Chapter 12 #4
Matthew ends his call and rejoins us, his expression grim. "My dad's expecting us. We should leave within the hour, before dawn."
I glance at the front door, thinking of Morgan and Charlie inside. They need to feel safe, need to believe we can protect them. But with Harris out there watching, waiting, planning…
"We'll take both vehicles," I decide. "I'll drive with Morgan and Charlie. Matthew, you follow in your truck. Weapons ready, eyes open."
"And I'll have men on your route," Greyson adds. "Discreet, but present."
We move quickly, efficiently. Inside, I find Morgan packing a small bag for Charlie, who sits on the bed watching with wide, frightened eyes.
"We're going on a trip," Morgan tells her, her voice light despite the tension in her shoulders. "To a cabin in the mountains. It has a big fireplace and lots of room to explore."
Charlie nods, but her small hands are white-knuckled around her unicorn. "Is it because of the deer?"
I crouch beside her, taking one of her hands in mine. "It's because we want you to be extra safe while we deal with your dad. The cabin belongs to Matthew's family. It's very special."
"Will we come back here?" Her voice is small, uncertain.
"Yes," I promise, meaning it with every fiber of my being. "This is our home. Nothing will change that."
Morgan finishes packing and helps Charlie into her shoes. "Just the essentials for now," she says quietly to me. "We can come back for more once we've secured the house better."
I nod, my mind already planning improvements to our security cameras, motion sensors, and locks. But I know that no security system can stop a determined man with nothing to lose.
As we prepare to leave, I stand at the front door, looking out at the bloodstained porch. The deer head is gone now as Mason removed it while we were packing, but I can still see the dark stain on the wood.
Harris thinks he's hunting us. He thinks he has the advantage, the element of surprise.
But he's made a fatal mistake. He threatened what's mine. And now the hunter has become the hunted.
I turn away from the door, joining my family in the hallway. Charlie clings to Morgan's hand, but gives me a small, brave smile when I approach.
"Ready?" I ask, taking the small backpack from Morgan.
"Ready," she confirms, though her eyes are still shadowed with fear.
I place my hand on her lower back, a gesture of support and protection. "We'll find him, Morgan. This ends on our terms."
She nods, her jaw set with determination. "Make him pay, Trenton."
I don't make promises I can't keep. But as we move toward the garage, Charlie between us and Matthew following with the weapons bag, I know this isn't just about protection anymore.
Morgan
The front door closes behind us, and the cool night air hits my face as we make our way to the garage. I keep Charlie's hand firmly in mine, my other arm wrapped protectively around her small shoulders. The sight of my father's truck pulling up our driveway makes my breath catch.
"Dad's here," I say, relief flooding through me as he rolls to a stop, gravel crunching under the tires.
My mother is already climbing out of the passenger side before the truck fully stops, her face tight with worry. "Morgan! Are you okay? We came as soon as Isaac got the call."
I nod, pulling Charlie closer. "We're fine. Harris sent men to—"
I stop as another truck appears behind my father's. The headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating Kane's familiar vehicle with Sydney beside him in the passenger seat. Behind them comes Carter in his newer Ford, his muscular frame visible even through the windshield.
"Carter?" The name escapes my lips before I can stop it. We grew up together, but I haven't seen him since he joined the MMA circuit and then the club.
My father moves to my side, his hand heavy on my shoulder. "I called in everyone who could get here fast. We're not taking chances with this bastard."
Sydney and Kane approach, their expressions grim. Kane's face is weathered from years of hard living, but his eyes are sharp and alert as he scans our surroundings.
Carter joins us, his fighter's physique evident even in his casual stance. He nods at me, his eyes softening when they land on Charlie.
"Hey, Morgan. Been a while." He crouches down to Charlie's level. "You must be Charlie. I'm Carter. I used to push Morgan on the swings when we were kids."
Charlie gives him a small smile, the first I've seen since the night's chaos began. "You did?"
"Yeah, but she always wanted to go higher than I'd push her." His voice is gentle, reassuring. "She's always been brave."
Matthew appears in the doorway, two duffel bags slung over his shoulder. "We're ready."
My mother moves to help me get Charlie settled in our SUV, while Trenton speaks quietly with my father and the others. I can't hear their words, but their expressions are enough to tell me they're discussing Evan.
"Morgan," my mother says softly as she helps me fasten Charlie's seat belt, "we'll follow you to the cabin. You won't be alone in this."
"Thank you, Mom." The words feel inadequate for the relief I feel.
Once Charlie is secured, I turn to find Carter approaching, his expression serious.
"The club's got your back, Morgan," he tells me. "Harris made a mistake coming after you and that little girl."
"He's dangerous," I warn, glancing at Charlie to make sure she can't hear us. "He's killed before."
Carter's jaw tightens. "So have I. In the cage, it's sport. This? This is personal."
The quiet confidence in his voice should scare me, but instead, it gives me strength. These men, these Devil Souls, they understand what family means.
"We're rolling out," Trenton announces, climbing into the driver's seat. "Morgan, you and Charlie will be in here with me. Matthew will follow with the weapons. Isaac, you take point. Kane and Sydney, you cover the rear."
My father nods once, his face set in the determined expression I've known since childhood. "We'll keep comms open. Any sign of trouble, we'll know."
As I slide into the passenger seat beside Trenton, I catch a glimpse of Carter moving to his truck. He meets my eyes through the window, giving me a small nod of reassurance.
The engine roars to life, and I watch in the side mirror as our convoy forms with my father leading, then us, Matthew following, and finally Kane and Sydney with Carter bringing up the rear. Five vehicles, all carrying people who would die to protect us.
Charlie stirs in her car seat, her small voice breaking the tension. "Are we going to be safe at the cabin, Ms. Morgan?"
I reach back to squeeze her hand. "Yes, sweetheart. We'll be very safe there."
Trenton's hand finds mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "The club won't let anything happen to you two. Not ever."
As we pull away from our home, I watch the security lights fade in the distance.
I look at Charlie in the rearview mirror, her small face pale but brave. I think of the women Evan has killed, those who looked like me, who might have looked like Charlie's mother. The families he's destroyed, the lives he's ended.
The highway stretches before us, dark and empty in the predawn hours. My phone buzzes with a text from my mother: We've got you. Always.
Trenton's hand remains steady on the wheel, his gaze constantly scanning our surroundings. I've seen that look before on missions, in dangerous situations. It's the look of a man assessing threats, planning responses, anticipating dangers before they materialize.
"He was watching us tonight," I say quietly, keeping my voice low so Charlie won't hear. "The whole time."
Trenton nods, his jaw tightening. "He wanted us to know he was close. Wanted us to feel vulnerable."
"What's the plan when we reach the cabin?" I ask finally.
Trenton glances at me, then back at the road. His hands tighten on the wheel.
"We leave you there," he says. "With Charlie. With your mom and the others."
The words hit me harder than I expect. "You're leaving us?"
"Morgan." He says my name the way he does when he wants me to listen and not argue. "If we keep running, we're letting him set the terms. We're always going to be one step behind."
Matthew's headlights fill the rearview mirror. I can see the shape of him behind the wheel, his posture rigid even from this distance.
"So we go on the offensive," I say, understanding clicking into place. "Instead of waiting for him to come to us."
"We hunt him." Trenton's voice drops to that register, the one that means the decision is already made, the wheels are already turning, and he's just informing me because he respects me enough not to keep it a secret.
"Matthew and me. We use what the three men told us tonight.
We follow the trail to the Pinewood. We pick it up from there and we don't stop until he's been handled. "
"Handled." I let the word sit between us. I know what it means. I've always known what it means, with these two, with this club, with the kind of men who spend years in places where handling is the only language that ends things cleanly.
"Yes," he says.
I look in the back seat. Charlie has drifted off, her unicorn pressed against her cheek, her breathing even and slow. She doesn't look like a child who spent the last hour hiding in a safe room while men tried to take her. She looks like a child who trusts the people in this car.
"I don't like being left behind," I say quietly.
"I know."
"I don't like being the thing that gets protected while you two go out and do the dangerous work."
His hand finds mine on the center console. Warm. Steady. "I know that too."
The highway unspools ahead of us. My father's taillights glow red in the darkness, steady and sure. Kane's and Carter's trucks behind Matthew's, a solid block of metal and intention.
"You'll have your parents," Trenton says. "Kane, Sydney, Carter. Greyson's sending more. The cabin is defensible as my dad used it for club meetings back when he wanted to be somewhere no one could find."