Chloe
Dante Manzo was the man who had ordered her kidnapping. He was the monster her fathers had spent years making sure never got close to her again—the monster she swore she'd kill if she ever saw him. And Vengeance was his son.
Her stomach lurched. "No.” The word barely left her lips.
She looked at Vengeance, desperately searching for some sign that Lucius was lying—anything that would tell her this was another trick.
Instead, Vengeance simply stood there with his shoulders slumped and his eyes filled with something that looked heartbreakingly close to shame. He didn't deny it because he couldn't.
"Oh, God.” Her knees buckled as she stumbled backward until her back hit the rough bark of a pine tree. Every conversation replayed in her mind.
"I'm trying not to become my father."
"You'll hate me."
"You’ll judge me by my father."
"I know how they think."
"I've seen files like that before."
Every answer, every hesitation, and every carefully chosen word—they all made sense now. "You lied to me." Her voice cracked.
Vengeance took one cautious step toward her. "Chloe.”
"Don't,” she shouted. He stopped instantly.
"I wanted to tell you."
"When?" she shouted. "When we got to the safe house? When I let my guard down? Or maybe after I started trusting you?"
His jaw clenched. "I was trying to protect you."
She laughed, and the sound came out broken. "You protected me with lies."
"No,” he breathed. "I protected you by buying you time."
"What's the difference?"
"Everything,” he breathed.
She shook her head violently. "I let you near me." Her chest tightened until it hurt to breathe. "I trusted you."
"I know,” he said.
"I rode on your motorcycle and let you take me away from my home and family,” she said.
"I know."
"I—” She swallowed hard. “I actually believed you were a good man."
Pain flashed across his face. "So did Savage."
The words hit her like a slap. "Don't."
"Chloe—"
"I said don't say my father's name!" Her scream echoed through the trees, and the silence afterward was unbearable. Lucius smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, but a satisfied grin of a man watching exactly what he'd hoped for.
"See?" he said casually. "I told you she'd never forgive you."
Vengeance never looked away from Chloe. "I wasn't asking for forgiveness."
"No?" Lucius chuckled. "Could've fooled me."
Chloe couldn't stop shaking. Every instinct screamed at her to run and to get as far away from Vengeance Manzo as she possibly could.
But another voice, a quieter one, kept interrupting her thoughts.
He saved you. Vengeance had thrown himself over her when the clubhouse exploded and refused to leave her.
He'd risked his life over and over again.
None of that made sense. Unless everything he'd told her about hating his father was true.
Her eyes slowly lifted to his again. "Did you know?"
His brow furrowed. "Did I know what?"
"My kidnapping when I was just a kid—did you know about it?” she asked.
He closed his eyes. "Yes."
Her heart broke all over again. "You knew."
"I found out years later,” he admitted.
"But you knew."
"I watched the security footage of everything that happened,” he said. His voice was hollow. "I was fourteen."
She stared at him. "What?"
"My father made me watch it,” he said. The words hit her like ice water.
"Why would he do that to you?” she asked.
"He said it was education,” Vengeance said.
Lucius rolled his eyes. "Oh, for Christ's sake."
Vengeance ignored him. "He wanted us to understand fear."
Chloe felt sick. "He—” She couldn't finish the sentence. "He made children watch that?"
Vengeance nodded. "I couldn't sleep for weeks." She searched his face and realized that he wasn't lying. She could see it in his eyes that the memory still haunted him. "I tried to delete it."
Lucius laughed. "You cried like a baby.”
Vengeance's eyes snapped toward him. "I was fourteen."
"You embarrassed your father by acting that way,” Lucius said.
His voice hardened. "I was disgusted.” Vengeance looked back at Chloe. "I've spent twenty years trying to erase what my father did."
"You can't erase what he did to me,” she breathed.
"I know,” he said.
"So why?” she asked.
He looked genuinely confused. "Why what?"
"Why try to help me?" she asked. The question had been eating at her since Huntsville. "Why risk your life for me?"
His answer came without hesitation. "Because you deserved better than what my father did to you. Hell, you always deserved better."
She crossed her arms over her body, as though trying to keep herself from breaking down. He was right. She deserved better than what the Dragons did to her. “You’re right,” she breathed, “I did deserve better.”
"My father stole something from you." His voice grew quieter.
"I can't give it back." No, he couldn't because no one could.
"But I'll die before I let him take anything else from you.
" Something cracked inside her. It wasn’t forgiveness or even understanding.
It was the certainty that he believed every word he'd just said.
Lucius sighed dramatically. "Are we done with the touchy-feely shit?" He raised his rifle again. "Dante's getting impatient." Vengeance stepped sideways, placing himself directly between Chloe and the barrel, and Lucius smirked. "There you are.”
"What is that supposed to mean?” Vengeance asked.
"You’re the boy your father could never break," Lucius said.
Vengeance's expression turned to stone. "I'm not a boy anymore."
"No, you’re not.” Lucius nodded. "You've become a problem." He adjusted his grip on the rifle. "Dante gave me one final instruction."
Vengeance slowly raised his pistol and pointed it at Lucius. "What instruction?"
Lucius smiled. "If Chloe won't come willingly—” His finger tightened on the trigger.
"I should just kill you first and then take her.
" Time seemed to slow. Chloe saw Vengeance move before she heard the gunfire.
He didn't dive away, trying to protect himself.
Instead, he turned and threw his entire body in front of her.
The first shot rang out, and then a second, and a third.
Vengeance grunted as his body slammed into hers with enough force to knock them both to the ground.
For one terrifying heartbeat, he didn't move.
"Vengeance?" she shouted as she shoved at his shoulder. "Vengeance!" A low groan escaped him, and relief flooded through her until she looked down and saw that his left side was soaked in blood. His white T-shirt was bright red.
"Oh, God." Her hands shook as she pressed them against the wound. "No, no, no, no."
Vengeance grabbed her wrist. His face had gone pale.
"You have to—" He struggled for air. "Run.
" She looked into his pain-filled eyes and then back toward Lucius, only to realize that Lucius was gone.
The only thing left behind was the echo of tires spinning on gravel, and the horrifying certainty that he'd gotten exactly what he'd come for.
He now knew where to find Dante's runaway son, and she had a sick feeling that he was Lucius’s target this whole time, because Vengeance would always be a threat to him.
"No, no, no.” Her hands pressed harder against Vengeance's side, trying desperately to stop the blood pouring between her fingers. There was so much blood. Tears blurred her vision until she could barely see the wound.
"Stay with me," she begged.
His face had gone frighteningly pale beneath the moonlight. "I'm fine."
She glared at him through her tears. "You are such a terrible liar."
A weak chuckle escaped him before he sucked in a sharp breath. "Yeah." His eyes squeezed shut. "I've heard that before."
"Don't close your eyes,” she ordered.
"I'm just going to rest my eyes,” he said.
"No.” She shook him gently. "You don't get to do that."
His eyelids fluttered open again. "Bossy."
"My dads say I come by it honestly." The smile that touched his lips disappeared almost as quickly as it came.
"Savage—” Vengeance said. The name caught in her chest. For the first time since she'd learned who Vengeance really was, she didn't stop him from saying it. Instead, she swallowed around the lump in her throat.
"He'd be yelling at me right now,” she said.
Vengeance looked confused. "For what?"
"For sitting here crying instead of fixing the problem.” A fresh wave of tears escaped. "He always said there was time to fall apart later." She looked around desperately. The pickup truck that the old man was driving was gone. Lucius was gone, and they were alone.
"I need to take you to a hospital,” she said.
"No."
She blinked. "What?"
"No hospitals,” he breathed.
"Vengeance—"
"They'll be watching.” He was right, and she hated that he was right.
"What about a clinic?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No, there’ll be cameras."
She wanted to scream. "There has to be somewhere." He reached slowly into the inside pocket of his kutte, and she noticed how his hand trembled. When he finally pulled it free, there was a folded piece of paper stained with blood.
"Call this number." She unfolded it. There was only one name. Doc Mercer, and underneath his name was a phone number.
"Who's Doc Mercer?"
"Friend,” Vengeance whispered.
"You trust him?"
"With my life."
She stared at the paper. "That's saying a lot."
"It is,” he said.
She looked around. "I don't have a phone."
He almost smiled. "I noticed."
His burner phone, the one he'd thrown into the creek, was gone.
"Damn it." She stood so quickly that her knees nearly gave out.
Think, think, think. Her eyes landed on Lucius's abandoned rifle and the SUV tracks that he left behind.
Then, she noticed the old man's tire marks.
He'd gone toward the highway, and if she hurried, she might be able to find help there.
"Stay here,” she ordered.
Vengeance grabbed her wrist. "No."
"I'll be right back,” she promised, but had no idea if she’d be able to keep that promise or not.
"No,” he breathed again.
"You need help." His grip tightened despite the blood loss.