Sloan sat at the table, frozen. Her eyes were locked in a dead stare, her fingers were gripping the arms of her chair, her face was blank. I knew this was all pretty overwhelming, but if Crickett and I could do it, she could too.

I put my hand on hers, making her eyes snap to mine. “Sorry,” she muttered, “I just can’t wrap my head around this. It’s all happening so fast.”

“We can’t drag our feet when it comes to your safety.” I knelt down in front of her, so we could look directly at one another. “I will be here every step of the way. I can at least promise you that small shred of comfort.”

Her hand landed on my cheek. “How am I ever going to thank you for this?”

“You honestly don’t have to thank me, sweetheart.” I held out my hand for her. “Come on, love. You need to get some rest.” I could tell from the bags under her eyes that she hadn’t had a restful night’s sleep in far too long.

She took my hand and I led her up to where she would be staying. We both sat on the bed, and I pulled her into my arms.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she sheepishly questioned.

“Because sometimes we need rescuing even if we don’t know it. I’ll let you get some rest.” I started to pull away from her, but she stopped me.

“Thank you again.” She kissed my lips, a fleeting touch. I wanted nothing more than to kiss her back with all the passion I longed to give to her, but I pulled away.

“Not like this,” I started.

Her brow creased. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to do anything you might regret tomorrow. If we’re ever going to do anything like this”—I motioned between the two of us—“I want it to be because you really want to be close to me.”

“You don’t want to get too close to me, Trent, trust me.” She ran her fingers through her hair with a sigh.

“Why’s that?” I leaned against the wall.

“Because I have demons inside me. They’ll eat you alive.” Her confession affirmed everything I already knew about her.

“Sweetheart, I have a hell in me where your demons hide.”

“Will you stay with me tonight? I really don’t want to be alone right now.” The look in her eyes stopped me cold. There was no way I was going to be able to say no to her.

“Of course.” I pulled my cut off, laying it on top of the dresser. Taking my shirt off next, I handed it to her. “You can sleep in this if you don’t want to sleep in your tank top and shorts.”

She took the white cotton out of my hand then I turned around to let her change and climb into bed. I tossed my boots next to the door and crawled in behind her, keeping my jeans on and staying on top of the comforter.

Rolling onto her side with her back to me, Sloan grabbed my hand. “Will you hold me?”

I did as she asked then kissed her cheek. “Sleep well, sweetheart. I’ll be here all night.”

“Good night. Thank you again.”

I waited to even close my eyes until her breathing got shallow and I knew for sure she was asleep. It took a while, but I finally drifted off into another night’s sleep of tortured dreams from when I was just a kid.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Sitting by my mother’s bedside, gripping her frail hand in mine, I sat listening to the machines and monitors. I knew she was dying, knew there was nothing to be done, but at thirteen, I still believed in miracles. There was still that thin line of silver-coated hope gleaming in the bottom of my heart.

It only took a few months for cancer to render her completely helpless, thrown into hospice care, waiting to die. She was in pain, the once vivacious matriarch of the family now a shell, nonresponsive and crumbling before my eyes.

Being the youngest of the family, I was the closest to her. My older brother was already in the Army and shipped off. My older sister was in Europe studying English literature, and my old man was coping with Jack Daniels and a needle sticking out of his arm back at the house.

Every day, I rode my ten-speed the eight miles from school to the hospital. I sat by her bedside to do homework and keep her company. I couldn’t imagine how lonely it felt to be bedridden by a disease that could not be fought any longer. In those moments, I knew what it felt like to be hopeless. In those moments, I learned how to close off my heart.

I awoke in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, like damn clockwork. I didn’t have to look at the time to know that it was between three and four in the morning. It happened to me every night. Looking over, I checked to make sure that Sloan was still sleeping peacefully. Her mouth was open and a little bit of drool was dripping from the corner onto her pillow.

After getting comfortable again and pulling Sloan tighter into my arms, I was able to drift off to sleep again.

“You piece of fucking shit.” My old man bellowed from his La-Z-Boy in the family room.

Walking through the front door, I threw my backpack onto the floor. I wanted to ignore him, walk right up into my room, lock the door and never come out, but I couldn’t. I knew better, ignoring him would make it worse in the long run.

“Hey pop.” I slumped into the couch adjacent to him.

He grunted. “Beer.” He shook his empty can at me.

I took the dead soldier out of his hand and grabbed him a new one. As I walked back in from the kitchen, he had a bag of powder on the coffee table with a spoon and a lighter.

“You’re going to become less of a pain in my ass right the fuck now.”

I was not an idiot, I knew that my father was a junkie. I had no interest in following his footsteps.

“Dad, I’ll get out of your hair. I don’t want to waste your stash.” I was trying to play off how fucking nervous I was. He had dad power over me. I knew that if he truly wanted to make me do anything in the world, he could. He was the only person that I had left, the last of my family.

“Sit your ass down right now.” He snarled.

I did as he asked.

He grabbed my arm with a needle all ready to fire into my veins. I had never even drank before. My entire body shook.

“Stop squirming. You’ll make me miss your vein and that wouldn’t be good.”

I tried to fight my arm out of his grip, but my hundred and fifty pounds was no match for my dad’s two-hundred plus pounds of pure fucked up rage mixed with dad power.

The needle hit my vein and panic truly set in. I knew how dangerous heroin was, how addictive it was. I resolved that once this was over I would figure out a way to never let this happen again. I would be prepared. I wouldn’t let this continue. How bad can it be only once?

A burst of tingly euphoria started in my chest and radiated out through my entire body. It was a feeling of total peace, mentally and physically. I melted into the couch. Staring at my father as he refilled the needle and started to find his own vein.

I groggily woke up from my weird-ass dreams. I never dreamt about situations when it came to my mother’s passing, just the feelings of it all, how broken those moments had actually made me. But the ones that came from directly after that tragic incident were like a damn movie reel, tormenting me since they happened.

It’d been years since I’d even had contact with anyone in my family; they could have all been dead for all I knew. It was weird to think about being part of a loving family for years and then it all shifting because of one death. My siblings didn’t even go to my mother’s funeral, and my father was so high that I doubted he even remembered the year from us finding out my mother was dying until she passed.

Sloan was snoring softly in my arms, practically in the same position she’d fallen asleep in. My phone started vibrating in my pocket. Shifting to answer it, I was scared I would wake her, but she continued to sleep.

“Hello?” I answered in a low whisper.

“Get to the bar now.” Ryder’s voice was stern.

“I’m at Crickett’s. Do you need me to get her up?”

“No. Grab Collin and tell Crickett to not come here today.”

“Done.”

I knew better than to ask questions. I kissed Sloan’s shoulder, and her eyes fluttered a little as she yawned.

“What time is it?” she asked while stretching.

“Barely six in the morning. Go back to sleep. Crickett is not going in to work at the bar this morning so she’ll take you to the garage and get you all set up. I have to head out.”

“No, stay.” She pulled my arm around her again. There was nothing in the world I wanted to do more than continue to hold Sloan while she slept.

“I wish I could. I’ll come by later to check on you.” I pushed up from the bed.

I grabbed my cut off the dresser, turning to watch Sloan for a few seconds. She looked so content, and it warmed my heart that she felt so comfortable already.

Still shirtless, I made my way down the hall to Collin’s room. I knocked. “Hey, brother. Ryder needs us at the bar.”

I heard him shuffle and curse a few times. “What the fuck could he want right now? It’s fucking early as shit.”

Flinging the door open, he snarled at me. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was pale.

“Hungover?” I asked, taking a step into his room.

He nodded. “Why don’t you have a shirt on?”

“Chick down the hall needed it to sleep in.” I shrugged it off as coolly as I could.

Without questioning it, he grabbed two white shirts out of his drawer and tossed one over to me.

“Thanks. Now let’s get the fuck out of here before Ryder kicks our asses.” I turned on my heels and made my way as quietly passed Crickett’s room as possible. I trotted down the stairs, making sure to leave a note for Crickett before heading out.

“Did he say what was going on?” Collin asked while we were getting on our bikes.

“No—does he ever?”

* * *

What we rolled up on was shocking, to say the very least. I would not have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. There were fire trucks, police cars, and an ambulance already there.

Collin and I parked our bikes with the others and hurried over to Holt. Ryder was talking to Crowley.

“What the fuck happened?” Rage was building up deep, I knew someone had tried to hit us hard.

Holt walked out of earshot of the cops. “We went after the wrong Sinner, or at least they want us to think we did. That stripper is cut up and barely holding on to life right now. Cops found her when they responded to the fire. Luckily, the fire didn’t do too much damage, but the bar is fucked for right now.”

Collin ran his hand over his face. “What do you mean, ‘the wrong Sinner’?”

Holt shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know. Ryder is trying to get details from Crowley.”

“Fuck this. He’s not going to know anything. I’m going to go to the hospital and get to the bottom of this crap,” I seethed.

Holt put his hand on my shoulder. “No. Get over to Ryder’s place. It’s time for church. Red and Jesse are already on their way there now, and Raine is on her way to the garage to meet us there. I didn’t want her hearing any of this.”

I did as I was told, following Holt and Collin to Ryder’s house. We all took seats around his dining room table and waited for our president to get there. The awkward silence that blanketed the group was driving me up a fucking wall.

Ryder stomped in, his face red, his chest puffed out. He took his seat at the end of the table, taking a few breaths before he spoke. “She’s dead.” The words hit the air, coating the room.

“What in the hell is going on?” Red spit out.

Ryder took a deep breath. “Apparently, Ralph didn’t die that night. Somehow that son of a bitch didn’t bleed out before someone found him. He figured out that his old lady ratted, and the cops found her in the parking lot of the bar with Ralph’s nuts in her mouth and ‘slut’, ‘whore’, and ‘snitch’ carved all over her body. She was dead before they even got her to the hospital.”

I slammed my fist on the table. “This is fucking bullshit.”

Holt put his hand in the air. “I’m in agreement with Trent. What are we going to do about this?”

All the guys started grumbling about revenge, but Ryder shook his head. “We need to take a step back, play this smarter from now on. I want all of those fuckers wiped off the map just as much as the rest of you do, but we are not going to get anywhere by being sloppy like the last time. We’re going to lay low, rebuild the bar, and in the meantime, try to figure out who to actually take out. Ralph is on a shoot first, ask questions later order, though. Any of you see him, call for backup and take him out. Other than that, no more violence.”

“What the fuck? Ryder, are you kidding?” Jesse jumped to his feet. “We need to show them we are not weak.”

Ryder gripped the end of the table. “A dead chick was just carted away from our damn doorstep. We need to make sure none of this shit blows back on us, is that clear? The cops could try to pin this shit on us if we aren’t careful. There’s a ball-less jackass running around, out for our blood. We need to be smart.”

Holt leaned onto his elbows with his head in his hands. “So, we go on working at the garage and cleaning up the bar?” He was looking right at his son.

“Exactly. I’m going to meet with Crowley again later today. Trent and Red, we need y’all to head to the garage and get to work. We have a few pickups today. Jesse and Ozzy, I need you to go to the bar and assess the damage. Collin, stay with your mother and sister at your place today. Round up a few of the other guys to keep that place as safe as possible. I want guards ready and waiting. All of your families could be in danger, so bring everyone over to Crickett’s. We’re going on lockdown. Have them bring sleeping bags and shit. No one goes anywhere alone. Dad, you’re with me. Is that understood?”

“Aye, brother.” Holt stood up. “Let’s get to work, gents.”