CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
SARAH
I’m not a woman who backs down, not even when the odds are stacked against me.
So when I see a gun pointed at James, I don’t hesitate.
He’d called to me with a smile in his voice. He’d found the yellow tents, just as he promised. But the moment I turned, searching for him, the gun was already aimed at his head.
“Sarah, wait,” Michael murmurs beside me.
Too late. I’m already moving. I close the distance between me and James in seconds, running so fast I barely feel the ground.
The woman holding a gun on the man I love locks eyes with me. I know her on sight—Alicia, an Outsider. Her pink hair stands out against her black leather jacket. Before I even register the thought, my gun’s in my hand, raised, aimed straight at her.
“Fucking delicate situation, isn’t it?” she asks, laughing as if this is some kind of joke. She’s always laughing at things that aren’t even remotely funny.
“Drop it,” I snap. “Now.”
“Planning to shoot us all, are you?” Her eyes flick to the side, and that’s when I see them.
Five people. All armed. All aiming at James, too.
My whole body tenses, a knot of anxiety twisting in my gut. But I tilt my chin up, ignoring her threat.
“I’m only aiming at you,” I reply, and I swear James’s mouth falls open like he can’t believe I just said that.
A slow smile creeps onto Alicia’s lips. “Interesting.”
She snaps her fingers, and everyone in her group turns their guns on me.
“And now, they’re all aiming at you.”
“Don’t!” James snaps.
His gun is up, aimed right at Alicia’s head. His face is unreadable, but his eyes make the promise for him. He hadn’t flinched when they had him at gunpoint. Not once. But the second they turned it on me, he moved like he’d been struck.
Alicia barely reacts. She tilts her head, her attention drifting past me.
“Hey, blondie,” she calls, waving a hand. “I see you back there, hiding and pointing your gun at me. Come on out, join us.”
Michael.
He’s crouched behind a shelf, but when she calls him out, he steps forward and takes his place beside me. His shotgun stays trained on her, unwavering.
Alicia doesn’t look the least bit concerned. If anything, her smile grows. She bites her bottom lip, eyeing my brother like she’s mentally undressing him.
“Mmm. I’ve always had a thing for blond guys,” she purrs.
Michael’s face is stone. He doesn’t even blink, just keeps his shotgun steady.
“You’re not with Frank’s gang, and they’re the last ones left,” Alicia says. “So what rules did Tyler shove down your throat?”
Her gaze drifts between James, Michael, and me.
James’s grip on the gun doesn’t waver. “There. Are. No. More. Rules.”
The words hit like a bolt of lightning.
Alicia’s expression shifts, her lips part, and her eyes flicker with something unmistakable. Respect.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “You’re an Outsider too.”
She lowers her gun, and the rest of her group follows. One by one, their weapons drop as murmurs ripple among them.
James exhales, then slowly lowers his weapon. I slide mine back into my holster, and Michael does the same.
Alicia closes the space between them, her sharp eyes studying James. “Who are you, big man?”
James looks at me. I know what he’s thinking. He has to give his name.
I meet his eyes and nod.
He turns to face the group, his shoulders squaring.
“James Hill.”
I feel the shift like the whole room holds its breath. Everyone behind Alicia starts to whisper, their eyes fixed on him.
“Is that really him?” someone mutters.
“He’s the reason no one controls Dallas,” another whispers.
“Hill,” Alicia repeats, adjusting the collar of her black jacket as if the name carries weight. “But that’s not possible. Hill’s dead. Everyone knows that.” Her eyes narrow. “How do I know you’re not just one of Tyler’s puppets pretending to be an Outsider?”
James’s hand slips into his jacket pocket, and he pulls out his dad’s old pocket watch. The metal catches the light, drawing everyone’s attention.
He holds the watch out to Alicia. She hesitates, fingers hovering over it for a second before she takes it.
She furrows her brow. “What am I supposed to do with this old watch?”
“Look at the back,” James says.
The whole place goes dead silent.
She turns it over, her fingers tracing the engraved letters.
HILL.
Her eyes snap up to him. “Shit! It’s really you. Everybody thought you were dead. You just disappeared a year ago.”
James’s jaw tightens. “You can’t kill what’s already dead.”
Alicia’s lips curl. “Couldn’t agree more.”
I don’t get what that means. Maybe it’s something only Outsiders say.
She hands the watch back to him.
“James Hill saved my cousin in Austin.”
A single voice breaks the silence, making every head turn.
And then, like shadows, more than thirty people step out from behind the shelves where they’d been hiding. They slowly make their way toward us.
“James Hill rescued my sister in Houston,” another person says. “Some bastard kidnapped her. The Outsider got her back.”
“James Hill took down the raiders that burned my friend’s house in Fort Worth,” a woman says from the back.
“James Hill went up against the gang that runs Waco,” a man adds, stepping up beside James. “My family got out because of you. They’re still alive.”
I move closer to James, slipping my hand into his. His fingers tighten around mine, but his eyes… they scan the crowd, flicking from face to face as the stories pour out.
One after another, they speak. Every story carries a name. A place. A piece of him. Someone he saved. Someone he rescued. A town he freed. A threat he took down.
These people aren’t just witnesses. They’re James’s history, living proof of everything he’s done and every life he’s changed.
I watch as James’s shoulders ease, the tension in his face fading. The doubt, the guilt, all the things he thinks he’s done wrong? Right now, they’re showing him just how much he’s done right.
One by one, people walk up to shake his hand, each one wanting to touch the man who changed everything. Girls my age hug him. Older women kiss his cheek. I’ve never seen anyone get that much attention, except for my dad.
People always looked at him with that kind of respect, too.
But this feels different. These aren’t neighbors or people we grew up with.
They’re total strangers. And still, they look at James like he’s the most important person in the room.
Like he means something to them, even if they don’t really know him.
An hour later, we’re sitting on the floor in a corner of the store, backs against the wall, my hand still wrapped around James’s. Everyone else is scattered around the place.
“I didn’t know,” James says quietly.
“About what?”
He takes a deep breath, eyes fixed on the people around us. “I’ve always thought about the ones I lost, who I couldn’t save. Never once thought about the ones who made it.”
For the first time, maybe ever, James is seeing himself the way they see him.
Not just a man who’s spent his life fighting.
But as a man who’s saved lives.
I squeeze his hand. “James, you’re a good man. I’ve always known that.” I trace slow circles over his knuckles. “No one can save everyone. Michael and I couldn’t save our dad. But sometimes a story has to end so another one can begin. That’s why we’re still here.”
James’s lips twitch. “Have you always been this clever?”
I grin. “As a matter of fact, yes. And this time, I don’t even need beer to help.”
He chuckles, then lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it, making my stomach flip.
Michael chooses that exact moment to plop down in front of us.
“Told you that pocket watch surviving the river was important,” he says.
James smiles, and I can see it in his eyes—he remembers it just like I do. After he rescued Michael and me from the river when the bridge collapsed, he was pissed about losing my dad’s compass, but somehow, his dad’s watch had made it through.
Michael turns to me, still grinning. “And you. Pulling a gun on Alicia? I always knew you were crazy, little sister.”
Crazy? Maybe. But even I can hear the pride in his voice.
James brushes a stray braid from my cheek and lets his fingers linger there for a beat. “You’re insane, Sarah.”
“You mean insanely in love.”
He shakes his head in disbelief, but there’s something in his eyes that makes my heart skip.
Michael nudges James’s shoulder. “So… you’re like Batman?”
I laugh. Only Michael can take something heavy and make it sound ridiculous.
James raises a brow, amused. “I told you to read a book, not a comic.”
Michael rolls his eyes. “There are words in comics.”
Before James can argue, Alicia strides over and stops in front of him. He gestures for her to sit, and she drops down next to Michael, shrugging off her black jacket. Her arms are covered in scars—some light, some deeper, almost like the ones James has.
James’s eyes flick down to her arms. Just for a second, but I see it.
“The other gangs Tyler controlled? They’ve vanished,” Alicia says, getting straight to the point.
“But he still has eyes everywhere using Frank’s gang.
” She turns and nods toward the survivors across the store.
“Today, when I finally found where the Reed Brothers had trapped those people, we got ambushed. They almost caught us by barricading every damn building in this part of the city.”
James’s expression doesn’t change, but I feel the tension in his hand.
“How many gangs does Tyler control?” he asks.
“Four. Frank’s the only one left. He handles city surveillance.
The others—Aaron, Axel, and Brandon—are gone.
Aaron gave him cars. Axel provided labor.
Brandon kept him stocked with weapons. That’s how Tyler ran half of Colorado.
Each one of them had a job, and together, they kept his empire running.
But now? I’ve got no clue what happened to them. ”
A chill runs down my spine.