Walking into a room full of men with guns pointed at each other might not have been the best strategy. But they left me with no other choice. I gripped the back of the nearest pew and willed one foot in front of the other.

“Gina,” Zig said, his voice choked with desperate emotion. He kept a rock-solid grip on his gun as he pointed it at my brother’s head. Part of me would have understood if he’d pulled the trigger. Only I knew how much pain Georgio had caused him. Every day when I closed my eyes, I could still see Zig’s bloodied face and lifeless eyes as I turned him over in the sand.

Georgio did that. He did it all. Whatever role my mother played, Georgio had killed my other brother. For that, and a thousand things more, he was no longer a brother to me.

“Gina,” Zig said again, not taking his eyes off Georgio. “Baby, get out of here. Go out the front door. Deacon and the others are out there. They’ll keep you safe.”

“Listen to him, honey,” Bear said.

“Don’t,” Georgio said, his voice dripping with contempt. “Stick around, little sister. Time to reap what you sowed.”

“What’s your plan, Georgio?” I said, taking a few steps closer to my brother’s side. “You shoot Bear. Zig shoots you. Then what?”

“Gina,” my mother said, her voice cool and calm. “You’ve done enough. For once, I’m going to have to agree with Mr. Bullock. Just turn around and walk away.”

“Perfect,” Georgio said. “I told you to pick your side, Gina. So go stand out there with the rest of the Dark Saints. When the feds come back here, they can haul you off right along with them.”

Zig shifted his weight, keeping his weapon straight and aimed between Georgio’s eyes. His gaze flicked to mine and my heart dropped. He was like a feral animal, ready to strike. But he knew he couldn’t protect me if the bullets started to fly. My heartbeat fluttered with uncertainty, but I knew there was no going back.

“What about the feds, Georgio?” My mother turned to him. “What have you done?”

Georgio’s lips curled back and he swung his aim to the right toward Bear.

“Not another fucking move, Georgio,” Axle said. He took a bold step forward and his breaths came hard, making his nostrils flare. “You take one more fucking step and you go down first.”

“Oh, Junior set a lot of things in motion. He was ready to turn even you out, Mom. But he didn’t have the guts. Don’t you worry. I made sure any trail he left would lead nowhere. Well, not exactly nowhere. He was ready to give them all kinds of interesting stories about the Dark Saints.”

Bear laughed. “You’re out of your league, son. You think your idiot brother really had access to anything that would stick? I hate to break it to you, but your father knew his sons better than you’re giving him credit for. Tell him, Christine.”

My mother put a hand to her forehead and smoothed down one errant hair that had come loose. If she was scared, she didn’t show it. Just a thin line of perspiration dotted her upper lip. Once she’d fixed her hair, she turned to my brother.

“Put the guns down, gentlemen,” she said. “This is business.”

“He’s bluffing, Mom,” Georgio said. “I’ve got enough shit on that club to make sure every member gets locked away for the next two generations. We don’t need them anymore. I’ve already set things up with the Devils Hawks in Laredo. They’re just waiting for the go-ahead to move in. The Saints are trouble. They couldn’t even keep my baby sister safe.”

“You fucking liar,” Zig said. “Confessional time, Georgio. It’s fitting right here, don’t you think? It was you who ordered the hit on your father and your sister. Tell your mama the whole truth.”

My mother made a choked noise and gripped the pew. Her face had turned to ash but somehow, she managed to stay on her feet. For me, I was way past shock at Zig’s words. There was a cancer in my family. It would be up to me to root it out.

“The Saints are necessary,” I said, moving out from behind the pews.

“Gina!” Zig cried. He wiped his jaw with his shoulder, but held his aim steady. I knew with absolute certainty that he would kill my brother for me if it came to it. No matter what, he could never let Georgio slide. Neither could I.

“Mom,” I said. “I think it’s high time that you explained to Georgio how Daddy really wanted things to work.”

“Gina,” she said. “Not here. Not now.”

“No,” I said. “I think this is exactly the right time and place. I can almost feel Daddy’s presence, can’t you?”

“Gina,” Georgio said. He turned the gun on me. It happened so fast, I almost didn’t register the movement. Georgio took a bold step toward me and pointed the barrel of his gun right at my temple.

“Georgio!” my mother yelled. At the same time, Bear called to Zig.

He moved just as fast, coming to my other side. “Don’t do it, man,” he said. “You know I’ll blow your head off next. I don’t give a single shit about what happens to me after that. But you ain’t walking out of here alive after this.”

“Stop,” I said again, my voice trembling. Adrenaline coursed through me. But I held my ground, turning to face my brother.

What I saw in his eyes made my heart stop. Georgio was broken, somehow. He stared at me with utter contempt. He would have killed me, I believe, just to prove something to the people poised to come after my father’s business. I already knew he meant to kill Zig. Then there was our own father and my brother, Junior. He might have deserved it; he and Georgio were cut from the same cloth.

“You’re not turning the Saints over to the FBI,” I said, channeling my mother’s cool, calm facade. “And you’re not going to have anything to do with the family business. You’re out, Georgio. In fact, you were never in.”

“Gina,” my mother said. “Be very careful. We have to handle this within the family.” Her words cracked, matching the way the earth must have felt beneath her feet. She’d put her trust in the wrong child.

“Daddy wasn’t planning on letting you run the business, Georgio. He made it so you couldn’t. If you don't tell him the truth, I will.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Georgio said.

“I did some reading,” I said. “Daddy knew you and Junior weren’t fit to lead. He put all of his holdings in a trust. The minute he died, the trust became active. And you aren’t a beneficiary. None of Daddy’s children are. You have no power.”

“What the hell is she talking about?” Georgio’s focus finally wavered and he narrowed his eyes at my mother. I could feel the tension boiling through Zig. I just prayed he could keep a steady hand for what I was about to say.

“You’re cut out, Georgio,” I answered for my mother. “Mom’s the temporary trustee. But everything Daddy owns is for the next generation. His grandchildren.”

“Gina.” My mother’s voice was so thin, I barely recognized it.

“You do anything to the Saints,” I said, my courage rising to join the fear, “then you’ve made the father of Gino DiSalvo’s first grandchild a felon The family would never survive it. And Daddy’s entire estate passes to my child when he turns eighteen.”

“Baby?” Zig turned to stone beside me. A single bead of sweat ran in a line from his temple. Still, he kept his hands steady.

“You’re pregnant.” My mother said it as a statement, not a question.

I put a protective hand on my stomach and the tiny life that had started to grow there. I hadn’t wanted to believe it myself, at first. So much had happened, between losing my father, finding Zig half-dead on the beach, then sitting vigil at his hospital bedside. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Anyone might have felt sick under the circumstances. But I’d known in my heart all along that it was something else. Finally, I’d taken Dr. Lombardi up on his offer to look at me.

“Yes,” I said. “Dr. Lombardi confirmed it yesterday.”

“You’re a lying whore,” Georgio said. “You let this scum between your legs. That’s bad enough. Now you’re carrying his little bastard. Well, that’s just perfect, Gina. Good thing you’re in a church. Maybe God will forgive you, but I never will.”

“Shut your mouth,” Zig said, the color drained from his face.

“Zig,” Bear said. “Keep your head, man. You’re not going to do her any good like this.”

Georgio’s lip curled in a snarl as he looked at me with pure disgust. God, how had I never realized how much my own brother hated me before? He’d hated all of us.

“Is what she said true?” Georgio asked, still not taking his eyes or aim off me.

“Which part, Georgio?” my mother asked. She’d taken a casual posture, sinking down into the nearest pew. She wiped her brow. “Oh, she’s pregnant, all right. I should have seen it myself weeks ago. A mother knows.”

“And about Dad’s will?”

“You can ask me that now? My God. You’re not my son. Not if everything they’re saying is true. Why haven’t you denied it?” my mother answered. “But yes. Your father wanted everything to pass to his grandchildren. I cautioned him against it, but it was his decision. He said it was the best way to keep the cousins from wrestling control. The lawyers agreed.”

“Lawyers?” For the first time I saw Georgio’s hand tremble. Zig saw it too. He made a desperate plea with his eyes. This was killing him. I could feel his need to protect me take on an almost physical shape.

“Well,” Georgio said. “None of you can prove shit. So I guess we’ll just have to make sure little sister here stays barren.”

Two things happened at once. Georgio lowered his aim, pressing the barrel of his nine millimeter against my stomach. Zig moved. He dropped low, pressing his shoulder into my knees so I tumbled out of the way.

Georgio’s shot rang out, going wide. I felt a hundred tiny bees sting me near my hip, followed by wet heat as the blood began to flow. Zig’s shot, a fraction of a second later, hit my brother right between the eyes.

As I fell to the floor in a pool of blood, Georgio’s eyes met mine. He wore a curious expression. Not panic. Not fear. Not even pain. He just looked stunned with his pupils dilated and a tiny red hole between his brow. The greatest damage was behind him, as red and gray sprayed across the altar.

My mother finally screamed.