her strawberry while Mili crossed her arms and leaned back against the chair. Nerves bubbled through me as
we silently waited for Jace and Kian to get here.
 C H A P T E R E I G HT

“S HIT ,” I muttered, racing down the stairs. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Why didn’t Rynn wake me before she left the room?
Chris’s guy, Pete, had just informed me that my stepfather wanted to see me in the dining room. My nerves were already fucking
fried after last night, but I had a feeling today was only going to get worse. Chris wouldn’t have summoned me unless it was
important.
I jumped over the last two steps, rushing through the living room where there were Disciple members all over the place. A
couple of them nodded at me as I rushed through the room. The doors to the dining room were shut, and I slowed down, sucking
in a deep breath before pushing them open.
My eyes found Rynn first. She was sitting at the head of the table with Vee and Mili on either side of her. She turned her head,
her cold gaze meeting mine. She had to be tired after only getting a few hours of sleep, but it wasn’t showing.
Chris was at the opposite end, and without hesitation, I strode across the room, taking the seat to his right, knowing that was
what he expected me to do. Mili was staring at Chris, a bored expression on her face. But there was a flash of loathing in her
eyes before she turned her attention to me. Vee was grabbing a strawberry, not looking the least bit stressed.
“We’re still missing one,” Mili murmured. “Where’s Kian?”
“My men are getting him,” Chris said tightly.
Silence fell back over the room, and knots grew in my stomach. Mili and Vee weren’t supposed to be here today, and I had a
feeling this conversation was not going to go well. Rynn was staring over everyone’s heads, her jaw tight as she tapped her
fingers on the table. Chris lit up a cigarette, his glare focused on the women. I could tell it was taking all his self-control to
keep his mouth shut.
There was a loud bang when the door slammed open. Kian was being hauled into the room by two of Chris’s men. They were
each gripping one of his arms and didn’t let go until they shoved him into a chair near the middle of the table. Kian glanced at
Rynn before his eyes cut to Chris.
“All right.” Chris checked his watch. “I’d like to get this finished. How much longer until they get here?”
Mili raised an eyebrow. “They who?”
“Your…men.” Even while saying it, Chris’s voice lowered a notch, as if he realized it was the wrong thing to say.
Vee dropped the strawberry, her eyes growing frigid. “Our men? I didn’t realize they were part of the conversation. Did you,
Mili?”
Mili’s lips tipped down in a faux-confused frown. “Aren’t we the ones who called this meeting, Vee?”
“My man has nothing to do with this,” Vee murmured, her voice deadly soft. “Are you incapable of talking to women?”
“No,” Chris snapped, tossing the cigarette into the ashtray. “I just thought they would be joining.”
“Well,” Mili said, leaning back in her chair, “it’s great to know that the next time we do this, you’ll wait on me and Vee to start,
just like you would for our guys.”
Chris was barely holding it together right now, and half the reason was because they were women.
“Do you know if my dad is alive?” Kian ground out, speaking for the first time since he was brought into the room.
A vile smirk was Chris’s only answer, and I stayed quiet because I had no idea if Hayes was alive or not.
“He’s in the hospital,” Vee said. “Alive, but barely.”
Kian’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t say anything else as he met Rynn’s concerned gaze. My heart was beating wildly in my chest,
the tension in this room beyond stifling.
“Did he tell you about your mother?” Mili asked, her eyes cutting to Rynn.
Rynn straightened in her chair, hesitating for a few moments before answering, “Yes.”
I frowned, the hard edge in her voice making me believe that Chris had said something else to her. Chris’s expression didn’t
give anything away, but I could tell he wasn’t nervous. Whatever he’d said to Rynn made him confident that she wouldn’t
retaliate against him.
“Good, then you can leave with us,” Mili said before turning her attention to Chris. “This is your one warning. Stay out of Little
Haven.”
“Excuse me?” Chris grated out. “No one owns that territory⁠—”
“Not yet,” Vee cut off sharply. “But you couldn’t even get control of campus. What makes you think you can take the city?”
A vein throbbed above Chris’s eye, but he didn’t rise to her taunting as he stayed completely still. I bit my tongue, knowing he
was going to be in a pissed off mood once they all left.
“The city will be Rynn’s,” Mili said simply. “Just like campus is.”
“She doesn’t have campus,” Chris snapped.
“No?” Mili questioned, feigning confusion. “You had her under control for days when your stepson kept her locked in her
dorm. But you didn’t gain anything from that, did you?”
“She has nothing,” Chris snarled, losing his patience. “She’s nothing but a—” He cut himself off, as if remembering who he
was talking to. After clearing his throat, he continued. “She’s a kid and works for the Underground.”
“I’m glad your argument is her age and not that she’s a woman,” Vee said as she grabbed another strawberry. “She is young.
But that’s okay. She’ll grow.”
Chris nearly snorted. “Grow? She works for the Underground.”
“I think you’ll be busy in your own city,” Mili murmured. “Shooting Hayes brought a war to your backyard.”
“That’s none of your business,” Chris bit out.
“Maybe not,” Vee mused. “But Rynn is our business. And she’s currently in your city.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“Do you want her as your daughter?” Mili asked, her tone turning colder. “Or do you want her because she’s with someone
who has power that you can’t fucking touch?”
“Watch how you fucking speak to me,” Chris hissed, losing his last shred of control. “You are in my city, in my house, and
sitting at my table. You will not disrespect me.”
“You haven’t shown me any respect since we met.” Rynn’s words had everyone looking at her. She’d barely spoken since I
entered the room, and her eyes were full of loathing as she focused on Chris. He met her stare, his lips twisting in a sneer for a
moment before he schooled his expression.
“I didn’t know who you were⁠—”
Rynn didn’t give him a chance to finish, continuing to speak as if Chris hadn’t said a word. “The first time we met, I was tied
up in your warehouse, where you had no issue hitting me. The second time? You offered me to your men. Then you threatened
Gage to control me.”
My stomach clenched, and Kian went rigid in the chair, his glare scathing as he looked at Chris. I was guessing this was the
first time he’d heard everything my stepfather had done to her.
“But that was all before you knew who I was,” Rynn said. “At the club, you found out. And I’m not talking about our
unfortunate relation. You know I’m with the Underground, and even then, you threatened me.”
She stood up and rested her palms on the dining table. Mili and Vee stayed sitting, their gazes moving between Rynn and Chris.
“Blood means nothing,” Rynn murmured, her voice lethal. “You being my father is nothing. But the Underground? They are my
family. I’m not someone low in the ranks. I wear their ink. If I wanted, they would have stormed this house last night to get me.
I chose to come here. But if you keep treating me like you have been, my patience will snap. And you’ll understand firsthand
how the Underground deals with their enemies.”
My heart was pounding as I waited for Chris to lose his shit. His temper was something he could never keep in check. I tensed
when he flew to his feet, his hands clenching into fists as he glared across the table at Rynn. She straightened up, keeping her
face stone cold.
“One more thing.” Rynn glanced at me. “I want that video from last night deleted. Right now.”
“I’ll have it done,” Chris gritted out through clenched teeth.
Rynn shook her head. “Not good enough. I want to make sure it’s gone before I walk out of this house.”
“I’ll need to talk to someone. I don’t know how to delete it.” Chris was just playing with her now. He was pissed.
“I have someone who can help with that.” Vanessa pulled her phone out, her fingers moving fast as she typed something out.
“He’s outside the gate. Let him in.”
Chris’s jaw ticked, but he snatched his phone from the table and made a quick call to the person at the gate. When he hung up,
Rynn sat back down, her smile smug.
“Once the video is gone, I’m going back to campus. Kian is leaving with me,” she stated. “And Jace.”
Kian and I exchanged a look, both of us knowing that wasn’t going to happen.
“No,” Chris growled. “Kian stays. This is Pacific Point business.”
“He is my business,” Rynn countered. “He’s my husband. I’m not leaving without him.”
Chris grinned cruelly. “Then you can stay here too.”
“No,” Rynn said simply. “But feel free to try and argue with me. We’ll see how long it takes for the Underground to bust down
your door.”
“I need a word with my daughter. Alone.”
“No.” Mili flicked her gaze toward Chris. “Not happening.”
I didn’t know what the hell Chris thought he could do. His hands were tied, unless he had someone backing him that I didn’t
know about. He had three women sitting at his table who he couldn’t control. Who all had an army at their backs. He couldn’t
go up against them if they were all working together. Unless he had something planned.
“Did you forget what I told you about your mother?” Chris asked in a low voice, pulling me from my thoughts.
Rynn was still glaring at him, his words causing a flicker of unease to pass over her face. “I didn’t forget. But that conversation
isn’t over. And until I find out the truth, you’re going to back the hell off.”
“What truth?” Mili asked curiously.
“That’s family business.” Chris’s eyes cut to the doors when they opened.
Two of his men strode in with another guy behind them. My heart skipped when Ryker met my gaze. He was the one who had
come to Sterling with us to help wipe the video that Rynn had of the dean. Chris had no idea that I’d stayed in contact with him
after we’d done business with his gang, the Kings, a couple of years ago.
“You,” Rynn breathed out, staring at Ryker.
“You know him?” Vee asked sharply, her head whipping toward Ryker.
Ryker glanced at Rynn first, and then Vee, shooting her a sheepish grin as he ran a hand through his blond hair.
“We met once,” he mumbled with a shrug.
“Met isn’t the word I’d use,” Rynn muttered.
Vee frowned, her scrutinizing stare staying on Ryker. From what Kian had told me, Rynn hadn’t been happy when he and Ryker
cornered her to delete the video of the dean. Ryker owed me a favor, and he had no intention of telling Vee what he helped
with, but there was no doubt she’d find out now.
“Chris has a video that we want deleted,” Vee said, her look promising that the conversation about Rynn knowing Ryker wasn’t
over. “Can you do it?”
“Yeah,” Ryker answered, glancing at Chris. “Where’re your hard drives at?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “My men will show you.”
Ryker followed the two men out of the room, and once they were gone, Mili got to her feet.
“I’m taking Rynn back to campus,” she stated. “Vee will stay here until Ryker is finished. Let’s go. You too, Kian.”
Chris shot me a look. “Go with them. Pratt is already back on campus. I’ll talk to you later.”
He didn’t have to say anything else. I knew he was expecting me to relay everything that happened on campus back to him. I
stiffly stood up while Kian did the same, his eyes staying on Chris as if waiting for him to stop him from leaving. But Chris
wouldn’t do that. Not when he had nothing to threaten Mili or Vee with. Though I was positive he had something in the works
that I knew nothing about. Hopefully, he’d tell me at some point soon.
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which had deep rich colors like the colors in the rugs, made her eyes shine,
her color heighten.
Mrs. Brownley met them at the house and took them to their rooms
herself. Mrs. Thorstad had a big pleasant room in a wing of the house given
up to guest chambers and Freda’s was a small one connected with it.
“My daughters are looking forward so much to meeting you,” Mrs.
Brownley said easily to Freda. “They are out just now, but when you come
down for dinner they will be home. We usually dine at seven, Mrs.
Thorstad. It isn’t at all necessary to dress.”
“She is nice, isn’t she?” said Freda, as the door closed after their hostess,
“maybe it won’t be so bad. Anyway, all experience is good. Glad I
remember that much Nietzsche. It often helps.”
Mrs. Thorstad put her trim little hat on the closet shelf and began to
unpack her suit-case. Freda explored the bath.
“It’s like a movie,” she came back to say, “I feel just like the second reel
when the heroine is seduced by luxury into giving herself—”
“Freda!”
“Truly I do. She always takes a look into the closet at rows of clothes
and closes the door virtuously, gazes rapturously at the chaise longue all
lumpy with pillows and stiffens herself. But she never can resist the look
into the bath room—monogramed towels, scented soap, bath salts. I know
just exactly how the poor girls feel. Certain kinds of baths are for
cleanliness—others make a lady out of a sow’s ear—you know.”
“Why are you wearing that dress?” asked her mother, rousing from her
nap fifteen minutes later. “I was going down in my waist and skirt.”
“Mother—you can’t. That wasn’t what she meant by not dressing. She
meant not evening dress. You’ll have to put on your blue silk.”
“I wanted to save that for afternoon affairs.”
“You won’t wear it out to-night. Come, mother, I’ll hook you up.”
They were down at five minutes before seven. Barbara was not visible
but Allie and her mother and father waited for them in the drawing-room.
Crossing the threshold of that room seemed to take all Freda’s courage. If
her mother had not been so absorbed in thinking of the way she meant to
interest Mr. Brownley in her career, she would have heard the quick little
catch of breath in Freda’s throat as she came through the velvet curtains
behind her. She did see the quickened interest on Allie’s face and Mrs.
Brownley’s measured glance of approval at Freda. Freda had been right.
The Brownleys were dressed for dinner, quite elaborately it seemed to her.
She made no note of the discrimination in evening clothes, that Mrs.
Brownley’s velvet dress was high at the neck and Mr. Brownley’s tie black
instead of white. Allie came forward with her rough and tumble welcome,
shaking hands casually with Mrs. Thorstad and frankly admiring Freda.
Allie herself had dressed in a hurry and was noticeable chiefly for the high
spots of rouge on each cheek.
“Sorry I wasn’t home when you came. I had to go to a luncheon and then
to the theater. Couldn’t get out of it. It was a party for a friend of mine who
is to be married and I’m in the bridal party, you see. She’s an awfully nice
girl—marrying the most awful lemon you ever saw.”
Freda knew all about that marriage. It had been heralded even in
Mohawk. Gratia Allen and Peter Ward. But she gave no sign of knowing
about it.
“Isn’t it funny,” she answered, getting Allie’s note with amazing
accuracy, “how often that happens? The nicest girls get the queerest men.”
“Not enough decent men to go around any more.”
So it was all right until Barbara came in. A little party gathered in the
meantime—the Gage Flandons, and Margaret Duffield with Walter
Carpenter. Margaret was beginning to be asked as a dinner companion for
Walter fairly often now. And as a concession to the young people Mrs.
Brownley had asked three young men, Ted Smillie and the Bates boys, who
traveled in pairs, Allie always said. They were all there when Barbara came
in. Obviously she had some one, either the unknown guest or her friend
Ted, in mind when she dressed, for she was perfectly done. Smoothly
marcelled hair, black lace dress carrying out the latest vagaries in fashion,
black slippers with jeweled buckles. As she gave her hand to Freda with the
smile which held a faint hint of condescension, Freda bent her knuckles to
hide the nail she had torn yesterday closing the trunk. She felt over dressed,
obvious, a splash of ugly color. Ted had been talking to her but by a simple
assumption that Freda could have nothing of interest to say, Barbara took up
the thread of talk with him, speaking of incidents, people that were
unknown to Freda. The Bates boys were talking to Allie. Freda stood alone
for a moment—an interminable awkward moment, in which no one seemed
to notice her. Then Gage Flandon crossed to her side and she gave him a
smile which made him her friend at once, a smile of utter gratitude without
a trace of pose.
“How nice of you,” she said, simply, “to come to talk to me. I feel so
strange.”
“My wife says you’ve never met any of us before. No wonder.”
“It isn’t just that. I’m a little afraid I’m here without much reason.
Mother brought me but I’m not a political woman and I’m not”—with a
rueful little glance at Barbara—“a society girl at all. I’m afraid I’ll be in
everybody’s way.”
She said it without any coquetry and it came out clearly so—as the plain
little worry it was. Gage, who had found himself a little touched by the
obvious situation of the girl felt further attracted by her frankness. She
seemed an unspoiled, handsome person. That was what Helen had told him,
but he had grown so used to sophistication and measured innocence that he
had not expected anything from the daughter of this little political speaker.
He had come to size up Mrs. Thorstad, for her name had been presented as
a possibility in a discussion with some of his own friends as they went over
the matter of recognizing women in the political field. As Mrs. Thorstad
gave her hand to him he had seen what he came to see. She had brains. She
had the politician’s smile. She could be used—and doubtless managed as
far as was necessary. But the daughter was different. He liked that dress she
was wearing. It showed her slimness, suppleness, but it didn’t make her
indecent like that lace thing on Bob Brownley.
“I often feel like that,” he answered her, “I’m not much of a society
person either and I can’t keep up with these wonderful women we’re seeing
everywhere. Women with a lot of brains frighten me.”
Idle talk, with his real, little prejudice back it, which Freda by accident
uncovered immediately. She was talking against time so he would not leave
her unguarded, and it was chance that she pleased him so much.
“Women have a lot of brains now,” she said, “in politics and—society
too, I suppose. But I wonder if we weren’t more attractive when we weren’t
quite so brilliant. I don’t mean when we had huge families and did the
washing and made the butter. I mean when we were more romantic and not
quite so—”
 She stumbled a little. She was conscious of being historically at sea,
vague in her definition of romance. But she had said that several times
before and it came easily to her tongue. She stopped, feeling awkward and
then amazed at Mr. Flandon’s enthusiasm.
“That’s it!” he exclaimed, “that’s what I miss. Women have stopped
being romantic. They’ve done worse. They’ve penetrated our souls and dug
out the romance and analyzed it among themselves.”
But she could not answer. Some one announced dinner and Freda moved
with the rest to get her first enchanted sight of the Brownley dining table
with its wedge wood vases full of roses and narcissus, its shining perfection
of detail.
She was near her hostess’ end of the table, Mr. Flandon at her left and
one of the Bates boys at her right. Mrs. Brownley had wanted to talk to
Gage and had decided, as she placed the cards, that Freda would take as
little of his attention as any one present. She started in after the consommé
to find out what Gage thought about the Republican committee. It was most
unsatisfactory for he seemed to be absorbed in telling something to Miss
Thorstad and gave answers to his hostess as if his mind were on something
else. As for Gage, he was talking more animatedly than he had talked to any
woman in years, thought his wife, watching him.
“What heresy is my husband pouring into your ears, Miss Thorstad?”
she asked, leaning forward.
Freda blushed a little as the attention turned to her.
“He is telling me the arguments I’ve been wanting to hear—against
being a perfectly modern woman.”
“Proselytizing!” said Margaret. “Wait a bit, Miss Thorstad. Let me get
the other ear after dinner.”
“Freda likes to tease,” explained her mother to their host.
Barbara looked a little disdainful, making some remark sotto voce to
Ted. But he was not listening. Freda had, in the rise of her spirits, given him
a smile across the table, the kind of come-there smile she gave David Grant
of Mohawk when she wanted to skate with him or dance with him—a smile
of perfectly frank allure. He returned it with interest.
Helen did not follow up her remark. It had been scattered in the
comments. Gage caught her eye and she gave him a look which said, “I told
you there was something in that girl.” Gage immediately wanted to leave
the table and tell Helen all about it. But Mrs. Brownley wanted to know
something again. He turned to her.
It was fairly easy for Freda after all, in spite of Barbara, whose
measuring eyes made her nervous whenever they were turned on her. She
had a difficult time concealing the broken finger-nail and she was not at all
sure whether to lift the finger bowl off the fruit plate with the lace doily or
to leave the doily. Otherwise there were no great difficulties. There was a
bad moment after dinner when it became clear to her that there was some
altercation among the young people which concerned her. She could not
guess what it was, but she saw Allie and Barbara in heated conclave. Then,
with a little toss of her head, Allie came to her.
“We thought that you and I and Fred and Tony would go down to the
Majestic. We had six tickets but Bob seems to think she and Ted have
another date.”
And then Ted ruined things. He turned from where he and Tony Bates
were smoking by the mantelpiece and strolled over to Freda.
“We’re going to the Majestic—and I’m going to sit next to you,” he
announced.

III

The Majestic was a vaudeville house, presenting its seven acts weekly
for the delectation of its patrons, servant girls, business men, impecunious
boys in the gallery, suburbanites, shop girls with their young men, traveling
men, idle people, parties of young people like the Brownley girls, one of
those heterogeneous crowds that a dollar and a half price for a best seat can
bring in America. When the young Brownleys arrived, the acrobatic act
which led the bill was over and the two poorest comedians, put on near the
beginning of the bill before the audience grew too wearily critical, were
doing a buck and wing dance to the accompaniment of some quite
ununderstandable words.
With a great deal of noise and mysterious laughter the late arrivals
became seated finally, taking their places with the lack of consideration for
the people behind them which was characteristic of their arrogance, making
audible and derogatory comments about the act on the stage and curiously
enough not seeming to anger any one. The girls with their fur coats, hatless,
well dressed hair, the sleek dinner coated young men interested the people
around them far more than they bothered them by their noisiness.
They left during the last act and before the moving picture of “Current
Events,” all six of them getting into the Bates’ sedan and speeding at forty
miles an hour out to the Roadside Inn which was kept open only until
midnight.
The Roadside Inn was a brown mockery of Elizabethan architecture,
about thirty miles out of the city on a good road. The door opened invitingly
on a long low room full of chintz-covered chairs and wicker tables and at
this time of year there was always a good open fire to welcome any comers.
Back of that a dining room and, parallel with the two, a long dance room,
where three enforcedly gay negroes pounded out melodies in jungle time
hour after hour every evening. Upstairs there were half a dozen small bed
rooms for transient automobilists who wanted to stay in the country for
some reason or other or whose cars had broken down.
The place was on the fence between decency and shadowy repute. It was
frequented by people of all kinds, people who were respectable and people
suspected of not being so. The landlady ignored any distinctions. She had
made the place into a well-paying institution, had put its decoration into the
hands of a good architect with whom she always quarreled about his
charges and she asked no questions if her customers paid their bills.
Probably she saw no difference between those of her guests who were of
one kind and those of another. They all danced in much the same manner,
were equally noisy, equally critical of the extremely good food and that was
as far as her contact or comment went. If the food had not been so good, the
place would have suffered in patronage, but that was unfailing. The cook
was ready now at five minutes’ notice to concoct chicken a la king and
make coffee for the Brownley party and as they came back from the dance
room after having tried out the floor and the music, their supper was ready.
Freda had not acquitted herself badly there either. Without having all the
tricks of the Brownleys, she had a grace and sense of rhythm which helped
her to adapt herself. Besides she had the first dance with Ted. He held her
close, hardly looking at her. That was his way in dancing.
“You must be very gay in Mohawk,” said Barbara when they were all at
the table in the dining room again.
The edge of her malice was lost on Freda.
 “No—not at all. Why?”
“You seem very experienced.”
A little glimmer of amusement came into Freda’s eyes.
“Well—not first hand experience. We read—we go to moving pictures.”
“I suppose lots of people are picking up ideas from the moving pictures,”
Barbara commented carelessly.
One of the Bates boys was drawing something from his pocket. Barbara
looked at it indifferently, Allie with a frown of annoyance.
“Didn’t I tell you, Tony, to cut that stuff out?”
“We’ll all be cutting it out soon enough,” said Tony. “Won’t be any. This
is all right. Tapped father’s supply. A taste for every one and a swallow for
me.”
He was a sallow thin young person whom the sight of his own flask
seemed to have waked into sudden joviality.
“I don’t want any,” said Allie. “Don’t waste it.”
Then as Tony Bates ignored her protest, she drained her glass
accustomedly.
Barbara took her highball without a change of expression or color. Freda
tried to refuse but they laughed at her.
“Come. You came to the city to have a good time.”
She felt that she couldn’t refuse without seeming prudish. She has a fear
of what the liquor might do to her, a desire to do what the rest did.
Her head felt a little light, but that was all, and that only for a moment. It
wasn’t unpleasant.
They all finished the flask. They danced again, Freda with Tony Bates,
Barbara with Ted. Then Ted sought Freda again. He danced as he had the
first time but he held her even closer, more firmly, making his position into
an embrace, and yet dancing perfectly. From over one of the young men’s
shoulders, Barbara saw it. Her face did not show any feeling.
On the way home the embracing was a little promiscuous. Allie, dull
from the liquor, lay sprawling against Tony’s rather indifferent shoulder.
Bob let the other Bates boy paw her lazily and Freda found herself rather
absorbed in keeping Ted from going to lengths which she felt were hardly
justified even by three or four highballs.
 It was when they were home again after the young men had left that
Freda felt the dislike of the other girl. It was as if Barbara had been waiting
for the young men to go to make Freda uncomfortable.
“I hope Ted didn’t embarrass you, Miss Thorstad?’
“Embarrass me?”
“Ted is such a scandalous flirt that he is apt, I think, to embarrass people
who aren’t used to him. I always keep him at a distance because he talks
about girls most awfully.”
“Oh, does he?”
“I’m glad he didn’t bother you. Don’t let him think you like him. He
makes the most terrific game of people who let themselves in for it.”
“Lots of people do let themselves in for it too,” said Allie with meaning.
Barbara steered away from the dangers of that subject.
“I hope you’re going to enjoy yourself, Miss Thorstad. There are no end
of things going on.”
“You mustn’t bother about me,” said Freda, “I’m afraid that I am going
to be a burden.”
Barbara let a minute pass, a minute of insult.
“No—not at all.”
“Nonsense,” said Allie, “everybody’ll be crazy about you. You dance
stunningly and the Bateses and Ted were nutty about you. You don’t have to
worry.”
Freda said good night and left them. She went slowly up the staircase,
thinking what fun it would be to climb that staircase every night, to go
down it by natural right, to belong to it.
The sense of Barbara’s dislike pervaded everything else. She felt that she
must have made a fool of herself with that young fellow. He must have
thought her a dreadful idiot. Ah, well, the first evening was over and she’d
had some experience. She had been at a dinner where there was an entrée,
she had used a fish fork, she had danced at a roadhouse. She laughed at
herself a little.
“I’ve been draining the fleshpots of Egypt,” she said, sitting on the
bottom of her mother’s bed. Her mother’s prim little braids of hair against
the pillow were silhouetted in the moonlight.
 “You were very nice to-night,” said her mother practically. “Mrs.
Flandon wants us both to go there for dinner Thursday night.”
“I like Mr. Flandon a lot.”
“Very little idealism,” commented Mrs. Thorstad, wisely.
 CHAPTER V

A HUSBAND

Y ET something was hurting Gage Flandon. He had tried to decide that

he was not getting enough exercise, that he was smoking too much, not
sleeping enough. But petty reforms in those things did not help him. He
felt surging through him, strange restlessness, curious probing
dissatisfactions. He was angry at himself because he was in such a state; he
was morbidly angry with his wife because she could not assuage what he
was feeling nor share it with him.
Everywhere he was baffled by his passion for Helen. After six years of
married life, after they had been through birth, parenthood together, surely
this state was neurotic. Affection, yes, that was proper. But not this constant
sense of her, this desire to absorb her, own her completely and segregate her
completely. He knew the feeling had been growing on him lately since her
friend had come to the city, but his resentment was not against Margaret. It
was directed against his wife and that he could not reason this into justice
gnawed at him.
He was spending a great deal of time thinking about what was wrong
with women. He would hit upon a phrase, a clever sentence that solved
everything. And then he was back where he had begun. He could resolve
nothing in phrases. He and Helen would discuss feminism, masculinism,
sex, endlessly, and always end as antagonists—or as lovers, hiding from
their own antagonism. But they could not leave the subjects alone. They
tossed them back and forth, wearily, impatiently. Always over the love for
each other which they could not deny, hung this cloud of discussion,
making every caress suspected of a motive, a “reaction.”
When Gage had been sent at twelve years of age to a boys’ military
preparatory school, it had been definitely done to “harden him.” He was a
dreamy little boy, not in the least delicate, but with a roving imagination, a
tendency to say “queer things” which had not suited his healthy perfectly
grown body, his father felt. Some one had suspected him of having hidden
artistic abilities. His parents were intelligent people and they tried that out.
He was given instructions in music on the piano and the violin. Nothing
came of them but ridges on the piano where he had kicked it in his
impatience at being able to draw no melodies from it. With infinite patience
they tried to see if he had talent for drawing. He had none. So, having
exhausted their researches for artistic talent, his parents decided that there
was a flaw in his make-up which a few years contact with “more manly
boys” might correct. They prided themselves on the result. He succumbed
utterly to all the conventions of what makes a manly boy and came home
true to form.
In college the quirk came out again once in a while. But Gage never
became markedly queer. Impossible for an all-American half-back to do
that. And he never mixed with the “queer ones.” What eccentricities he had,
what flights of imagination he took were strictly on his own.
In due course he was admitted to the bar and on the heels of that came
Helen. Those who saw him in his pursuit of Helen said that he seemed
possessed. For once his imagination had found an outlet. For once all those
desires which rose above his daily life and his usual companions had found
a channel through which they could pour themselves. Eager for life as
Helen was, full of dreams, independences, fresh from her years at college,
she could not help being swept under by the torrent of desire and worship
that he became. They soared away together—they lost themselves in
marriage, in the marvel of child creation.
The war came. Gage met it gravely, a little less spread-eagle than most
of his friends. He had a year in France and came back with a fallen
enthusiasm. He never talked about that. He had plunged into money
making. The small fortune his father had given him on his marriage had
been absorbed in starting a home and Helen had nothing of her own. They
needed a great deal of money and Gage got it, trampling into politics, into
business, practicing law well all the time. He was now thirty-eight and had
accumulated a remarkable store of influence and power. Very close to the
Congressman from his district, keen and far sighted, as honest in keeping
promises as he was ruthless in dealing with political obstructionists, he was
recognized as the key man to his very important district. He knew politics
as he knew law but he built no ideals on it. It was perhaps his very thorough
knowledge of the deviousness of its methods which made him reluctant to
have Helen meddle with it. For although he had accepted the suffrage of
women as a political phenomenon which had to be taken in hand and dealt
with, he had no belief that the old game would change much.
He nearly always looked his full age. His face was one of those into
which deep lines come early, well modeled, but with no fineness of detail.
And his large built body, always carelessly dressed, was the same. Yet there
were times, Helen knew, when his eyes became plaintive and wondering
and he looked as the little boy who was sent away to be “hardened” must
have looked. Only he was learning to cover those times with a scowl.
He was finding that he could not quiet all the mental nightmares he had
with his love for Helen. Because that love itself was infested by this strange
new “woman problem.” What securities of opinion had been swept away by
study, by war, what questions in him were left unsatisfied—those things
were hidden in him. He had clung to love and faith in marriage. And now
that stronghold was being attacked. He was hearing people who called it all
fake, all false psychology. And he did not know how much Helen believed
these people. He felt her restlessness in horror. He saw no direction in
which she might go away from him where she would not meet destruction,
where false, incomplete ideas would not ruin her. It was making him a
reactionary.
For, because he had no solution himself, he was forced to fall back on
negations. He denied everything, sank back into an idealism of the past.
“I liked that girl,” he said to his wife about Freda, “no fake.”
“None,” answered Helen. “I hoped you’d like her, Gage.”
“She says that the trouble with women is that they’ve lost the spirit of
romance and that they’ve dug the romance out of men’s souls too.”
It was what he himself had said but it was easier to put to Helen in that
way.
“Young thing—full of phrases.” His wife laughed lightly.
It was the night on which Freda and her mother were to dine with them.
Gage, dressed before his wife, had dropped in to watch her. He loved to see
her do her hair. She seemed exquisitely beautiful to him when she deftly
parted and coiled the loose masses of it—more than beautiful—exquisitely
woman. He loved to see the woman quality in her, not to awaken passion or
desire but for the sense of wonder it gave him. He loved to cherish her.
 “We’re all full of phrases,” he said, a little hurt already. “But she has
something behind her phrases. She’s unspoiled yet by ideas.”
“She’s full of ideas. You should see the things that young modern reads.
She’s without experience—without dogmas yet. But she’ll acquire those. At
present she’s looking for beauty. You might show it to her, she may find it
in Margaret; perhaps she’ll find it in her canting little mother.”
“She would find it in you if you’d let her see you.”
“Do you think I’m anything to copy? You seem dissatisfied so often,
Gage.”
“Don’t, Helen.” He came over to where she sat and bent to lay his cheek
against her hair. Her hand caressed his cheek and his eyes closed.
She wanted to ask him what would happen to them if they could not
bury argument in a caress but she knew the torch that would be to his anger.
He felt her lack of response.
“I’m not dissatisfied with you. I’m dissatisfied because I can’t have you
completely to myself. I’m dissatisfied because you can’t sit beside me,
above and indifferent to a host of silly men and women parading false
ideas.”
“I’m not so sure they are false. I can’t get your conviction about
everything modern. I want to try things out.”
“But, Helen, it’s not your game. Look—since Margaret came you’ve
been dabbling in this—that—politics, clubs, what not. You are bored with
me.”
“Impossible, darling. But you really mustn’t expect the good, old-
fashioned, clinging vine stuff from me. I’m not any good at it. Now please
hurry down, dear, and see if there are cigars and cigarettes, will you? And
you’ll have to have your cocktail alone because if I had one before Mrs.
Thorstad she’d think I was a Scarlet Woman.”
There was nothing for Gage to do but go with that familiar sense of
failure.
After he had gone, Helen’s face lost some of its lightness and she sat
looking at herself in the glass. Without admiration—without calculation.
She was wondering how much of love was sex—wondering how she could
fortify herself against the passing of the charms of sex—wondering why
Gage had such a frantic dislike of women like Margaret who hadn’t
succumbed to sex—wondering if that was the reason. She thought of the
pretty Thorstad child. Gage liked her. That too might be a manifestation of
vague unadmitted desire. She shivered a little. Such thoughts made her very
cold. Then with a conscience smitten glance at her little porcelain clock she
slipped into her dress and rang for the maid to hook it.
The nurse maid came and entertained Helen, as she helped her, with an
account of the afternoon she had spent with Bennett and Peggy. Peggy had
learned to count up to ten and Bennett was trying to imitate her. Helen
wished she had heard them. She hated to miss any bit of the development of
her fascinating children. It was a feeling that Margaret had told her she had
better steel herself against.

II

It was a wonderful evening for Freda. In the thoroughly friendly

atmosphere she expanded. She made it wonderful for Gage too. He had the
sense of an atmosphere freed from all censoriousness of analysis. Freda was
drinking in impressions, finding her way by feeling alone. He basked in the
warm worshipful admiration she gave his wife.
They left early and Gage drove them home, leaving Freda at her hostess’
door with a promise to give her a real drive some day and an admonition
not to fall in love with any young wastrel. Part of their bantering
conversation had been about Freda’s falling in love and how completely she
was to do it.
“I’ll let you look him over if you will, Mr. Flandon.”
“Fine,” he said, “I’ll see if he’s the right sort.”
He had told Helen he was going to drop in at the club for a few minutes
and see if he could find a man he wanted to see. But the object of his search
was not to be seen and Gage was about to leave the lounge when Walter
Carpenter called him. Carpenter lived at the club. He was stretched in one
of the long soft chairs before the fire, his back to the rest of the room. Gage
stopped beside him.
“How’s everything?”
“So-so.”
Walter offered a cigar, and indicated a chair.
“No—I think I’ll go on home,” said Gage, taking the cigar.
 “Better smoke it here.”
For all his casualness it was clear that Walter wanted company. Gage
dropped into the nearby chair and they talked for a few minutes, without
focusing on anything. Then Walter began.
“Wonderful girl, that Vassar friend of Helen’s.”
“Margaret Duffield? Think so?”
“I’ve never seen a girl I liked as much,” said Walter.
He said it in the cool, dispassionate way that he said most things, without
any embarrassment. Embarrassments of all sorts had been sloughed off
during the fifteen years of Walter’s business and social achievements. Gage
looked at him frowningly.
“You don’t mean you’re serious—you?”
“Why not—I?” repeated Carpenter, grinning imperturably.
He didn’t look serious or at least impassioned, Gage might have said.
His long figure was stretched out comfortably. It was slightly thickened
about the waist, and his sleek hair was thinning as his waist was thickening.
His calm, well-shaven face was as good looking as that of a well-kept, well-
fed man of thirty-seven is apt to be. It was losing the sharpness and the
vitality of youth but it did not yet have the permanent contours of its middle
age. And it bore all the signs of healthy living and living that was not only
for the sake of satisfying his appetites.
“Why—it never occurred to me,” said Gage, puffing a little harder at his
cigar.
“That I might get married?”
“I don’t know. I rather thought that if you married you’d pick a different
sort of a girl.”
“I might have done that a long time ago. I’ve seen enough sorts. No—I
never have seen one before who really—”
He paused reflectively, unaccustomed in the language of emotion.
“She’s a fine looking girl.” Gage felt he must pay some tribute.
“She is fine looking. She has a face that you can’t forget—not for a
minute.”
“But,” said Gage, “you must know that she’s the rankest kind of a
woman’s righter—a feminist.”
 “What’s a feminist?” asked Walter calmly.
“Damned if I know. It means anything any woman wants it to mean. It’s
driven everybody to incoherence. But what I mean is that that kind of
woman doesn’t make any concessions to—sex.”
They lifted the conversation away from Margaret into a generalization.
Both of them wanted to talk about her but it couldn’t be done with her as an
openly acknowledged example.
“Well,” answered Carpenter, “perhaps that was coming to us. Perhaps we
were expecting women to make too many concessions to sex. There are a
lot of uncultivated qualities in women you know. They can’t devote all their
time to our meals and our children.”
“I don’t object to their devoting their time to anything they like. I do
object to their scattering themselves, wearing themselves out on a lot of
damned nonsense. Let them vote. Granted we’ve got to have a few female
political hacks like this Thorstad woman. It won’t hurt her any. It’s all right
for Mrs. Brownley—and that type of wise old girl—to play at politics. But
for a woman—a young woman who ought to be finding out all the things in
life that belong to her, who ought to be—letting herself go naturally—being
a woman—for her to go in for a spellbinder’s career is depressing and
worse.”
Walter smiled quizzically.
“Haven’t women always been just that, spellbinders? Isn’t that the job
we gave them long ago? Haven’t women been spellbinders for thousands of
years?”
“God knows they have,” said Gage.
He was silent for a moment, recollecting his argument, then plunged on.
“It was all right when it was instinctive and natural but now it’s so
damned self-conscious. They’re picking all their instincts to pieces, reading
Freud on sex, analyzing every honest caress, worrying about being
submerged in homes and husbands. It’s wrecking, I tell you, Walter. It’s
spoiling their grain. And I’ll tell you another thing. It’s the women’s
colleges that start it all. If I had my way I’d burn the things to the ground.
They start all the trouble.”
Walter broke the silence again.
 “The reason I wanted to talk to you was because some of the difficulties
you suggest were simmering in my own mind. And it always seemed to me
that you and Helen got away with the whole business so well. You’ve had
children—you’ve managed to keep everything—haven’t you worked it out
for yourself anyway?”
“You can’t work it out,” said Gage, impatiently, “by just having children.
It doesn’t end the chapter.”
“It’s a difficult time.”
“It’s a rotten time. You know I can’t help feeling, Walter, that the women
of this generation are potentially all that they claim to be actually. It isn’t
that I’d deny them any chance. But to let them be guided by fakirs or by
their own inexperience will land them in a worse mess than ever. Look at
some of them who have achieved prominence-pictures in the New York
Times anyway. Their very pictures show they are neurasthenic. Look at the
books written about them that they feed on. Books which won’t allow a
single natural normal impulse or fact of sex to go unanalyzed. Books which
question every duty. Books which are merely tracts in favor of barrenness.
Books written almost always by people who live abnormally. After a diet of
that, can any woman live with a man wholesomely—can she keep her mind
clear and fine?”
Walter shook his head—then laughed.
“Well—what are you going to do about it?”
“I’m not going to do a damned thing but growl about it, I suppose. As a
matter of fact I don’t care what most women do. But when I see the fakirs
lay their hands on Helen—Helen, who is about as perfect a woman—” he
stopped abruptly, and then went on. “I’m not a very good person to talk to
on this woman question. I’m balled up, you see. I only know that the trend
is dangerous. They got their inch of political equality. Now they want an ell.
They don’t want to be women any longer.”
“It’s all interesting,” answered Walter. “Of course, it’s difficult not to
think in terms of one’s own experiences. Now I never have seen a woman
like Miss Duffield. Of course I haven’t an idea that she’ll have me. But
personally I’d be quite willing to trust to her terms if she did. I’ve never
seen a woman of more essential honesty.”
They were disinclined to talk further. Gage, after a few trivialities, left
Walter to his dream, conscious that what he had said had produced no
disturbance or real question in the other’s mind. It was easy for one to
transcend generalities with the wonderful possibilities of any particular
case, Gage knew. He’d done it himself.

III

Unconsciously as he went toward his home, he was doing it again. He

had never lost the magic of going home to his wife. Entering the still hall,
where the single lamp cast tiny pools of light through the crystal chandelier,
he was pervaded by her presence. Somewhere, awake or asleep, above that
stairway, was Helen. The gentle fact of it put him at peace.
Her door was closed and he went softly past it to his own room. Then, in
a dressing gown, he settled himself in an easy chair by a reading lamp, no
book before him, cherishing that mental quiet which surrounded him.
Down the hall he heard her door open quietly and her footfall on the soft
rug. She had heard him come in and was come to say good night. With a
quick motion he turned out the light beside him and waited.
“Asleep, Gage?” She spoke softly, not to awaken him, if he were asleep.
“No—resting—here by the window.”
She found her way to him and he gathered her up in his arms.
“You wonderful bundle of relaxation! Have you any idea how I love you
like this?”
“Do you know, Gage, I think that for all our bad moments that we are
really happier than most people?”
“There’s no one in the world, dear, as happy as I am at this moment.”
“And it isn’t just because I’m—”
He bent his head to her, stifling her sentence.
“You mustn’t talk—don’t say it. It isn’t because of anything. It just is.”
“I know. And when it is—it swallows up the times when it isn’t.”
“Hush, sweetheart. Let’s not—talk. Let’s just rest.”
He felt her grow even easier in his arms. All the instinct for poetry in
him, starved, without vehicle, sought to dominate the relentlessness of her
mind, working, working in its tangles of thought. The meaning of his
inexpressible love for her must come through his arms, must be compelling,
tender. They sat together in the big chair enfolded in peace. And the same
little secret thought ran from one to the other, comforting them. This is the
best.
 CHAPTER VI

MARGARET

M ARGARET made the faintest little grimace of dismay at the long

florist’s box for which she had just signed the receipt presented by the
messenger. It wasn’t a grimace of displeasure but a puzzled look as if
the particular calculation involved was an unresolved doubt. Then she cut
the pale green string and lifted the flowers out.
There were flowers for every corner, fresia, daffodils, narcissus—
everything that the florist’s windows were blooming with during this
second week of May. She touched them with delight, sorted them, placed
them in every bit of crockery she could find. But Mrs. Thorstad sat in a
chair drawn up before the mission oak table in Margaret’s little rented
apartment and waited. She was impatient that the flowers should have come
at a moment when their discussion hinged on a crisis. And as if her respect
for Margaret had fallen a little, she eyed the display without appreciation.
Margaret talked, as she placed the flowers, however, as if she could separate
her mental reactions from her esthetic.
“Well,” she said, “you saw the way the thing went. It was absolutely cut
and dried. I knew there was no chance of getting a woman elected as one of
the regular delegates to the National Convention. Pratt and Abbott were the
slate from the beginning. Every one knew Gage Flandon wanted them and
every one knew that meant they were Joyce’s choice if Flandon wanted
them. I had talked to Mr. Flandon about it but he wouldn’t tell me anything
really revealing. Except that the slate was made up and while they were
very glad to have the women as voters that it might be better to wait another
four years before they gave them a chance to sit in at a National
Convention. He didn’t intend to have a woman and especially he didn’t
intend to have one because he knew there was some agitation to send his
own wife.”
“That was what the mistake was, I think, Miss Duffield. I think another
candidate might have done better.”