"Justice," my father replies. "Our kind."
The club members begin to move into the barn, fanning out to cut off any escape routes. I see the look in their eyes, not just anger, but something primal.
Evan's arm tightens around my throat. "I'll kill her. I swear to God."
"You won't get the chance," Matthew says, taking another step closer. His eyes never leave Evan's face. "You hurt her, and what happens next will make your worst nightmares seem like a mercy."
The moment stretches, tense and fragile. I can feel Evan's heart hammering against my back, smell the fear and desperation rolling off him in waves.
"Morgan," my father says, his voice softer now. "What do you want us to do?"
All eyes turn to me. The woman with a gun to her head, the woman who should be begging for her life. But I'm not afraid anymore. I'm angry.
"Make sure it hurts," I say, my voice clear and steady despite the gun at my head. "Make sure he doesn't see the light of day again."
Evan's grip loosens in surprise. "You—you can't?—"
In that split second, I drive my elbow back into his wounded hand. He screams, his arm dropping. I twist away as Trenton and Matthew surge forward.
Evan fires once wildly before Carter tackles him to the ground. The gun skids away as Evan thrashes beneath Carter's massive weight.
"Get her out of here," my father orders, and someone's hands are guiding me toward the door as the club members converge on Evan.
The last thing I see before I'm led outside is my father kneeling beside Evan, his voice too low to hear but his expression promising everything I asked for.
Trixie collapses against me as soon as we're clear of the barn. "They're not going to kill him, are they?" she whispers.
I look back at the barn, at the men who would burn the world down to keep me safe. "No," I say. "They're going to do something worse."
She grins, the bruises around her eyes starting to show.
The sounds that follow tell me everything I need to know.
chapter twenty
Trenton
The barn door swings shut behind Morgan and Trixie, plunging us into near darkness. Only the beam from my flashlight cuts through the gloom, illuminating Harris's terrified face as he thrashes beneath Carter.
"Hold him still," I command, my voice cold as the winter night.
Carter shifts his weight, pinning Harris's shoulders to the dirt floor. Matthew appears at my side, his face a mask of controlled fury. He kneels beside Harris, studying him with the detached interest of a surgeon about to operate.
"You took her," Matthew says softly. "You put your hands on her."
Harris spits at him, the saliva landing on Matthew's cheek. "You think you scare me? I've killed women stronger than your girlfriend."
I watch Matthew wipe his face slowly, methodically. The quiet before the storm.
"Get the table ready," I tell Jackson, who moves to the folding table Harris had set up. The knives gleam in the flashlight beam, arranged in order of size.
Greyson steps forward, his massive frame blocking what little moonlight filters through the barn's rotting walls. "I've got the restraints."
Harris's eyes widen as he realizes what's happening. "You can't do this. The police?—"
"The police think you escaped with two other inmates," Isaac says, moving to stand beside me. Morgan's father, my father-in-law in every way that matters. "They're searching the highways. They won't find you here. They won't find you, period."
Torch and Slaughter move to secure Harris's limbs while Caiden sets up a small generator and a single floodlight. The barn fills with the low hum of the generator, casting harsh shadows across our faces.
