Vengeance
"I'm—" he started before stopping himself. Coward. He could face down armed men without breaking a sweat, but he couldn't answer one honest question from the woman standing in front of him. "I don't know how to answer that."
Chloe folded her arms. "You know your name, right?"
"I do,” he said.
"Then start there." God, she sounded so much like Bowie—stubborn, direct, and impossible to distract.
"If I tell you now?—”
"You think I'll run,” she finished for him.
"No." He sighed. "I think you'll shoot me."
She actually snorted. "I don't even own a gun."
"You grew up around Royal Bastards."
"So?" she asked.
"So, I'm guessing Bowie made sure you know how to use one,” Vengeance said. She didn't deny it. Instead, she tilted her head to look up at him better.
"You're changing the subject,” she said.
"I know,” Vengeance admitted.
"Why are you doing that?” she asked.
"Because I'm trying to buy myself another day,” he admitted. Her expression softened just enough for him to notice.
"Why?” Chloe asked.
"Because one more day might be enough for you to know me—” His voice dropped. "Instead of judging me by who my father is." The words slipped out before he could stop them. Damn it.
Chloe's eyes narrowed immediately. "Your father?" He nodded once. "What about him?" she asked.
"Well, there’s nothing good about him if that’s what you’re asking." He was dodging her questions, but sooner or later, he knew that he’d have to stop playing games with her. Chloe was too smart for games.
She took a slow step towards him. "You've mentioned him half a dozen times."
"I know,” Vengeance said.
"Do you hate him?” she asked.
"More than anyone alive,” he admitted.
"Why?" He had so many answers to her question that he wasn’t sure which one to give her.
He could have gone with complete honesty—because he's Dante. Or that his father had built monsters instead of raising sons. He could have told her that every scar on his back had his father’s fingerprints on it.
But the worst part was that he was hunting Chloe, and Vengeance was pretty sure that he was the reason why his father was coming after her.
All of those were valid answers, but instead, Vengeance looked away. "He taught me what evil looks like."
"My therapist says people either become their parents or spend the rest of their lives trying not to."
His head slowly turned back toward her. "Your therapist is smart."
"Which are you?" she asked.
His laugh held no humor. "I'm trying every damn day not to become him."
She studied him for several seconds. "I think you're winning." The words hit him harder than they should have. If she only knew how much he wasn't winning. Hell, he was barely surviving.
His burner phone vibrated in his jacket, and he softly cursed.
Only three people had the number. Nobody should've been calling.
He pulled it from his pocket and saw that it was from an unknown caller.
His blood ran cold as he stared at it. The phone stopped ringing, and a text appeared. His stomach dropped as he read it.
YOU CAN'T HIDE HER FOREVER.
There was no number, no name—just another message.
COME HOME, SON.
Every ounce of blood drained from his face. "No,” he whispered.
"Who is it from?" Chloe asked. He didn't answer her, and another message came through.
OR I'LL COME GET YOU BOTH.
His hands began to shake—not from fear, but from rage. For years, he made sure Dante couldn't find him. He changed his name, ditched his phones for new ones, and changed cities. He burned every bridge behind him, and somehow, His father had found him.
"Vengeance?" Chloe whispered. He finally looked up. Chloe was watching him carefully. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I wish it were a ghost,” he admitted. He immediately powered the phone off, removed the battery, and threw both into opposite sides of the creek.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"He found me,” Vengeance said as though that would explain everything.
"Who found you?” she asked. He didn't answer. Instead, he walked to the motorcycle and started stripping gear from the saddlebags. He kept only what they needed—extra ammunition, a medical kit, cash, maps- and left everything else behind. Traveling lighter meant traveling faster.
"We're changing plans,” he said.
"What plans?" Chloe asked.
"We're not going to the safe house,” Vengeance said.
She stared at him. "What?"
"They know about it,” he said.
"You don't know that."
"I do."
"How?" Chloe asked.
He looked at the dead phone lying in the water. "Because it’s on the map that the old guy just gave us. And I’m betting that the leak in the Royal Bastards told whoever is hunting you where we are going."
“We can’t be sure of that,” she insisted.
"I’m pretty damn sure of it,” he growled. “Because someone just texted me, and I know that he’s the one hunting you.”
Her eyes widened. "How does the person hunting me have your phone number?" she asked. The question made him freeze. She'd quickly connected the dots. "Unless—” Her voice grew quieter. "They already knew you."
He didn't answer because she wouldn’t like what he had to say.
"You know them." He stood silently, staring her down.
"You've always known them. They know you well enough to call you.” The accusation hung in the air between them, and his heart pounded.
He'd imagined this moment a thousand times.
None of them had happened beneath a railroad bridge while running for their lives.
"Say something,” Chloe shouted.
He closed his eyes. "I can't."
"You won't,” she challenged.
"Can’t and won’t aren’t the same thing,” he said.
"They are to me." He opened his mouth, but nothing came out because once he told her the truth, there would be no going back. She would never look at him the same way again.
A distant engine echoed through the mountains, and he cursed under his breath. "They're close."
She grabbed his arm before he could move away. "No." He looked down at her hand. "You don't get to keep secrets anymore."
"Chloe—"
"No,” she spat; her voice was steady despite the fear in her eyes. "Whoever's hunting us knows you."
"Yes,” he breathed.
"You've spent this entire trip protecting me,” Chloe said.
"I have,” he admitted.
"So, answer the fucking question,” she shouted. He waited, not sure how to answer her. "Are you one of them?"
He looked straight into her blue eyes. "No." The answer came without hesitation or doubt. He wouldn’t apologize for who he was because he couldn’t help that. All he could do now was right his father’s wrongs and keep Chloe safe.
She searched his face for the lie, but he knew that she didn't find one. "Then tell me who you are."
Vengeance's chest tightened. His lips parted. "I—” A gunshot shattered the night. The bullet slammed into the Harley’s gas tank, and fuel sprayed across the gravel.
Vengeance grabbed Chloe around the waist and threw both of them behind the concrete bridge support as a voice echoed through the darkness.
"Found you,” a man’s voice called. Vengeance knew that voice. His blood turned to ice. He hadn't heard it in nearly ten years, but he'd recognize it anywhere. It was his father's right-hand man—Lucius. He knew one thing for certain—if Lucius was here, then Dante wasn't far behind.
Vengeance's pulse slammed against his ribs.
Lucius. Out of every man Dante had ever trusted, Lucius Riser was the one Vengeance feared the most. Dante was cruel because he enjoyed it.
Lucius was cruel because he believed in it.
He never questioned an order; he simply carried it out.
The fact that Lucius was here meant one thing—his father wasn't far behind.
Another shot rang out, ricocheting off the concrete support inches above Chloe's head, and concrete dust rained over them. "Stay down," Vengeance barked.
"I'm getting really tired of you saying that,” she breathed.
Despite everything, the corner of his mouth twitched. "You’re still breathing, so you’re welcome."
She rolled her eyes. "You joke at a time like this?"
"It's either that or panic,” he admitted.
"I vote that we panic,” she said.
"I don't." He carefully peeked around the edge of the support beam and spotted three men. Lucius had brought two shooters. He was using one to advance while the other provided cover. It was exactly how Dante trained them.
"They're splitting up," Vengeance muttered.
"What?" Chloe asked.
"They're trying to pin us to this spot,” he said.
"Can we get to the bike?" she asked. He glanced toward the Harley as fuel poured steadily from the punctured tank.
"No,” he whispered. “It’s no good now, anyway.”
"So we're stuck?" she asked.
He shrugged. "We’ll improvise." Another round of bullets struck the bridge.
Lucius's voice drifted through the darkness. "You've always been predictable, kid." Vengeance closed his eyes for half a second, hating the same calm voice that invaded his nightmares.
"You know," Lucius called, "your father said you'd make this difficult."
Chloe looked at him. "Wait, what does this have to do with your father?" she asked.
Vengeance ignored her question. "What do you want, Lucius?" he asked.
"The girl,” Lucius called back.
"Not happening,” Vengeance growled.
"You've disappointed your father long enough,” Lucius said.
"It’s become a hobby of mine,” Vengeance said.
Lucius laughed. "You always did have a mouth on you." Another bullet struck the bridge—closer this time.
"We don't have much time," Vengeance whispered.
"I noticed,” Chloe grumbled. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small black cylinder, and Chloe frowned.
"What is that?" she asked.
"It’s something that can create enough smoke to give us some cover,” he said.
"You carry smoke grenades?" she asked.
"I told you—” He pulled the pin. “I learned how to do things from the wrong people.
" He tossed it twenty feet to their left, and thick gray smoke immediately billowed across the clearing.
"Move!" He grabbed Chloe's hand and sprinted.
They stayed low, weaving through trees while the smoke concealed them.
Gunfire erupted behind them as the men fired blindly into the smoke.
Lucius wasn't shooting; he was listening and tracking them.
Vengeance knew exactly how dangerous that made him.
They reached the far side of the creek, and Vengeance slid behind a massive fallen oak.
"Catch your breath,” he ordered.
"I'm trying." Her chest heaved. "I am officially out of shape."
He almost smiled. "I've seen worse."
She shot him a glare. "I appreciate the encouragement." A flashlight beam swept through the smoke. It was Lucius, and he wasn’t rushing because he knew that eventually, Vengeance would run out of grenades and cover.
"He's hunting us," Chloe whispered.
"No." Vengeance watched Lucius carefully. "He's hunting me to get to you."
Her eyes widened. "He knows you'll go to him to protect me."
"Exactly." Lucius stopped walking. He looked directly toward their hiding place, and Vengeance's stomach dropped.
"He sees us,” she whispered.
"No, it’s worse than that,” he said.
"What?" she asked.
"He just guessed right,” Vengeance breathed.
Lucius smiled. "I know you're there, V." Only one person had ever called him that, and God, he hated that nickname. "Come on out. I don't want to shoot the girl."
Chloe looked horrified. Lucius continued, "You've made this personal."
"It already was personal,” Vengeance said.
"It doesn't have to be,” Lucius insisted.
Vengeance stood slowly. "What are you doing?" Chloe hissed.
"Buying you time,” he said.
"No,” she breathed.
"If he sees you run—" Vengeance started.
"I'm not leaving you,” Chloe insisted.
"You don't get a vote,” Vengeance growled.
"The hell I don't.” He looked at her with her hair covered in concrete dust and dried blood on her sleeve from where she'd scraped her arm diving behind cover.
Her blue eyes were fierce, determined, and beautiful.
He knew that if he didn't do something, she'd be dead before sunrise.
He made his decision and stepped out from behind the tree.
Lucius grinned. "There you are." The older man hadn't changed much. Gray threaded through his black hair now, and he had more scars. He wore the same expensive leather jacket. And he had the same dead eyes—the kind that looked like they could look straight into a person’s soul.
"You've gotten old," Vengeance assessed.
Lucius laughed. “And you’ve gone soft.” His gaze shifted past Vengeance. "You brought her to us, just like you said you would."
"I never said that,” Vengeance insisted. He could feel Chloe’s eyes on him, and he hoped like hell that she didn’t believe Lucius’s lies. “I said I'd protect her."
"You said a lot of things." Lucius lowered his rifle. "Your father misses you."
Vengeance barked a laugh. "No, he doesn’t. He misses controlling me."
"Same difference,” Lucius said. "You always were difficult."
"I learned from the best,” Vengeance said.
A flicker of amusement crossed Lucius's face. "That’s fair.” He took another step forward. "Dante's willing to forgive everything." Chloe’s gasp was nearly his undoing. He wanted to look at her and explain everything, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Lucius.
Vengeance actually laughed. "Liar."
"I'm serious,” Lucius lied.
"My father doesn't forgive,” Vengeance said.
"No." Lucius nodded. "He rewards loyalty."
Vengeance's expression hardened. "Tell him to find another son."
Lucius's smile disappeared. "You’re his only son, V." The words hit like a freight train, and Chloe gasped again behind the tree. Lucius slowly looked toward her. "I guess he never told you,” he said almost casually,
Vengeance's blood froze. "Lucius."
"What?" he innocently asked.
"Don't,” Vengeance warned.
The older man ignored him. Instead, he smiled at Chloe. "You've been trusting the wrong man, sweetheart."
Vengeance drew his pistol. "I said don't."
Lucius never even glanced at the weapon. "You should ask him what his last name is." She crouched silently in the woods. "Ask him,” he shouted at Chloe.
Chloe slowly stood, and confusion clouded her face. "Vengeance?" His heart pounded so hard it hurt. He didn’t want her to find out like this—not like this.
"Tell her,” Lucius said. He couldn't—he physically couldn't force the words past his lips. Lucius chuckled. "I'll save you the trouble." He looked directly at Chloe. "The man risking his life for you is Vengeance Manzo, Dante’s son.” Everything stopped around them—even the wind seemed to still.
Chloe stared at him and then back at Lucius. "Manzo?" Her voice barely existed. "No." Vengeance couldn't breathe. “You’re Dante’s son?” She shook her head as though trying to shake off the fog clouding her brain. "Dante Manzo?" Tears filled her eyes. “You're his son."
Vengeance closed his eyes as the world around him felt like it was falling apart. The secret he'd spent years trying to keep was finally out, and there would be no taking it back now.