My eyes flit between Samuel and Orville’s faces. Orville hasn’t said much, but the way he’s intently staring at me, I know that he’s not my ally in this—he’s the enemy.

Samuel’s words make me physically ill. It takes everything inside of me not to vomit all over him. Especially when he talks about getting rid of Evalyn, my baby girl.

I’ll die fighting for her life.

Samuel’s eyes slowly drift down my body, then back up to my face. “Sad really,” he mutters.

“What?” I stupidly ask.

He smirks before he speaks. “Sad that they had you in their grasp and they allowed you to be taken from them. I wouldn’t have let it happen if I were in charge back then,” he murmurs.

“They had no idea they were about to get caught,” Orville pipes in.

Samuel turns his gaze from me, and slowly faces Orville. The look on his face is indescribable. It’s a mixture of pure evil, hate, and challenge all rolled into one.

I shrink back, trying to make myself appear smaller than I am. When Samuel reaches out, his reflexes are like lightning. He grabs Orville by the back of the hair and forces him to his knees, all in a matter of seconds.

I stand, stock still as I watch them. Samuel leans down, wrenching Orville’s neck back, his face close and his breathing heavy. “Do not make excuses for those men. They ruined years of planning, years of cultivating. They led monsters to kill good men, men who were trying to build a blood army. Starting over was never the plan. Now, it isn’t a choice. So, do not tell me that they had no idea. They were supposed to prepare for the worst, always prepare for the worst. Instead, they were pussy drunk, fat, and lazy,” Samuel seethes.

Orville takes an audible gulp, the fear in his eyes genuine and radiating from the rest of him. If Orville is scared of Samuel, then I’m fucking terrified. I take small step after small step, backward. I know that I can’t really go anywhere, but I want to be out of his reach if nothing else.

“I’m sorry,” Orville whispers, his voice shaking.

My head jerks, surprised by his apology and the weakness in his voice. I’ve never known a Devil to be weak or to sound weak. Looking back up at Samuel, I see that his hard gaze is still directed at Orville. Directing my gaze back at Orville, there’s something akin to worship in his gaze as he looks back up at Samuel.

I never imagined any of these Aryans were normal, I mean they have to be at least a little crazy, but Samuel is something else to Orville—he’s his leader. Not just head of his terrorist group, or the leader of his club, he’s his leader—Orville worships him. I bet my ass if Samuel asked him to lick his boots or suck his dick, he’d do it happily.

“Not half as sorry as you’re going to be if this plan doesn’t come to fruition. Where is Hayden?” he growls. “I want both of my girls with me when we leave tonight.”

My heart starts to race, pounding against my chest at the mention of leaving tonight. I know that Prescott won’t let me go, but it doesn’t take away from the fear I feel, fear that rushes through me like a fucking bolt of lightning.

“She’s under lock and key, they’re afraid Lucifer is going to take her,” Orville whimpers.

Samuel throws back his head in laughter. “They’re all so fucking stupid.”

I see movement in the corner of my eyes and watch as both Prescott and Free emerge from the hallway. My racing heart starts to slow down, and my breathing becomes a bit more even.

“The doctor is ready?” Samuel asks, his tone much smoother, calmer than it was just seconds ago.

“He’s waiting,” Orville mutters.

“Stand up, you idiot,” Samuel sighs removing his grip from Orville’s hair.

I watch as he stands, his eyes never meeting mine, but instead going straight to the ground. Subservient and submissiveness that I never noticed before pours off of him. Samuel owns him, in every way and for whatever reason, Orville would follow him off of a cliff at this point.

My eyes move from Orville to Prescott’s and I watch him smirk as he raises his gun, pointing it at the back of Samuel’s head, at the same time Free does the same with his to Orville. “You thought you would take my woman, kill my baby?” Prescott asks, his voice deep, scary, and laced with anger.

Samuel’s eyes find mine and I watch as he smirks. “Back of the head? Really, Snake? I never pegged you for a pussy.”

Prescott laughs, the sound filling the air, and usually, it would fill me full of joy, but not right now it doesn’t. “I’m not a pussy, and I’m not about to drop my guard with you, you sick fucker. Back of the head, your back, I don’t give a fuck. All I care about is the fact that you’ll be dead, and I’ll be breathing.”

“Where is the honor in that?” Samuel asks, his voice eerily calm.

Prescott snorts. “Where is the honor of taking another man’s wife and killing his baby?” Prescott hisses.

“Touché,” Samuel grins.

Prescott doesn’t wait for even one more breath. He pulls the trigger and I watch as brains, blood, skull, and hair flies everywhere around me.

Orville lets out a cry. “What the fuck did you do? You don’t know what kind of shit storm you’ve started now.” My head jerks when I hear more gunshots, five to be exact and Orville sucks in a breath.

“Last man standing,” Prescott mutters, walking in front of his dad.

Free backs away and then walks over to me. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t touch me, or even reassure me in any way that everything will be okay.

Both of us stoically watch as Prescott takes in his father. The man who abandoned him and then came back under the guise that it was to mend broken fences, only to discover that he was a traitor and a liar.

Orville lifts his chin, looking right at Prescott, his subservient stance gone, and replaced with one that I recognize as a Devil, as Prescott’s father. “I was trying to save you,” he states.

Prescott tips his head to the side but doesn’t lower his gun. “How?” he asks, but I can tell that he doesn’t believe a word his father says.

“She’s been used, whored by all of those Aryans. She has a purpose with them, not with you. There is no way that the child inside of her will ever be normal. It isn’t pure, just like you, you aren’t pure and look at you,” Orville spits.

Prescott’s body jerks slightly and I wish I could hold him, and shield him from his father’s crazy, hurtful, words. “I’m not pure so there’s something wrong with me?” Prescott asks in a mumble.

“I’ve atoned for my sins, for breeding with someone dirty, and wrong. You haven’t. Your child will be doomed. It’s why I left you, Prescott, there is no hope for you. The only hope we have is to kill that baby, and breed Ginger the way she was meant to be,” he rambles.

My God, the man is certifiable and brainwashed like no other I’ve seen. When I was held hostage, those guys were just gross, but Orville is something different, his mind is completely gone. I glance up at Free whose jaw is clenched as he watches the interaction between father and son.

“Free,” I whisper, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze.

The room is bathed in silence and then I hear the shot after Orville falls to the ground. My house is covered in blood and brains, but I don’t care.

Prescott turns to me.

Free’s hand immediately falls from mine and he steps to the side. I only have eyes for Prescott. He looks so fucking sad, and I want to wrap him up and hold him.

My feet start to move before I realize it and I throw my arms around his neck, tears spilling from my eyes as I cry against his shirt. He holds me, one hand against the back of my head, the other pressing against my back.

It’s over. It’s finally over.

The words play on a loop inside of my head as I hold him, and he holds me. I can’t believe that this is how everything played out.

“I’m taking you to the doctor,” Prescott announces. Lifting my head, I wipe my eyes and look up at him in confusion. “I have to know you’re both okay,” he rasps.

His eyes search mine, and he’s serious. The man is seriously worried about us. Nodding, I lift to my toes and press my mouth against his. Prescott’s lips touch mine, but he doesn’t deepen our kiss, just a soft caress and then he takes a step back.

Looking around my living room, I notice that it’s filled with members of the Devils. Nobody is saying anything; their eyes are on me and Prescott.

I give them a shaky smile and a small wave. I hear a few chuckles and Prescott looks down at me with a smirk. “Go upstairs, rest while we clean this shit up, then we’ll go to the doctor,” he murmurs.

His green eyes capture me as they always do, and I find myself nodding, unable to speak. He reaches down and gently pats my ass. I do as he’s asked, not wishing to be around the dead bodies that litter my living room.

Slowly, I make my way upstairs and then walk directly toward my bed. Pulling the comforter back, I slide between the sheets. As soon as my head hits the pillow my eyes slide closed and I fall asleep.

Ginger walks upstairs and as soon as the bedroom door closes, I turn to my brothers. They’re all giving me pitying looks, but honest to fuck, I don’t need them. Orville was my father, he was the man who raised me, but this man I killed, I don’t even recognize him—he’s a stranger.

“We have bodies to clean and dispose of,” I announce. I’m met with soft grunts from the other men.

The next four hours, that’s what we spend our time doing. Cleaning up the front yard, the living room, and then burning bodies. Devils always burn bodies, it’s our signature, and it’s also one of the easiest ways to get rid of a body’s identifiers. Teeth are the only things left that can identify a body, and once the embers are cool, I’m going to crush them into fine dust.

“None of us saw through him,” Motorhead mutters as we watch and try not to gag on the smell of the seven burning bodies.

I shake my head, looking down at the ground. “Nobody but Free.”.

“I feel like this is bigger than Samuel Jones,” Motorhead announces.

I find that I agree with him. None of this feels like it’s been laid to rest with the deaths of these men. “How many more of them are in town?” I ask, watching the flames in front of me.

“None, this was all he had. The rest are on their way, supposedly,” Free states.

Looking around, I let out a sigh. “Lockdown isn’t practical right now, not for something like this. Yet, it feels necessary.”

“Say the word,” Motorhead grunts.

I can tell he seems itchy as if he’s ready to get everyone rounded up, and locked up. “I’ll send out my decision tonight,” I say.

I’m not ready to make a commitment yet. I want to talk to my vice president, Free, and my sergeant at arms, Crooner, first. I’m not feeling confident in my decision-making skills today. I’m sure that it will all come back to me, but this bullshit knocked me on my ass a bit. I’m going to need my men at my back supporting me, until I’m where I need to be.

Once the fires are out and the bodies are charred beyond any type of recognition, we leave them where they are. I’m going to take care of the bones tonight, but first, I need to get Ginger to the doctor.

My father and Samuel’s words scared me a bit. I definitely don’t think that anything is wrong with my baby, but I also don’t know exactly what they’re capable of, so I just want Ginger to have a checkup to be completely sure.

The men leave, and I tell them that I’ll send out a text in a few hours with my decision. I tell Free to hang around the house as a guard while I’m gone with Ginger, and I send Crooner a text to meet me here in an hour.

Walking upstairs, I quickly shower and change, then I dress before walking over to the bed. Ginger is passed out, looking pale, exhausted, and beautiful all at the same time. Sitting down next to her, I gently wake her up. I keep my intent gaze on her face as her eyes flutter open. A smile plays on her lips as she takes in my face.

“Ready to get a checkup?” I whisper.

She nods, slowly sitting up. She doesn’t stand from the bed, though. She lifts an arm, wraps her fingers around the side of my neck and leans forward. Her lips brush mine, her tongue tasting my lips before she lifts her face. Pressing her forehead against mine, she breathes, her breath fanning my face.

“I love you, Prescott Gordon.”

Lifting my own hand, I wrap it around the side of her neck, as well. “Fuck, Ginger, I love you with everything that I am,” I sigh.

We stay like that for a few beats, then I disengage from her and help her stand up. I watch, unable to keep my eyes off of her as she makes her way to the bathroom to get ready for her appointment.

Today could have turned out so differently. I can’t pretend that I wasn’t scared, that the thought of losing Ginger again, or my baby, didn’t terrify the fuck out of me. It did. They are mine, mine to love but also mine to protect and I’ll do that with my fucking life.