In the compound, it was quiet.

Marini had beaten Ratchet for tattooing the club logo on my thumb. The mark that signified I was one of them and not property. Dad didn’t like it.

Dad didn’t like it.

I didn’t want to believe it, but I’d hoped I was back because he wanted his daughter in his life. That this wasn’t about his pride or a shady human trafficking deal or even about power. Who wanted to follow a president who couldn’t control his own flesh and blood?

Chaser had said Marini had always known where I was. Was this why? Because one day he might need me to solidify a deal?

Holding up my hand, I stared at the tattoo. A thin crust had formed over the design, much like the one over my heart. I wanted to throw up.

“What did I tell you?”

The sound of an enraged male voice tore me from my self-pity party, and my head jerked toward the direction of the common room.

“Stupid bitch.”

The sound of something crashing and a pained wail drew me forward. I powered down the hall and into the common room. Screeching to a halt, my mouth fell open as I saw the scene before me.

Sam was on the ground, blood welling from a cut on her lip, and her face was stained with tears and smeared mascara. Harley stood over her, his fist raised and his face contorted with rage.

My heart twisted, painfully scraping at the sides of my chest cavity. The sight of her cowering like a frightened child was horrifying. I saw her lying there, Harley dominating her like a rabid beast, and I saw red. I sucked in a deep breath as a chill passed through me.

It was her. It was Mom and Marini was hitting her, calling her awful things. Bitch, whore, pathetic piece of trash, useless slut. Her lifeless eyes stared back at me from where she’d been lying on the pool table—the same pool table Sam was cowering against—and Marini was pretending to be livid that his wife had been murdered. Pretending. I saw it now. He’d been pretending he gave a shit about her when it was really the fact his power had been undermined by a rival.

It was the same with Harley.

He’d trapped Sam in an awful situation. He’d manipulated her good nature. He’d used her as a punching bag, abusing her emotionally and physically. He reveled in dominance and fed off violence. Didn’t matter who it was as long as he was in control of their terror. Why? Why?

Piece of shit.

I didn’t think, I just flew into action.

Striding into the room, my vision was tinted red with rage.

“Get the hell off her!” I roared. I grabbed the pool cue off the table and held it high.

His gaze snapped to mine, and his lip curled. The look in his eyes should’ve given me pause, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking away. I didn’t even blink as his psychopathic ass attempted to intimidate me with his sheer size.

“What are you going to do with that?” Harley asked with a sneer.

“Get away from her,” I said again.

“She’s mine, bitch. That means I get to do what I want with her, and ain’t nothin’ you can do to stop me.”

My fingers tightened around the pool cue, and I swallowed the knot of rage that was threatening to take my control.

“Sloane.”

Harley’s attention shifted at the sound of Gasket’s voice, and I struck. I kicked the biker between the legs, the toe of my steel-capped boots colliding with his nasty cock and balls. He doubled over with a cry of pain, and I cracked him on the back of the skull with the pool cue. Then I brought up my knee, slamming into his face.

Harley groaned, and blood dripped onto the concrete floor from his nose. I stepped back, a wickedly satisfying grin pulling at my lips.

“Bitch!” he exclaimed. “You broke my fucking nose!” He lunged at me, his face crimson with rage.

I could see Gasket in my peripheral vision readying himself to launch onto Harley, but I didn’t need him to fight my battles for me. Not now, not ever.

Swinging the pool cue, it rapped him on the ear, and he slipped on his own blood and fell on his side. Hard.

I could’ve walked away from this. I could’ve kept my nose out of other people’s business and continued with my plan for low-key infiltration, but I couldn’t. Not when I saw a man beating up on a woman. Not when I could do something about it.

Leaning over him, I resisted the urge to spit in his face. At least his cock would be too bruised to use it for a while. That was some small consolation to add to his broken nose.

“If you touch her again, I’ll cut off your cock and choke you with it in your sleep,” I said, snarling.

“Sloane,” Gasket barked, the tone of his voice ordering me to stand down.

I wanted to be Fortitude, I bore their mark, so when my lieutenant gave me an order, I had to follow. I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t. So, I reluctantly tossed the pool cue aside and backed off before I stabbed it through Harley’s eyeball. He deserved worse. Much worse.

“Watts, get Bucket,” Gasket went on, handing out instruction to the audience I wasn’t aware had gathered for Harley’s smackdown. “Rhodes, get a mop and haul Harley’s ass off the floor. Enough humiliation has been handed out for one day.”

That was considered enough? That was a drop in the ocean.

* * *

I dabbed a cotton bud on Sam’s lip, and she hissed.

“That stings,” she said with a sniff.

“Of course, it stings,” I shot back. “That means it’s working.”

After I threatened Harley, I hadn’t waited around to see him drag his fat ass off the floor. Instead, I’d hauled Sam to her feet and got her out of there. We were now in my bathroom. She was sitting on the end of my bed while I cleaned her up. Well, attempted to anyway.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, her eyes welling with tears.

“There was no way in hell I was standing by and letting him hit you.”

“I know what he is,” she said. “But I’m trapped.”

“Why?” I asked, my brow furrowing. “Why do you stay?”

“You don’t understand.” Her gaze lowered.

She was right. I didn’t understand. I’d always been strong and not afraid to speak my mind. I’d always stood up to men who tried to dominate me. My father, Chaser, other bikers, the slimeballs who frequented Teasers. I’d never thought twice about protecting myself even though I’d had my moments on the road with Chaser, so Sam was right. I didn’t understand, and I probably never would.

I could try to help her all I liked, but she had to want my help for it to mean something.

Sam was just one of many in this place. The stronger women—like Shondra, Raquel, Kelly, and Emily—knew how to get by in a world like this, but not her. She was too sweet and kind for any of this.

I couldn’t help everyone, not if I wanted to take over Fortitude and use the club to go head-to-head with the Hollow Men. Revenge was a dish best served cold, but it took an army to prepare a meal the size Chaser and I needed. Helping Sam might jeopardize everything.

Maybe I should just kill Marini and get the hell out of here. Maybe that was enough for now. We could get the Hollow Men and their King another way.

“Why?” she asked, turning my question back to me. “Why would you help me? I don’t even know you.”

Lowering my hand, I tossed the cotton ball into the trash and sighed.

“When I walked in, I saw you lying there…but it wasn’t you.”

“What?”

“When I was a kid, Marini used to beat my mom,” I said. “He’d hit me sometimes, but mostly it was her. So when I walked in, it was like old times. I couldn’t stand up for her. I was a kid, you know. But I can stand up for you now.”

Sam wiped her tears and glanced at the door.

“That’s awful,” she said, her entire demeanor changing. “I’m sorry that happened to her, but I’m not your mom.”

She stood and crossed the room, leaving me gobsmacked. Yeah, she was right. I really didn’t understand.

“She ended up getting killed,” I said, rising to my feet. “She stayed, and she got raped and murdered by a rival club. He used her death as an excuse to go to war with them. Then he tried to sell me as a sex slave on my eighteenth birthday. Harley is just like Marini, Sam. He’s just like him.”

Sam hesitated, her hand trembling on the doorknob.

“If you want to get out, I can help you,” I pleaded. “Don’t let it come to that.”

She turned, a smile plastered on her battered face. A smile that never reached her eyes.

“Harley loves me,” she declared, robotically. “He’ll protect me. Don’t worry, Sloane. Everything will be okay. You’ll see.”

Then she left.