With the party still blaring, I storm up the stairs. Not even bothering to knock, I throw open JB’s door and what I see has my arms shooting out for support.

Shit.

With bright red lashes all down his back, JB pounds into a girl who struggles to breathe. With his hands wrapped around her throat, I watch in horror as life drains from her face. Gritting his teeth, JB fucks her harder, twisted glee shining in his eyes.

“JB!”

Lifting his head, he glares over at me but doesn’t let up.

“What the fuck?” Dropping my arms, I cross them and lean against the door frame. Meeting his glare I look at him expectantly. “Let her go.”

Ever since we made it out of the slavery, shit hasn’t been easy for JB. The thick skin and easygoing attitude that he had while we were trapped was replaced with night terrors and anger so raw that when he would finally lose his shit, it took the whole armory to bring him down.

I fucking hate it.

He usually never fucks at the club but between the aroma of sex in the air and the roar of the party, I should have known.

Letting out a growl, he lets go of the chick’s throat and pulls out, not bothering to finish or cover up.

Rolling over, the poor bitch chokes and gasps for breath. “Get the fuck out,” JB barks, not giving her a second glance. Walking over to his dresser, he grabs a pair of sweats.

She stumbles past me with her hands around her throat and I get out of her way. Tears stream down her face as she rushes down the hall, bumping into the walls as she goes. I want to feel sorry for the girl but it’s hard to when you know she asked for it, despite all the rumors about how crazy and murderous JB is in bed, how the women throw themselves at him hoping to see if the stories are true… hoping to tame his beast.

It’s pathetic.

Shutting the door, I lean up against it and watch as he gets dressed, unable to meet my eyes.

“Spit it out, Kodah,” he growls, reaching for a shirt.

The bright red lashes that mar his skin stretch with each movement. Unease drips through my veins forcing me to look away.

Not long after we got here the night terrors started. You could hear his screams throughout the whole house. Brothers never addressed it because, well, it’s none of their business and he isn’t the only one who sees his demons in his sleep. The difference is those demons followed JB once he woke up. They clung to him until he was so weighed down by fear and grief he just exploded. He got his road name Rage because that’s all he seems to have. Gone was the sarcastic know-it-all I knew, in his place was someone so angry not even Satan could war with him.

After his third meltdown, we had serious cleanup to do; bodies to bury, feds to pay off. We ended up having to chain his ass to the bed he was so lost. I hated myself for it, too. I couldn’t leave his fucking side. There I was having to watch my brother thrash around on his bed, begging to be let go and not being able to do shit about it.

I thought I had truly fucking lost him.

After he had tired himself out, Pops came in forcing me out of the room. He had stayed in there for four solid hours before they both came out calm and seemingly okay. After that, JB took off and didn’t come back for two days. When he did show back up, he was a different person… it was almost like having the old JB back.

After that every time he would start to lose his shit, he would just disappear. He wouldn’t tell me where he was going, but after one night of following him I found out.

He knows I know, too. He found me waiting for him by his bike demanding an explanation, demanding to know why he did this to himself, why he needed it. But no matter his reason, there isn’t a damn thing is this world I could ever do to stop him. I saw the truth of it in his eyes as he tried to explain it.

The place feeds the monster inside him, it keeps him sane. Every time he comes back from there it’s like the world has been lifted off his shoulders if only for a few hours, before the night brings it back.

I may never understand… but who am I to judge.

Pulling the shirt over his head, he hisses in pain and I grit my teeth wanting to knock some sense into him.

“Don’t,” he barks, straightening up and facing me. “I don’t want to fucking hear it.”

Letting it go, I push off the door, my arms still crossed. “We need to talk.”

Walking over to his bed, he sits down and places his elbows on his knees. “Talk.”

“I ran into Drifter and Buck,” I say, preparing myself for what I am about to tell him. “Marx is still alive.”

Waiting for a reaction, it doesn’t come. Instead, a chill cold enough to frost the windows takes over the room as he sits there unmoving.

“He’s after Emmy,” I say through clenched teeth. “Been after her for a while from what I can tell. They are moving her to Drifter’s to keep her safe.”

Still unmoving he asks, “They are just now telling you this?” His voice is low and hard.

Nodding, I look away.

The fact that she has been in danger this whole time makes me feel things that can get a man in trouble. They should have fucking told me.

“Why the fuck are they coming to you now?”

Tension seeps out of me at his question. “Because the threat has gotten worse. With her here and them busy trying to track Marx down, they are going to need extra eyes on her.”

“You think this has to do with-”

“I don’t know,” I answer cutting him off, not wanting to relive the gory days.

“She remember you?”

My stomach sinks. “Not yet,” I choke out. “But she’s getting there. With her moving back, it’s just a matter of time.”

He just stares at me, thoughts as obvious as day and night run through his head.

He doesn’t trust both Buck and Drifter. I don’t fully trust them either. Lies and secrets are still hidden in the cracks.

Running my hand down my face, I keep going, “I don’t give a shit about them. If she’s here, I won’t be able to stay away.” My voice comes out stronger than I feel. “When she steps foot in my town, I am making her mine again,” I say with conviction.

A smile stretches along JB’s face, an expression he hardly shows anymore. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“Nothing good ever is,” I answer automatically. “I’m done trying to stay away, I’m done missing her. Fuck them both, that place took enough from us. Deep down she remembers me, it’s just time to bring it to light.”

Giving me a single nod he looks away, the smile slipping from his face as memories flash before his eyes.

“You both deserve to be happy.”

“We all do, brother.”

“What about Marx? You just going to put it in those two fucks’ hands and hope they handle shit again?”

I shake my head. “No. I need you to get as much information as you can, we are doing this together. It’s time we finish off that list for good.”

A haunting smile skirts across his face as his eyes shine bright. “He wasn’t even on the list.”

“Well, he is now.”

* * *

“Alright assholes, shut the fuck up,” Pop orders at the head of the table.

JB and I stand near the door watching all the chaos go down. The new cut rests heavy on my shoulders and the prospect patch feels right… this is right.

“We got two new men prospecting for us hoping to become members of the Soulless Sinners,” he continues and all eyes turn to us, some with suspicion and distrust in their eyes, others with amusement and laughter and some even shine with pity.

“Finally, we got some fresh fucking meat to take care of shit around here!” One guy shouts, slapping his hand down on the table. “I’m tired of fucking doing all the bitch work, I hate doing my own laundry.”

“Why don’t you have one of the whores do it?” Another guy mocks.

“Because those bitches get glitter and other bodily fluids all over it before I even get a chance to wear it!”

“You ready to know what it means to be a prospect?” The guy sitting to the right of Pops asks pulling my attention. I recognize him as the VP, also Prez’s son Bo.

“I’m sure you’re going to fucking tell us,” JB counters and tension fogs the room.

Leaning back in his chair, Bo narrows his eyes and Pops watches on unfazed… proud.

“It means that for however long we see fit, you are our bitches. To earn a member patch on your cut you will be doing everything we tell you to, no questions asked.” Crossing his arms, he smirks. “You gunna be able to handle that?”

“Doesn’t have shit on what we have already been through,” JB growls and the smirk leaves Bo’s face.

I just stand there quiet, watching everyone’s reactions while JB and Bo go back and forth.

“We tell you to bury a body, what are you going to do?”

“Ask where the fucking shovel is,” JB answers.

“We get a shipment of illegal shit, what are you going to do about it?”

“Move it, get it sold.”

Surprise flashes in Bo’s eyes. “This isn’t a resort. We don’t get complimentary breakfasts and rooms with a view. We got sluts making our food and feeding it to us while they ride our dicks. We got bars on our windows so no one breaks the fuck in. People respect us and fear us. Drugs, guns, bitches, and bodies is our fucking normal. We don’t got fucking time for pussies with weak stomachs who lose it at the sight of death.”

“Like I said,” JB states punctuating each word, “you don’t have shit on us.”

Giving a single nod, Bo looks to Pops and a silent conversation passes between them before Pops stands up. Sliding a piece of paper and pen that I hadn’t noticed before down the table, I stare at it.

Stepping forward I pick it up and turn it over before my eyes go to Pop’s brutal stare.

It’s blank.

“What’s this?” I ask, speaking for the first time.

“Before you begin prospecting we are going to give you some motivation. We are going to show you what it means to be a member of the Soulless Sinners.”

“What does it mean?”

“Loyalty.”

Confused I look around the room then back down at the paper.

“Write down any person’s name that has ever done you wrong and with the club at your back, we will help you rectify it.”

“Like a hit list?” I ask, my body buzzing at the thought. I can feel JB step up next to me in excitement.

Not getting an answer, I look back up to Pops. “You are going to help me find and gain revenge on the people who have done us wrong?” I ask in disbelief. “Why?”

“Because once you are a member, no one fucks with you. Past, present, future… it doesn’t fucking matter. We would go to war for our brothers, that’s what being a member means,” Pops answers.

Meeting JB’s eyes, bloodlust peers back at me.

“You have one month to lay it all out.”

* * *

Fire burns high, destroying everything in its path. Standing back, I keep an eye on JB as he watches his past fall to ashes.

“I underestimated you two,” Bo says stepping beside me, a shovel thrown over his shoulder and a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

It’s been 2 weeks since Pops handed us a chance at revenge.

We haven’t wasted a single second.

The first person on our list had been my father. I had it all planned out. Every gory detail down to his last breath was mapped out in my mind. I dreamed about it the entire way back to my home city – New York. I couldn’t wait to beat and torture him like I had been, I couldn’t wait to hear him beg, to watch him take his last breath. But when we finally made it up the long elevator ride and walked into his billion dollar office… I just couldn’t fucking do it. I looked around at the pristine room and felt nothing. Pictures on his desk showed him and my mom with not a care in the world… it showed them moving on from me… it showed another son.

When my dad walked in to find myself, JB, Bo and Tank standing there, I didn’t even blink as I pulled out my gun and shot him where he stood.

I just ended it.

JB on the other hand is a whole other story… We have spent the last three hours watching him torture his parents as they hung from the rafters in the barn before burning it all to the ground.

“Does it always feel like this?” I ask, ignoring his comment. “Clearing out your list?” I clarify, watching JB’s shoulders sag with obvious relief as it all dies.

“I wouldn’t know,” Bo answers, his voice gruff.

Turning to him, I watch something flash across his face blending with the light of the fire.

“You didn’t have a list?”

“I have one. I just haven’t been able to finish it yet.” Something in the way he answers lets me know he isn’t going to elaborate.

“Who else you got on that list?” he asks, changing the subject.

Pulling the bloodstained and torn piece of paper from my pocket, I unfold it. Our list had started out a lot longer until we realized just how many people actually died that day in the explosion… they had been let off easy.

Checking out the names scribbled down, I shake with anticipation.

Folding it back up I look back out to JB. “We got one left… how does Mexico sound?”

Letting out a laugh, Bo answers, “It sounds fucking violent.”

* * *

Finding Manuel wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. His name is well known and feared throughout Mexico. Looking at him now bleeding out at my feet, he doesn’t look all that scary. With a sadistic satisfaction coursing through me, I smile.

“How does it feel to be the one on the receiving end of death?” I ask, even though I know he won’t answer.

Leaving him to choke on his own blood, I turn and face JB.

“Where did everyone go?”

“To take care of the witnesses,” he answers, his eyes not leaving Manuel’s dying body. “What do you think he meant by it not being over?”

Shrugging I stare down at my bloodied and cut up hands. “Who fucking knows,” I answer. “He said a lot of shit. But everyone who would come after us is dead.”

“You ever figure out who her family is?” he asks.

Annoyance pricks at my skin. “No, not a fucking thing.” It doesn’t help that I never knew her real last name. I should have asked her, but honestly it didn’t fucking matter to me because the way I saw it, the only last name she should have was mine.

“We won’t stop looking,” he answers, understanding my frustration... My need to get revenge for Emmy, it’s all I can offer her right now.

Nodding, I take a deep breath.

“So that’s it then? Everyone on our list?” he asks and I pull it out of my pocket one last time.

“That’s it.” Meeting JB’s eyes I see the glee as he looks at it in my hand.

“I can’t believe they did this for us,” he murmurs reaching out for the paper. “They killed without question…they had our backs.”

Handing it over I just nod. “This what you want to do JB?” I ask, watching him stare down at the scribbled out names. “You want to prospect? Be a member?”

Taking a lighter from his pocket he lights the list on fire, the names vanishing like their lives.

Meeting my gaze, he doesn’t even need to answer. Excitement and disbelief reflect the same way I feel.

“Then let’s go fucking home.”