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I touched my forehead against his. “Let me be your villain, the one who makes him suffer for your pain.”
“You’re not that to me, though, Ethan. You’re not a bad person.”
Behind us was another explosion that rocked us on our feet, but I held on tightly to him. There were cackles of insane laughter. I didn’t care what was happening because all that mattered was Jonas.
“I am but not to you. Never to you. I’m trash, but you don’t see that.”
He took a shuddery breath. “Don’t say those things. You’re not. You’re as good as gold.”
I laughed because I couldn’t help it. “I’m fool’s gold.”
“Then I’m a fool.” He slammed his mouth against mine, and I ate his lips, not wanting to let him go anytime soon.
Someone cleared their throat behind us, and the Harlot who had handed Jonas the bat smirked. “He’s trying to sneak off.”
I broke away from Jonas and spun on my heel, focusing on Gerard as he crawled along the ground, half dragging himself through the dirt. I didn’t know where he thought he was going. The camp was surrounded by King’s army, and this piece of shit wasn’t getting out of here alive.
I swung the bat in a circle while I walked toward the desperate man. Resting the end in the middle of his back, I smirked when he froze in fear. “Going somewhere, twatbag?”
The big man turned his head to stare at me, his swollen bottom lip quivering. “Please. Let me go. I swear to God I’ll never tell a soul.”
I laughed. “Am I supposed to believe your word, you psychopath? Did you enjoy torturing people?”
He shook his head. “We were doing God’s work. They wanted to change.”
I tapped the end of the bat against his back harder, and he tensed. “Liar. I don’t believe in your God, but I also think that if he did exist, he wouldn’t ask you to hurt people in his name.”
The acidic stench of piss filled the air, and I scrunched up my nose.
“Did you actually piss your pants?” I shook my head and chuckled.
Myles, the guy who’d been in the small cell next to Jonas, came up to stand nearby. “Kick his ass, Jonas’s boyfriend! Make that fucker bleed.”
I snorted and didn’t exactly mind Myles’s demand. Raising the bat, I brought it down across Gerard’s back, eliciting a loud scream of agony from him.
“Again!” Myles growled out loudly.
So, I did. Again and again, I slammed the bat across Gerard’s back until I heard a crack that I thought was his spine. His yells of pain filled the air, joining in with the rest of the chaotic noise happening around us.
I half expected Jonas to stop me, but he watched, eyes wide as I got his revenge for him.
An hour later, the guards’ dead bodies were thrown in a pile at the bottom of the ditch. Gerard’s was on top, his face battered and crumpled from the bat. Jonas watched the entire time, never looking away once. While I’d expected him to be disgusted afterward, he’d accepted my hug freely, some of the tension gone from his body.
The buildings that the camp used were on fire, the large flames eating away the roof and reaching for the sky. The men and women who had been prisoners here watched as the place that had tormented them was burned to the ground, and not one of them appeared upset—just the opposite.
One guy—who Jonas said was corrupted and brainwashed—Anson, had tears in his eyes, but there wasn’t quite regret in his gaze, which made me hold out hope for him. Maybe heknewthe camp had been a horrible place, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.
The bikers surrounded the group, protecting them in a way their families should’ve.
“What happens to us now?” Myles glanced around like he wasn’t quite sure who he was asking. “My parents ripped me out of my first year of college to send me to this nightmare. I can’t imagine what happened to my apartment.”
King cleared his throat. “Now, you go back to the US. We’ve got a bus, and we found your passports that they had stashed away. One of our men who came over legally will take you back over the border.”
“And what? We’ll go back to our parents?” A man with curly brown hair stared at King with scared eyes. “I can’t go back to them. Dad said he’ll kill me if I go backuncured.”
The bikers shifted, and a wave of animosity washed through them, if the expressions that crossed their faces were anything to go by. I could tell that if there was one thing all the clubs agreed on, it was that you didn’t hurt innocent people.
A beautiful woman with her black hair up in a bun and a midnight complexion stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder. Her black leather jacket reflected the flames from the burning building. “You don’t have to worry about that. We’ll protect you, if it comes down to it. New Gothenburg has resources for people. New York’s an all right state to live in.” She smiled.
