I’ve just finished my last bit of inventory, a task that took a couple days more than it fucking should have, but it’s done and that’s all that matters. When my phone rings, I answer it without even looking at the name on the caller ID. I’ve been expecting Hayden to call me, it’s been too long since I’ve heard her voice.

“Where you at right now?” Snake’s voice demands on the other end of the line.

I frown, looking down at my boots. “Idaho, just finished inventory. Going to head out tomorrow probably, what’s up?”

I hear him moving around, and I walk out of the warehouse, afraid that I’m going to lose reception inside.

“I need you and Free back here, immediately. Bring some Idaho brothers with you if possible, have some other ones take the truck to its next destination,” he orders.

My frown deepens, and I look at Free who is leaning against the side of the building, his head back and his eyes closed. “Tell me what the fuck is going on,” I growl.

At my irritation, Free lifts his head and his eyes focus on me. He begins to walk toward me, obviously concerned by my growl and tone. When he reaches my side, he plants his fists on his hips—waiting.

“It’s Hayden and Easton,” Snake finally mutters. He sounds choked up, and my entire body goes on even higher alert.

My throat goes dry at his words and my knees bend, weakening. “What about them?” I rasp.

He clears his throat. “They’re missing, brother,” he whispers.

The phone falls from my hand and clatters onto the ground. From the corner of my eye, I see Free pick it up and hold it to his ear.

My knees completely buckle as I fall into the dirt.

I yell, the sound more like an animalistic roaring than anything human. Men begin to surround us, and I hear voices, but I don’t know what they’re saying.

I can’t make out any words.

All I can do is yell as my heart feels like it’s going to fucking explode.

“You need to lock that shit down,” Free growls, wrapping his fingers around my shoulder and squeezing hard.

I look up at him, my eyes glassy because I’m a goddamn pussy, but then his are the same as he looks down at me. “We’re getting her back, but you have to lock your shit down, or you’ll be no fucking good to either of them.”

Slowly, I rise to my feet. The men standing around me, they all look concerned as fuck, and I don’t blame them. I should be embarrassed for my mini breakdown, but I’m not. If any of them were as far away as I am and had got word their woman and kid were gone, they’d probably do the same.

“Church, twenty minutes, call whoever isn’t here and tell them to get their asses down here, now,” Fury shouts. I watch as he turns around and stomps back inside of the clubhouse.

Free lifts his hand and wraps it around the back of my neck, squeezing it as he presses his forehead to mine. We both close our eyes and he speaks, his voice sounding strained and fucking lethal.

“We’re going to find them, Croon. When we do, you get to torture that fucking racist who took them. I’m sick of those fucks, and it all ends right goddamn now,” he growls.

He releases me, and I take a step back. “They know who has her?”

“Your woman is strong, and she’s smart. Spelled out Jack with Easton’s socks on the floor of his closet. That’s all we know, but I bet my ass they’re holed up at that fucking compound. It’s not too far away, and he’s a pussy, he would want its protection.”

I nod, agreeing with his words as I rub my hand over my face. “Let’s do this meeting, then get the fuck out of here,” I state.

“Looks like the six-week timeline was just bumped the fuck up,” he grins.

I chuckle, lifting my chin. “You bet your goddamn ass.”

The first night here, Jack and I slept in the same bed, but he didn’t touch me. I couldn’t explain the relief I felt, even if I didn’t sleep. This morning he woke me up and told me to get dressed. I hurried through my routine in an effort to keep his temper mild-mannered. We walked outside, and that’s when I saw the sheep assembling to zombie-walk toward the big block building again.

“Breakfast,” Jack murmurs.

Once we’re let inside of the brick building, I look around and all of the tables are scattered with chairs around them instead of lined up in front of the stage. Jack guides me over toward a long line where it looks like people are being served.

When it’s my turn, I pick up my plate and tray, sliding it alongside the metal railing. A woman wordlessly piles some scrambled eggs on my plate, then a link of sausage, and finally a biscuit. I pick up some silverware at the end and look around for jelly or jam for my biscuit, but there isn’t any.

Following Jack, I wait for him to sit down at the table of his choice, and only when he’s seated, do I sink down to my own chair. Nobody is talking, the only sound filling the space is the scraping of forks against plates.

I don’t attempt to speak to anyone, my main goal still is to observe and plot my escape. Once the food is finished, Zachary magically appears at the front of the room.

“Men, it’s shift change. Women, back to your cabins,” he announces.

Like the zombies they are, all of the women rise and turn, heading toward the cabins. “Brother Jack,” Zachary calls out as we stand.

Jack’s back stiffens, and he turns slowly to face Zachary. “I need her,” he states, pointing directly at me.

Jack doesn’t move his head, but I notice his eyes shift to look at me, then back to Zachary. Jack takes a step back from us, turns and walks away.

Zachary holds his hand out for me and my stomach twists. For the first time in the past three years, I wish I was with Jack. Slipping my hand into his waiting palm, I try not to shiver in fear.

Jack isn’t nice, he’s a complete asshole, but for the most part, I can gauge his reactions to things. He’s the devil I know, Zachary is a complete mystery, and Zachary holds all of the power here—which is scary as shit.

We walk, me slightly behind him, away from the building and the cabins. There’s a wooded area ahead and my heart begins to race as I realize that he’s taking me there. “Your son hasn’t been adjusting well in the nursery,” he explains.

My heart leaps into my throat at his words. “I’m taking you to him. I had him brought to my private residence last night. I have a nanny on hand for my own children. She’s very good, and she told me to bring you,” he explains.

I don’t know why, but his voice calms me, although I know it’s a false sense of calm, I decide to allow myself to feel it right now, especially since I’m going to be able to see my son. “Jack tells me that the bikers who took you, violated you and marked you,” he rambles.

“They did,” I lie.

He nods, slipping his hand out of mine and shifting it around my waist. He forces me to walk right next to him and my spine straightens.

“I don’t have a queen,” he explains. “Jack should have never been given a woman, let alone one as beautiful, young, and fertile, as you are, Hayden,” he says.

We continue walking but my breathing changes to quick pants. I’m fucking terrified. I don’t even want to be here, let alone this fucker’s queen. However, maybe I’ll have a little more freedom? Maybe I’ll be able to figure out a way out of here if I play along?

“But you have children,” I point out.

He chuckles, his fingers squeezing my waist. “I do. Typically, I can choose who I wish to lay with, and every time a new batch of women come in, I take advantage of that situation. I’ve been able to produce eight soldiers and three future breeders for the cause.” My stomach turns at his words, he is vile, completely and totally vile.

We walk into the woods and I gasp at the sight in front of me. It’s a mansion, a colonial-style mansion. There are a group of children playing on some equipment and I smile when I see Easton running around. He isn’t playing with the other children, but he isn’t screaming, so I suppose that’s good.

I know the moment he sees me. He stops in his tracks and then he moves as quickly as his little chubby legs will allow him, toward me. When he’s close enough, I scoop him into my arms and plant a million kisses all over his cheeks while he squeals in delight.

Zachary’s hand slips from my waist and allows me my precious moments with Easton. “Yes, I think you will fit in nicely here, Hayden,” he grins.

Clutching Easton to my chest, I glance over at Zachary, waiting for him to say more. “Bring the child with you, we have much to discuss,” he rasps, taking my hand and tugging me toward the large home.

Once we’re inside, I’m not even given a second to look around. I hurry behind him toward a room that looks like an office. He guides me over to a chair and I sit down while he skirts the side of his desk and takes a seat as well.

“Like I’d mentioned, Jack isn’t the suitor for you. The only ties you have to him is that child in your lap. I would like to bring you here, have a trial run for us,” he grins.

“A trial run?” I ask, my voice breathy.

He tips his chin down slightly. “I’ve stayed single too long to marry someone without having a trial. I propose we have a twelve-week trial marriage. You’ll live here under my roof with your boy. The first six-weeks will be just getting to know one another and adjusting. The second six-weeks we’ll explore our sexual relationship after your possible pregnancy issues are resolved,” he explains.

My heart begins to pound, my breathing becoming labored and I see spots, but I try to calm myself down. The last thing I need to do right now is to faint. I definitely need my wits about me in this place. Zachary is still smiling over at me, and I press my lips together at the same time Easton tugs on my hair.

I know my answer—my son is always the answer. This is a chance to be with him, and if I can get free, he’ll be right here with me. My eyes lift to Zachary’s and I nod.

“Yes, okay,” I say.

His grin turns into a giant smile. He looks almost handsome if he wasn’t such a crazy freak bastard. He stands, walking around his desk again and holds his palm out for me. I slip my fingers inside and rise. Tipping his chin, he brushes his dry lips across my own, I guess sealing the deal.

“Let me show you to your quarters. You and Easton can stay together for the first six-weeks, after that, the room will become his,” he winks.

With each step I take deeper into the house, I feel like it’s my death march, like somehow I’ve just made a deal with the devil and sold my soul. Easton buries his face in my neck and it relaxes me a bit.

I may have made a deal with the devil, and maybe I sold my soul, but for Easton, I would do anything—even if that means I have to be this weirdo’s fucking queen.

Zachary opens the door to a bedroom, and I follow him inside. It’s breathtaking. The entire space is a light robin’s egg blue, and it looks calm and serene with white bedding on what appears to be a fluffy bed. There’s also a crib in the corner.

“This door,” he explains as he walks toward what looks like a closet or attached bathroom door. “Is the door to my bedroom. I expect it to be open at all times, Hayden,” he states.

My eyes widen thinking about it being open while I change or sleep. “You may use my bathroom at any time, that way you don’t have to traipse around the house. But if you’re going to be my queen, we’ll have to get used to one another,” he winks.

I want to cry and run far, far away. I don’t. Not only because I can’t but because I am a survivor. I lift my chin. “Okay,” I nod.

He lifts his hand and cups my cheek with his palm, his thumb running over my bottom lip. “You probably think I’m a monster because of what happened last night to Brother Mark’s woman. You have to know what she did was very wrong. Unfortunately, I have to make examples out of people,” he explains.

I bite the inside of my cheek, giving him a nod. I don’t want to be sick all over him, or the floor, and right now I’m trying really, really hard not to puke. His cold, dead, soulless eyes stare into mine and I realize that he’s really good at hiding all of himself from people, but when you’re up close, you can see just how fucking dead he is inside.

“I understand,” I lie, lowering my gaze to make him feel more important.

He tips my chin back up, and my gaze meets his own. He looks smug and satisfied. “I already know it would be difficult to teach that same lesson, or any lesson, to you, Hayden. You won’t make me do that, will you?” he asks. I shake my head immediately. I don’t plan on being here long enough to have a lesson taught to me, as it is.

“Now, go spend some time with your boy, dinner is in a couple of hours. I’ll have both of your bags brought to the house,” he murmurs.

His lips brush mine again, and then he releases me. I watch as he opens our adjoining bedroom doors, then he turns and walks out of the room.

Once he’s gone, I sit down on the bed, holding Easton against my chest, and I let my tears silently slide down my cheeks. How this happened the way it did, I don’t know. I will survive it though, it’s what I do. I am strong, I have no other choice but to be bathed in strength.