I’d hoped Vaughn was wrong. I wanted him to be wrong in every way possible. But his words had solidified my rampant thoughts and insecurities, and he made me believe that Ramsey really didn’t want me.

I had caused trouble. I should have fucking listened, and because of my stubbornness, I put myself and Ruck in danger, and consequently, made an awful situation so much worse. I wouldn’t have blamed Ramsey for hating me. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he never wanted to see me again. But seeing his face, feeling his body, knowing he’s trying to save me from myself, makes me realize that I’m not dreaming up the connection. I’m not imagining the pull between us—the call of our souls.

“Who was the unlucky guy?” Ramsey asks as he twirls my hair around his finger mindlessly. When I’m wrapped up in Ramsey’s hard, warm body, it is easy to forget that we’re in a dingy motel room. But being anywhere with Ramsey is good with me.

I prop myself up on my elbow and stroke his chest with my index finger. “The man in the alley?”

He frowns. “Is there more than that one guy?”

I laugh. “No, just the one.” I shrug. “He’s a known asshole.”

“Sadie.” Ramsey slips out from underneath me and mirrors my position so we’re facing each other. “Donny Carden.” He pauses, and my heart beats faster, still feeling conflicted about Donny Carden and the person he’s turned me into. “Was he the first man you killed?”

I swallow loudly, and my senses swim with recollection. I can still see him, still smell his filthy blood. “Yes,” I whisper.

“Why? What made you choose him? What made you put your life on the line for a man like him? Having blood on your hands is a burden, babe. It could have ended so differently. You could have been locked up for the rest of your life. Prison is not a walk in the park. Would that have been worth it for one asshole?”

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation, meeting his concerned gaze. “Because I killed him, I’ve saved countless small girls from a lifetime of physical and emotional pain. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” I sit up, tucking my knees into my chest and resting my chin on them, staring at the surprisingly clean white sheets and the heavily pressed line running down the middle.

“Sadie.” He sighs, placing a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it away, retreating into my head, partly hating myself for the person I’ve become.

A killer.

A ruthless, unapologetic killer.

I can’t wash the blood from my hands, and I wouldn’t want to. I don’t hate the fact that I’ve killed. I’m terrified because I’ve enjoyed it. I’ve taken Donny Carden’s life, and one after that, too. I don’t regret it. I would do it all over again because I know I’ve prevented more poor girls having to live in hell. Having to see their abuser’s faces every time they close their eyes and smell their sweaty, forceful bodies even though they’re not near.

“I don’t like what I’ve become, Ramsey. I’m not proud of myself. But I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. In fact, I hope I do get the chance.” The hatred I feel for every single rapist, every pedophile, every abuser that walks around like it’s their right to take what they want, has driven me to this. It stokes a fire in my belly.

My head is screwed up. It has been since the night I was raped and left without the two people that were the most important people in the world to me. I can’t save myself. I’m too far gone. But I can, and I will save others.

“What’s driving you, Raven?” he asks softly, brushing the hair from my face. “Are you living out a personal vendetta?” He swallows loudly, his body becoming tense beside me as if he fears my answer.

“Yes,” I reply simply, straightening my back and flicking my head around to meet his gaze.

He backs up, climbing off the bed and looking down at me with narrowed eyes and flared nostrils. “Tell me you weren’t—”

“Raped as a child?” I snap. Anger, frustration, and years of suppressed emotion bolts through me. Day upon day of keeping the truth to myself, not speaking it aloud, has made me bitter and twisted, and most of all, so full of the desire for revenge that I can’t see anything else. But now Ramsey can see. I don’t have to use words to confirm it—he can see by the look in my eyes and the way my body shakes with pain and brokenness at just the thought of that moment in my life.

Ramsey’s jaw clenches, his eyes harden, and his shoulders widen. “Who?” he demands harshly through barely controlled breaths and gritted teeth.

I stand up off the bed, facing Ramsey on the opposite side. “The man who killed my mom and brother,” I tell him, raising my chin, and fighting the emotion that pushes up through my chest every time I think of them and that night. “He didn’t just take everyone that was dear to me—he also took my innocence. He took who I was. Who I was meant to be. He may as well have killed me.” My lip quivers and Ramsey jumps across the bed and folds me tightly in his arms.

His body trembles with rage, and he takes my face in his hands. “Do you know who it was?” he asks, and I shake my head sadly as tears sneak from the corners of my eyes. He wipes them away with his thumbs, then presses my head gently into his chest, holding me closely, protectively. “We’ll find him. I’ll find him.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start, I—” I’ve tried to find out as much as I could about that night, but there were no clues. No leads. The case was closed due to lack of evidence, and there were no records, no photographs, and no DNA samples. It was like my mom and brother never even existed.

“I’ll sort it.”

“But, how?” I plead.

Determination is set hard in his eyes. Tiredness, worry, and burden contributing largely to the lines on his face. Lines that speak of a hard life, of many tough times and heavy responsibilities. “I promise that whoever did this to you will not go unpunished.” He presses his lips to my forehead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you…about the fight being dangerous.”

He pulls away, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “You fuckin’ women never do as you’re goddamn told.” He grabs up his jeans and starts to tug them on, and I feel like he’s just given me whiplash by going from the most caring, tender moment to the gaping distance and icy atmosphere between us.

“You’re mad at me,” I state. Maybe I deserve it, I know. I’ve beaten myself up over it ever since it happened.

“Yes, I’m fuckin’ mad at you.” He glances at me then snaps his gaze away. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“I know,” I say, nodding softly. “I’m sorry.” He continues getting dressed, and I start to feel extremely vulnerable standing here, naked of his touch, stripped bare of my emotion. “Your brother, Ruck…” I start, hoping he will continue. I can still hear the panic in his voice when he told me to run. I recall the van taking him away. “The Wolves.”

“They fucked him up. But we’ve got him back, and he’s not dead,” he informs me in a very matter-of-fact tone.

“They what? What did they do to him?” I ask desperately. Then my voice grows quiet. “He saved me.”

“If you hadn’t been there in the first place, you wouldn’t have needed saving,” he snaps, glaring hard at me.

“I said I’m sorry.” I scoop my jeans off the floor, flicking them out between us and straightening out the legs. “And I mean it. But I can’t change what happened.” I shrug sadly. “I made a mistake, Ram. But if you’re going to throw it back in my face every time it’s mentioned, then you can take me back to San Francisco.”

“You’re not going back,” he barks at me.

“Then tell me what the fuck happened to Ruck and Dev, and stop blaming me for something that I can’t change!” I yell out of frustration, tugging my clothes on and trying to control the breaths heaving in my chest.

“You don’t wanna know what happened…”

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t wanna know. Because, of course, that’s why I asked.” I roll my eyes. “Look, Ramsey.” I stand with my hands on my hips because if I don’t, I’ll be picking up the nearest object and tossing it at his head. “If we’re gonna do this: me, you, us…You’ve gotta stop treating me like all the whores that have come and gone from your life so far, and start treating me like an equal. I’m not a shrinking violet. I won’t cower to you or any of your biker brothers, and I won’t be treated like a fucking fool.” He stops what he’s doing, raising his brows at my outburst, but doesn’t say a word. “Tell me what happened to Ruck,” I demand, jerking my chin up. “Please.”

“The Wolves took him.” He glances away, readying himself to recall what his brother has been through. “They drugged him out of his goddamn mind, which, probably is a godsend, I suppose. Then they nailed him to a fucking cross and carved a W into his chest. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I thought it was them. He told me to run, he…saved me from The Wolves.”

“But you were arrested?” he asks, closing the distance between us, but not yet touching me.

I nod. “The Wolves screeched off when the SWAT truck came screaming around the corner. I couldn’t help him, Ram. I would’ve helped him if I could.”

“I know.” He shakes his head and looks away.

“I should never have gone there. I am sorry, Ramsey,” I offer, stepping closer to him.

“I’m pissed at you, Sadie,” he grumbles, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“I know you are. I’m pissed at me too.” I sigh. “But it’s done. We can’t go back. If we could, lots of things would be different. And you need to decide how long you’re gonna be pissed at me because I’m not gonna ride back with you to Reno if you’re gonna give me the silent treatment or keep throwing it back in my face. I’m choosing you, Ram.” He looks up at me, his eyes softening, but still full of worry.

“I can’t promise life will be easy with me back in Reno.” He sighs.

“I wouldn’t want you to.”

“Your stepdad’s not gonna like it…”

“He’s not my stepdad. Besides, I’m a grown woman. I make my own choices.” I slide my hands around his waist and press my body against his. He resists for a moment, and I hold him just a little bit tighter.

“Yes.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around me protectively and resting his head on mine. “You certainly do.”