Ruthless Reign

Chapter 32

It’shim.

Ishifted my position, aiming for the bastard but hitting anything and everything and everyone around him instead.

Séamasused his Sons as human shields as they moved forward into the space, going for cover.

Sloaneemptied her clip into the large group, making a dent in their numbers, but none of us seemed able to hit Séamas from this far away.

AsI ejected my clip to insert a new one, I saw Aodhán taking aim at his father, watched his nostrils flare, his pale hands tighten on his weapon, but he didn’t fire. His hands shook.

Isettled a hand on the barrel of his gun, lowering it. “It doesn’t have to be you,” I told him.

Therewas guilt and shame in his beautiful eyes when he turned them on me. Guilt, shame, and rage at himself for not being able to do it. His jaw flared as she clenched his teeth and set himself back into position, taking out every other Son around his dad instead.

Icould tell he hadn’t given up. He was working himself up to it. I knew if his aim was good enough to shoot Kaleb in the chest and not kill him, he could finish his dad from this distance with little effort. He might’ve been the only one who could. ButI couldn’t fault him for not being able to.

Iknew what that was like.

Iloved a monster once, too. Back in ThornValley. The grip of his manipulation ran so deep that at one point I would’ve done anything he asked me without argument or question. I hated who I was then, but I needed to be her to become this version of myself. ThisBecca 2.0.

Aodhánmight not have been able to do it, but I sure as hell could.

Thenew clip clicked into place, and I pulled the slide back, taking aim, trying to recall every lesson. Every piece of advice given to me by the Saints lying dead on the gym floor.

Don’thold your breath.

Standwith your feet apart.

Shoulderssquared.

Strongarms. Relaxed grip.

Ifollowed SéamasO’Sullivan’s movements as he shifted forward with a horde surrounding him, trying to gauge where he would step next. Anticipate his movement before he made it.

Anotherten yards and he would be in cover.

Hewas looking for something, I realized. Every few seconds when I caught a glimpse of his face, I saw how his eyes shifted, head swiveling left and right.

Comeon, Becks.

Isquared my shoulders, looked down the scope, through it, through him.And fired.

Hishead pinged to the left and a sharp inhale pulled at my lungs, but then he was recovering, pressing his fingertips to his bleeding ear. Then his mismatched menacing eyes were on me. Looking up. Smiling.

“Now!” he shouted, and I fired again. Again.

Propelledby that look. That single word.

BecauseI recognized that look. It was the same one he had on his face before he stabbed me in the leg. The same one he had a second before he shot Toby.

Thatsmile meant pain. Torment.

“No.” The words came out a growl through my clenched teeth as I emptied the clip and canisters started to fly.

Therewas no question as the smoke grenades were launched by every Son in the gym, tossed in every direction—Séamashad managed to recoup what Aodhán destroyed. And then some.

Thegray-white smoke filled the room, rising, billowing out all around us.

Thelast thing I saw before it reached us was Séamas’ eyes, staring right at me with murderous intent.

Icoughed as it hit my lungs, filling them with the burning odor of used up fireworks as my eyes burned.

Inthe lack of gunfire, there were running steps in every direction. They jangled the bleachers beneath us, but it was impossible to see which direction they were coming from.

Actually, it was impossible to see more than a foot in front of my own damned face.

“Hawk!” Hardin called and I reached in the direction of his voice, sensing more than seeing or feeling the Sons getting nearer. I thought I could determine where they were coming from, but I was terrified to shoot through the smoke. What if I hit one of ours? One of mine?

Fuck.

Myheart stuttered in my chest, scalp prickling as dread coiled in my belly.

He’dbeen looking at me.

Orhad he been looking at Aodhán next to me?

Astab of fear sliced into my belly, and I struggled to breathe, to call out. “Aodhán! Aodhán!”

“Becca, get down,” Sloane hissed, and her tiny strong hand jerked me by the wrist, making me fall forward onto the bleachers. She covered my body with her own, pushing me down between two bench seats in the process as bodies jostled all around us.

Ichoked and spluttered. “Aodhán!”

“Shhh.”

“OhDamien…” came the singsong voice of Séamas through the smoke, far away, but not far enough.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Fuckingbastard.

Therewas the distinct sound of knuckles hitting bone through flesh as the Sons fought with my guys somewhere above us. Thebang of a body thudding against a metal seat.

“Come out and face me, you fucking coward!” Séamas bellowed, his luring tone turned acidic.

Istruggled under Sloane, pushing up with all my strength as she fought against me to hold me down. “Don’t,” she whisper shouted in my ear. “He’s after you. We can’t let him?—”

Herweight left me all at once and I sat upright, spinning around, reaching out for her through the muffled sounds of fighting and coughing and curses.

“Sloane!”

Iheard the sound of her struggle and moved in that direction, tripping over a soft shape on the ground. Instinctively, I reached down to feel, fear gripping my heart in a vise.

“Sloane?”

Butthe body wasn’t hers. Wasn’t even alive.

Fuck.

Icouldn’t hear her anymore. And even as the smoke slowly—so fucking slowly—started to dissipate, I still couldn’t find her anywhere on the bleachers.

Ilifted my gun, ready to fire as my watery eyes began to refocus, finding the shapes of men. Hardin and Kaleb.

Wherewas…

Aodhánrose through the dissipating smoke, stepping off the dead Son it looked like he’d just finished strangling on the floor.

Therewere no Sons up here.

Then, where…

Kalebgrabbed my arm, tugging me back behind the upturned desks. “Where’sMa?”

“I don’t know, she was just here and then?—”

“I have your woman, St. Vincent.”

Mystomach dropped.

Weturned to squint down through the dispersing smoke, to the heart of the gymnasium floor.

WhereSéamas had Sloane on her knees, the barrel of his gun pressed to the back of her head. A gag in her mouth. Vicious rage in her eyes as she thrashed against the hold the Sons on either side of her had on her to keep her held down.

“You know, it’s a funny thing,” Séamas called out, his gaze roaming the gym in search of Damien. “For years I tried to teach my lad that a heart was nothing but an obstacle to be overcome. A weak thing that would see him destroyed. How fitting that you’ll now help me illustrate my point.”

Heshouted with such fervor that I could see spittle flying from his mouth with almost every word he spoke.

Ifound Aodhán watching the scene below, pale, his gaze distant.

Behindhim, Hardin and Kaleb stared down into the hell pit below in mute horror.

Aodhántrained his weapon on Séamas and a shuddering breath left my lips.

“Don’t!” Kaleb whisper shouted, snatching Aodhán’s gun right from his hands. “Look.”

Ilooked, trying to see why the fuck Kaleb stopped Aodhán from ending this. He wouldn’t have missed. I know he wouldn’t have.

Butdown there, in the ring of Sons surrounding Séamas and Sloane were several more weapons pointed at their mom. If someone took out Séamas, they’d retaliate. She wouldn’t survive it.

“Bring my son to me, St. Vincent, or I’ll put a bullet in your wife.”

Damienshoved Zade, who was trying to hold him back, as he stepped out from behind the hide near the back corner where I’d seen them before. He held his hands up, gun in the air.

“Séamas, take me?—”

“Oh, save it, St. Vincent,” Séamas sneered. “My son. Bring him to me.”

Aodhánjumped over the desks, and my heart lurched into my throat. I reached for him, trying to stop him. “Aodhán, wait, don’t.”

Buthe was already gone, taking the steps down the bleachers three at a time.

“Ah, there he is.”

Istood, clamoring over an ammo bag to get around the desk until a rough grip pulled me back.

“No, Hawk. Don’t. You’ll just make it worse.”

“But—”

“He’s right,” Kaleb said, his face gaunt, words hollow. I watched his throat bob and felt his pain—both of their pain—like my own, because I couldn’t see this ending in any acceptable way now.

Hehad Sloane.

Hehad Aodhán.

Thefucking psychopath had us in the palm of his hand.

“That’s far enough, boy,” Séamas said as Aodhán shouldered through the ring of Sons. “On your knees.”

Aodhánwent to his knees.

Hehad to have a plan, right? He wouldn’t just give himself up like this. Why would he? He didn’t even know Sloane. Why sacrifice himself to save her?

Mychest hurt. It hurt so fucking bad.

Sloanewas trying to say something—scream it more accurately—but the cloth tie gagging her made it all but unintelligible. IfI had to guess, it sounded like she was telling Damien to kill them. She was willing to damn herself just to see Séamas go down.

Theother Saints, what few remained of them, whispered from where they stayed behind cover. They heard her, too.

“Everyone lower your arms,” Damien called, his voice tainted with the pitch of madness. “No one shoots.”

“Well, not no one,” Séamas corrected with a wry smirk. “I plan to do some shooting. What about you lads? Shall we get on with the show?”

“Da—” Aodhán, said and Séamas turned his ire on his Son with the wrath of a vengeful god.

“You do not speak to me,” he spat. “You sit there and you watch, like Damien will watch. You’ll learn your lesson, fuil ma chud fola, and then you’ll die with all the other weak-hearted men. I should’ve known you would never be rid of your mother’s heart. Should’ve smothered you under the same pillow I used to smother her.”

Igasped, and Aodhán flinched at the admission like his father had struck him. Aodhán might’ve assumed as much, but he didn’t know. I could tell. He didn’t know until right now.

Ohmy god, Aodhán.

Hardin’sgrip on me tightened, and I let myself lean into his side. I wondered if he was thinking how close his own mother came to having a similar fate if he hadn’t stepped up and done something about it as a child.

“What do we do?” I whispered to them both.

Hardin’sjaw flexed taut as a bowstring.

Kalebshook his head. “Nothing we can do, Vixen. He has us by the fucking balls.”

Aodhándropped his head toward his clenched fists in his lap.

Pleasehave a plan.

“So, here’s what’s going to happen,” Séamas announced. “You’re going to watch your kingdom crumble, and when it’s pulverized to dust, I’ll let you go down with it. Sound fair?”

Damien’slips parted but no sound came out.

“Begin,” Séamas called out.

TheSons who’d still been spread out in the gymnasium moved forward. Several dragged captured Saints along with them. While others searched behind the covered areas, dragging more of them out. None fought. None drew their weapons or shot at the Sons. They allowed themselves to be hauled out. Hauled forward. Pulled into Séamas’ circle of hell.

“There has to be a way we can finish this that doesn’t end in more bloodshed,” Damien reasoned, looking like a ghost of himself. “If we could just?—”

“The time for talk has past, St. Vincent. This is my circus, now.”

Agunshot punctuated his final word and a Saint slumped to the ground. Dead. Killed by a Son.

“Next,” Séamas barked.

Irecoiled as another gunshot pierced the quiet, and another Saint found an early grave.

“Séamas, please, you can’t?—”

“Next!”

Bang.

Damienstepped forward, fire in his eyes.

“Uh, uh,” Séamas warned, grinding the mouth of his pistol against the back of Sloane’s skull. “One more step and she gets the next one.”

“You fucking bas?—”

“Next!”

Thenext Saint pissed himself, his eyes skyward until the bullet kissed the back of his head and his eyes shut forever.

Icouldn’t watch anymore.

Islumped behind the desk, wishing that covering my ears would be enough to block out everything. Damien’s unheard pleas. The pop of gunfire. The slump of corpses on the ground.

Itneeded to stop. When would it stop?

Mychest felt tight and every breath I forced into it ached. Seeming to do nothing to get oxygen to my brain as dark spots bloomed in like dark flowerbuds at the edges of my vision.

Hewasn’t going to stop, I realized. He wouldn’t stop until he killed every last one of us.

Asif Séamas was the devil himself and capable of hearing my thoughts, he did not call for the next Saint to die. There was a pause that made my stomach turn to a pit of acid and then he said… “I think I’ll take one of your boys, now, Damien, if it’s all the same to you.”

Sloaneshouted angrily through her gag, and I reached out instinctively, gripping each of Damien’s sons by the arm.

“You can’t,” I said, my voice watery and weak and hateful. I hated how it sounded, but I couldn’t seem to make it stronger. Makeme stronger.

Iwasn’t going to let go. They’d have to drag me with them if they went.

“Just take me, you Irish prick,” Damien bellowed. “Just. Take. Me.”

“You’ll wait your turn like everybody else. Come on, little Saints, it’s you or yer Ma, here. What’ll it be?”

Hardinpulled against my hold on him, but I dug my fingernails into his skin.

No.

Iwas not letting go.

“Hawk,” he said in a low whisper, his face a mask of unyielding stone. “Let go.”

Iwouldn’t.

Heput his hand over mine, softly at first, and then he was peeling my fingers back like I wasn’t using every ounce of my grip strength to hold onto him.

WhileI was so busy trying to keep Hardin close, Kaleb was able to sharply pull his arm from mine.

“Sorry, Vixen!”

“No!”

“There’s yer spawn, Damien. Come on down, lad. I’ll finish what my son started with that well placed bullet, shall I?”

“Kaleb,” Hardin snapped, shaking his head at his brother.

ButI could see Kaleb’s mind was set. In his nonchalant shrug I read the words he didn’t say.

Wewere all going to die, anyway. Might as well go first.

“A little faster if you please, lad, we don’t have all?—”

Séamas’ words cut off mid-sentence and I gripped the edge of the desk, intently trying to see what shut him up.

“What’s that?” he hissed at a Son to his right. “Do you hear that?”

Hear…

Ilistened, realizing I could hear something. Yes.

Outside. Getting closer.

Engines. Loud and whining. Tires screeching.

Obviouslynot his men.

Whichcould only mean they were ours.

Mine.

Astwo blacked out dune buggies came into view outside, their rear ends fishtailing as they screeched onto the basketball courts and raced toward the gaping hole in the wall, I saw dark hair whipping back from the driver’s seat of the one on the right.

Myeyes burned.

Myheart fucking sang.

Séamaswas screaming now. “Who the fuck is that?”

It’sAvaJade, bitch.

TheSons opened fire on the buggies, bullets sparking on the metal frames as the off-road vehicles bounced violently onto the debris outside. They found a makeshift ramp in a chunk of fallen wall and flew into the opening, forcing the circle of the devil’s Sons and the man himself scattering apart as they landed hard, skidding as the brakes tried to engage on slippery ground.

Beforethey even stopped, Rook and Corvus were up out the tops of the vehicles, rifles butted against shoulders, firing merciless rounds into the disbanded Sons’ retreating backs.

Thiswas it. We couldn’t let him get his hands on any of us again.

Ihad my gun back up, watching, searching through the mess of running bodies for Sloane. ForSéamas.

Whereare you?

Whereare you?

“There!” I shouted, pointing to where Sloane was kicking the head of a Son into the ground until his bones caved it. Her hands still bound. Mouth still gagged. She’d slipped away. We just needed to make sure they didn’t get their hands on her again.

Kalebkilled a Son who ran for her, sending him sprawling onto the floor, giving Sloane the opportunity to run away—to run toward Damien in the back corner.

Icouldn’t find Séamas, but my gaze locked on AvaJade and her Crows, and I knew what I needed to do. They needed cover.

Rookjerked back as a bullet tore through his shoulder and I killed the Son who fired it. Completely unperturbed, Rook reloaded his machine gun and fucking wooped as he started to fire again.

Overthe cacophony of sound, I could’ve sworn I heard him holler. “I fucking missed this shit!”

AvaJade’s gun ran out of ammo, and she switched to her blades. So many more than I remembered her having. They were strapped in long lines in an X across her chest and in violent streaks of silver down her legs from thigh to calf. She threw them like a goddess of death, every single one seeming to find its mark.

ASon further away, crouched behind a vending machine, got his sights on her a fraction of a second before she saw him. She moved to throw her blade, but my bullet found him first, piercing him through the eye.

Shewhirled to see who stole her prey and her eyes widened as they landed on me. A smile curled up the edges of her lips. She tipped her head to me, and a flush of pride filled my aching bones.

“There! He’s getting away!” Kaleb called.

Séamaswas sprinting from hide to hide, almost completely unimpeded, making for the hole in the wall he’d created.

“He’s mine!” Damien’s voice above all others in the room. Final. Absolute.

He’donly be Damien’s if he didn’t get away.

Iaimed near his feet and fired.

Miss.

Again.

Missed.

Fuck!

Onemore time and I hit my mark, clipping Séamas in the ankle, making him trip and go down in a snarling heap as the two Sons with him attempted to get him back on his feet.

“We need to get down there,” Hardin said, moving before he even finished talking.

“Come on, Vixen,” Kaleb spoke quickly, reaching a hand back to me to help me down. “They’re going to pin down the Crows.”

Inodded, shifting onto the balls of my feet to climb over the desks and jump the three steps down to Kaleb.

ButI wasn’t going to help the Crows. WithHardin and Kaleb added to their lethal foursome, they’d be fine. Someone needed to make sure Séamas didn’t get away.

Ineeded to make sure.

Icouldn’t live knowing he was still alive out there. That he might show up at Hardin and Kaleb’s house like he showed up at my apartment. Or at Damien’s place.

Hewasn’t getting away this time.

AsHardin and Kaleb moved into easy position with their cousins, I slipped along the bleachers, staying as low to the ground as I could as I moved.

“Vixen!”

“Hawk!”

Imet each of their stares and shook my head.

“Stay there,” I shouted, making a hand gesture I hoped they could decipher and would listen to. Just this once. Listen.

TheCrows needed them. They didn’t need me.

Isearched for Aodhán as I went, suddenly vividly aware that in all the chaos when AvaJade and the Crows came crashing in, I lost sight of him. I’d been preoccupied trying to make sure Sloane got away—that Séamasdidn’t—that I didn’t look for him. Not right away.

Whatif he…?

Ishook my head, tracking every movement in my peripherals as I pushed to the blasted hole in the wall. From the ground, it was hard to see what was happening, but two quick shots in that direction made my breath catch. They sounded like they were aimed at me, but they hadn’t hit anywhere near me.

Skiddingto a stop, I slammed my back against the shadowed side of a trash bin and peered around it.

Mygrip tightened on my gun, finding Aodhán there, blocking the path of his father, the two Sons who’d been flanking Séamas dead on the ground.

WithSéamas’ back to me, I couldn’t hear what he was saying to Aodhán, but I could see how it made his son’s face pale and tighten in response.

Aodhánheld a gun pointed at Séamas but didn’t fire it.

Eitherhe couldn’t, or he was holding Séamas there for Damien.

Whicheverit was, Séamas seemed to gather that Aodhán wasn’t going to fire and started to advance on Aodhán.

Heshot Séamas in the arm and something savage and cruel blossomed in my chest, fucking thrilled to see him hurt. To see him suffer.

Wherewas Damien?

Ifsomeone didn’t take him out soon, he was going to find some way to slip away.

Ishifted, pushing up onto my knees to see through the throng of fighting bodies behind me, searching for Damien. I couldn’t see him.

Andthis couldn’t wait.

WhenI slipped from my hiding place, Aodhán’s gaze locked on mine for the briefest second before flicking away. Not wanting his da to know I was there, I figured, which gave me an idea.

Withall the fighting far behind us and only corpses between here and where Aodhán stood with his father…

IfI could just get there…

Idouble checked my clip and swore. I just needed one fucking bullet. I had zero. I felt around on my vest for a fresh clip, but the rough canvas fabric and bristle of velcro held nothing left to offer me.

I’dused up all three.

Butas my fingers brushed against the hard cold steel of Aodhán’s knife, I knew there was still something I could do.

Hetaught me.

InHardin and Kaleb’s fucking living room he taught me.

Asif he knew it would all come down to this moment.

Imotioned for Aodhán to keep him talking as I holstered my gun and moved forward, testing the grip of the switchblade in my palm. IfI could just get close enough, Iknew I could end this.

Séamaswas wearing a vest, but Aodhán showed me how to get up under it. Where to stab to have my enemy die a slow, painful death.

Icould do it.

Takingcareful steps, I crept closer to where they stood, their words coming clearer the closer I got.

“You’re pathetic,” Séamas snarled at Aodhán, leaving his arm to bleed without even bothering to try and stem the blood flow from the bullet wound there.

Aodhánsaid nothing.

Séamasthrew his arms wide, egging him on. “Just kill me, then, huh? I’d rather it be you than that American scum.”

Hehad a blade in his right hand, but no gun. Aodhán must’ve disarmed him, or he lost it in the chaos.

Séamasspit onto the floor as if he could spit on Damien himself.

Imoved closer.

“Ye can’t do it, can ye, fuil ma chud fola?”

Aodhán’seyes turned murderous, but he didn’t pull the trigger.

“You’reweak!You’ve always been weak.”

Closer.

“No, Da,” Aodhán said, lifting his chin. “A heart is not a weakness. It’s strength.”

“You sound like your damn Ma. She was weak, too. So weak she tried to kill me in my sleep!”

Sohe smothered her with a pillow in hers.

“At least she tried.” Séamas was screaming now, ranting at his son who showed no trace of emotion save for tension in the set of his jaw.

Closer.

Hejabbed his fingers toward Aodhán. “She was strong enough at least to try to end me, but you, fuil ma chud fola,” he spat the Gaelic words as if they tasted rotten. “You were never strong enough. Not then and not now.”

Mypulse thudded in my ears, and my hands shook as I steeled myself, holding my shuddering breaths.

“Maybe not,” Aodhán hissed. “But she is.”

Idarted the last two steps, driving my knife hand up into Séamas’ back, right in that soft spot below the lip of his bulletproof vest. The blade slid in like I was cutting butter, too easy, too painless. I twisted it at the hilt, grinding the blade inside him as he stilled and then wrenched himself free of my grasp.

“Get down!”

Idropped to the ground as Séamas swung a blade of his own in my direction, but his movements were weak, stilted, and his feet carried him two steps too far to the right before his legs gave out and he went to his knees.

Hesucked in air like he was breathing through a clogged pipe, each breath a hard, loud rasp that made his eyes grow ever wider as he struggled to get oxygen to a suffocating brain.

Istalked over to Aodhán and snatched the gun from his hands, aiming it at his father and firing. The gun kicked into my palm but spit out no bullet.

“Empty, mo mhuirnín,” Aodhán said behind me. “I’d have shot him again as soon as you drove in my Ma’s blade if I could’ve.”

Séamas’ knife hand fell into his lap as his body heaved, fighting for every short inhale.

Distantly, I registered that the fighting had mostly stopped. The rattle of constant gunfire ebbed to an infrequent pop and hiss.

Iturned to Aodhán, finding his green eyes fixed on the monster before us with a mixture of emotions on his face I couldn’t name. His fists clenched at his sides. “I should finish him.”

Ishook my head. “You don’t have to.”

Neitherof us did.

Itook Aodhán’s hand, clasping his fingers with mine as Séamas’ breaths became further apart. More choked. And then stopped completely, his head falling forward onto his chest.

Weneeded to be sure.

Ireleased Aodhán’s hand, but he clutched my fingers, pulling me back. “I’ll do it.”

AndI knew he needed to be the one.

Hetook three long strides forward and kicked the still half upright form of his father onto his side. Séamas didn’t respond.

Hebent over him, pulling the knife from his back, and he didn’t respond.

Hepressed two trembling fingers to his father’s throat, just for a second, and withdrew them as if burned by the contact.

HisAdam’s apple bobbed. “He’s dead.”

Runningsteps sounded behind us, and I spun, searching for a weapon I didn’t have until I saw who it was.

Kaleband Hardin.

Rook, Grey, Corvus, and AvaJade.

Behindthem, Sloane, Damien, and Zade.

Myeyes burned. They were okay.

Theywere all okay.

Iswallowed past the ball in my throat and stepped closer to Aodhán before they could reach us. I squeezed his arm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m glad it was her blade.”

Hiseyes welled as he looked at it in his hands, as if he could summon the woman who once wielded it. He pushed it closed, and I threw my arms around him, hugging him tight against me.

“It’s over,” I cried into his shoulder and felt his hands come around me, holding me tight. Holding me together.

“It’s over, love.”

“Becks!”

Aodhánreleased me just in time for AvaJade to steal me away from him, wrapping me up in a fierce hug that made me want to cry all over again.

“You made it,” I choked into her hair.

Shepulled me back, giving me a duh look that almost made me laugh. “Um, obviously,” she said with a crooked brow. “You’re my girl, Becks. Ride or die.”

“Ride or die,” I repeated with a hollow laugh.

Damienran up, coming to a sudden stop right on top of Séamas. He threw his unmoving body over onto his back and cursed, spitting on his corpse with barely contained rage still burning like open flames in his eyes.

“I couldn’t let him get away,” I said. “He needed to die.”

Sloane, caught up now, stared down at Séamas’ prone form and back up to me. “You did this?”

Inodded.

Iwasn’t sure what the rules were. Damien said the Irishman was his, but what if he’d gotten away? Or hurt Aodhán?

“I’m sorry, I?—”

“Come here, kid.”

Damienwrapped me up in a hug that I didn’t see coming. OneI didn’t realize I needed. “Well,” he said gruffly, the word expanding against me as he squeezed me and let go. “There’s no doubting it. You’re definitely a St. Vincent.”

“Definitely a Saint,” Kaleb added, and I let him tug me to him to press a kiss to my temple. I felt Hardin’s hand on my mid-back, like he just needed to feel that I was there. Unharmed. Okay.

“Are they all dead?” I asked, trying to see past them to the small group of Saints and a couple Sinners picking their way through the dead. Maybe searching for injured Saints to help, or injured Sons to sacrifice.

“They will be,” Damien replied, the words a promise. “Come on, Sloane,” he said, jerking his chin back toward the death pit I’d rather never look at again. “We should help the boys. Zade?”

“Coming, D.”

“You kids get out of here. Make sure none of them managed to get out. Meet us at the house later.”

Right. They’d need to figure out how the hell to put everything back together. By the look of it, Damien was down more than half of his own men. I didn’t even want to know what that felt like.

Icould see the effect it had on Hardin and Kaleb—their expressions relieved but withdrawn.

“Is anyone else starving?” Rook clutched a hand to his blood splattered stomach, leaning his AK against his shoulder casually as his face pinched up. “I could really go for some fries right now.”

AvaJade punched him in the arm.

“Ah, Ghost,” he snapped back without any real anger. “What? We’ve been driving all night.”

“You need stitching up then we’ll talk about takeout, okay?”

Helooked at the bullet wound still slowly seeping blood in his shoulder like it offended him but grumbled a request to Grey to help him with it.

Sherolled her eyes, leaving him to wax poetic to Grey about his desperate need for fast food as she came to stand next to me.

“So,” she said with a gleam in her arctic eyes. “Want to tell me how you learned to shoot?”

Ilet out a short sigh. “Only if you tell me how the hell you ended up here in dune buggies at the last possible second.”

Awicked smirk pulled up the corner of her lips, and I knew it was going to be a damn good story. “Trade stories over burgers and shakes?”

Asif on cue, my stomach growled loud enough to silence the hushed conversation between my Kings and the Crows. For the first time in what felt like weeks I was actually hungry.

Like, really fucking hungry.

Aflush heated my cheeks, and I cleared my throat.

“Yeah,” I said. “I could eat.”