Loading up the truck, I look behind me and shake my head in disbelief again. Not only is half of the Idaho chapter following us back to Canada. MadDog sent ten guys from California, including the explosive specialist, Torch.

Men from North Dakota have already left their clubs, along with Washington state. In all, about fifty men will be gathering at our clubhouse to aide in this mission to demolish the Aryan’s compound and get my woman and son back.

“Ready?” Free asks, his voice low and almost gentle.

I lift my chin, not bothering to even discuss driving arrangements. He’s made it clear I won’t be driving while my head is obviously focused on Hayden and Easton, not the road. We load up, and he puts the truck in reverse.

Fury is standing at his clubhouse door, he lifts his chin toward us, his sexy blonde wife tucked into his side. She waves with a sad smile, and I lift two fingers toward her in my own wave before Free shifts the truck and presses his foot to the gas pedal.

We don’t speak as we head toward Canada. The trail of bikes that follows us is reassuring, and I know so many more will be meeting us there. I have to have faith that we will get them back, I refuse to accept failure when it comes to them.

When I do get her back, I’m going to change my ways a bit. She ain’t my fuckdoll, she’s so much goddamn more than that. I see it now, what she was feeling when I said that to her. To the men that have taken her, that’s all she’s good for, to me she’s worth so much more.

She’s my woman, and yeah, I might fuck her somewhere that will make her feel uneasy at first, but I will never force her to do a damn thing.

She’s my partner.

“We’ll get her back,” Free grinds out as he drives closer toward the border.

I grunt. “Fuck yeah, and when we do, I’m torturing the fucker who took her. Then, I’m burning their entire compound to the goddamn ground,” I growl.

Free chuckles. “I think we’re all going to have some fun torturing and destroying.”

Luckily, we don’t have any drama crossing the border, and neither do the bikes behind us. I’m glad for it, knowing that sometimes we have issues, but I would probably pull my gun out and kill some border patrol if they gave us any shit today. I don’t have the goddamn patience.

When the clubhouse is finally in view, I let out a breath of relief. I’m one step closer to getting my woman back. Now we just need to get a plan finalized, and the rest of the crews here before we jam. Pulling into the parking lot, I’m surprised at how many cars I see littering the space.

“Snake decided to do lockdown. Since there won’t be many men here, he thought it was best,” Free shrugs.

I nod in agreement. That is a good idea, and if I weren’t so fucking worried and focused on Hayden, I would have maybe even thought of it myself.

“Snake wants to see you immediately,” Free announces.

Lifting my hand, I clap it on Free’s shoulder as he shifts his truck into park. “Thanks, brother, for everything.” He turns to look at me, obviously a little confused by my gratitude. “Would have totally lost my shit, had you not been there to reel my ass back in.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll probably need you to do the same one day if a woman ever decides to give a broken man like me a shot again,” he shrugs.

“You’re one of the best men I know, Free. You ain’t broken, brother, just a little dented. Can’t change the past, or what happened back in it. What you can do is make your future that much fucking better.”

Free chuckles, swinging his truck door open. “You fuckers. You all fall in love, and you try to drag everyone else down with you. Snake spouted that same goddamn shit to me when he was fallin’ for Ginger.”

“Ever think we got some truth to our words then?” I ask.

Free jumps out of the truck, but he places his hands on the top, looking over at me. “Probably. Honest to fuck, though, brother. I don’t need my shit fucking up a woman. I’ve already done it, unfortunately, she didn’t live through it.”

He turns and walks away without allowing me to respond. I’m glad for it, I didn’t know what the fuck I was going to say anyway. Sliding out of the truck, I walk toward the clubhouse, ignoring all of the pitying looks from the women and men who are gathered in the main bar area. I make my way toward Snake’s office.

Knocking on the door, I twist the knob and walk inside. Snake is sitting behind the desk, Ginger on his lap. I chuckle at the sight of them, then a sense of overwhelming sadness washes over me. Hayden really isn’t here, she’s really fucking gone, and I don’t know what the fuck to do with that, or the way it makes me feel.

“Peaches, hop down. Why don’t you go help Gracie and Lea out with food and kids, or whatever,” he mumbles.

I watch as she nods, pressing her lips to his, then slides off of his lap. She walks toward me, not looking at me, but when she slips past me, she takes my hand in hers and gives it a gentle squeeze before going out the office door.

“Tech guy in the Cali charter was able to hack into the compound’s surveillance system. We got confirmation she’s there,” Snake says.

My legs shake, my knees giving out and I sink into the chair across from his desk. “She’s alive, she’s okay?” I rasp.

He nods, slowly. “Caught her walking toward a big building this morning with Jack. Then she walked out an hour later, through the back with an unknown male. Says that the footage is grainy as fuck and he can’t run any recognition software with the image, but he definitely wasn’t Jack she walked out with. Then he said they walked toward the woods, but he lost her. There’s no surveillance in that area, or if there is, it’s through a different system.”

“Fuck,” I hiss, running my hand through my hair.

“Good news is, she’s walking on her own and she’s alive.” Lifting my chin, I let out a grunt of agreement.

“Church in five. We’re leaving in the morning. Most of our backup crews should be here by then. We’ll take one day to plan when we get there, gather and regroup in that town you stayed in. Then we’re getting your girl back.”

“Thank fuck,” I growl.

Snake smirks. “Church,” he states as he stands.

Together, we walk out of his office and toward church. It’s time to formulate this plan and fucking fast.

I need my woman back.

I need my son back.

Zachary did as he said he would. My bags were delivered along with Easton’s before he informed me that it was time for dinner. He explained that normally I would dress for dinner, but he wasn’t going to require it until he’s able to supply me with the proper wardrobe. I’m not quite sure what that entails, but I don’t question him.

Following behind him, I keep Easton close to me as we make our way downstairs. I expect to walk outside and do the zombie thing toward the cement brick building, but he doesn’t turn toward the front door. I suck in a breath when we walk into a large room inside of the house, instead.

Right in front of me is a large, rectangular table, children standing in front of benches side by side, with place settings in front of them. There’s the woman I recognize from earlier standing in the center on the left side. There are two empty seats next to the head of the table, on the right and of course, the head is reserved for Zachary.

“Please, you and Easton take your seats,” he murmurs.

I walk over to the side of the table where our place settings are waiting for us, and I shimmy between the bench and the table, but I don’t take my seat quite yet. I know the rules; the men always sit first around here.

Zachary pulls out his chair, the only actual chair at this table, and he slowly sinks down. Only then, do the rest of us take our seats. A flurry from another room appears as four women, all appearing to be in their late teens or early twenties, like me, bring dish after dish of food from the kitchen and set them down in front of us.

Nobody reaches for the steaming dishes of food, not until Zachary has his plate full. “Please, go ahead, my family.”

The children don’t all reach for the food like I expect, in fact, they pass their plates down toward the nanny, and she fills each plate, one-by-one. I take it upon myself to fix both mine and Easton’s plates and he quickly begins to eat, obviously hungry.

“I’m glad to see he is doing better,” the woman whispers.

Lifting my eyes to her, I blink in surprise. I hadn’t really looked at her in the face before now. She’s young, if she’s even eighteen I would be surprised.

I give her a kind smile, but I’m honestly afraid to speak. Turning back to my food, I eat what I can, which honestly isn’t much. My stomach is in knots, and I’m scared—terrified actually.

“There’s a soldier’s meeting tonight at six. I expect you two to have the children asleep and in bed by the time I arrive back home,” Zachary announces as he takes a bite of a biscuit.

“Yes, sir,” the nanny nods, her eyes downcast and focused on her plate.

I exhale a breath. “Yes Zachary,” also keeping my eyes focused on my food in front of me.

Zachary scoots back in his chair and we all begin to stand, but he shakes his head. “Continue eating. I will see you all tomorrow morning,” he says. Then his eyes meet mine. “Remember what I said about your door, Hayden,” he grunts.

“Yes, Zachary,” I nod.

He leaves, and I swear, I hold my breath until I hear the front door close behind him. Only then do I let out a sigh of relief. “How did you end up here,” the nanny asks.

“What’s your name?” I ask, ignoring her question.

“Whitley,” she breathes. “I wasn’t part of the Notorious Devils, or at least I didn’t know that I was,” she offers.

My brows knit together, and I tip my head to the side. “Are you a daughter of the Devils?” I ask.

She presses her lips together, nodding. “Kind of. My mother was the daughter of a president in South Dakota. She met a man who was a friend of the club. She didn’t know that he was an Aryan. The story goes that he took her, and they lived here in Canada for a while, but they were both killed.”

She bites her bottom lip and her large brown eyes look up to mine in almost a pleading manner. I don’t know what she is trying to express, but I don’t get a chance to ask her before the four women from the kitchen start to clean up the table.

“Time to start getting ready for bed, children,” Whitley smiles.

I watch as the older children quietly scurry off. It’s odd, how absolutely quiet this house is. It is bathed in silence, and it’s unnerving. Easton crawls into my lap, lifting his hand and wrapping his chubby fingers around the side of my neck.

“Lub you Mama,” he sighs.

Whitley clears her throat and my eyes lift to hers. “You’re lucky Zachary holds affection for you,” she says.

“Why is that?”

She looks down at her feet, then lifts her eyes back up to me. “I’ve seen what happens to women he holds no affection for or women who have attempted to manipulate him,” she shivers.

Lifting my chin, I give her a smile. “I understand. I’ve seen a lot in my day,” I admit. Her eyes search my own and I allow her to see some of my vulnerabilities, some of my pain.

“Maybe we can be friends, help one another. I’d like to stay here in this house, with this job, for as long as possible,” she admits.

Reaching across the table, I take her hand and give it a small squeeze. “I’d like that very much, Whitley,” I smile.

She nods, stepping over the bench and I watch as she scoops up a couple of the smaller children, and calls to the others to follow behind her. I’m left alone at the table, just me and Easton, and I sigh. This is going to be harder than I’d imagined.

I have six weeks to get the fuck out of here, and maybe if I play my cards right, I’ll have an ally in Whitley and we can escape together.

Although she was born in this life—she could potentially be a sympathizer and not want to leave the only life she knows. Time will tell with her, and hopefully, I can figure her out before it’s time for my escape.

Standing from the bench, I carry Easton toward our room. Zachary made it clear he wanted the children in bed before he came home, and I have no doubt in my mind that he included Easton on that.

I hurry upstairs, heading toward my room. Once I’m inside, I glance into the adjoining room, toward the bathroom and I suck in a deep breath.

Making my way toward his master bathroom, I try not to stall in his room. I have no doubt that this is a man who not only enjoys his privacy, but he takes that shit seriously. He probably has cameras in here to make sure nobody rifles through his things.

I bathe Easton quickly, then dress him for bed, and take a quick shower myself. I’m hoping to be asleep by the time Zachary returns as well. My goal is to avoid him as much as possible. His calmness, his evil eyes, they scare the shit out of me.