DARKNESS EMBRACED

A Hades Hangmen Novel

Tillie Cole

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 Copyright© Tillie Cole 2019 All rights reserved

Copyedited by www.kiathomasediting.com
& Thomas Lindsay
Formatted by Stephen Jones
Cover Design by www.Damonza.com

ebook Edition
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This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, actual events or
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 Dedication

For Tanner and Adelita.

We finally get to tell your story.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Dedication

Glossary

Prologue
Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three
Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six
Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

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 Glossary
(Not in alphabetical order)

The Order Terminology

The Order: Apocalyptic New Religious Movement. Beliefs based on selected Christian teachings,

strongly believe the apocalypse is imminent. Previously led by Prophet David (declared himself to be
a Prophet of God and a descendant of King David), the elders and the disciples. Succeeded by

Prophet Cain (nephew of Prophet David).

The members live together in a secluded commune; based on traditional and modest living,
polygamy and unorthodox religious practices. Believe the ‘outside world’ is sinful and evil. Have no

contact with non-members.

Commune: Property owned by The Order and controlled by Prophet Cain. Segregated living

community. Policed by disciples and elders and stocked with weapons in case of an outside world

attack. Men and women kept in separate areas of the commune. The Cursed kept away from all men
(except the elders) in their own private quarters. Land protected by a large perimeter fence.

New Zion: New Commune of The Order. Created after the previous commune was destroyed in the

battle against The Hades Hangmen.

The Order’s Elders (Original Commune): Comprises four men: Gabriel (deceased), Moses

(Deceased), Noah (deceased), Jacob (deceased), Charged with the day-to-day running of the

commune. Second in Command to Prophet David (deceased). Responsible for schooling the Cursed.

New Zion Council Elders: Men of elevated status in New Zion. Appointed by Prophet Cain.

Prophet’s Hand: Position held by Brother Judah (deceased).

Second in command to Prophet Cain. Shares in the running of New Zion and any religious, political

or military decisions concerning The Order.

Disciple Guards: Male members of The Order. Tasked with the protection of the commune lands and

the members of The Order.

Lord’s Sharing: Ritual sexual act performed between male and female members of The Order.
Believed to help the male get steadily closer to the Lord. Performed in mass ceremonies. Narcotics

often used for a transcendental experience. Females are forbidden from experiencing pleasure as

punishment for carrying the original sin of Eve and must perform the act when required as part of

their sisterly duties.

Awakening: Rite of Passage in The Order. On a girl’s eighth birthday, she is to be sexually

‘awakened’ by a commune member or, on special occasions, an Elder.

Sacred Circle: Religious practice exploring the notion of ‘free love’. Sexual intercourse and

behavior with many partners in a public setting.

Sacred Sister: A chosen woman of The Order, tasked with leaving the commune to spread The

Order’s message by sexual means.

The Cursed: Women/Girls in The Order deemed too naturally beautiful and inherently sinful. Live

separately from the rest of commune. Seen as too tempting to men. The Cursed are believed to be
significantly more likely to sway men from the righteous path.

Original Sin: Augustine Christian doctrine that says mankind is born sinful and has an innate urge
to disobey God. Original Sin is the result of Adam and Eve’s disobedience of God when they ate the

forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. In The Order’s doctrines (created by Prophet David), Eve is
blamed for tempting Adam to sin, thus sisters of The Order are seen as born seductresses and

temptresses and must therefore obey men.

Sheol: Old Testament word meaning ‘the pit’ or ‘the grave’ or ‘the Underworld’. Place of the dead.

Glossolalia: Incomprehensible speech displayed by religious believers during an episode of religious

ecstasy. Embracing the Holy Spirit.

Diaspora: The dispersion of people from their original homeland.

Hill of Perdition: Hill on the outskirts of the commune. Used for seclusions of New Zion’s
inhabitants and for punishments.

Devil’s Men: Reference to the Hades Hangmen MC.

Prophet’s Consort: Female chosen by Prophet Cain to aid him sexually. Elevated status in New
Zion.

Prophet’s Head Consort: Appointed by Prophet Cain. Elevated status in New Zion. Closest consort
to the prophet. Sexual partner of choice.

Celestial Meditation: The act of spiritual sexual intercourse. Believed in and practiced by members
of The Order. Reaching a closer connection to God through sexual release.

Repatriation: To bring back a person to his or her country or land. The Repatriation of The Order

involves bringing back all the members of the faith to New Zion from foreign communes.

First Touch: The first act of sexual intercourse with a virginal female.

Hades Hangmen Terminology

Hades Hangmen: One-percenter Outlaw MC. Founded in Austin, Texas, 1969.

Hades: Lord of the Underworld in Greek mythology.

Mother Chapter: First branch of the club. Founding location.

One-percenter: The American Motorbike Association (AMA) were once rumored to have said that
99% of bikers were law-abiding citizens. Bikers who do not abide by AMA rules name themselves

‘one-percenters’ (the remaining non law-abiding 1%). The vast majority of ‘one-percenters’ belong
to Outlaw MC’s.

Cut: Leather vest worn by outlaw bikers. Adorned with patches and artwork displaying the club’s
unique colors.
Patched in: When a new member is approved for full membership.

Church: Club meetings for full patch members. Led by President of the club.

Old Lady: Woman with wife status. Protected by her partner. Status held to be sacrosanct by club

members.

Club Slut: A woman who comes to the clubhouse to engage in casual sexual acts with the club
members.

Bitch: Woman in Biker culture. Term of endearment

Gone/Going to Hades: Slang. Referring to the dying/dead.

Meeting/Gone/Going to the Boatman: Slang. Dying/dead. Referring to ‘Charon’ in Greek

mythology. Charon was the ferryman of the dead, an underworld daimon (Spirit). Transported

departed souls to Hades. The fee for the crossing over the rivers Styx and Acheron to Hades were
coins placed on either the dead’s eyes or mouth at burial. Those who did not pay the fee were left to

wander the shores of Styx for one hundred years.

Snow: Cocaine.

Ice: Crystal Meth.

Smack: Heroin

The Organizational Structure of Hades Hangmen

President (Prez): Leader of the club. Holder of the Gavel, which is symbolic of the absolute power
that the President wields. The Gavel is used to keep order in Church. The word of the President is

law within the club. He takes advice from senior club members. No one challenges the decisions of

the President.

Vice President (VP): Second-in-Command. Executes the orders of the President. Principal

communicator with other chapters of the club. Assumes all responsibilities and duties of the
President in his absence.

Road Captain: Responsible for all club runs. Researches, plans and organizes club runs and ride

outs. Ranking club officer, answering only to President or VP.

Sergeant-at-Arms: Responsible for club security, policing and keeping order at club events. Reports

unseemly behavior to President and VP. Responsible for the safety and protection of the club, its

members and its Prospects.

Treasurer: Keeps records of all income and expenses. Keeps records of all club patches and colors
issued and taken away.

Secretary: Responsible for making and keeping all club records. Must notify members of emergency
meetings.

Prospect: Probationary member of the MC. Goes on runs, but banned from attending Church.

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 Prologue

Tanner

Austin, Texas
Aged 6

“Tanner, can you show Rafael where we keep the pens and pencils?”

I nodded my head and walked to the stationery table. A boy with dark hair
came beside me. I pointed to the pens and pencils like Mrs. Clary said.

“You just take what you want, then bring them back when you’re done.”
Rafael lifted his head. “Thank you.”

I frowned when I heard his accent. It sounded weird.

“Why do you speak like that?”

“Like what?”

He didn’t know he sounded different? I looked around the class. Everyone

had white skin. He had brown. “You look different to all of us as well.”

Before he could answer, Mrs. Clary came over. “Everything okay here,
boys?”

I nodded. So did Rafael. “Tanner, can you be Rafael’s buddy today? Let

him sit with you at lunch and at recess. Show him the ropes here at St.

Peter’s?”
 “Yes, ma’am.”

I led Rafael back to the table I sat at. The other kids didn’t seem to notice

his skin color. My nanny, Mrs. Murray, said that any skin that was darker

than white was a sign of inferiority. I didn’t know what that meant, but

Rafael seemed nice. I didn’t see anything wrong with his skin.
“You like video games?” Rafael asked.

“Yeah.” Rafael smiled.

He spent the whole day with me. When the bell rang for the end of school,

I walked out of the main entrance with Rafael. His papa was waiting for

him outside. He was dark like Rafael too. I’d never really seen anyone like
them before.

Mrs. Murray got out of the car as the three of us walked toward her. She

smiled at Rafael and his papa.

“Rafael tells me Tanner looked after him today,” Rafael’s papa said. “I just

wanted to say thank you. It’s been hard on Rafael leaving Mexico. Your son

made starting a new school easier on him.”

“She’s not my mama,” I said. “Mrs. Murray’s my nanny. I don’t have a

mama.”

Mrs. Murray shook Rafael’s papa’s hand. “Tanner is a good boy. I’m glad

he was a help today.” Mrs. Murray looked back at me. “Come on, Tanner.

We must get you home.”

 I waved at Rafael, then climbed into the back seat. My brother, Beau, was

already in his car seat.

Mrs. Murray leaned over me and belted me in. “Ow!” I said when she

gave my arm a sharp nip. She didn’t say anything.

When we pulled away from the school, I waved at Rafael and his papa.

Beau reached out to give me his toy car. As I took it, Mrs. Murray said,
“Did you like that boy, Tanner?”

“Yeah, he was nice,” I said, then gave Beau back his car. Mrs. Murray was

watching me in the car’s mirror. My stomach flipped over. She looked

angry. “He told me his papa is a doctor. They’ve come from Mexico. His

papa got a job at the hospital downtown.”

Mrs. Murray didn’t say anything to me after that. So I played with Beau

until we got home. I climbed out of the car and went inside. I sat at the

table, had my snack and did my homework. Mrs. Murray disappeared for a

bit, but then came back when I was done. “Go change, Tanner, then stay in

your room. Your father will be coming over tonight when it’s dark.”
“He will?” Excitement built in my chest. I hadn’t seen Papa in a long time.

He worked away. And he was a secret me and Beau had to keep to

ourselves. We had to keep quiet about who he was to us. To keep us safe

from bad people who wouldn’t like us. Even at school I had to pretend I
didn’t know him. People at school thought my name was Tanner Williams.

But I was really an Ayers.

Just like my papa.

I went upstairs to my room and changed. As I did, I noticed there was a

book on my bed. There was a boy on the front. He had dark hair and dark

eyes like Rafael. But his clothes were all torn and dirty. Rafael’s clothes

hadn’t looked like that. He’d looked just like the rest of us.

I dropped the book when the door to my bedroom opened and my papa

stepped through. I smiled and ran to him. But his hands came out to my

chest and stopped me. It hurt and I rubbed my chest. I looked up at him.

Papa walked around me and sat on a chair. I didn’t like the way he glared at

me. It scared me. My papa could be real scary at times. I never liked to

disappoint him or make him angry. He would use his fists on me if I did.

It hurt so much.

“Papa?”

“Mrs. Murray told me you made a new friend today.” I nodded. “She said

that he was from Mexico.”

“Yes, sir.”

Papa got to his feet, then he came toward me. I stood still, not daring to

move. My hands started shaking at my sides. My legs felt like jelly, and
there was a funny feeling in my stomach, like a million butterflies were

flying around.

Suddenly, Papa’s fist hit my cheek. I cried out as I fell to the floor. I

looked up, but Papa only hit me again. I tried to get away, but Papa held on

to my shirt and kicked me in my stomach until I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t

see as tears fell from my eyes. I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why

Papa was hurting me again. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong.

He kicked me and kicked me, until I couldn’t move. I stopped crying.

Then Papa stopped kicking me.

“Get up.”
I sniffed and tried to move, but it hurt too much. My hand was over my

face. I felt something wet under my fingers. I managed to move my hand

back slightly so I could see. My fingertips were red with blood.

“I said get up, boy!” Papa picked me up and made me stand. I curled

forward when the pain in my stomach hurt too much. Papa’s hand grabbed

my hair and he forced my head up. He moved in close, then said in my ear,

“You ever speak to another dirty fucking spic again and I’ll kill you, boy.

You’re white. You’re the future White Prince, and I won’t have you

associating with anyone who is beneath you. Beneath us.” He pushed me

back, and I slumped to the floor. “I don’t know who let him into that school,

but they’ll fucking pay for it. We don’t tolerate anything less than perfection
in that school. We, the good Christian white parents, don’t pay a fucking

fortune to have them let in polluted blood, giving you children bullshit ideas

about equality.” He wiped his hand on my school blazer, right over the

school patch. “You’re my son, Tanner. I love you. But you’re an Ayers. And

it’s about time you knew who we are . . . what you were born to be. That

will be rectified immediately.”

My papa left the room, and the second the door shut, I started to cry. My

body shook. I hurt all over . . . but worse, it was my papa who had hurt me.

He had punched and kicked me.

He’d made me bleed . . . again.

I looked up when I heard the door open again. Mrs. Murray put Beau on

the floor, then left us alone, locking us inside.

Beau stared at me. “Tanner?” he whispered. He was only three. He

crawled over to me. When he saw me crying, he started crying too.

I reached for my little brother and pulled him into my arms. I didn’t like to

see him cry. “It’s okay,” I whispered. But the blood kept falling from my

lip, and Beau cried harder. I put him on my bed and slid up beside him. I

held him close. I didn’t want to see him upset. I had to protect him. I was
his big brother. He was my best friend.

Seeing the book Mrs. Murray had left for me, I asked Beau, “Shall we read

a book? It’ll make you feel better.”

 Beau nodded and started sucking on his thumb. I looked at the picture on

the cover again, then read the title: “Go home, Juan.” I opened the book and

read each page to Beau.

By the end, all I could think of was Rafael. The book had said that anyone

from Mexico was bad. That they wanted to hurt those of us with white skin.

White skin like mine and Beau’s. I sighed. I realized why my papa had been

so angry. Because Rafael was bad. He had come to my school, to America,

to hurt and ruin people with white skin.

I held Beau tighter. Beau was my best friend in the world. Papa never saw

us that much. Mrs. Murray was not that nice. But Beau made me laugh. My
stomach tightened when I thought about Rafael hurting him because he was

jealous of our white skin.

Then I took a deep breath, and I quickly felt better. Because my papa had

said he was going to get him out of the school. And my papa always did
what he said he would do.

Papa would send Rafael back home.

And we’d all be safe.

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 Chapter One

Tanner
Austin, Texas

Present Day . . .

The sand crunched under my feet. Bullets flew around my head. My chest
was tight, ready to snap, as I watched Gull and Arizona take shots to their

heads and drop to the floor.

Both of them fucking dead and done.

A whistle cut through the carnage that was this fucked-up deserted farm. I
glanced up to the barn beside me. AK was signaling to me from his place

on the roof. He sliced his hand over his throat. I got his message—we

needed to draw the fuck back.

“No!”

My gaze snapped to the noise. Viking was scrambling to his feet. When I

saw Flame striding toward the crumbling stables across the clearing I knew
why. The psychotic motherfucker was walking toward where the Klan were

stationed, like he couldn’t be fucking killed, arms stretched wide, firing

bullet after bullet toward my old Klan brothers, who were taking us out

with fucking pinpoint accuracy.

 I aimed my gun, focusing on taking down the assholes that had now turned

their attention to Flame. AK narrowed his eyes and, with his usual sniper

precision, sent bullets flying into the skulls of a few of those who’d

abandoned their cover to come at Flame.

But the fuckers had a sniper too. These weren’t the skinheads the Klan
was known for. The dumb shits everyone always thought of when it came to

white power. No, these were the brothers I’d spent years training up. The

ones who were kept in secret, so the feds and rivals didn’t know the Klan’s

true strength. My father had meticulously recruited these guys. These were

the fuckers who were gonna ignite the surprise wildfire that would spark the
race war. The soldiers no one ever saw coming.

No one but me.

“Flame!” Viking jumped up from his place behind an old tractor and

sprinted toward his fucked-up brother. Rudge jumped into the spot Vike

left. AK tried to give Vike the cover to get to Flame, spraying a blanket of

rapid bullets toward the Klan. But this branch of the Klan were stronger,

smarter, and knew exactly what AK was doing. I tried to help, emptying my
gun of its ammo, signaling to Smiler to give them cover too. But even with

our guns, and AK’s fucking perfect aim, bullets came raging from all

directions. We were outnumbered and out-skilled.

 Like it was in fucking slow motion, I watched Vike dive for Flame. But

the giant red motherfucker was too late. A bullet sank into Flame’s side.

The psycho dropped to the ground, blood pouring from the wound in his

stomach.

“FUCK!” AK screamed, then jumped down off the barn’s roof. Rudge ran

toward Vike and Flame, helping them get the fuck out of the line of fire.
“Pull back!” AK shouted to me and Smiler. “Get the fuck back!”

I stood, firing shots in the direction of the Klan as AK, Rudge, and Vike

dragged Flame from the bullets’ path. Jumping into the truck, I brought the

engine to life. I felt the others put Flame in the back. AK hit the roof.

“Fucking go!”

My pulse raced as I skidded the truck on the road, the Klan’s bullets

sounding like exploding grenades, rocking the chassis as they hit the body

of the truck. Vike, Rudge, and Smiler came roaring behind on their bikes,

all three firing back at the Klan to give us the break we needed to get Flame

home.
Reaching into my cut, I pulled out my cell and hit a number. “Tann?” Tank

said a second later.

“Flame’s down. Klan were at the drop-off point. Came at us strong. Fucker

got himself shot by losing his shit. Get Rider or Edge or who-the-fuck-ever

to the club. He’s been hit in the stomach.” I looked in the rearview mirror to
see AK pressing down on the wound. Flame was fighting the brother off.

His fucking black eyes were crazed as blood spilled out onto the bed of the

truck.
“Flame! For fuck’s sake! Keep the fuck still. I know you don’t want me

touching you, but fucking think of Maddie. I don’t stop the bleeding, you’re

gonna fucking die! You want that? You want to leave Madds alone without

you?”

Flame’s body stilled, but I could see his nostrils flaring with his fast

breaths. Fucker was close to nuclear.

“Tann? Tann, you still there?” Tank’s rushed voice came through my cell.

“Yeah. Fuck, Tank. They came from nowhere. We were making the

exchange and they sprouted up from nowhere and started shooting. Arizona

and Gull are dead. Bullets in their heads and sent to the boatman. They

didn’t have a fucking chance. Better tell their prez.”

“Jesus Christ. How long until you’re here? You need backup?”

“No. We’re only ten minutes out. Get the fuck ready in case these assholes

are on our tail. I’ll let you know if shit goes south.”

I cut off my cell and raced the fuck home. Slash, Smiler’s prospect cousin,

was on the gate. Kero, brother from Arlington, was keeping watch beside

him. We cut through the gate, Vike and Smiler riding in behind. I slammed
the truck to a stop and jumped out.
 “Help me get him down,” AK said.

AK and I lifted Flame from the truck’s bed just as Styx and Ky came

barreling out of the clubhouse door. “Get him inside,” Styx signed, Ky

voicing the prez’s words. We carried Flame through to the clubhouse to the

room we’d had set up as a medical room the minute war had been declared

by the Klan and the cartel. And good thing too, because we’d been getting

hit on all sides for weeks now.

No sooner had we got Flame on the bed than Edge came through with his

medical bag. Brother had been a trauma surgeon in the army before he went

postal for a while, causing him to be put in a nuthouse. When he got out,
fucker decided he liked to use his skills in cutting people up as much as he

liked healing them. He joined the Arkansas chapter and quickly became one

of the most ruthless brothers we had. He had one blue eye, one brown. And

just in case no one realized he was already fucking insane, he dyed his hair

on the side of his blue eye ice white, and left the brown side black. But no

matter how fucked in the head he was—and that level of insanity could

probably even beat Flame’s—brother had been a godsend since he’d been

brought here with his chapter.

He tied his long crazy-ass hair back off his face and leaned over Flame.

Crazier peering down at crazy. Flame, the fucker, quickly acted like the

psycho he was and started thrashing on the bed, trying to reach for his
knives to get at Edge. But Edge was good at what he did and, even more so,

wasn’t fazed by anyone. Not even Styx made this guy pause to watch his

mouth. Even if the crazed fucking smile he wore twenty-four-seven made

you think otherwise. “Stomach wound?” His tongue lapped around his lips.

Fucker seemed to get hard from the sight of people in pain.

“Bullet. Sniper . . .” AK started reeling off shit about Flame’s injury. Rider

came through the door, running his hand over his shaved head. The brother

still wasn’t accepted by half of the club, but he was a good medic, so Styx

allowed him to help when needed. He seemed to work well with Edge,

which was a fucking miracle in itself.

“What’ve we got?” he said to Edge, and the two of them started working

on Flame’s wound, cutting off his clothes. I saw it in Flame’s eyes before he

reacted. Saw the rage in his black gaze before he pushed Edge and Rider

away, going nuts to get off the gurney. AK and Vike tried to hold him down,

but the brother had fucking lost it.

“Need me to smash old Bill into his face? Knock the wanker out?” Rudge

asked, holding up his fist—the fist that frequently knocked his bare-knuckle

fighter opponents on their ass. Or, more often than not, fucking killed them.
Shaking my head, I jumped forward to help keep Flame down. Edge

approached with a needle and syringe, his mismatched eyes lit with

excitement. Suddenly, Maddie and Lil’ Ash crashed through the door.
 “Flame!” Maddie rushed toward her husband, pushing Edge out of the

way. Flame stilled the minute he saw her. “Get off him,” she said to

everyone, her voice tight with warning. I backed up. AK and Vike did the

same. Edge was pulled back by Styx. I got out of the way and just fucking

watched. “Baby,” Maddie said, putting her hand on Flame’s cheek. His

fucking wide eyes set on his wife and didn’t move. His breathing was

heavy, but calmed when Maddie spoke. Tears fell down her cheeks, but her

voice was steady.

“Maddie,” Flame whispered, and she kissed his head.

“Baby, you’re hurt. You need to let Rider and the doctor heal you.” His
eyes were losing life. His blood was seeping onto the bed, and the fucker

was about to pass out. Maddie pulled on his hand, and he refocused on her.
“I am staying with you,” she said. “I am not leaving your side. And I will be

here when you wake up.”

Flame exhaled, then his eyes started to close. Edge and Rider were fucking

rocking on their feet waiting to get to him. I was no doctor, but I didn’t
think his injury would kill him. I’d seen men come back from ten times

worse in the army.

The second Flame was out, Edge and Rider pushed through to him, all
business. Most brothers left the room, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off

Maddie. Because the bitch had told Flame the fucking truth. She stayed
beside her husband, gripping his fingers, running her hand over his head.
She was whispering into his ear, and my chest nearly fucking cracked at the

sight.
My eyes closed, and my hands balled into fists at my side. I’m here, mi

amor. I’m here . . . I will never leave you . . . I could feel Adelita’s hand in
mine. I could feel her finger on my cheek, and I could smell her rose

perfume. Smell it as if it was right beside me. As if she was right beside
me . . .
The sound of the floor creaking made my eyes snap open. A hand came

down on my shoulder. Tank. “You good?”

I nodded my head, then turned. AK and Vike were still behind me,

watching as Edge and Rider worked on Flame. AK had his hand on Ash’s
shoulder. The kid was white. And he wasn’t taking his black eyes off

Flame. Fucking locked on his brother on that gurney.

“Styx is calling church in thirty minutes,” Tank said. He looked at me.

“Let’s get a drink.”

We headed to the door. “Come on, Ash,” I heard AK say. “Leave them to

work on him.” He paused. “He’ll be okay. Flame ain’t leaving you or

Maddie. Not even Hades himself will drag him away.”

“I’m staying.”
“Ash—”
 “I said I’m fucking staying!” he hissed. It was the first time I’d heard
anger like that from the prospect’s mouth. When I looked at him, I saw

fucking death in his black eyes. The kid was hitting the weights every day.
Growing all the damn time. He was turning into a fucking unit. And with

the new flame tattoos that crawled around his neck, and the piercings that
had started taking over his face, he was looking more and more like his

brother. It seemed the kid had more of Flame’s brand of psycho in him than
we’d thought. From the minute I’d met that kid I sensed something dark

inside him. Like it would only take one more fucked-up thing happening in
his life before the real Ash came crawling out. The kid seemed quiet. But

I’d heard of his past. The fucked-up things that were done to him by his and
Flame’s old man. ’Course, that didn’t mean he was automatically fucked

up; people had survived worse and had come out of it okay. But whenever
anything happened to Flame or Maddie, or even AK—people Ash was

close to—something fucking shifted in his dark eyes. Something that was a
million miles away from the sweet kid he was known to be.
Tank slapped AK on the back. “Leave him. It’s his brother. He wants to

stay with Flame and Madds. You know how he is.”

AK squeezed Ash’s shoulder before walking away. Beau’s face flashed in

my mind for a second. But before my chest could fucking crack further and
leave me paralyzed, I let the image go. Tank must have sensed something
was wrong, because he hooked his arm around my neck and said,

“Whiskey, Tann. Now.”

I followed him to the bar, from where I could hear raised voices. When we

walked in, I instantly felt the tension in the room. Arizona and Gull’s prez
had gone, off to get the bodies of his brothers. We made our way to our

chapter. Zane, a prospect and AK’s nephew, was behind the bar. I saw him
take a deep breath of relief when he saw AK walking toward him. AK
leaned over the bar and kissed the kid’s head, telling him without words that

he was okay.
I couldn’t fucking take it. All the fucking family shit, the old-lady shit.

Seeing it every day was like a cancer eating away at me. Fucking showing
me what I didn’t have.

“Zane. Bottle of Beam.” Tank’s voice sounded next to me. I sat on a bar
stool, away from Bull, Hush, and Cowboy. I wasn’t fucking welcome on

that table. Could see Bull and Hush always watching me. The fucking Nazi
they’d been forced to let into their lives. “Ignore it,” Tank said. I closed my

eyes, then opened them again when Tank put a shot of whiskey in front of
me. I knocked it back.

The noise of the bar disappeared around me as Tank asked, “You see any
of them?” I nodded. Tank handed me another shot. “You know them?”

“Yeah.”
 “You train them?”

I paused, letting the guilt seep in. The guilt I deserved. “Yeah.” Tank
placed his hand on my back. I took another shot, waiting for the whiskey to

numb me. I dropped the empty glass to the bar top. “But they got new
tricks.”

Tank didn’t speak for a few seconds. I knew he was judging if I could
fucking handle it. Then he said, “Beau.” It wasn’t a question.

I rubbed at my eyes. I felt tired, but my body never let me sleep. Instead,
in the dark hours, my brain decided to showcase every fucking thing I’d

ever done that I regretted. Screaming at me that, outside of Tank and

Beauty, I had no one. And worse . . . that my brother, my once best friend,

was now running the soldiers I’d been raised to lead. Beau, who had
idolized me so much he’d followed me into the army, only to come out to

find me gone and standing shoulder to shoulder with his enemies.

Beau, who was now using all his army knowhow to fight a war against
me. Fuck, I hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye to him before I got

the fuck out of the Klan for good. Just upped and left him. He never tried to
find me. I’d never heard from him at all since he’d come home.

It was clear he was gonna always be Klan. Believed the ideology still. And
no doubt no longer saw me as his brother, but as a traitor to his race.

He’d hate me now.

 My own brother hated me.
“They’re good,” I said to Tank. “They’re real fucking good.” I took

another shot and checked around us to make sure no one was listening.
They weren’t. Too busy dealing with their own place in this war.
I stared down at the empty shot glass in my hands. “I get that the

Hangmen are strong. Their reach is unrivaled. And they have a lot of ex-
military. Psychos who would kill just for fun. But today . . .” I shook my

head. “Fuck, Tank. For weeks now we’ve been hit by the Klan. And each
time they’ve been organized, mobilized, and trained to do exactly what they

set out to do.” I laughed, no humor. “He’s done it.” Tank looked at me. I
could tell by his face he knew exactly what I was going to say. “My old

man. His dream has been realized. He has a Klan army. One that can
actually do what he wants—start a real fucking war.” I shook my head, guilt

burrowing a hole in my stomach. “And I’m responsible for creating it.”

Tank poured another whiskey. “Destroyer of worlds.”

Tank smirked. “Oppenheimer quotes? You’re getting deep, brother. We’ll

blame the whiskey.”

“It’s true. I created the Klan nuclear bomb, and now I get to sit back and
watch it get dropped.” My throat started to close, but I managed to rasp out,

“Get to watch my brother, my fucking baby brother, be the one to give the
order.”
 “We’ll stop them, Tann.” Tank gestured to the brothers from all the
southern state chapters in the room. “We got men. We got balls.” Tank

pointed to himself, then me. “We got us. We know the Klan. Maybe we just
need to start thinking that way again. To figure out what their plans might

be.” Another shot, the numbness this time starting to spread through my
veins. I rolled my neck, my muscles loosening as the liquor began to do its

job. “And we got your contact, yeah? Still got someone inside who’s
helping?”

“Yeah.” I did. Wade Roberts. His old man was one of Landry’s closest
friends until he died a few years back. Wade was inner circle and wanted

out but, unlike me, lacked the incentive to leave. He’d decided it was better
to bring the Klan down from the inside than to leave and have no fucking

life, a target forever on his head for deserting the cause. Didn’t know if I
could trust him at first. But he’d come through time and time again.
“He didn’t warn me about today though.” And I was gonna find out the
fuck why.

The bottle was almost done when Zane came over to Tank and said that
Ky was calling for the brothers in church. “Church!” Tank shouted when
Zane cut the music. I waited until the brothers had left, then followed in
last. The room was crammed. But everyone had a seat. Styx sat at the front,

quiet as always, but his eyes blazing with fire.

 He had just lifted his hands to speak when Arizona and Gull’s prez burst
through the door. “They’d hung them from trees. Like they’d been

lynched,” he said. His eyes were red and bulging with rage.
I closed my eyes briefly. “String them up,” I said. I smiled as the bodies of
our old Klan brothers started to swing from the trees, the heavy wind
moving them back and forth like pendulums. Charles took out a can of
spray paint and drew on the cross and circle—our white-power symbol.

That would teach the fuckers to try and leave us, to try and get the feds on
our asses. “Leave them,” I ordered. “Let people find them. Let them know
the Klan is not to be fucked with.”
When I opened my eyes, it was to see Tank watching me. He must have

known I was remembering what we used to do . . . because he’d been there

for a lot of them. He’d been standing right beside me.
When the room came back into focus, the brothers were all talking over
one another, fucking pissed. A loud whistle cut through the room. Styx

stood. His eyes bored into every one of us, telling us all to shut the fuck up
or he’d do it for us. When everyone calmed and took their seats, Styx
stayed standing.
His eyes fixed on me. He raised his hands, and Ky spoke for him. “We

need to know all about them. We need to know how they’re organized. The
training they’ve had. What they believe. Fucking everything. We need to
know these fuckers inside and out.”

The room was deadly silent, and one by one every brother looked my way.
“Styx—” Tank went to speak, but I shook my head at my best friend. I had
to do this. I’d seen the looks I’d gotten from the brothers over these past
few weeks. They suspected me. Not so much my own chapter, but the

others. Every time there was an attack, I was asked how they would’ve
known where we’d be. How many would’ve been there. Everything. Tank
never got those looks. He’d paid his dues. Wasn’t coated in Nazi tattoos
anymore, unlike me. As involved as Tank was, he hadn’t been born for the

sole purpose of being the Ku Klux Klan’s heir. Raised to only champion the
white race. In the Ayers household, the air we breathed was Klan and Klan
alone.
I wanted to just cut tail and fucking leave all this shit behind, but I wasn’t
gonna back down. All this? It was my fault. I’d created this. I had to

fucking end it. Least I could do right now was try to save these men.
And I wouldn’t let them see me weak. I’d never fucking do that.
“It’s called the invisible empire,” I said, and could almost smell the
lingering smell of smoke from a burning cross beside me. Could feel the air

charged with the cause, the need for the race war to start. Like my old
brotherhood had once looked to me, dressed in green robes and standing
before the fiery cross, these brothers were looking at me too. But none like I

was a fucking messiah. More like a suspect.

“Invisible because we exist where no one sees. No one knows who we are.
We assimilate into society. We exist among you.”
“Y’all have flags outside your houses and giant swastikas tattooed on your
skin.” Some of the brothers smirked. “Hardly invisible,” Smiler said.

“And they’re the ones you need to worry about the least.” I leaned on the
table. My knuckles cracked from all the tension on my body. “As I’ve said
before to my chapter, the rednecks and the skinheads who fight for fun and
protest outside of town halls aren’t the ones you need to fear. They’re the

show ponies, the distraction. They’re the waving hand, making you look
one way while the real soldiers, the true army of the invisible empire, tear
you down with the other.”
“I don’t fear none of you cunts,” Crow, the New Orleans president, said.

The fucker was smiling, rolling the dice he always held in his hand.
“You should.”
Crow smirked. In fact, all the others did. It made my blood boil. The Klan
—me, my brother, my father, my uncle—had worked all our fucking lives

to make people think the way they did about us. To make us look a joke.
But in secret we’d built the empire of thinking men. Of men and women
who would allow the skinhead jokes to smash down your front door, while

we, the true brotherhood, would sneak in through the window.

“We?” I followed the sound of the question to Hush. Cowboy had his hand
on his friend’s shoulder. “You keep saying we.”
I did? My heart fucking pounded. I hadn’t meant to say we. I didn’t think

of myself as Klan anymore. Not at all.

“Them,” I rasped, feeling my stomach drop. “I meant them.”
Hush never moved his eyes from me. And I knew why. Bastards, shitty
assfeeder members of the Klan, took out his folks. And he’d seen them die.

Watched them burn. “Them,” I said again, all the fight draining from my
body. “They are an organized unit . . .” I trailed off, stopping myself from
telling them how they were so well trained. But what was the fucking
point? Most of these brothers still thought me a Nazi anyway. Saw me as
the White Prince no matter how much I tried to escape it.

“I taught them,” I said and felt Tank tense beside me. He loved this club.
But he’d also kept a shit-ton back from them because of me. Never even
told them who I was until some of my old brotherhood had taken Ky’s old
lady back to the cult we used to work with. I knew he hadn’t wanted me to

tell all these Hangmen that it was me who had crafted them into the men
they were now. The fighters. And that it was Beau who had taken control
where I’d left off and made them unstoppable. “I trained them up, along

with some other ex-forces members. I made them who they are now.”
“Tanner. Think it’s best if you step outta church right now.” I looked at Ky.
He wasn’t speaking for Styx. He was speaking for himself. Styx was just
staring at me.

“Come on, Tann. Let’s go.”

Tank led me out to the hallway. His hand stayed on my shoulder until we
got to my room and I slumped to the bed. My head dropped, and I stared at
the wooden floor. There were years of marks on the grains, showing just

how long this club had been around. How many brothers had passed
through these doors? How many men with fucked-up pasts? Needing the
outlaw life, too messed up to be normal.
“I don’t know how to do it,” I finally said. My voice sounded like a boom

of thunder in the quiet room. I lifted my head to see Tank standing still. He
ran his hand over his shaved head. I caught the shank scar. Remembered
waiting for him outside of the prison when he got out. When he walked
away from the Klan. I’d been so fucking angry at him. Turning on Landry

in prison for some kid he’d roomed with who Landry planned to kill. I was
so fucking mad that he was walking away from what we’d been building.
Couldn’t understand how he’d lost faith in us—the motherfucking Ku Klux
Klan.
 His home. Our home.
“I don’t know how to put that life behind me once and for all . . . it always
finds a way to catch me. No matter how fucking hard I try.”
Tank sighed, his shoulders dropping. I knew how to read my best friend by

now. He was feeling sorry for me. I didn’t want his damn pity. I just needed
to know how to move the fuck on. To be free. “It’s all I know. I was born,
then crafted into the perfect White Prince. Beaten if I dared speak to
someone outside of the white race. You know me, Tank. I was all in. Was

made to not even entertain any other way of thinking.”

“I know.”
“I don’t believe the rhetoric now. I don’t.” Mi amor, forget what you’ve
always been told and just feel . . . Adelita’s husky voice cut through my
brain, and the dead feeling that had resided in my chest immediately

warmed the fuck up. Just thinking about her dark eyes, her long dark
hair . . . her voice, her hands on my chest when I needed her most . . . “I
fucking don’t believe it.”
“You’re a Hangman now. Patched in.”

I nodded. “It’s so fucking hard.” I ran my hand over my stubbled chin. I

squeezed my eyes shut. “And I’m at fucking war with my brother . . . and
with the family the bitch I want more than anything works for. The bitch I
fucking love . . . but haven’t seen in two years.” I sighed, feeling my damn
throat clog. “Don’t even know if she still wants me.” I laughed to disguise
the massive lump in my throat. “Why would she? She’s perfect, smart,
funny. She’s everything. I’m the Klan heir. Or so she probably still thinks.
I’m the fucking dirt on her feet. She’s better off without me.”

Tank came forward and kissed my fucking head. “Tann. I know you don’t
think any of the Klan shit is true anymore—”
“The other brothers think I do,” I interrupted. “Maybe not our chapter. But
you have to see how the others look at me.”

“Fuck ’em.” He sat beside me. “When I came here, it took me a while to
get in with them. They didn’t trust me either. They’ll see in time.”
I turned to face Tank. “I don’t think I could kill him . . . if it came to it.”
“Beau?”

I nodded. “He’s the one leading the Klan now. He’s the one who’s coming
at us.” I sucked in a breath. “Fuck, Tank. He’s the one who needs to be
killed to really fuck up the Klan.”
Tank put his hand on my head in support, but didn’t say shit. What could

he say? He knew it was true. My brother had to die. Tank got to his feet. “I
need to get back to church.” He eyed me weirdly. “You gonna be okay? You
want to stay with me and Beauty for a few days? Get away from this
place?”
 “Nah. Gonna contact my Klan mole and find out what the fuck is going
on.”
“You sure?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Tank left the room, and I went to my computer station at
the corner of the room. I logged in to my email and sent a message to Wade.
What the fuck happened today?
I only had to wait a few minutes before he replied.
Been away, inner-circle shit. Just got back. Didn’t know they were

planning anything. New Dragon took the lead. Ex-Marine. Knows his shit.
I’m here for a while now unless your old man calls me away. I’ll keep my
ear to the ground and give you a heads-up on anything new going down. I
fucked up. Won’t happen again.

I stared at the email and wondered for the millionth time if I was being
played. But Wade’s intel had come through too often for me to doubt him.
Finally, I wrote: Make sure it doesn’t.
The Hangmen were setting Wade up nicely in exchange for the intel.

Money that could get him the fuck out when the time came.
My hands hung, frozen over the keys, before I finally lowered them and
wrote: Beau still in charge?
My fucking heart beat like a damn bass drum in my chest as I waited for

the email to come back.

 Fucker’s hell-bent on destroying y’all. Never thought I’d see the day that
Beau spoke more than a few words or stopped hiding away on his own. Now
he’s like Hitler on crack . . .

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I couldn’t imagine it either. Beau
was a hard bastard. Brought up the same as me. Ruthless. Smart, but much
more reserved. As the second brother, he could afford to be. He was quiet.
A thinker. But so fucking quiet that you never knew what he was planning.

He’s lethal, Tann. Fucking lethal. Whatever had been sleeping inside him
all this time has woken the fuck up.
I read that email over and over, until I pushed my chair back and went to
move away. But as I did, the necklace I kept in my jeans dug into my leg. I

reached into my pocket and pulled out the golden cross. The tarnished gold
barely caught the light. It was old . . .
I want you to have it, mi amor. I want you to keep it. Think of me. Even
when you doubt how much I love you, look at this and know that I am

thinking of you too. Missing you too . . .

I’d managed to stay away from a particular program on my computer for
too long. And like a man in a desert, gasping for water, I let my fingers
move over the keypad and pull up the screen. My hand fisted into a ball and
I closed my eyes. I knew I shouldn’t press the key for “play.” But nothing

was keeping me from her for a minute longer.

 So I fucking pressed play.
The minute my gaze focused on the screen, my chest tightened, then ached

like I’d taken a crowbar to the sternum. Heart pounding, I watched Adelita
walk into the path of the camera. I froze, fucking froze as she turned, book
in hand, and her face came into view. My lips parted and my breath shot out
from my mouth. Adelita smiled at something she was reading, and my hand
balled up again. Her golden cross stabbed into my palm, but I welcomed the

pain. It was the only thing that made me feel like I was alive.
This, and her. Always fucking her.
Her dark hair hung down her back, and her big brown eyes were bright.
Her skin, her body . . . everything was perfection.

I reached out with my free hand and ran my finger down the screen, over
her face. Her lips. Those lips. I could taste her on my tongue, hear her fall
apart as I took that mouth.
“Adelita,” I rasped. She turned at that moment, as though she could hear

me. But she couldn’t. We hadn’t spoken for years; it had been too
dangerous, too risky to her safety. But it didn’t mean she didn’t still own my
dark heart. The bitch had it. Would be the only one who ever did. Without
her I was dead inside, had been for two years without her. Two long fucking

years without having her in my arms. Two years without contact.

Wondering if she was still mine. But knowing, with every new day that
passed, that I was no good for her.

She didn’t need me in her life.

We were at war.
She was beautiful, and she deserved someone who could give her more.
But even knowing that, I couldn’t walk away from her. I was a selfish

prick like that.

I didn’t take my eyes off the screen. I didn’t move even as she moved out
of shot. I watched the dark screen for any sign of movement until it was
dawn . . . her golden cross still in my hand.

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Two

Adelita
Mexico

The tap of a spoon on a champagne glass snapped me from staring,

unseeing, at the roses in the center of the table. I blinked, the landscaped
garden coming back into focus. Lights had been strung up around the

veranda, and all of my papa’s associates sat around the long, extravagant
table. I cast my gaze to Diego, who got to his feet—Diego Medina, my

papa’s second in command, and the boy I had grown up with.

Diego smiled at the associates. He was dressed, as always, in an Armani

suit, his crisp white shirt showcasing his light brown skin. His sky-blue tie

sat perfectly over his chest. Of course my maid had dressed me to match—
they always did, when my father ordered it. I wore a blue silk Armani dress

that fell to my feet. My hair hung down my back in loose waves. I glanced

at my papa’s newest girlfriend. She was dressed to match his tie too.
I fought the need to roll my eyes. We women were sitting as the perfectly

crafted dolls my papa had made us into . . . a fact that grated on me every

single day. Only, Charley Bennett, my best friend, grew as frustrated with

this patriarchal way of life as me. Her father was in partnership with Papa.
Mr. Bennett was the cocaine distributor for California. It was where they

were from. I never got to see Charley nearly as much as I wished. Charley

was sitting beside me in her pale pink dress which suited her blond hair,

gray eyes and sun-kissed skin perfectly.

As the table hushed, Charley reached out and subtly took hold of my hand
under the table for a few seconds before letting go. I cast her a discreet

nervous glance. Her eyes widened in panic. Charley didn’t know about

Tanner. But she knew I was being pushed toward Diego by my father. And

she knew I didn’t love Diego, nor did I want him as more than a friend.

Diego cleared his throat, and I focused my attention back on him. His dark
eyes quickly set on me. I froze, uncomfortable, when he didn’t look away.

He smiled the smile I had seen countless women fall for over the years. The

smile he had been giving me for years, but one I had managed to resist.

I gripped my champagne flute tighter, nerves suddenly accosting my body.

“You all know me around this table. You all know me as Alfonso

Quintana’s right-hand man. You know me as the man who would die for

this family. Our businesses.” He paused, then turned his entire body to face
me. I cast a quick, unsteady glance at my father. He was already watching

me, a small, proud smile on his face.

A fire ignited in my blood and traveled directly to my heart. My heart

raced in frantic, irregular beats when I realized what was happening . . .

when I realized what Diego was about to do.

“What many of you don’t know is the man I am in private.” Diego’s head

tipped to the side slightly as he looked at me adoringly. Lovingly. The same

possessive look he had cast upon me from childhood. The grip on my

champagne glass was the only thing keeping me from falling apart. From

showing my nerves and my fear. But I was Adelita Quintana. I was my

father’s daughter and could never, would never, show my fear to anyone. I

had never let anyone see me vulnerable . . . except one man . . .

“What you haven’t seen are the years gone by where I have loved and

adored a certain woman. A woman I’ve known since we were children. We

were raised together.” He laughed and shook his head. “We played

together . . . and in all that time she never noticed me. Not until six months

ago when she finally agreed to dinner after thousands of refusals. And then

we never looked back.” We had only ever kissed a couple of times, and

even then, each second had felt like the worst kind of torture. I could no

longer evade my papa’s greatest wish and Diego’s persistence. But as I

kissed him that first time, I remembered the last kiss I received . . . one that

I could still feel, imprinted on my lips like a brand. The mouth I could still

taste. The strong arms and body of the man that lay above me . . .

But I’d had to pretend. Because no one knew who had stolen my heart. No

one knew who I had attached my soul to . . . even I didn’t know anymore.
No contact for over two years. No word. I was empty inside. Dead. Only

one man could bring me back to life.

A man I wasn’t sure still wanted me. A man I should never have loved,
and who should never have loved me. But we did love each other . . . so

very much.

Diego took a long breath, then addressed me directly. I fought the lump in

my throat that had built just thinking of Tanner. Of his blue eyes and

tattooed arms. I love you, princess . . . Never forget that, even when I’m

gone from here . . . I’ll only ever protect you . . . I’m gonna find a way for

us to be together . . . someday . . . no matter how long it takes . . .

“Adelita Quintana, I have loved you since I was old enough to understand

what love was.” Diego walked toward me, placing his champagne glass on

the table. He reached into his jacket and brought out a ring box. I stared at

that black velvet box like it was the very thing that would destroy my soul. I

felt Charley’s eyes burning into me, but I couldn’t look at her. I would fall

apart if I did.

Eventually I looked up at Diego. He dropped to his knees, under the

sparkling garden lights and with all my papa’s associates’ eyes fixed on us.

My eyes pricked with tears, but I didn’t worry. The family here would put it

down to emotion from this moment. And they were correct. But they were
tears of sadness and frustration and fear. Not happiness and elation. My
blood had turned cold, and the flicker of joy I occasionally felt had

disappeared completely. I felt nothing but the gutting hole that was Tanner’s

two years of silence and absence.

Diego dropped to his knee and opened the box. The massive diamond he

was offering me glittered in the twinkling lights above. “Adelita Quintana,

would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

The air was sucked from my lungs as Diego’s question washed over me.

The light wind around me seemed to freeze, as if God had pressed the pause

button on the world just to hold me in this moment. My heart beat a rhythm

that instructed me to refuse. To get up and walk out, leaving Diego with the
ring he so proudly offered. But one subtle glance at my papa and I knew I

could never do that. I couldn’t embarrass him that way.

I let go of my champagne glass, to the one object that was keeping me

tethered to the ground. The weight that was keeping me from falling apart.

And I leaned forward, placing both of my hands on Diego’s cheeks. I didn’t

know if he could feel the slight tremble in my touch. If he did, he didn’t say

so. I closed my eyes and willed myself forward. As my lips met his, I felt

nothing. Nothing but a cold and stale brushing of lips. I wouldn’t let my

brain register his taste or his scent. I refused to let anything cast Tanner

from my heart.
 When I pulled back, I whispered, “Yes.” I disguised the tremor in my

voice. I sheltered the guests from the breaking of my heart. I glanced at my

papa again and saw him smiling. He gave me a secret nod. And I knew

what that nod meant: I had done well. My father knew I didn’t want to

marry Diego. Yet he would have planned this with Diego—the son he never

had. I loved my papa, and he loved me. He was the only family I had. I

never crossed him. Even as his daughter, I would never dare. I wasn’t naïve

about our family’s “business”; in fact I made it my mission to understand

every facet of what we did. We were cartel. And my papa was the biggest

cartel boss in the country. This engagement . . . he wouldn’t tolerate being a

humiliation.

Diego slipped the ring on my left hand, then crushed his lips to mine. The

table broke out in applause, and my papa rose to his feet and came toward

us. He shook hands with Diego. “Finally,” he said to his right-hand man.

“The son I always wanted will be joining the family under God.”

He turned to me and wrapped his arms around me. “Adelita,” he

whispered. “I am so happy for you.” He patted my back, telling me without

words that I had not disappointed him. It was both a compliment and a
warning.

Charley put her arms around my neck, appearing the ecstatic best friend

she was expected to be. But her mouth came to my ear so no one could hear
her ask, “Are you okay, Lita?”

“Please . . . not now,” I begged in a whisper, and forced a wide smile at her

as I pulled back from the embrace. “I am very happy, thank you, Charley.”

She played her role to perfection . . . but I saw the sympathy she had for me

in her stormy eyes. Like me, she was the daughter of a crime boss. She and

I had lived parallel lives although we lived in different countries. We were

both pieces in the same game.

It’s why I treasured her as a friend. But right now, I couldn’t be near her. I
had to keep my emotions in check. Charley’s worry for me would make me

crumble.
I was pulled into hug after hug by my father’s guests. On the outside I was

smiling, showing the guests my new diamond ring with pride. But on the
inside . . . on the inside my blood and heart and soul were crying.

Diego slipped his hand into mine as my father moved away to be

congratulated by his guests. “A quick wedding,” my father said loudly, and

eradicated any trace of strength I had left inside me. The mood sobered
when he added, “Given recent events concerning our business, it is best to

have this wedding soon to avoid any complications.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The war. The war with the
motorcycle club from America—the Hades Hangmen. The Quintana cartel

dealt in drugs, mainly cocaine. We had taken a poor rural village and turned
it into an empire. But, as a woman, I was kept at arm’s length from the inner
workings of my father’s operation. Much to my annoyance.

It was why he loved Diego so much. Diego’s papa had been my father’s
closest friend. When he was shot dead by Faron Valdez, a rival cartel when

Diego was only a young boy, my father had taken Diego on as his own.
Unlike Diego, I never attended inner-circle meetings. Relegated to a pretty

showpiece to parade in front of the villagers and workers.

I knew we were at war. I could go nowhere without constant monitoring
and protection. I was an easy target. I didn’t know this motorcycle club, but

from what Carmen, my maid, had told me when she had managed to get
snippets from the other staff, they were as bad an enemy as we could get.

This wasn’t the first time we’d been at war since I’d been old enough to
comprehend what that meant. But each time it was hard. Because people

died. And I feared that, one day, it could be my father . . . or even me. So I
wanted to know everything I could about the Hades Hangmen—their

hierarchy, their structure, their weaknesses, in case one day there was no
one left to protect me from them.

I wanted to be able to protect myself.

The dinner moved from a meeting of casual acquaintances to an

engagement celebration. I couldn’t have said what the food was or what the
dessert tasted like. I was numb, smiling and answering questions when
asked, but certainly not present in spirit. My body was on autopilot as my
mind tried to work out a way to contact Tanner. To tell him everything had

gone wrong. To see if . . . I gasped for air, feeling a pang of pain in my

chest so great it ached . . . to see if he still loved me. If he still wanted me as

much as I wanted him.

To tell him our time was up if we were to ever be together.

And my heart . . . my heart was shredding, each slice of flesh that fell
away causing me to suck in a tight breath as the agony took hold of my

entire body. All the time I feared I was falling apart, Diego never let go of
my hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss as he talked to the cartel men over

dinner.
As with my father, Diego wasn’t a man to be crossed. I’d heard the

rumors, And Charley had informed me of some home truths. Some

activities he got up to in California when he was there on “family business”.

Of what he’d done to past lovers. The pain I’d heard he had caused them.
The roughness with which he’d handled them. He was an aggressive man.
To me, he had only ever been sweet. But he was feared by the men at this

table. Even my father, due to his age, wanted to keep Diego close. The
alternative wouldn’t be worth risking.

If I was honest with myself . . . I feared him too. I feared what would
happen if I refused him. It didn’t bear thinking about.
 I had always sensed something unstable within him. I had always kept him

at arm’s length. But now I was firmly in his embrace . . . and I had to find a
way to survive the suffocation.

Diego had been bold in his move to propose to me. It was his greatest play.
He was as close as one could get to my father. My hand in marriage would

firmly lock him in place. My father wasn’t naïve to this. Papa knew how
Diego had always wanted me. And to secure Diego’s unwavering loyalty,
he’d thrown me to the wolves. I didn’t know how to get out of this. I didn’t

know how to break off this engagement. I didn’t know where Tanner even
was. I knew my father and Diego were still working with the Klan. But they

no longer came to our house. All those months of being with Tanner, being
able to have him in my bed, by my side, had long gone.

Ice flooded my veins when I thought of the inevitable. The day when the
Klan and the cartel would go to war against each other. This pact they had

entered into wouldn’t last—couldn’t last. My enemy’s enemy is my friend.

Once the Hangmen were dealt with, and when the contract they had

entered into expired . . . war would ensue. It would be cartel against Klan.
A fight to be the strongest power in the crime underworld. My stomach

flipped at the thought. At the knowledge that the man I loved and my
family, the only people I cared about in this world, would be intent on

killing each other.

 “Let me walk you to your suite,” Diego said as he got up from the table.

He guided me up with his hand, and I let him lead me away. My father
kissed my free hand as I passed. I smiled, but only for the sake of keeping

up appearances.
As we approached the rooms I had as my own on my papa’s estate,

Diego’s hand tightened in mine. He hurried us through the hallways, my

father’s men stationed along the way for our protection. When we entered

my suite, Diego spun me around and pushed me back against the wall. My
heart raced. His eyes were wide and he licked his lips. He took hold of both

my wrists and slowly raised them above my head. He moved in to my lips,

but I turned my head away at the last minute. “Diego,” I whispered,

clenching my eyes shut as I gathered my lost breath. “Not yet . . .”

His forehead fell against mine. He was pressed against me; his scent

infused the air around us and I could smell the red wine on his breath. He
had drunk a lot. “Adelita,” he murmured, frustrated. “Cariño . . .” I winced
at the term of endearment. I didn’t want to be his cariño. I didn’t want to be

anything to him. He moved one of his hands from my wrists and slid it
down my hair, over my cheek, and down to my chest. I whimpered when he

palmed my breast.
“Diego—”

“Shh.” His hand squeezed at the flesh until it bordered on painful.

 “You’re hurting me.”
He smiled, and it wasn’t a smile I had ever received from him before. His

attention on me had always been sweet, endearing . . . This smile was cold
and cruel. The alcohol had clearly lowered his control over the dangerous
man inside. He released my breast, but then his hand started traveling south.

My thighs clenched together when his fingers passed over my torso. But it
was no use trying to stop him. He was bigger and stronger than me. Diego

was the most determined man I’d ever met.

“You’re a cocktease, cariño. Always have been.” I shook my head, but he

shushed me again, the sound harsh and sharp. “A face made by God to
torment we who walk with the devil.” His hand cupped me between my

legs. I made a garbled sound and tried to push him off, but he didn’t move. I
held my breath as his fingers ran along my panties. I felt him getting hard

against my leg. My bottom lip started to shake in anger. But I wouldn’t cry.
I wouldn’t let him see me cry. Men like Diego got off on seeing women cry.

Diego kissed up my neck and over my cheek. “But I like that you’re
untouched. I like that you’re a virgin and I get to be the first cock your

pussy will ever have.” He groaned. “The first and last.”

I sucked in a breath. It shook. I stopped breathing so he couldn’t tell he’d

unnerved me. That his touch repulsed me. I shut my eyes as he worked his
hand under my panties. I needed to shut him out. To take myself away from
this moment.

Only one face came to mind, taking me back to that first day . . .
“Papa?”

“Adelita, is that you? Come here, princesa.” I walked into my father’s

office. I had just arrived back from shopping with Carmen and wanted to

show him the tie I had bought for him to go with his new suit. But when I
walked into the room, a strange man was sitting at my father’s desk. That

wasn’t new. He always had businessmen coming in and out.

“I didn’t realize you had company, Papa. I’ll leave you alone.” I went to

turn, but I crashed into someone behind me. Strong hands steadied me, then
immediately let me go. When I looked up, the biggest man I had ever seen

was before me, dressed in a white shirt that clung to his muscled body, and
blue jeans with black boots. He had tattoos all over his skin, and a shaved
head. The tattoos crept up to his neck. It took me a minute to realize what
the tattoos were. But their symbology quickly became apparent.

Nazi tattoos.
A stern look of superiority crossed his face. He folded his arms across his
chest as he looked down at me.
“Adelita?” My papa’s voice made me turn. “These are our guests. They

will be staying in the guest apartments while we conduct some business

over the coming months. I expect you to be courteous to them when they are
in our household.”

My skin prickled feeling the man’s eyes on me from behind. “This is

William and Tanner Ayers. Father and son, from Texas.” I heard the tone in
my father’s voice. They were here for business, but he didn’t trust them. If
they were staying in the guest apartments and not in a nearby hotel it was
so my father’s men could keep an eye on them, not because my father had a

sudden need to play host. They were Ku Klux Klan. I had read the name on
Tanner’s arm. The reason for my father’s distrust was obvious. The Klan
and Nazis hated anyone who wasn’t white.
“You will need to show Tanner around soon, while his father and I talk

business.”
My eyes widened. “Can’t Diego—?”
“Diego has gone away for a while. He will be away during most of their
stay. He’ll be back toward the end.” On “family business,” no doubt.

Something I wasn’t allowed to know anything about.

A warning flashed in my papa’s eyes. “It would be my pleasure,” I said,
and gave Señor Ayers a forced smile. I turned, and I was immediately
caught in Tanner Ayers’s harsh ice-blue stare. I could almost see the instant

dislike for me dripping off him waves.

 Tanner Ayers . . . The White Prince of the Ku Klux Klan. And me, Adelita
Quintana, princesa of the Quintana cartel . . . this would be interesting . . .

“You’ll be so tight,” Diego said, cutting through the memory of that fated
meeting. “And we’ll be married soon . . .” He sucked in a breath. “I’ll get to
watch you bleed for me, cariño.”
For once, I let a slither of fear strike me. Because he wouldn’t. I had

already given myself to a man—only one. Diego could never find that out.
He suddenly stopped, moved his hand from between my legs, then
smacked his hand off the wall above me. “But not yet,” he said tightly. “As
much as it frustrates me not to be inside you, I’m going to wait until we are

married. I want this to be right, with you.” His hand dropped to my cheek
and stroked it gently. “I’ve wanted you for too long not to have you the way
you’re meant to be taken.”
Diego crushed his mouth to mine so hard it was almost bruising. He
quickly pulled away, then turned and moved for the door. “If I don’t leave

now, I’ll fuck you, cariño. I’ll take you to your bed and I’ll fuck you into
the mattress.” His lip flicked up in amusement. “And as much as he loves
me, I’m sure your father would have me killed for deflowering his little girl
before she’s wed. He’s worked incredibly hard to keep you pure.”

He left, the door slamming behind him. I listened to twenty-six footsteps

echoing on the marble floor of the hallway before I even dared breathe. I
closed my eyes, but I couldn’t erase the feel of him from my body, his scent

from my nose, or the taste of him from my mouth. I ran to the bathroom. I
brushed my teeth so hard that the water ran red with the blood from my
gums.
Turning off the faucet, I looked up at myself in the mirror. My eyeliner—
which I always ensured looked perfect—was smeared. My red lipstick was

smudged off my lips.

I stared at the woman before me. The woman who was two years without
the one she loved. The woman who no longer looked like the innocent girl
Tanner Ayers fell in love with. The woman who wasn’t that girl. Just the

thought of Tanner made me feel sick. The thought of how his blue eyes
would soften when they looked upon me. How he never smiled, but would,
just a fraction, for me.
I washed my face until there wasn’t a scrap of makeup left on it. I blinked

as I looked at my reflection in the mirror again . . . then I let the tears fall.
My shoulders shook as the tears fell harder, the sobs racking my body and
loosening my grip on the composure I held so tightly onto. I dropped my
head away from my reflection. I wouldn’t see myself cry. I wouldn’t give

in. I had made it this far. I could make it further . . . I could . . . I could . . . I
must . . .
 I stood, gripping the porcelain of the sink until all the tears within me had

been shed. I heard the sound of footsteps too late to pull myself together.
My papa suddenly appeared in the doorway. Taking a deep breath, I
straightened and looked him in the eye. I waited for him to speak. His suit
was perfect, as usual, not a wrinkle to be seen in the fabric. Not a hair out of

place.
“Princesa,” he said, his voice low. His head tipped to the side in sympathy
—well, as much sympathy as I knew he would have for me in this situation.
“I’m fine.” I wiped my tears and cleared my throat. My shoulders

straightened and I took a deep breath.

Papa nodded, and gestured for me to follow him out into the sitting area of
my suite. I sat on the chair opposite him, smoothed down the silk of my
dress, then raised my head high. Papa sat back, relaxed, but watching me
closely.

“You could do worse than Diego, princesa.” Papa folded his hands
together and placed them on his lap.
“I don’t love him,” I said, trying my hardest not to lose my composure.
My father didn’t like, in his words, hysterical women. Women who let

emotions rule their actions. It was why he hadn’t a single woman working
for him. Why—as much as he loved me—he never truly let me in.
Simply put, Papa believed women were to know their place—below men.
 My papa threw up his hands. But it was there, the flash of pain that always

burst in his dark eyes when I mentioned love. My mama had died in
childbirth, and her death had ruined my papa. Carmen had told me that
when my mama was alive, the men around him had said he was happy.
Ruthless, but happy with my mama. When she died, they said that the

kindness and the friendliness he possessed died too. Only I, his daughter,
saw glimpses of the man he had once been. It was why I could never hate
him for the way he sometimes treated me. I was the reason my mama was
taken from him. I was the reason he suffered.

I was the only family he had.

I had never even seen a picture of my mama. My papa found it too hard to
keep them around. I didn’t want to cause him pain, so I quickly learned as a
child never to ask to see one. Though Carmen said she was the most

beautiful woman she had ever seen. Long dark hair, deep chocolate eyes,
pretty and strong.
She told me I looked just like her.
“What does love have to do with anything?” Papa said, and the last flicker

of hope that he would stop this engagement faded from my heart. Papa
glanced out of the window. His mind drifted out of this room and to
somewhere else. “It’s better not to love too hard, princesa.” I felt my bottom
lip tremble for the pain he was in. His, and my own. Because there was
some truth to his words. The love I felt for Tanner . . . Sometimes, in my
darkest of moments, I wondered if this level of love, this soul-shattering
kind of possession, was worth all the pain and the heartache.
It was like being tethered to the ground by an unyielding rope, when all

you wanted to do was let go and float away.

Papa cleared his throat and faced me with a tight smile. He reached across
the table for my hand. His thumb ran over the ring that Diego had placed on
my finger only a few hours ago. “He is a good man. Strong. A leader. He

will look after you when I am no longer here to do so.” I dropped my eyes,
trying to rein in my anger. I did not need a man to look after me. “He has
loved you since you were born, princesa.” Papa shook his head fondly. “I
remember the day he first saw you. He was smitten. Came to see you every
day. He followed you around, hanging off your every word.” Papa showed a

hint of smile. It made me smile too.

Papa patted my hand. “You may not love him yet, Adelita. But you will.”
Papa got up and kissed my head. “You’re a good daughter. Strong.
Innocent, and you know your duty.” I understood the subtext. You will

marry Diego regardless of your lack of feelings toward him. My word is

law. “The wedding will be in three weeks.”
Shock rendered me speechless. I was paralyzed, unable to move as Papa
walked out of my suite. Carmen was through in seconds. “Adelita,” she said
quietly. I jumped to my feet before she reached me. I couldn’t let her touch
me. I couldn’t let her comfort me. I would fall apart. I would crumble . . .
“I’m going to Father Reyes for confession.” I rushed to my closet and
changed. I passed Carmen without speaking and went out to the front of the

hacienda. A car was waiting for me; Carmen must have called ahead.
“Templo de Santa Maria,” I instructed the driver. He pulled away, and I
pulled my scarf over my face to stop him seeing the tears. We passed
through the streets, and too many memories came at me at once. I could no

longer see my home without seeing Tanner. I could no longer breathe

without breathing in Tanner. I could no longer bleed without bleeding for
Tanner.
Each heartbeat was his as well as my own.

When we pulled up to the small chapel, I let the driver open the door and
escort me inside. Candles were still lit, illuminating the dark room. I
reached out to the old stone walls and smiled. I always felt safer here. At
peace.

Free.
I let the rows of candles lead me along the aisle and down the stairs until I
reached the place I knew Luis would be. As always, he was hunched over
his books. “Adelita?” I’d shocked him. He glanced at the clock on his wall.
“You’re here late.”
 I checked the driver had stayed by the main door. When I faced Luis, my
only true friend left here in Mexico, from childhood, I let my eyes fill with
water and held up my hand, showing the ring. Luis’s eyes fell in sympathy,

and his face paled somewhat. “Adelita,” he whispered. I shook my head.

Luis was the one person I could let my guard down with. The only one who
truly knew the real me, and . . .
“Tanner,” I whispered, and my voice caught on a pained breath. “Luis . . .
what about Tanner?”

Luis rushed over to me and took me in his arms. I cried into his shoulder,
hearing him lock the door behind us. Luis let me cry until my legs felt weak
and all the energy had drained from my body.
Luis and I sat on his small couch. He held my hand, just like he had done,

years ago, when I’d fallen for the prince of the Ku Klux Klan . . . when
Tanner had had to leave me . . . and in the months, then years, when I didn’t
hear from him. When he didn’t return.
“Diego was always determined,” Luis eventually said. He sighed and

faced me. I knew my face would look tired and worn. Luis squeezed my
hand tighter. “When?”
“Three weeks,” I said, my voice broken with sadness. I laughed without
humor. “I’m sure you’ll be told come morning.” Luis was the priest my

family used—the entire cartel used. My father had helped him achieve his
goal of becoming a priest—of course, having someone loyal and connected
to the family worked in our favor. But Luis was also my friend. And the
only person who knew about Tanner and me. I had told him in confession.

Luis nodded. “And you still haven’t heard from Tanner?”

“No.”
Luis ran his hand over his face. “I . . . I don’t know how to stop this for
you, Lita. I have no idea how to make this go away.”

“Refuse,” I said, joking, but wishing it could be true. “Refuse to marry

us.”
He leaned against me. “I wish I could.”
“I love him,” I said. The only other sound in the room besides our

breathing was the small clock on the wall. “I still love him, Luis. So damn
much.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I wish I could stop, but I don’t know
how.” My vision blurred with tears. “I just wish I could see him. I wish I
could talk to him. Hold his hand . . . see what he looks like now.” I smiled.

“If he has more tattoos. If he has grown out his hair.” My chest ached with
the pain of his absence. “If he looks older . . . if he still rarely smiles . . .”
“Lita—”
“I know it’s futile, Luis. I know I am to marry Diego. And I know the life I
am bound to.” I faced Luis. “I just needed to speak to someone who knows

about us.” I glanced at the seat beside me. And I could see the ghost of
Tanner beside me, his hand holding mine. He was so clear to me he could
have been sitting here with me only yesterday. Memories faded over time,

yet my memories of Tanner never did. They were vibrant and rich in color.
Just as alive as he was to my heart.
“It was always a doomed love, Lita,” Luis said. I knew he wasn’t being
harsh. It was true. “The heir of the Ku Klux Klan and the Quintana cartel
princesa. In every way possible you were not meant to fall in love.”

“I fell in love with his soul, Luis. Not his skin color or the family he was
raised in. And he fell for mine.” I exhaled a long breath. “In a perfect world,
we would be together.”
“Lita, you and I know that this life, the life we belong to . . . it is far from

perfect. The world he is from . . .” Luis paused, seemingly struggling for

words. “I mean, he didn’t like you at first, simply because you’re Mexican.
Strongly disliked you, Adelita.”
“I know.” It was true. But hate eventually turned to love.

“It’s been over two years, Lita . . .” Luis’s voice drifted to nothing in the
stale room. “He hasn’t returned—”
“It’s not safe,” I tried to argue, but I felt the seeds of doubt start to plant in
my stomach.

“No word, Lita. The Klan and your family are still as close as ever. And
now they are at war together.”
 “I can’t find anything out.” I thought back to all of the times I’d tried to
listen in on my father’s meetings with the Klan representatives. Of the times

I’d listened to Diego’s phone calls. Begged my father to let me in, to no

avail. I wiped a stray tear that had fallen from my eye. “But he is never
mentioned.”
“Maybe he’s moved on . . .”

“We made a promise.” My words were steel. “We made a vow to one
another. I will not let that go. I won’t . . . can’t.”
“Two years ago, Lita. In this life, the life you’re in—that he’s in—that’s a
very long time.” I knew Luis was making sense. But just the thought of

never seeing Tanner again . . . never having him hold my hand and kiss my
mouth, never having him above me, making love to me. Him inside me . . .
“I don’t know how to live this life without the hope of him in my heart. The
hope of us, the hope of what, together, we could be.”

With every day that passed in those two years, that bright light of hope had
dimmed to a whispered flicker of a dying star. There had been no word. No
fight to be beside me.
He hadn’t come for me like he’d promised.
“Lita, I hate to say this, but . . . I think it’s time that you move on.” I

flinched as if he’d struck me. Luis’s hand gripped mine tighter. “Listen to
me, Lita. You deserve to be happy.”
 “I can never be happy with Diego.” My voice was rock-solid with

conviction.
“You aren’t happy waiting for Tanner either.” Luis paused for a tense
second, then said, “You don’t live, Lita; you exist. That’s no life to have.”
Luis sighed. “He may have moved on. He may have found someone else.
Someone who doesn’t stand against everything he is, was raised to be.”

Luis rubbed his head as if he had a headache. “He is to inherit the Klan in
Texas. You are Quintana’s daughter. How will your love ever work? He
can’t have you as his in his world. And you certainly cannot have him in
yours. Your father would kill him on the spot.”

My free hand moved over my sternum, rubbing the sudden knot that made
it difficult to breathe. I glanced at Luis’s hand in mine. The darker skin. The
proof of our heritage. My skin was slightly lighter than his, almond to his
tan, but it was there. A Latina’s tone. We were Mexican. I wondered if

Tanner had held another’s hand since he’d left my bed. Wondered if he’d
held a hand that matched his pale skin. Matched the WASP blood that
flowed thickly in his veins . . .
Wondered if he once again thought of our entwined mixed-hued fingers as

repulsive. Wrong.
Did he see me as a moment of weakness? See our love as a betrayal of his
race?
 The very thought made my soul cry. Because I could never view him in

such a way.
“Seeing you like this—so broken, hopeful, but at the same time
completely haunted—it makes me glad I’m married to the church. I’ve
always observed that love can destroy as well as heal. It all depends on luck

and circumstance.” Luis didn’t laugh. He wasn’t making a joke. He was

serious.

I thought he had a point. This pain that lived within me, the dark side of

love that spread like cancer within my every cell, at times, made it
impossible to breathe.

Nothing was said after that. I just sat in silence with my friend, comforted

to be in the company of someone who knew it was Tanner Ayers that I

loved and kept in my heart. Even if it was no longer returned. With Luis

there was no need to hide. I was so tired of hiding.

When I got home, I crawled into bed. But as heavy as my lids were, sleep

didn’t find me. I heard the footsteps of my father’s men patrolling outside

my windows. I heard the crickets in the grass outside singing their

nighttime song.

Rolling to my side, I stared at the box I kept locked. I stared at it, willing
myself not to open it. I hadn’t let myself open it in over a year. But tonight,

with Luis’s words playing havoc with my mind, I couldn’t resist. I reached
over and opened the box. The small piece of white fabric immediately

stared up at me. I swallowed back the lump in my throat and gently picked

it up. My hands shook as the tiny bit of cotton fell into my palm. The scrap
of torn t-shirt felt as heavy as the most precious gold in my hand.

I closed my eyes and could still feel Tanner on top of me. I felt his rough
hand take hold of mine. Opening my eyes, I slid off the extravagant ring

Diego had placed on my finger and let it drop to the comforter. Then I slid

on the small makeshift ring Tanner had made me years ago. It sat on my
finger, the cotton’s frayed edges as stunning as diamonds to me. Curling my

hand, I brought it to my nose and inhaled. As the faint notes of Tanner’s

cologne drifted into my nostrils, it suddenly didn’t matter how much time

had passed since I had seen him. In this moment he was here beside me.

And in my heart, he occupied every possible bit of space.

I kept my eyes closed, needing to keep him here just a while longer. But

eventually I had to accept that he wasn’t. Taking a deep breath, ignoring the

deepening fissure that was cracking my heart, I carefully removed the

cotton ring and placed it back in the box. I closed the lid, yet minutes later I

found myself still staring at the box. No closer to sleep, I ran my fingers
over the pillow that I now only ever saw as Tanner’s. If I closed my eyes, I

could still feel his warmth.

 But feeling him slipping from my grasp as quickly as sand in a timer, I
needed to keep him close. Needed him to be alive again in my mind.

Lying back in bed, I replayed the story I held captured in my heart—our

story. And I relived every moment—the good, the bad, and the impossibly,
tragically beautiful . . .

“Adela, I need you to show Tanner around.” My heart started thudding as

my father’s request sank in.

“You can’t be serious,” I whispered. I made sure no one was close by.

“They’re Klan, Papa. They hate us for our skin color alone. I do not want
to spend time with men like that. Anyone like that.”

Papa stepped closer. “We need them for business, Adela. Nothing more

than that.” His hand came down on my shoulder. “We don’t have to like one
another to do business. Together we can make a lot of money. That’s all

there is to it.”
“Why me?”

“Diego is gone, and I need the son distracted. I have no time to wonder

what to do with the heir while this deal is hashed out. I want a swift
contract secured. William Ayers brought his son here as protection, as a

witness to the fact we met. But, for whatever reason, he wants Tanner

excluded from this deal—not how I’d operate with my second, but to each
their own. He wants to keep the nature of our business to himself.” He

shrugged. “I care not why. I just want it done with.”

“You never involve me in business.” I made sure I pronounced each of

those words clearly. He knew I was bitter about that.

My father’s hand pressed harder on my shoulder. I made sure I didn’t

wince. “No one else is here to distract him. This deal is very important, and

therefore I won’t have any old plebian watching over the heir. He will not

accept one of my men watching him anyway. He will view it as aggressive

on our part. An insult to his whiteness.” My father flicked his hand

dismissively. “I’ll play into his ideology on this occasion. I don’t really care

if he thinks we are rats or whatever derogatory label the Nazis have for us
Mexicans. I trust you. You’re a good girl, smart and won’t be affected by his

disapproval. You understand how to play this game.” Papa kissed my cheek.
“You’re my daughter. And you will do this for me.” He smiled. “For the

business.”

My teeth gritted together in annoyance, but I nodded. “How long will he

be here?”

“As long as it takes.” Papa walked off to his office, shutting the door

tightly behind him. I slumped down to a nearby chair. Minutes passed, then
I saw Tanner walk by the window. He was wearing jeans, boots, and a white

shirt. He was huge, tall, his bulging arm and neck muscles wrapped in
masses of black ink. His blue eyes were assessing as he leaned against the

wall and lit up a smoke.

My hands had gripped the chair so tightly they ached when I eventually

stood up. Smoothing my hand through my long dark hair, I exited the
hallway into the courtyard. Tanner’s eyes immediately slammed to mine, to

my red, floral summer dress. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me.

The expression of superiority on his face made my stomach ignite with

anger—chin tilted high and jaw tight. The way he stood like he was above

everyone in this hacienda made my blood boil. He was on Quintana

territory. We were not people to look down on. I was not someone to be
looked down upon.

Tilting my chin high too, I walked confidently in his direction, stopping

before him. Tanner pulled his cigarette from his mouth and blew out the

smoke—it clouded me in white.

“Do you have one for me?” I laid on my accent thickly as the English
words dripped off my tongue.

Tanner’s eyes fell to my lips. My lipstick was scarlet red. When his gaze
didn’t move from my mouth, I licked along the seam. Tanner ripped his eyes

away, and his jaw clenched so hard I feared it might break the bone.

Looking over my head, the White Prince pulled a packet of cigarettes from
his jeans pocket. He held out the packet, pushing a cigarette out of the
opening. I took the smoke and brought it toward my lips. “Light?”

Tanner exhaled quickly though his nose, yet he still didn’t speak. I was

unsure he could, he’d been that silent both times I’d met him. He pulled out
a lighter, and I leaned in close to the flame. As I inched my body closer to

Tanner’s, I saw him tense so much he looked like a statue.

I imagined what slights he was throwing toward me in his head. But

surprising me, I caught the slight flaring of his eyes as he watched me suck

in the first drag of the cigarette.

This, I knew, I could work with.

“So?” I said, as Tanner avoided my stare by busying himself putting the

packet back in his pocket. “Papa wants me to show you around. Keep you
company while our fathers do business.” Tanner leaned back against the

stone wall. His eyes darted along the roof, to the men my father kept around

at all times to protect us. Heavily armed men. I followed his attention.
“Papa’s men. They won’t bother us as long as you can play nice with us

Mexicanos.” I patted his broad chest, the hard planes of his muscles like
granite under my palm. Tanner’s hand thrust out and took hold of my wrist.

I gasped in shock at his iron-tight grip.

Tanner leaned in close, so that only I would hear him speak. “I don’t know
what the fuck you’re playing at, bitch, but keep your fucking hands off me.”

He came even closer. “I might have to fall in line with my old man and
follow this bullshit of having to be attached to you while I’m here. But don’t

think for a second you’ll affect me.”

Tanner released my wrist and, like nothing had happened, resumed

smoking his cigarette. My heart was pounding in my chest. But I was

Alfonso Quintana’s daughter. I wouldn’t be rattled by this asshole.

Stepping closer to him again, showing him I wasn’t some little woman he

could push around, I said, “Like you, I’m here because my papa asked me
to be.” I lifted my hand and ran my finger down the front of his wife-beater.

I could hear his breathing stutter. “But we all must do our duty, Tanner

Ayers.” I looked back at the many guards stationed around the courtyard.
Then to Vincente, my personal guard and Diego’s best friend. His eyes were

on me, keeping me safe. He’d be watching me in Diego’s absence. Diego

had a habit of being overprotective of me.

I smiled, knowing that Vincente couldn’t tell from where he stood that I

was touching Tanner, or that Tanner had touched me. I faced Tanner again,
pretending we were engaging in conversation. “You’ll do well to remember

you are in my country, my home.” I smiled and watched as his eyes fell

back to my lips. When his angry eyes darted back to meet mine, I said
quietly, “Here, I am the princess, White Prince. These are my people, and

they will not tolerate you stepping out of line. And neither will I.”
 I moved back and took another drag of my cigarette. As I blew out the
smoke in his face and dropped the lipstick-stained butt to the floor, I said,

“Come, White Prince. I’ll give you the grand Quintana tour.”
I could hear his reluctant footsteps fall into line behind me. And I could

also hear my heartbeat echo loudly in my ears.

It was beating way too fast.

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Three

Tanner

“Do not fuck this up for us. We need this deal. If we are to realize the future
we’ve worked all these years to make a reality, we need cash. A lot of it.

This deal with Quintana can give us that. Do as he says when we’re there.
And don’t you fucking dare fuck this up for me.”

My father’s words circled in my head as Adelita Quintana walked ahead of

me through the grounds. I gripped my smoke so hard that I crushed the

tobacco in my grip. Curling my lip, I threw it to the floor. As Adelita turned

a corner, smiling wide at some suited-up guard I could easily snap in two, I

told myself to calm the fuck down. Like she’d touched me with fire, I could

still feel the touch of her hand on my chest.

Her dress fell to mid-thigh, showing her long legs. Her almost-black hair

fell down her back. As if she could hear my thoughts, she turned to look at

me over her shoulder and gave me a wide smile, her whore-red painted lips
making her look like a cheap slut.

And her smile at me was completely fake, I was sure.

My stomach tightened at the sight of that fucking smile. She thought

herself so important. But I knew better. I knew where we all stood in life.
 The dick she’d been talking to suddenly got in my path. I stopped dead,

towering over the douche with slicked-back black hair and a black suit. He

glared at me, then dropped his eyes and ran them down my bare arms. My

lip lifted in amusement as he studied each one of my tattoos. That’s right,

bitch, I thought. You’re looking at the fucking future.

“Vincente,” Quintana’s daughter said. Her hand went to the dick’s arm.

She said something to him in Spanish I didn’t understand. Her nails were

long and painted red too. Did this bitch not know how to wear any other

color?

The guard stepped back, but not without showing me the gun he was
packing in his holster. I gritted my teeth, pissed off at these fuckers even

more—if that was possible. Quintana made me give up my guns at the door.

Said it would show trust. The cocksucker just wanted to see us submit. I

knew the truth. He was scared of us. Scared of what we were capable of.

But my father had made me lose my weapons. Told me we had to choose

our battles if we were to win the upcoming race war. Use our enemies until

we crush them in the streets.

“Come,” Adelita said to me and waved her hand. She turned down a

graveled path that led to a massive garden. There were flowers and bushes

everywhere. Hearing footsteps behind me, I looked back. The guard—

Vincente—was following us. He kept far enough back that he was out of

earshot, but I didn’t like that fucker being anywhere near me.

“So, Tanner Ayers.” Adelita’s heavily accented voice pulled my attention

back to her. She smiled at me, but I saw straight through that smile. She

disliked me as much as I disliked her.

Good. At least we both knew where we stood.

I couldn’t get my eyes off her. Her lips were too full and her teeth were too

white. Her eyelashes were too long and that red lipstick was pissing me the

fuck off.

“How are you enjoying my lovely country?” I glared at her, refusing to

play her fucking game. Adelita ran her hand over the leaves from a low-

hanging tree branch. She smiled wider.

The bitch was enjoying this.

She stopped. So did I. She walked to me and stood her ground—too close

to me, again. All I could smell was her shitty perfume—it was too strong,

fucking darting up my nose. It smelled of flowers and fruit and other crap
that I’d never be able to clear my nose of. Her too-big brown eyes locked on

mine. They were so dark you could barely see the pupil. “Cat clawed your

lips?” she said and tipped her head to the side.

Annoyance sliced through me. I leaned down, got right in her face. “It’s

‘cat got your tongue.’” Her hair blew past my face and touched the stubble
on my cheek. It smelled of coconut. My teeth gritted together. “If you’re

gonna try to speak English, get it right.”

“I got it wrong?” Her smile dropped, only for her eyes to spark with
something I couldn’t read. She stepped closer. So close that her big tits

brushed against my chest. “I’m just a lowly Mexican woman. I no speak

English that well.” Her lip twitched, then she resumed walking. Looking

over her shoulder, she said, “Come, Tanner Ayers, White Prince of the Ku

Klux Klan. We shall continue with the tour.”

I tensed. Her thick accent had dropped; perfect English fell from her lips.

My fists balled at my sides when I heard the prick behind us snicker. I

started walking, wiping sweat from my head. “Too hot, señor?” Adelita

asked.

“I’m Texan. I fucking know heat,” I hissed. Adelita fell into step beside

me. My fists clenched tighter at her closeness. The bitch was doing it on

purpose to rile me.

Amusement flashed on her face, but she quickly schooled her features. Her

daddy had taught her well. She was a good little cartel princess. Not letting

her emotions rule her. Not letting her “enemies” best her. “This way,

Tanner Ayers. I have more of my country to show you. In fact, I have

planned many days for us just like this. I’m sure you’re going to very much
enjoy it . . . you will adore Mexico before you leave.”
 My hands shook with anger. But I had to play the game for the sake of the

cause. Then she’d be sorry. They would all be sorry when we prevailed . . .

I woke, still feeling the heat of that day on my skin, and rubbed my hands

over my eyes. I could still feel Adelita standing close to me. Still feel the

annoyance in my bones when she stood so close . . . still smell her perfume

that I’d never been able to forget, the coconut scent of her hair . . . still see

the red of her lips, her long lashes, her brown eyes . . .

The banging on my door ripped me from being lost inside my head. The

door opened and Tank stepped through. “Church. The Diablos are here.”

“Why?” I got up from my bed. I slept like shit. I threw on my jeans, a

black shirt, and my cut.

“Chavez and Shadow are here. Got some intel on Quintana.” Tank’s face

frosted over. “Shadow heard whispers that the fuckers are planning to come

at us strong.” I nodded my head. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey off my

table, I took a mouthful. “You good?” Tank asked.

I nodded again. Truth was, Tank didn’t know it was Quintana’s daughter I

was fucked over, just some cartel princess. I was waiting for him to put

together the pieces. Her name being Adelita. The Klan in business with

Quintana. It wouldn’t be hard to figure out. Only one person knew the truth

—Hush. I fucked up and told him one night. Had too much fucking whiskey

and told him. I knew he hated me. I’d wanted to show him I didn’t hate
him. That I wasn’t the White Prince no more. I didn’t know if he’d told

anyone. Didn’t know if Styx knew.

“You sure?”

I nodded again, then followed Tank to church. As always the place was

crammed. I stood at the back, ignoring the few stares that came my way

after yesterday’s shitshow. I felt someone come up next to me. Rudge

crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. “Alright, mate,” he said, his

British accent instantly annoying me. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Slept off

the Nazi shit from yesterday?”

“Fuck off, Rudge.”

The room fell quiet as Styx and Ky walked in with Chavez, the president

of the Diablos, and Shadow, the ex-Quintana cartel member that got Sia and

Cowboy out of Mexico a while back.

Styx sat down; Ky sat beside him. The prez immediately started signing.

Ky spoke aloud. “Shadow got word that Quintana is planning on taking us

out in a month.” I tensed. The temperature in the room instantly dropped.

“A planned attack that’s aimed on sending most of us to Hades.”

“Why a month? Why so far away?” AK asked.

“There’s a wedding,” Ky said, this time speaking for himself. My blood,

which had been running hot in my veins, turned to ice. Styx looked to

Chavez.
 Chavez nodded. “Quintana’s cousin has a daughter. She’s getting married

in a few weeks in his estate. After that, the cartel are moving in. Joining the

war.” Chavez nudged his chin to Shadow to take over.

I sagged against the wall in relief. It was Adelita’s cousin. My heart was a

fucking bass drum in my chest as it recovered from thinking it was her.

Feeling someone’s eyes on me, I looked up. Hush was staring at me from

across the room. I quickly looked the fuck away. What the hell had I been

thinking, telling him about Adelita? I had no fucking idea. I’d lost my mind.
It’s not Adelita getting hitched, I told myself again. Calm the fuck down. It

ain’t her. A surge of pure rage swept through me, lighting me the hell up.
She wouldn’t do that to me. I was coming back for her. I’d told her so.

Made her a promise.

The thought that she’d go against that . . . that she’d fucking take someone

else between her legs—

“Quintana has men coming to Texas. Men who are planning to take y’all

out. Specialist men. Men that don’t fail. I don’t know much more than that,
but they’re coming after the wedding. And they’re coming in strong. Klan

have been flying solo until now . . . That’s all about to change.” I breathed
out through my nose, trying to stop the fire that was burning through my
veins at the thought that I could have lost her. That, after all the planning

and shit it had taken me to get to a place where I’d be able to go get her,
bring her the fuck home to me, she’d throw it away by marrying someone
else. After I’d left the Klan for her, my damn family, after I’d got into a club

that could protect her, keep her safe . . .

It wasn’t her.

Styx raised his hands, his body so tense it looked like he was about to
snap. “So we’re going in first.” Energy buzzed through the room like

wildfire. Styx’s eyes were hard, the Hangmen Mute in full control. My
pulse started racing in my neck. “Those assholes think they can touch us.
Touch our fucking bitches and land and unborn kids . . .” He gritted his

teeth. “They can think again. We’re gonna own those fuckers. Gonna go in
before they come for us.”

“We’re getting leverage,” Ky said. He smiled at each of us, a sadistic

fucking smile. “We’re taking the motherfucking bride.”

My racing pulse stilled. Adelita didn’t have many friends or family

members—Daddy had kept her locked away out of sight apart from to mix

with the locals, win them over so they were always loyal. I didn’t know if
she was close to this cousin. I didn’t know if it would hurt Adelita if she

was taken. I didn’t know shit.

I closed my eyes and took a long breath. I couldn’t keep doing this. I was a

motherfucking Hangman. I knew the cartel, and I knew what Quintana was
capable of. That sadistic fucker would kill us. And he’d enjoy doing it. I
had to push these feelings away. I had to get on board and figure shit out on
the fly like I’d always done.

“Tanner?” I looked up. All eyes were on me. My eyes narrowed as I tried
to work out what had been said. Ky was speaking for Styx, the prez’s

suspicious gaze locked on me. I’d fucking zoned out. Tank shifted beside
me. I knew he’d be wondering what was wrong with me. I was fucking up

lately. I knew it.

Styx’s hands moved. “We need you on the Klan’s plans,” Ky said. “Tell us

where they’ll be and when. Don’t wanna have to deal with them too. Get
word out we’ll be on the road that day. Perfect bait for the Nazis to come

hunting us.” I nodded. Styx pointed at Shadow. “Shadow will be covering

the cartel side of things.”

“I just gotta get plans of Quintana’s place. I never worked with him. I was
one of Garcia’s men, not high enough up to meet the man himself.” Shadow

cracked his knuckles, lost in thought. “The wedding is on his property. It’s a
fucking fortress. Quintana’s being smart. No fucker would dare infiltrate
that place. Even the people who live in the villages around there are loyal to

him. He gives them food and clean water, helps them be safe. They’d die to
protect him and his family. With the war, it’ll be the best fucking protected

place in all of Mexico.”

 My lips twitched as I fought a war inside me. I squeezed my eyes shut.

Saw Adelita’s face beside me on the pillow. Her perfect brown eyes and
lashes and perfect lips . . . her hand holding mine.

“Do you trust me?” I asked.

“Si, mi amor. I trust you with my whole heart.”

“I know the place.” Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and saw the
entire room turning their heads my way. None more so than Styx. I stood
off the wall, fucking showing my six-four height and two-hundred-and-

fifty-pound weight. “I’ve been there. Stayed there on and off for a few
months a few years back.”

“And you just thought to tell us this now?” Ky asked.

“There was no plan to go into his place until now. No mention of going

onto Quintana’s turf.” The rage from only a few minutes ago flared inside
me. “I was the fucking heir to the Klan. I went with my old man on most

things. The fucker didn’t let me in to most of what was happening. But
yeah, I’ve been to Quintana’s place. Been to a shit-ton of the Klan’s

associates’ places.”
“You know him personally?” Shadow asked.

“A little.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“You knew about the trafficking?” This came from Cowboy. I got it. His

bitch was taken.

 “No.” My jaw clenched. “My old man kept that shit close to his chest.

Seemed he had Meister for that. We were drugs and guns. That and
preparing for the race war.” A few snickers followed. I gritted my teeth.

“You can draw up the plans of his estate?” Shadow asked.

I pushed Adelita from my mind, her voice telling me not to betray her

papa, to betray her, and nodded. “I can do better than that.” Tanner . . . I
heard Adelita’s panicked voice sound in my head. No, mi amor . . . But

what the fuck was I meant to do? The cartel was on us if we didn’t strike
first. I had to keep her safe. I’d fucking make sure they didn’t harm her

cousin. If this meant saving Adelita . . . I’d do it. I’d have to figure out a
way of making her understand.

I gotta, princess, I said in my head. For us.

The room was waiting for me to speak. Exhaling, I said, “I can tell you the

hidden passages.” Shadow raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Quintana’s place

is full of them. They lead out to an exit that isn’t as closely guarded. Of
course, it might be on that day. But it’s gonna be the only way you’ll get in

and out. If you succeed at all.” My neck ached with the tension in my
muscles.

“How do you know these passages so intimately?” Ky asked. I could tell

by his face he was trying to work it out. When I caught sight of Styx’s dark

expression, I was sure he’d already worked it out.

 The room was fucking silent. My head told me to keep my mouth shut.
But the time had come. The fucking time had come to speak the truth. I kept

Adelita’s face in my mind. “The bitch I fell for . . . the one I left the Klan
for . . .” I swallowed back the betrayal I felt, choking my throat. “It was
Adelita . . . Adelita Quintana. Alfonso Quintana’s daughter.”

I tilted my chin and met Styx’s eyes straight on. I wouldn’t be ashamed. I
owned that bitch.

“Shit,” Tank hissed. I turned to Tank to see shock on his face. Shock and
then sympathy. “Tann . . .” He would understand. He would understand why

it was as fucked-up a situation as a Klansman could get himself into.

Before anyone could speak, I said, “She doesn’t have anything to do with

the cartel life. Her old man keeps her the fuck out of the business. She isn’t
a threat to us. To anyone. She’s just caught up in the shitshow.” Tank put his

hand on my arm, silently telling to shut the fuck up.

“She know you’re with us now?” AK asked, eyes narrowed.

I shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t know what she knows anymore.” I rocked
on my feet. “She’s young. Only twenty-two. Sheltered. She’ll have no

fucking idea of the danger she’s in.” My stomach tightened at that fact.
“Nice!” Vike said. “Younger woman. Tighter pussy. I get ya, man. Good

choice.” The fucker winked.

 “We’re at war with your family. And now your old lady,” Ky said, trailing
off. He met my eyes, a question hanging in the air.

“Fuck my family,” I spat. “They can all have their throats slit for all I
care.”

“And the bitch?” Bull asked.

“I’m a Hangman. I won’t jeopardize that. Take the fucking cousin. I don’t

care.” I was sure the brothers heard the bullshit in my voice. Because
nothing or no one was hurting Adelita. I just had to think of a fucking plan.

Something to keep her safe. Someway to get her out and make her
understand everything I’ve done. “But at some point, I’m getting her. I’m

getting her the fuck out of Mexico and having her by my side.”
Styx looked at me. I dared him—any of them—to argue. But he just

pointed at Shadow. “You get him the plans. Make sure they’re right.” Styx
looked around the room, focusing on some of the brothers. “AK, Smiler,
you’re going.” They nodded, excitement sparking in their eyes. “Crow, you
too.” Crow smiled wide and bowed his head once. “Need someone to

discreetly take out as many of these fuckers as possible.” Styx looked at

Edge. “You go too.”
“Say no more,” Edge replied.
“We plan for this. We plan fucking hard. And we don’t fail. We’ve got too

much to lose. We take one of theirs, we can negotiate. We don’t get

leverage? We all stand a chance of going to the boatman.” Styx slammed
the gavel down, and the brothers started leaving the room.

As I went to leave, Tank pulled me back. When the room was empty, he
said, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
I pulled my arm back from him. “I had to keep her safe.”
Tank was pissed. I saw it in his eyes. “You still could’ve told me. We
could’ve told Styx and Ky together. Figured something out. Planned to get

her out.” He shook his head. “You know how that looked, just dropping a
bomb like that? Quintana’s daughter, Tann?” I didn’t speak. Tank stepped
closer to me. “It made you look guilty of something.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” Tank ran his hands down his face. “Never thought

we’d go to war with Quintana. Never thought Adelita would ever be on the
Hangmen radar. But here we fucking are. And I still intend to get her back.
When this shit is all over. I’m getting her back. That’ll never change.” I
didn’t wanna talk anymore. I was fucking done. “I need a smoke.”

I left Tank in church, left the clubhouse and walked to the woods. The
minute I had the cover of the trees, I let my fist fly into the nearest one. My
knuckles ripped open, but I didn’t stop. I hit it again, seeing Adelita’s face,
Beau’s face, and the faces of all my fucking Hangmen brothers when I’d

told them about Lita. I punched it and punched it until I was out of breath
and blood dripped from my hand.
 A twig snapped. I swung around, ready to smash in the face of whoever
was here. Whoever had a death wish. Hush stood watching me, his arms

folded across his chest. My balled fists relaxed. If it had been anyone
else . . .
“What do you want?” I said, voice fucking rasped.
“You okay?”

I stared at Hush, at his ice-blue eyes staring me down. My mixed-race

brother standing near a tree, the branch hanging low near his neck, made me
think of all the fucking faceless men I’d seen swinging from nooses. The
work of my old brotherhood, done to anyone who wasn’t white, who was a

Klan deserter or who was an enemy to the cause.

“You didn’t tell him.” I was talking about Styx. Hush had kept my secret.
Hush raised his eyebrow. “No.” He stepped closer. Lighting up a smoke,
he offered one to me. I took one and lit up, taking a long drag. “Wasn’t my
story to tell,” Hush eventually said. My stomach untwisted. “Who you’re

fucking ain’t my business.”

Who I’m fucking? I thought. She’s my fucking fiancée! I almost snapped.
But I held it back. No one knew that. No one but me and her. Christ. At
times I didn’t even know if it was still true. If she still had the scrap of a

makeshift ring I’d given her. If she still even wanted me.
 “We’re gonna be taking her cousin,” Hush said. I took drag after drag of

my smoke, hoping the nicotine would stop the pulling feeling in my

stomach. The damn rope that was coiling around my organs, tearing them
apart. “Your old lady gonna forgive you for that?”
Truth was, I didn’t fucking know. But she’d already forgiven me for
worse . . .

Hush flicked his smoke to the ground, standing on it to put it out. With one
last silent look, he walked back toward the clubhouse. The minute he was
out of sight, I slumped to the ground. Back against the tree that was now
stained with my blood, I closed my eyes and let the sun that was slicing

through the trees warm my face.

I thought of Adelita sitting, waiting for her cousin to marry. Having her
not show. Panicking when she realized she’d been taken by the Hangmen,
Valdez, or whoever the fuck else her old man had pissed off. I blew out a

breath. I didn’t fucking know what to do. I didn’t know how to be in this
club with all this shit hanging over me. The woman who owned my heart,
now the enemy. I had to protect her, but I had to protect my club too. And
then there was my brother, my fucking little brother . . .

Needing something to think of that wasn’t this shit, I let the sun heat my
face and thought back to Adelita. To the days when she made me lose my
mind. The days when she started knocking down walls I thought would

never be destroyed . . . especially by someone like her . . .

I sipped at my water. I needed whiskey like I was a damn alcoholic, but I
hadn’t touched liquor since we’d arrived here a couple of weeks ago. I
didn’t trust anyone here. Not fucking one of them. I was keeping my head

straight, my eyes clear.

I glanced up at the sun. It was hot as fuck. And another day had come
when my old man had kept me out of whatever he was planning with
Quintana. Another fucking day where I had to sit around and count down

the days when we got to go back to our Texan lands.

Beau: How is it?
Me: Shitty. How’s back home?
Beau: Same old same. Landry taking care of business. Be good to get you
back.

Beau kept checking in while I was here. He didn’t trust Quintana; that was
obvious. I’d give anything to be home. Instead I was here. In this hell.
Looking at the jokes that were Quintana’s guards, I barely heard the click
of a door opening to my left. I froze when Adelita walked through, holding a

book, dressed in a short see-through robe of some sort, showing off her tight
body. Her black hair hung down her back in loose curls. Her eyes were
covered with massive black sunglasses. She came toward me, her red high
heels clicking on the path. I’d sat around the ridiculous-sized pool this

morning hoping the bitch wouldn’t find me to drag me around with her. I
was fucking done with being around her. Her husky voice grated on my
nerves. I was twenty-seven. She was quite a bit younger than me. I’d guess
late teens or early twenties. But somehow had every fucker here wrapped

around her finger. She clearly thought she could do the same with me too.
Bitch was sorely mistaken.
The empty bottle of water crackled. I hadn’t realized my fists had clenched
around it, cracking the plastic, until the noise echoed around the pool. And

I didn’t realize my eyes had never left Adelita until she lifted her sunglasses
and smiled at me. “Enjoying the view, Señor Ayers?”
My lip curled as she waited for my response. “Don’t flatter yourself.” I
turned my head, trying to ignore her. I had no idea why the fuck she even

wanted to be around me. No, that wasn’t true—I’d guessed pretty quickly.
She knew I didn’t like her. And she was just trying to piss me off.
And, despite myself, it was working.
Seeing her move in my peripheral, I turned, only to see her shedding her

robe, revealing a red bikini underneath. If it could be called a fucking

bikini. Adelita sat down beside me, on the lounger right next to mine.
I could smell that fucking perfume again. “I know what you’re doing,” I
said, seeing that asswipe Vincente eyeing me from across the pool.
 “Yes?” she said. “Care to enlighten me? To make me aware of my master
plan?”
I turned my head to find her amused dark eyes already on me. “Yeah,” I
hissed. “You’re trying to piss me off. Have been since your daddy told you

to watch the Nazi.” Her nose flared, even though she kept her face
expressionless.
There. There was the fucking tell that she was hating this shit as much as I
was. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Vincente moved

out of sight to take a call. Taking advantage of her distraction, I leaned in

and snarled, “You don’t do anything for me. So you can stop acting like I’d
ever find you appealing. I won’t ever stick my cock in your pussy.”
Adelita swallowed, as always trying to fight back her anger, but this time
she couldn’t. Her brown eyes flared, and I saw the fucking fire ignite. I saw

it before it happened. Adelita tried to take advantage of my closeness and

struck out with her hand. Just before her palm sliced my cheek, I caught her
wrist and yanked her toward me. With my nose almost touching hers, I said,
“Nice try, princess.”

“Get off me,” Adelita hissed, trying to pull her hand back. I squeezed it
tighter.
“I can’t wait for my father to be done and to be back on American soil.
Out of this fucking place.” I moved so close to her that I could feel her
warm breath flow over my face. She smelled of mint and the coconut from
her hair and the sunscreen that was slick and shining on her tight body. Her
tongue ran over her red lips. That lipstick. That motherfucking lipstick she
always wore was pissing me the hell off more with every day that passed.

“Release me,” Adelita said, calmly. Too calmly. I knew it was bullshit. I
could see the hate for me in her eyes, could feel her wrist shaking in my
hand.
“Stay the fuck away from me,” I warned. Our foreheads were practically

touching. I needed her to get the message. To get the fucking message that
having her beside me every day was no longer gonna work. I wanted her
gone. Her brown eyes and long hair and long lashes out of my
motherfucking life. “You’ll stop speaking to me. You’ll leave the fucking

room if I’m in it, and you won’t even look my way. I’m the White Prince of
the fucking Ku Klux Klan, the institution that’s gonna save America. From
the freeloaders and the impurists and—”
Suddenly, Adelita smashed her lips to mine. I froze, still holding her wrist

tightly in my hand. I tasted mint, and when Adelita pushed her tongue inside
my mouth it was sweet and addictive and—
Adelita pulled back, wrenching her hand from my wrist only to slice it
across my face. My head snapped to the side, the sting from her palm the
gasoline to the fire I already had blazing inside. Slowly, I turned my head
until I met her seething eyes. “You, Tanner Ayers, do not appeal to me.” My
chest rose and fell with my rapid breaths. Adelita leaned forward, and a
piece of hair fell over face. It made her look different, normal. She never

looked anything but perfect. A perfectly put together princess whose daddy
kept her locked away in his ivory tower built on blow.
I could smell her. I could smell the coconut. It was on my fucking skin. My
hands. My face and lips. I sat up when I felt my dick getting hard. Needing
to hit something, needing to pour out this rage she’d made me feel, I

jumped up. I swung to Adelita, tasting the mint from her mouth. “You,” I
hissed. “You’ve fucking done this, you’ve—” I grabbed her shoulders and
wrenched her to me. She weighed nothing, and my hold was too strong. Her
chest crashed into mine. Her hand struck my face again and again, until I

threw her to her down to the lounger and pinned her down by her two slim
wrists. I sat between her legs and leaned down until I was all she could see.
“You fucking whore. You touched me. You don’t get to do that. Your impure
hands don’t get to touch—”

The sound of voices made me freeze. It wasn’t until I forced the rage aside
that I realized my mouth was hovering just above Adelita’s. Her skin was
flushed and her tits were pressed right against my bare chest. Big Mexican
tits pushing against my solid black swastika tattoo.
 “Get your Nazi hands off me.” Adelita spoke slowly and quietly. “My
guards are about to come around the corner. And if they see you touching
me they will shoot you.” I opened my mouth to tell her that I didn’t care.

That I wasn’t scared by the guards who held guns and pretended they were
someone in this clusterfuck of a world, but she beat me to it. “Papa wants
this deal to go through. I suggest you—” she put her lips closer to my ear
“—get the fuck off me, Prince Ayers.” The smell of roses sailed past my

nose from the perfume on her neck.

Hearing Vincente’s voice getting louder, I rolled back off Adelita and sat
down on the lounger. Vincente and three other guards re-entered the pool
area seconds later. Vincente instantly looked to Adelita. He spoke to her in

Spanish, and she replied. She was holding her book again, a smile on her
face and lipstick righted from where it had smudged. At least most of it was.
Almost back to the perfect princess she pretended to be, but I knew she
wasn’t. I saw the cracks.

As Vincente glared at me, then walked away, I leaned over and said, “Your
lipstick’s smudged, princess.” I smirked as her rabid dark eyes slammed to
mine. “You look like a whore.” I jumped to my feet and stormed across the
poolside until I was in the guest suites. I slammed the door shut and
practically ran to the shower. I squeezed my eyes shut as I let the water

wash away the coconut from my skin, the mint and rose scent. Wash
Adelita’s touch, her fucking impure touch, off my body . . . and her taste
from my mouth. The mint and sweetness and the fucking feel of her whorish

tongue sliding next to mine. The feel of her tits against my chest and her
between my legs. Releasing the rage that had been building since she’d
walked out to the pool . . . fuck—since I’d arrived in this piece of Mexican
hell—I curled my hand into a fist and sent it sailing into the wall. Blue tile
smashed and fell to the floor with my blood. I stayed there until the water

above me ran cold, the hatred not fading away . . . though this time it wasn’t
for Adelita. Instead it was with myself. My cock was still hard as granite. It
only got harder the more I recalled her mouth on mine, her tongue, her
tits . . . her motherfucking taste. So I punched the wall again. I punched and

punched until I knew there were fractures in my knuckles and the skin on
them was gone and nothing remained but raw flesh.
But it didn’t help. That bitch was all up in my head. A motherfucking
witch, that’s what she was.

Nothing but a fucking witch.

Getting out of the shower, I sat on the bed, but the room felt like it was
closing in. I needed air. Throwing on my shirt, boots and jeans, I walked out
of the guest suite . . . and right into my father. Before I knew it I was

slammed against the wall in the hallway. His eyes were livid. “Why am I
hearing from guards that you’ve been touching the daughter? Fucking
snarling in her face and slamming her on loungers?” I didn’t answer him.
What was the fucking point? It was the truth. My silence riled my father

more than any answer. And I braced for the punch. The many punches that
started plowing into my face. I tasted blood in my mouth, felt it trickling
down my chin from my lip and nose.
And I took it. I stood there and fucking took it, never striking back.

My father paused to add, “The guards are everywhere. If you fuck up this
deal, you’re done. You hear me? Fucking done.” His hands wrapped
around my throat—a warning. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. My father dropped his hands and righted his suit. “Now

get cleaned up. You look like a fucking redneck who has been in a bar
fight.” He walked off. I didn’t move from my spot against the wall. I still
warred with the urge to track him down and beat his fucking face to
nothing. But I wouldn’t. Like a good little son, I wouldn’t.

I caught movement from across the hall, and my stomach dropped when I
saw Adelita. Her pale face told me she’d seen it all. I wanted to tell her to
fuck off. To leave me the hell alone when she came toward me. Her brown
eyes searched over me—the cuts and blood—then she handed me a tissue.
“Are you okay?” she asked.

I glared. I fucking glared at the bitch. But then I saw something shift in her
eyes. It wasn’t pity. She wasn’t gloating.
 It looked like understanding.

Adelita started walking away. I looked out of the window nearby. At the
darkening sky. “You ever feel like your life isn’t your own?”
In my peripheral, I saw Adelita turn. When I met her eyes, the tears in
them made my heart fucking stop. “Yes,” she whispered, that whisper
slicing right through my fucking chest. “I know exactly how that feels.”

I stared at her. She stared at me. Bumps started breaking out along my
skin, and I turned away. I forced myself off the wall and stormed back into
the room. I slammed the door, then stood against the wood.
I ignored the pounding of my heart.

I pushed her tears out of my mind.

I refused to move until I had.
The sun came up, “I know exactly how that feels” still running through my
mind, her tissue still in my hand.

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Four

Adelita
Two years ago . . .

The air in the car was so thick I found it hard to breathe.

I was too aware of Tanner. Too attuned to every move he was making.

Before seeing him last night, hate toward him governed my every thought.
My every movement. Yesterday’s confrontation played on a loop in my mind.

Him hovering above me. The taste of him in my mouth: tobacco and smoke.
But seeing his father attack him last night in the hallway . . . seeing Tanner

standing there, refusing to fight back, had done something to that hate. It
had dulled it somehow. Started twisting it into something that felt like

sympathy.

Sympathy for the Nazi prince.

But it clearly had done nothing to dilute Tanner’s hatred for me. From the

minute I had seen him this morning, more contempt than usual seemed to

radiate off him toward me. His eyes were glacial as they met mine. His body
was more rigid when he was close to where I stood. And his lips were

tighter, like he was fighting back wicked words he wanted to throw my way.
 And now I was trapped in this car with him, thanks to my father . . .

“Take Tanner with you tomorrow, Adela. Show him the people we provide

for, who have jobs because of us. The local people who make us who we

are.” My heart beat a staccato rhythm as my father and William Ayers

nodded to one another like it was a good idea. The factory workers. I was to
meet with the factory workers tomorrow, and the children in the village’s

school.

I didn’t look at Tanner, even though he was right across from me. I hadn’t

looked at him once since our presence had been requested at dinner. We’d

been left alone for most of the weeks they’d been here. It was pure bad luck
that tonight, after what had happened beside the pool and then in the

hallway, had been the night my papa wanted us all together. Everyone was

simply ignoring the state of Tanner’s face. Like he wasn’t sat with a bruised

and wounded face and bandaged hands. It seemed Papa and Governor

Ayers’s deal was almost complete, so there was no need to acknowledge

anything that would put the deal in jeopardy.

But they’d be back. And they’d be back soon. The deal was going to take a
lot longer to hash out.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Tanner spoke first. “I think it’s time I sat

in with you, Father. I want in on the meetings. I should be. Enough of

leaving me out.”
 Governor Ayers’s jaw clenched at Tanner’s request. I was surprised Tanner

was being so confrontational, especially since his bust lip and nose were

only a couple of hours old. “Nonsense,” he said curtly. “The deal is almost

done.” He glared at Tanner for a few awkward seconds, as if he was giving

his son a warning with his eyes. “Go with Adelita tomorrow. See the

workers.” I could tell by his tone that it wasn’t a request.

Tanner’s eyes dropped from his father to the chicken on his plate, but

anger seeped from his taut muscles . . . muscles that, only hours ago, had

kept me trapped beneath him.

“Then it’s settled,” Papa said. “Tanner will accompany you tomorrow

before he and his father leave. It will be good for you to see the people our

businesses help, Tanner. It will show you why we do what we do.”

The sound of a car horn broke me from the memory of last night. My hand

was gripping my thigh so hard that I knew there would be a bruise

underneath my purple dress.

Marco, my driver, took us through the country roads to the village.

Vincente was in the passenger seat. Music played quietly from the radio, but

the tension in the car was as thick as fog. Privacy glass separated me and

Tanner from Vincente and Marco. They wouldn’t hear a thing unless I

pressed the button and allowed them to. But I had nothing to say to Tanner

that needed to be kept out of earshot of my guards, and by the way he sat
far away, looking out of the window with a sour expression on his face, I

could tell he had nothing to say either. If he wanted to act like what I’d seen

last night hadn’t happened, I could play his game. What did it matter
anyhow?

All I could think of was of the way I’d slapped his cheek by the pool.

Pressed my lips to his to make him stop. To shut up the White Prince and his

annoying superior attitude. I hadn’t expected him to kiss me back. It was

only for a few seconds, but his mouth had taken control of mine.

I didn’t like it . . . I didn’t. I didn’t like the way he held me down. I was

angered by him as much as he was by me.

The movement of his hand on his knee caught my attention. His hand was

fisted, as was mine. I risked another quick glance at his face and found him

watching me. I didn’t look away. I refused. I wouldn’t let him see that he had

been on my mind. That this Nazi prince had in any way affected me. That

last night, in the hallway, and at dinner, I had felt some kind of kinship with

him as his father beat him, as he pushed him out of the business he was

brought here to conduct. That I had seen that, like me, he was under the

iron fist of his father—we the puppets dancing on paternal strings.

My heart beat faster and faster the longer he looked at me. Needing to say

something, to break the stifling silence that had befallen the back of the
stretch town car, I said, “You will not be offensive to these people.”
Tanner’s eyes narrowed, the only tell that my order had pissed him off.

Good. His very presence pissed me off on a daily basis. The fact that he was

in my country reluctantly—the country that I loved—pissed me off. He felt

we were below him. But he, with his superior attitude and narrow-

mindedness, was what didn’t belong.

I shifted to face him, relaxing my hand, masking the fact my pulse was

racing. “These people have it hard. You will not walk amongst them and

shame them. Shame them for being proudly Mexican and devoted to my

family. They are not from our world. They walk in the light, not in the dark.

They do not know of the Ku Klux Klan, know people who will hate them
before knowing them simply for being darker in skin.”

“I couldn’t give a fuck about them,” Tanner said, his voice unable to hide

the tightness that was clearly blocking his throat.

“Get through this, Tanner Ayers, then you will soon leave this country you

detest.”

Tanner looked forward, away from me, but his eyes locked straight ahead

on something. Vincente. Vincente was watching us with suspicious eyes.

Tanner glared at him. Vincente’s gaze moved to me. I smiled, trying my best

to convince him that all was okay. When he put his attention back to the

tree-lined roads, I relaxed.

 “I have never disliked anyone in my life the way I dislike you,” I

whispered so as not to draw attention. I looked out at the fields that had

begun to peek though the thinning trees, just to avoid having to look at

Tanner’s miserable face.

“The feeling’s mutual, princess,” Tanner spat. I gritted my teeth,

practically vibrating with animosity. With frustration. At how a man so

good looking could make himself so repulsive by the hate that poured from

his blue eyes. I was brought up by the most ruthless cartel boss that had

ever graced Mexican soil. I was fully aware that the luxury I was awarded

came from money made from the blood of our adversaries. Of people with

drug addictions. It was life. It was my life. Tanner Ayers had walked a

similar path. Only his days consisted of hatred. Hatred for those who didn’t

fit into his perfect WASP box. And he loved his ideology so much that he

wore it on his skin for everyone to see. Symbols of hate and oppression.

Racism and prejudice etched on his flesh in stark black lines.

What must it be to live with that level of hate in one’s heart? Was he even

capable of love? Or was it as foreign to him as the country he now looked

upon from the window?

He must have seen that my attention had drifted to him along with my

wayward thoughts, because he glared at me. The brief flicker of sympathy I

had just felt for him again melted away with that one look . . . but then, for
a fraction of a second, his hatred fell, disappeared from his eyes, and his

gaze moved to my lips. Tanner’s mouth parted and he exhaled a quick,

frustrated breath.

My heart kicked into a sprint. My face heated as if I were suddenly before

a blazing fire. But then Tanner ripped his gaze from me and turned to look

back out of the window. I saw him breathing heavily and clenching his fists

so tightly I thought he might snap his bandaged fingers.

My mind cleared the second the car stopped. A second car had followed
behind. More guards. My father had many enemies, and any trip out of the

heavily guarded hacienda was a risk. My father kept me safe, but sometimes
that safety was an iron cage. The trips to the village were one of my only

outlets.
Vincente got out of the car and opened my door. Tanner followed and

walked around the car to stand beside me. I had never been more aware of
his presence than I was right now. Since yesterday. Since he’d put his hands

on me. And I’d put mine on him. I regretted kissing him. I regretted giving
him any of my attention these past few weeks.

Guards gathered around me as we walked to the village. The minute we

entered the small square, people came out of their houses. I nodded to the
guards to start handing out the money we had brought. They did, and the

people reached for my hand in thanks. I hugged the children I saw each
week, listening to their stories of what they had been learning in school.
Money went to the teachers, the parents, and the elderly.

I looked behind me, wondering where Tanner had gone. He was standing
at the back of the crowd, watching. His arms were crossed over his wide

chest, his tight white shirt stretched over the heavy muscles. He wore a
scowl on his face, yet there was almost an echo of bewilderment in his

expression too. People stared at the large American who was covered in
ink. Some of the children even tried to speak to him. He ignored them. I had
expected nothing less.

He was silent, hanging at the back, as we walked through the factory, then
in the school. He didn’t say a thing the entire time. No slights or slurs.

Tanner just watched with fierce intensity. I had no idea what he was
thinking.

It bothered me that I seemed to care.

When we climbed into the back of the car and pulled away, I glanced over

to him. He was watching the outside world go by. Dusk was falling, casting
the rolling golden fields in a shroud of orange light. “My favorite time of

the day,” I whispered. I saw him tense as I spoke. I didn’t care. I would
speak when I wanted to. I was Adelita Quintana. And I had a voice. I was

sick and tired of men telling me when I could and couldn’t speak. That my
thoughts and opinions did not matter in this world. “You may feel that we
Mexicans are nothing but the dirt on your so-called superior American
shoes, but you are wrong. We are people of integrity, hard work, and

family.” I pointed to the fields. “And even you, White Prince, cannot deny
the beauty of this Mexican sunset.”

Tanner exhaled and slowly turned his head to me. I saw the hunger in his
eyes the minute our gazes collided. I swallowed at the sudden thickness in

my throat. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—else, when a

deafening gunshot sounded outside. Suddenly, the car swerved and

something crashed into us, feeling like a boulder smashing into a cliff and
sounding like thunder deafening the sky. The metal of the car crunched and

we were sent hurtling into the side of the road.

What the hell? I thought. What’s happening? I blinked, trying to see

outside the car as we slammed into something that caused the car to stop
and our bodies to thrash against the seatbelts. Looking up, head spinning, I

saw blood on the glass that separated the front of the car from the back.
Panic cut through me.
“You okay?” A voice was trying to push through the heavy white noise

that was buzzing in my ears and the seemingly slow-motion visuals outside
the car. Gunshots fired in quick succession somewhere in the near distance.

My body quickly unfroze . . . but it was to a stark realization.

Tanner was lying across me.
 Covering me.

Protecting me.
His blue eyes were looking into mine as he asked again, “Adelita? You

okay? We have to move.”

His thick, tattooed arm was an iron seatbelt across my waist. He had kept

me safe. He had made sure I wasn’t injured as the car veered into the ditch
at the side of the road. Blood trickled from his nose and from a gash in his
head. He’d been hurt. Hurt protecting me.

I could hardly breathe at that fact.

And he’d called me by my name. Even with all the chaos, the blood and

gunshots, it occurred to me . . . he had called me by my name.

“We need to move,” Tanner said again, moving back from me. Shock

rendered me speechless when he took my hand in his. He pulled me to his

side of the car, and the door flew open. I held my breath, fearing it would be

the attackers, but my fear was quelled when I saw it was Vincente.
“Come, Lita. We need to get you to a safe house.” Another round of

gunfire sounded in the distance. My attention was drawn to the mass of red
blood on the panel of glass between the seats.

“Marco . . .” I said, my stomach cramping in panic as I saw his eyes wide

open, staring at me coldly . . . dead. “No!” I whispered.
 “Adelita, come, we need to move,” Vincente said. “We have the attackers

busy further down the road, but we need to get you out of here now while
we wait for backup. They are strong, and we don’t have enough men to keep

you safe.” Tanner pulled me out, keeping me by his side. I was scared, in
danger . . . yet I could only concentrate on how Tanner was keeping me

close . . . not letting go. My heart stuttered as he shielded me as he scanned

the road. I reminded myself of all the awful things he’d said, that he’d done.

The way he looked at me. Just to remind myself he wasn’t a good man.
But then I replayed his father hitting him, and Tanner just letting him. Of

his words . . . Do you ever feel like your life is not your own . . .?
On Vincente’s command, one of the guards from the second car came over,

pulling me from my thoughts. “Get them to the safe house a few miles
north,” Vincente ordered. The guard nodded and, holding his gun high,

went to make sure the entrance to the forest was clear. Vincente addressed
me and Tanner. “Stay there until help arrives. There are supplies if this
takes time. An emergency phone to check in on the situation. Cameras to

keep watch for anyone approaching.”

“I’m staying to fight,” Tanner said. He looked bloodthirsty, his eyes

flaring with adrenaline, the muscles in his neck tensing. My stomach fell at
the thought of him staying . . . I tried to push the stupid feeling away. Why

did I care if he joined the fight? My father’s guards would protect me.
Always had. Let the White Prince fight. Let him take on my father’s enemies
and risk his life for the sake of his pride.

Yet the sinking feeling in my stomach didn’t go, no matter how much I tried
to convince myself I didn’t care.
I shouldn’t care.

I didn’t want to care.

Do you ever feel like your life is not your own?

Vincente smirked, unmoved by Tanner’s domineering, intimidating

presence. “You’ll go with Adelita. I like my life, and if something happened

to the Klan heir on my watch, I would lose it. No help from you is worth
that.” Tanner gritted his teeth like he was going to argue, but when the

guard signaled for us to move, he cursed under his breath and dragged me
into the mouth of the forest. He yanked on my arm so strongly that I wasn’t

sure I’d keep up with him. He was pissed. I could see that. But pissed at the
situation? Or the fact he had to stay with me? If that was so, why protect

me? Unless it was so the deal wasn’t broken with my father . . . Was that his
motivation? Why did I care if it was?

We didn’t stop, instead diving deeper into the forest. My ankles strained
with every step I took; my shoes were not appropriate for hiking. But we

kept going . . . and all the time Tanner didn’t release my hand. I should have
been watching for threats, but instead I watched him as his eyes roved
around the forest, never letting down his guard. I knew he must have been
trained for this somehow. The way he was acting, it was like he knew how to

keep safe. American military, maybe?

Up ahead, my father’s man moved swiftly along the uneven path that led to

one of the many safe houses my father had around this land. My heart
raced, the fear of the attack leaving me reeling and on edge. As the

daughter of Quintana, this was not the first, or even the tenth attempt on my
life. But I never got used to it. And my mind was overwhelmed with the fear

that this time would be the time that took me away.

It was no doubt a rival cartel. It always was. Men hungry for the wealth

and power my father possessed. I was always going to be the best leverage
for any of my father’s enemies. Everyone knew I was the Achilles’ heel of

Alfonso Quintana.
Time passed and darkness fell. The forest became thicker and thicker,
making it harder and harder to see. Still, Tanner never released me. His
hand in mine felt unyielding and strong. In a break in the tree-lined

darkness, I saw my almond skin against his tattooed white hand. The brief
slices of moonlight made them look not so different as Tanner believed.
My legs were tiring and the incline became steep. My arms were heavy, my
feet stumbling the more exhaustion set in, the more I lost energy. A twig

suddenly snapped somewhere beside us. Before we even had a chance to

hide, a series of gunshots rang out, cutting into bark and dead leaves. We
dropped to the ground, I assumed for coverage, but when Tanner exhaled a

pained breath I realized something was wrong. A gap in the high tree above
let in enough moonlight for me to see blood trickling from his bicep.
“Tanner,” I whispered, just as the guard got to his feet and started firing.
Footsteps drew near. My heart beat faster as the attacker approached. And
then a gurgled sound came from the guard. Fear held me in its grip. My

heartbeat echoed in my ears. Then the guard dropped to the ground,

immediately fighting to get back up like a wounded animal would do.
Tanner scrambled to where the guard lay. “How far to the safe house?” he
asked him. The guard held onto Tanner, trying to fight, to cling onto life, but

then he lost strength and something like acceptance settled in his dark eyes.
Acceptance that he wasn’t going to survive. My chest tightened in sympathy.
In sadness.
“One more mile . . . that way . . .” the guard managed, pointing west. He

handed Tanner a key from his suit pocket. I could see the guard was dying;
his labored breathing echoed like cracks of thunder in the silent forest.
Tanner took the gun from the guard’s hand, then reached for me, pushing
me to hide in the nearby trees. He waited, like a statue, for the gunman to

betray his location. Breath held, I watched Tanner, heart firing in my chest.
In the area we were in, blood was everywhere, red blotting out the green of
the grass and trees. I could see the blood running down Tanner’s arm.
Blood had stained his face from the impact of the crash. His hands were

soaked in blood from the guard’s wound. I glanced at the guard to see his
eyes were closed and his chest no longer rose and fell.
The sound of rustling leaves came from opposite where I hid. Tanner didn’t
even wait to see what the attacker would do. He darted from the ground and

dived into the coverage of the trees. I froze, eyes wide as I heard the sound
of fighting. I tried to follow the brief flashes of arms and legs, until two
bodies came barreling from the bushes. I blinked, trying to focus. Tanner
was holding the attacker in his grip, a knife pressed to the man’s throat. The

attacker flailed, trying to get away, but Tanner held him tightly in his strong
arms.
“Tell me who the fuck you work for.” He yanked the attacker’s head up by
his hair.
The attacker smiled in defiance, his teeth stained with blood. It only

infuriated Tanner more. Taking the knife, he stabbed it into the attacker’s
shoulder. The man paled. Tanner pulled the knife out, put his mouth to the
man’s ear, and repeated, “Tell me who the fuck you work for.”
Noticing a pin on the attacker’s suit, I stepped out of the trees. The man’s

mouth curled in disgust as he saw me. I walked to him and met his eyes. I
flicked my gaze to Tanner to see a surprised expression flash across his
face. “Valdez,” I said and ripped the pin from his suit. I held it out to

Tanner, showing him the emblem that I knew all too well. “He works for
Valdez.” Valdez was my father’s biggest opponent. I wasn’t surprised this
was all due to him.
“You fucking bitch!” the attacker snarled. “You’re gonna die. The
Quintana family will all die—”

Before he could even finish the threat, Tanner sliced the knife across his
throat. Blood poured from the wound. I watched him die with a detached
fascination. I had grown up with threats and death and blood as part of my
life. The sight of death didn’t haunt me at night. These days, it barely

inspired any reaction in me at all.

When the man dropped to his knees, Tanner used his heavy boot to kick his
back and send him sprawling across the floor while his body drained of
blood.

“You understood what he said?” I asked. Of course, the man had spoken
in Spanish. Tanner shook his head. I frowned. “Then why—”
“I didn’t like his motherfucking tone.” Tanner only held my questioning
gaze for a moment before he ducked his head and stepped away from me.

“We have to move.”

But as I followed him up the hill, toward the safe house, all I could think
about was why he had chosen to kill the man then. Why, when he had
spoken to me so badly, had Tanner cut off his words? Tanner hated me.

Hated Mexicans, hated my family. Why would he care if someone talked

badly of us?
I didn’t like his motherfucking tone.
I’d seen Tanner’s face as he’d glared at the man. I’d seen him snarl as the

man spat his vitriol at me. I’d seen his muscles cord in his neck at the
aggression shown toward me . . . and I had seen that flash of rage in his ice-
blue eyes. In the blanket of the moon’s blue glow, I had seen Tanner kill in
anger . . . and it seemed as though he was pissed at the way the attacker

had threatened me.

We walked the remaining mile in silence. But Tanner stayed close, and
although he didn’t take my hand again, he kept looking back at me. His
hands would ball into fists then relax, only to do it again. His shoulders
were tense, and the wounded arm was dropped, as if the pain was getting

worse. I couldn’t make out much of his injury in this darkness, but I knew it
was bad. The gun was slung over his chest, ready to use at a moment’s
notice.
I replayed how he’d killed the attacker. How the man had submitted so

easily. It was no longer surprising to me that Tanner Ayers was the heir to
the Ku Klux Klan. And I knew that in years to come, when he took over,
anyone they deemed inferior was not going to be safe.
 Tanner pushed through the thick foliage. He stopped dead, and I realized

we’d reached the safe house. I followed him as he quietly searched for the
door with his hands. It was pitch black, and the house was completely
hidden from view of anyone in the forest, on the road. My father’s safe
houses were always like that. Impenetrable. Fortresses hidden in plain

sight.
The sound of the door clicking open echoed off the surrounding tall trees. I
heard night birds scatter into the air. A cool breeze swept under my hair,
causing goosebumps to break out all over my body. I rubbed my arms,

trying to get warm.

A hand grabbed my arm. I jumped. But I wasn’t scared. I could tell by the
rough palms that it was Tanner.
I wasn’t scared.

I knew I should have been . . . but the ability to feel that emotion had long
gone from my soul.
I let him guide me into the safe house. The sound of the door closing
behind us echoed off the stone walls. Then there was silence. Only silence,

but for Tanner moving around. There were no windows. But there would be
cameras to scout for anyone who dared approach. Tanner must have been
familiar with this kind of setup. Maybe the Klan had these back in the US.
 A dim lamp came on, illuminating the round room. My eyes adjusted to the
light, and I looked around. Tanner sat behind a few monitors that I guessed
were linked to the cameras outside. The blue tint from their screens shone
on his face. There was blood. Tanner’s face and chest were covered in

blood. And he was holding his arm that bore the bullet wound.
A few patches of non-bloodstained skin remained. I narrowed my eyes. He
looked pale. Tanner Ayers was as much a fortress as the safe house that
now protected us. But his clenched jaw showed his pain. And his wounded

shoulder slumped as he worked to turn on the cameras.

I found the metal cabinet I was searching for on the far wall. After taking
out what I’d need, I filled a bowl from the kitchenette with water. When I
walked to Tanner, I saw the cameras were on. His eyes were locked on the
screens, searching for any threat of enemies. I picked up the emergency cell

and called my father.

“Adela?” he said, his voice as neutral as always. Alfonso Quintana could
never be seen to be ruffled.
“Papa,” I said, keeping my voice strong. “We are in the safe house.”

“You and Ayers?”

“Yes.”
There was a heavy pause. “My men are handling it. You’ll be retrieved
when it’s safe.”
 I flicked my gaze up to Tanner. His blue eyes were on me. “And when will
that be?”
“Sometime tomorrow,” my father said. I closed my eyes, but then pulled
myself together. “There are guns in the usual places, princesa. If you need

to use one, don’t hesitate. You’re a good shot. One of the best.”
My father hung up. The meaning of his words was not lost on me. If
Tanner Ayers became a threat, I had his permission to kill him.
Tossing the cell to the table, I met Tanner’s eyes. His huge body looked too

heavy for the seat he currently occupied. His white shirt was soiled with
blood—I was sure it wasn’t the first time he’d had blood on his hands.
“Tomorrow,” I said as I kicked off my heels. “We’re stuck here tonight.” I
saw the brief flash of anger cross Tanner’s face. But then his eyes were back

on the screens. He only lasted two minutes before he glanced down at his
shirt. He ripped it over his head with his good arm.
He tossed the shirt across the room. I didn’t let myself look at his torso.
Instead, I took the bowl of water and rag from the desk. “Get up.” Tanner’s

head snapped to me. “Get up,” I said again.

When he didn’t, I reached forward to take hold of his arm. He had hold of
my wrist in less than a second. “If you think I’m letting you touch me you’re
deluded,” he spat, before pushing me away.
 I moved in front of him. Leaning forward, putting my hands on the arms of
his seat, I lowered my face to just an inch before his. I glared into those
eyes that watched me with such intensity I almost lost my breath. His

nostrils were flaring and his wide tattooed chest was heaving with rage, or
whatever emotion he felt when I, a lowly Mexican, was so close. “You’re
covered.” I ran my finger down his face. My touch left a track mark on his
skin. I wiped the blood across his chest. Then I moved my hand to the
gunshot wound and pressed my finger, slowly and firmly, to the flesh.

Tanner hissed as I pressed harder. “You’re covered in the blood of my

enemies.” I smiled. “It suits you, White Prince. Tell me . . .” I ran my
fingertip up over his arm, slowly, gently . . . tenderly, until it reached the
blood-covered pulse that was beating wildly in his neck. “How many times

has it been Mexican blood on this skin?” I tipped my head to the side,
watching the anger rise to redden his skin. “Blood like mine? Of my
people?”
Tanner lurched forward, catching me off guard. My words and breath were

cut off as he launched from the chair, hand around my neck, and drove me
back into the nearest wall. My back hit the concrete, but all I could see was
Tanner. See the dark tattoos of hate glaring at me, offending me. Then his
face was in mine.
 “Why do you keep getting in the way? Why are you always fucking in the
way? Always here? Near me, with that fucking scent you always wear?”
His teeth were gritted, and his mouth was so close to mine. His grip on my

neck wasn’t tight, but it held me in place, showing me he could kill me if he

wished it. The blue of his eyes looked like ice in the dim light, the pupils
blown from anger.
And I smiled. I smiled with his fingers around my neck and his chest

pinning me to the wall. His hands tightened.

“What the fuck do you find amusing—?”
“Why did you save me?” Tanner froze as I interrupted him. His blue eyes
widened. I pushed my chest harder against him, my breasts scraping the

bare skin of his chest. The hand around my neck started shaking, his face
reddening. But I pushed harder. I kept speaking. Kept going. Kept pushing
the White Prince. Because now I’d started I couldn’t stop. This man ignited
the very blood that traveled through my veins. Made my heart race, not with

fondness, but with anger and hate and something that gripped hold of my
arteries and made me think of nothing but him and his tattoos and muscles
and the unreasonable hatred he held for me in his heart. Tanner’s breathing
was as heavy as mine. He shook. I shook. “Why did you kill the gunman
before we had a chance to interrogate him?” I pressed my forehead to his.
My breathing hitched as his warm flesh touched mine. “Because he insulted
me? Because he hated me? Because he wanted me to die?”

“You piss me off,” Tanner snarled, pushing closer. So close that no air
could pass between us. He could feel the heavy beating of my heart as much
as I could feel the pounding of his. And I could feel the heat from the words
he pushed out of his mouth. The lies that he so tragically wanted to believe
were true. “I fucking hate this country. Everything about it.” His fast,

anger-ridden breath splayed over my face. “But most of all, I hate you. You
more than anyone I’ve ever met. You repulse me.” Tanner’s nose moved up
my cheek, and I could barely breathe at the touch. “I hate your eyes, I hate
your face, I hate your body.” My body, which heated so much I felt like I

was on fire. I gripped his biceps, my nails stabbing into the already
bloodied flesh. “I hate that motherfucking smile.” Squeezing my neck
tighter, he hissed, “But most of all . . .” He took a deep breath. “Most of
all . . . I fucking hate that I want you so much.”

Tanner’s lips smashed to mine. They were hard and punishing and searing.
I moaned as his taste invaded my mouth—smoke and mint and leather. My
hands moved up his arms until they were hooked around the back of his
neck. I should have pushed him away, thrown him from me and found the

gun my father gave me permission to use. I should have pressed the barrel
over his heart and pulled the trigger, doing the world a favor by sending a
bullet through this devil man’s black-blooded heart.

Instead, I pulled him closer. I felt his muscled body next to mine. Felt how
hard he was under his jeans. “I fucking hate that I want these lips,” he
growled in between kisses, never once moving his mouth away, his lips
dragging across mine as he spoke. He kissed me again. “I hate that I want

this body.” Tanner pushed his tongue into my mouth. My tongue battled
against his as his thigh slid between my legs. I clawed at the bare skin of his
back. I needed to be closer. I wanted to crawl into him. I wanted to get
inside him until I possessed his very soul. “I hate that I want these tits.” His

hand dropped from my neck to my breasts. My eyes rolled as fire traced

through my body. “And I want this pussy.” Tanner’s hand moved between
my thighs, and I cried out.
His fingers weren’t soft or gentle. Finding the edge of my panties, he

ripped them from my body and tossed them to the floor. I had barely a
moment’s reprieve before his fingers were rubbing against my clit. A surge
of heat swept through my limbs until I felt like I was being burned alive. I
sank my fingers into Tanner’s skin as his body pinned me against the wall.
My eyes closed as his fingers worked me faster and faster. He thrust them

up inside me, and a long moan slipped from my mouth. Tanner’s chest on
mine kept me upright when my legs lost strength. But his fingers didn’t stop
plunging into me. They were relentless, he was relentless. I bit my lip as I

felt my orgasm build at the base of my spine. I flickered my eyes open to see
Tanner’s ice-blue eyes watching me, an expression on his face I’d never
seen before—hunger.
Insatiability.
Pure naked want.

I swallowed, just as his fingers pressed a spot inside me that had me

breaking apart. Tanner growled low as I screamed, coming in waves, his
fingers draining every ounce of pleasure from me. I was breathless as I
came down from the high he’d sent me to. And I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t

take that he was still inside me, still pushing me and pushing me more than
I could take.
“Tanner . . . I can’t . . . I can’t take anymore,” I said. I reached down and
pushed his hand away. Tanner twisted his arm and in a second had my wrist

in his hand. I tried to pull it away, the anger that I had momentarily lost
igniting in my chest. “Let go,” I warned. My mouth tightened, then dropped
open as Tanner pushed my hand between my legs. I whimpered as my hand
touched my sensitive skin. My heart beat wildly. I didn’t know what he was

doing. But that look in his eyes, pupils blown and focused all on me, made
me want to keep going. Made me want to completely ruin the White Prince
of Texas for anyone else.
 Tanner guided my fingers inside me, I gasped at the action, at the way he

was controlling me, making me touch myself. I moaned at the feel of my

submission, of letting him overpower me. Then, with his chest still keeping
me prisoner against the wall, he brought my fingers to his lips. My
breathing stopped as he sucked each finger into his mouth—slowly,

torturously, painstakingly—his fierce gaze never breaking from mine. My

heart began beating too fast, a rapid rhythm it had never beat before.

Tanner groaned, the husky sound echoing through my bones.

“Get off me,” I hissed through gritted teeth. I loathed the way he was
watching me. I detested how he was making me feel—how my traitorous

body responded to his touch. Then Tanner pressed against me, and I felt

him. Felt how hard he was. I started shaking. My hands, my legs, my entire
body. “I said get off me, Nazi.”

Tanner smiled. The first smile I had ever seen him give. If I had been
breathing, the smile on his face would have robbed me of all air. But when

he licked his lips, licked off the taste of me, I broke. Yanking back my hand,

I struck Tanner across the face, slicing my palm across his stubbled cheek.
The sound of the slap ricocheted around the small room like thunder.

Tanner’s head snapped to the side, his face covered in blood and stubble
and fresh wounds. Slowly, so very slowly, he turned his head in my

direction. His ice-blue eyes locked on mine. They were deathly dark and
filled with something I couldn’t decipher—no, I could: it was hunger. A

hunger so great it bordered on starvation. But hunger for what I didn’t

know. Death, pain . . . or me. Every one of his muscles was pulled tight and
bulged with veins.

His fast breathing became all I could hear. His eyes all I could see. I
watched him, he watched me, the tension that was pulsing between us like a

frayed rope ready to snap.

One minute I was staring into his eyes, wondering if I would ever see
daylight again, the next Tanner’s hand moved to the back of my neck. His

large hand swamped it; I knew it wouldn’t take any effort to snap it in two.
My nails mirrored his and crawled up to his neck. I yanked his face closer

to mine. Tanner’s minty breath smothered me. His face was venomous as he

stared me down. His eyes offering pain and death and the promise that I
wouldn’t be leaving this safe house alive.

So I smiled. I smiled and watched his skin burn with rage. Heart racing

and pulse throbbing, I flicked out my tongue and softly licked along the
seams of his lips. I dug my nails into his neck to steady my shaking hands.

Tanner was stock still in front of me, his body like granite beneath my touch.
“I can taste myself on your lips, White Prince.” I laughed and caught his

nostrils flaring at the sound. Tanner’s tongue seemed to unconsciously trace

the path my tongue had just made. I smiled wider, capturing his full
attention. “Mmm, Señor Ayers . . . it appears you like the taste of Mexican
pussy.” I moved my head forward until my face hovered just a fraction of an

inch before his. “My Mexican pussy.”

Tanner froze. A tortured groan sailed from his lips as his grip tightened to
a threatening hold on my neck.

I wasn’t sure whose breath flowed faster. I wasn’t sure whose heartbeat

pounded faster. And I wasn’t sure who moved first, but one second we were
locked in a battle of hate and tension, and the next our mouths were

smashed together and our tongues met in a furious duel. All I could taste
was Tanner. All I could see and feel and breathe was him.

I scratched at his skin, feeling his erection pressing against me. And I was

on fire. My skin felt aflame, the room stifling, causing my dress to stick to
my skin. But that didn’t matter for long. I ground against Tanner, my body

taking control of my mind until I could no longer feel me, just us. Us
touching and kissing, and hating each other so hard that it was all-

consuming and suffocating and drawing out a need I had never felt in all

my life.
Tanner’s hand dropped from my neck and yanked down the straps of my

dress. The warm air kissed my skin as my breasts were bared to the room.

Tanner moved back and looked down at my chest, and my nipples hardened.
But a wave of insecurity wrapped around me as sure as the humidity
wrapped around the room. My confidence dipped as a flicker of reality

registered in my brain. I had never been in this situation before. I was a

complete novice. But when Tanner growled low and insatiability shone in
his eyes, reality fled, and I reached down and ripped open his jeans. A

savage groan tore from Tanner’s throat, and he used his incredible strength
to lift me higher against the wall until his mouth was in line with my chest. I

didn’t get a single moment to prepare. Tanner’s mouth wrapped around my

nipple and his tongue started flicking over the flesh. Fireworks exploded
along my skin with every move of his tongue. My head fell back against the

wall and I wrapped my hands around Tanner’s shaved head, holding him

close so he couldn’t break away. His bare chest was scalding hot against my
skin, pressing against me so I didn’t fall from the wall. He was brute

strength and power all wrapped up in one offensively inked package. My

clit throbbed as Tanner devoured my breasts. I shifted in his tight grip,

needing to feel more. I didn’t care that I’d never been here before. Want and

incredible need were driving me forward. The realization of who he was

and the danger we were in only heightened the desperation of the moment. I

dug my nails into his head, my pussy heating as he hissed, mouth full of my

breast.
My dress slipped from my waist and fell to the floor. Tanner froze, then,

keeping me pinned to the wall, gazed down at my naked body. His eyes
flared and fire passed through them, so hot he could have been the devil

himself. He lifted his head. Time suspended as our eyes locked. Something
seemed to pass across his face. A new kind of fight . . . No, acceptance.

Caught off guard by thoughts of what that look could mean, I allowed
Tanner to lower me to the floor. The world fell away until there was only me

and him and this place. Even through the heat of the room, a chill broke out

over my bare skin, making it bump. Tanner stepped closer and closer until
his presence wrapped around me like a blanket. His forehead dropped to

mine, and his breath was shaking. I caught my breath and closed my eyes.

The pace of his breathing was in sync with my heart. The silence was so
thick it stole the oxygen from the room . . . until Tanner rolled his head,

cheek to my cheek, and whispered, “Adelita . . .”

I squeezed my eyes shut at the pain in his voice. Governed by this moment

and this man who I should hate and despise yet let pin me and strip me and

taste my skin, I dropped the barriers that had forever kept me safe, and
whispered in return, “Tanner . . .”

Two names spoken. No pretense, no hate, no Nazis or cartel princesses . . .

and it broke something in Tanner. Eyes slamming open, Tanner took my

mouth. His hands were everywhere, feeling every inch of my flesh. His

breathing was hard, as was his body as he pressed against me. Heart
pounding and in full control, I let the final thought of protest flee my mind.
And I attacked back. I dropped my hands to his jeans and pushed them

down. Tanner groaned as the denim bunched at his ankles. I swallowed in

trepidation as I looked down and saw his length. It was long and hard. My
stomach rolled in nerves and I lost a few breaths. But when I wrapped my

hand around it and watched as Tanner broke from ravishing my neck to

throw back his head and hiss, a confidence I never knew I could feel settled
inside me.

I watched Tanner as veins corded in his exposed neck. His tight muscles
bulged as he held my arms. I worked my hand up and down, until I couldn’t

keep just watching anymore. I licked along his neck, the taste of his skin

making me moan. That was all it took for Tanner to lift me against the wall
again, bringing my feet off the ground. His eyes on mine were hard and

strong, with a determination I’d never seen in him before. Seeing him so

wild and undone was all I needed to wrap my legs around him and bring my
mouth to his. Tanner dominated my lips and tongue, groaning as my legs

squeezed his waist tightly.

Tanner paused and met my eyes. He didn’t speak, but I read what he

wanted in his gaze . . . what he was asking. “Yes,” I whispered and nodded

my head. “Yes . . .”
Tanner immediately pushed against my entrance and slammed inside me in

one hard thrust. His desperation was apparent by his long, guttural groan. I
screamed as I flung my head back and a white-hot pain shocked through

me. Tanner tucked his head into my neck, and I clawed at his skin. My eyes
squeezed shut as he moved faster and faster within me. He filled me too full.

He was everywhere, the White Prince smothering my soul. Tanner’s hips

were relentless, thrusting into me so hard and fast that the pain I had felt
diminished into fragmented shivers of pleasure. The moans and groans

being stolen from our throats blended into a symphony that made an opera
theater of the small barren safe house.

At the sound of a cry dripping from my lips, Tanner lifted his head from the

crook of my neck and met my eyes. My breathing faltered at the sight. I

fought to breathe entirely when his mouth took mine, but this time softer and

more intense. The room shimmered as my eyes misted. So I closed them

tightly and held on to his neck. Held on to his mouth through our kiss. I

rolled my hips against his, chasing the climax that I felt building inside me.

Tanner moved faster and harder until my head fell back and I was
overtaken by him. By this moment and the bliss that rolled through me as

strong as the sun on a summer’s day.

Tanner groaned, then thrust into me one last time, emptying himself inside
me. His heavy breath washed over my shoulder, causing shivers to trickle

down my spine. Our skins were slick and damp and covered in the blood
that had been on Tanner’s arms and chest.
 But I didn’t care. As I caught my breath, Tanner still hard inside me, I held
tightly on to him as the room regained its stifling thick silence. But my heart

didn’t stop racing. It couldn’t calm as the adrenaline died and the fact that I
had been with Tanner hit home. I’d had sex with the infamous White Prince

of Texas. For all intents and purposes, an enemy of the Quintana cartel.

And Tanner Ayers, from the moment we had met, had been nothing but an
adversary of mine.

Yet here we were. The princess and the prince of opposing kingdoms,

unable to stay away from each other.

Tanner moved his head back with a heavy sigh. I straightened my

shoulders—I wouldn’t let him see me nervous, though I was shaking like a
dying fall leaf inside. Tanner’s face was streaked with blood. And as I

dropped my eyes to his arm, an arm that was now shaking, I saw the bullet

wound. Swallowing my trepidation, I whispered, “Your arm.”

Tanner didn’t look at his arm. He didn’t look away from me. His cheek was

a deep red from my slap, and he had nail marks all over his arms and neck

from where we’d fought and then fucked.

But Tanner remained silent. For once I wanted to hear words spoken from

his mouth. I needed him to speak. Instead, he lifted one of his hands and
brought it slowly to my face. His jaw was clenched, his teeth gritted. I held

my breath, wondering what he was about to do, then he pushed a piece of

my hair back over my shoulder. My heart flipped in my chest, swelling at his

soft gesture. As though he couldn’t take away his hand, he trailed it down
my cheek, my neck, then over my breasts until his hand fell away and

dropped by his side. His eyes had tracked the entire path.

His intensity left me breathless. Then he moved, taking me with him.

Tanner walked across the room, but I wasn’t paying attention to where we

were going. I was solely focused on him. Focused on his face, on my racing
heart, on trying to understand what had just happened.

The sound of water finally made me look up. Tanner had brought us into

the small bathroom. Steam began to rise from the shower. We stepped under
the spray, letting the water rinse the blood from our bodies, me still in

Tanner’s arms. He put me down, then took the soap from the rack and

started washing my skin. I let him, my heart in my throat at the sight of this
man—this man I had fought with for weeks—taking care of me. He kneeled

down and started washing my legs, my thighs, between my legs . . . then he

stopped. His head snapped up. I stiffened. I knew what he must have seen. I

stepped back, suddenly awash with embarrassment. But Tanner didn’t let

me move. He kept tight hold of my leg. His face was stern, and there was
tension in his eyes.

I held my head high. Tanner stared at me, the shower washing away the

blood to reveal his face, the one I was sure was now imprinted in my brain.
I couldn’t read what was going through his mind, but he pulled me closer
again and delicately, almost reverently, began washing between my legs.

My stomach flipped, but I pushed the feeling away. I wouldn’t allow myself

to be too drawn in to this man. I had to stop any emotion rooting its way
into this moment.

Tanner stood and looked down at me. I didn’t want him to say anything. I
didn’t want to have a conversation about what I knew was on his mind, so,

“My turn,” I said in a betraying fragile voice. Taking the soap from his

hand, I moved it to his chest and started cleaning away the blood. This
close I could see each of the tattoos in detail. So many tattoos of hate and

prejudice drowning his skin. I couldn’t imagine harboring a hate that deep.

It must consume his soul. Rip the joy from his life and darken any light or
happiness that tries to push through. I ran the soap over his chest, his abs,

and his stomach, and I saw them. Felt them. Scars. Tanner had scars
everywhere, routes of raised skin like road maps under the tattoos that hid

them from view. I didn’t show that I was aware of them. Instead I kept

cleaning his body. And the more I cleaned, the more scars I discovered.
Most were on his back and chest. Places where most people would not have

seen them. I didn’t need to wonder who had given them to him. After what
I’d seen in the hallway last night, I knew it must have been his father. I

knew in my heart it was him. Tanner had stood there, a grown man, and let
his father beat him. That had to come from years of being conditioned to do

so. Years and years of beatings and abuse.

The wave of sympathy that crashed over me in that moment gutted me.
Invisible hands took hold of my heart and squeezed it like a vise, an iron

grip. I sneaked a peek at his face, at the stony expression he wore, eyes
focused as he watched me clean him—my sympathy for him only deepened.

Tanner Ayers was domineering, intimidating, and, frankly, terrifying in both

looks and personality. He had been made into this—the epitome of a hateful
man. Bigoted. Racist, capable of evil things. Carefully molded by his father

and his men into the perfect Nazi killing machine.

But right now, in this moment, with the discovery of hidden scars and the

gentleness he had toward me, I let myself wonder—if only for a fleeting

moment—if there was someone else inside of him. The promise of the man
he could have been if not for the Klan’s conditioning. If there was a man

who could love and laugh and feel . . . if there was a man who could share

his smile with the world.

“There,” I said, putting the soap back on the rack, breaking myself from

the rabbit hole I had found myself falling down. “All clean.” Tanner
reached over me and turned off the shower. He wrapped a towel around me,

and I had to close my eyes to rid myself of the butterflies that had started to

spread their wings in my stomach.

 Tanner released me and put a towel around himself. We stood silently, still
not knowing what to do. The aftermath of what had just happened was

awkward, cloying. Unable to take the tension, I said, “Come.” I held out my

hand, waiting for what Tanner would do. I could see, as clear as day, the
war on his face as he stared down at the simple offer of my touch as though

it were an open flame. I was about to lower it, burned, when, with a long

sigh, he reached out and slipped his large calloused hand into mine. The
first touch felt so warm, warmer still when his fingers entwined with mine

and he squeezed them tightly.

I led Tanner to the chair in front of the monitors. His attention

immediately went to the screens as he lowered himself down. Reluctantly

releasing his hand, I busied myself with getting the first aid kit together
from where it had spilled over the desk and floor earlier. My skin heated

again just from recalling how he’d pushed me back against the wall and
kissed me . . . then took me . . .

Tanner didn’t even flinch when I pressed a cotton ball covered in peroxide

to his wound. But he did turn his head from the monitors to watch me. I
didn’t like the silence, or the weight of his stare and what it did to the

rhythm of my heart. I didn’t like guessing what he was thinking. So I spoke

to fill the awkwardness. “I used to do this for my father when I was

younger.” I smiled at the memory, moving the bandages and gauzes to the
table beside us. “When he still took matters into his own hands.” I

shrugged. “Before he got older and decided his paid but loyal men should

do his dirty deeds for him.” I dried the clean skin around the wounds. “It
looks like the bullet went straight through.”

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Twenty. Just turned.” Tanner nodded. I wondered if he thought me too

young. I didn’t feel it. “This life . . .” I said. “It makes you older than your

years.” It bothered me that I was trying to explain myself to Tanner. But

then he understood. Only people who walked the dangerous road this

underbelly life awarded would ever understand.

Repeating the same process with the exit wound, I nodded at the screens.
“You seem to be familiar with all of this.”

Tanner’s face was stone, but after a few tense seconds he said, “I was in
the army. Communications.” I lifted my head to find him already watching

me. Things started to make sense. It was how he was so stealthy in the

forest. And how he knew to apprehend that man and kill him so efficiently.
“When did you get out?”

“A while ago.”

I nodded my head and bandaged Tanner’s arm as best I could. “That

should help. My father will get his physicians to treat you tomorrow when

we are collected.”
 I went to the closet where my father kept emergency clothes and took out a

shirt and sweatpants for Tanner, and smaller versions for myself. In the
bathroom, I put on the clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. I blew out

a breath and checked myself over. I had stopped bleeding, at least. But I
was sore.

I couldn’t seem to regret what I’d done. That it had been Tanner Ayers who

had been my first. I was too tired and confused to even contemplate why
that should be the case, why I wasn’t chastising myself for my stupidity.

Busying myself to take me from my confusion, I combed my hair, feeling

bare and young without my makeup. Then I left the bathroom.

Tanner was lying on the pull-out bed opposite the monitors, his eyes glued

to the screens. The gun he had taken from our attacker lay beside him. The
emergency clothes were too small for his big frame, but they’d have to do.

I walked toward him. Tanner noticed me only when I was right in front

him. I slipped into the small bed beside him and felt him tense. I lay down,
staring up at the concrete ceiling.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

I didn’t need him to explain what he meant. It seemed my virginity—now

lack thereof—was the elephant in the room. Running my hands over my

face, I said, “Because I knew you’d stop if I did.” Tanner rolled over and
met my eyes, searching for something in their depths. I took a deep breath
and whispered, “And I wanted you.” I challenged him with a hard stare. I
wouldn’t be made to feel like a child. I made my decision. It was my body,

and my choice to make. It was one of the only choices I’d ever been given
the chance to make.

Tanner’s nostrils flared, then, seemingly unable to stop himself, he leaned

forward and wrapped his hand in my wet hair. He shifted his body over
mine and kissed me. But this kiss was unhurried . . . and it scared me more

than anything had in a very long time. I was the daughter of the biggest
cartel boss in Mexico, maybe the world, had threats against my life every

single day. Fear was a constant in my life, so much so that fear to me felt

like a low hum rather than an electric shock. But Tanner Ayers, the Ku Klux
Klan heir, kissing me with this much feeling and affection . . . it was the

most terrifying thing I’d ever felt.

Because I felt it. I felt it all. All the right in this wrongful act. Felt his soft
lips on mine, his mint taste on my tongue, and his heavy, scarred body

holding me down.
The kiss grew and grew until Tanner had taken my shirt over my head and

pulled my pants off my legs. When he was naked again too, I placed my

hand on his cheek and, needing some sense of self-preservation, said, “You
leave tomorrow.” Tanner looked away across the room at nothing, then

nodded. “I am Mexican. You are KKK. You know we cannot mix.” Tanner
gritted his teeth, but he nodded again. “Our fathers would kill us if they

knew.” His expression was furious—I wasn’t sure if it was at that truth, my
words, or the fact that he was here, willingly touching and sleeping with a

woman from what he deemed an inferior race.

Tanner’s hand skirted along my cheek, and my heart beat faster like the
turncoat it was around this forbidden man. His hand journeyed to my neck,

then toward my breast. Before his fingers could reach their destination, I
caught his wrist in my hand. Tanner’s tortured gaze collided with mine. The

hunger I saw there, more heightened and intense than before, was my

undoing. “Tonight,” I whispered, my voice shaking at the fact that I was

stupidly going to allow this again. “All we have is tonight, in this room.

Tomorrow you’ll be gone, and when our paths cross again they will be for
business only. That should give you enough time to forget you ever betrayed

your race for one night with me.” The truth of the words stung.

Tanner must have seen a crack in my armor, as his eyes narrowed. I

wondered what he would say in defense. Instead, like the fortress he was, he

nodded his head and said, “Done.”

Tanner’s wrist in my hand hung suspended in the air. I should have

stopped it. I told myself it was degrading to give myself to such a man. But

then I told myself that it was good that I had—Tanner would never forgive
himself for this perceived act of weakness. I would be a chink in the Klan
knight’s armor. One he could never repair. It gave me a sick kind of pleasure
to know that I, a Mexican woman, had weakened him enough to abandon

his beliefs and take me. That once hadn’t been enough.
But the truth was . . . I wanted him. Titles and families aside. Right now, I

wanted this man. I couldn’t explain the madness of that truth, but it was the

truth nonetheless. Exhaling, decision made, I lowered his hand to my

breast. Tanner released a quick breath as he covered my flesh, the simple

feel of it almost breaking me apart. Tanner glanced up at me for a second,

then brought his lips to mine. Like before, they were desperate, as if he was
more than aware, just as I was, that our time was finite. And he took me. He

took me over and over again through the night, until we were retrieved the
next day and the Ayerses left for America.

Tanner Ayers fucked me knowing exactly what that night was—the only

night a white prince and cartel princess could have each other. No race, no
culture, no hate, no business. Just two bodies, joining as one. But then it

was over. And he was gone . . . until two months later, when he returned . . .

*****

Present day . . .
“Lita?”

I blinked, my attention snapping away from the mirror. My hands were

joined at my stomach just to stop them from shaking. Hearing Charley’s

voice, I took in a deep breath and blinked away the tears that were

threatening to fall. Not a day went by that I didn’t think of that first night
with Tanner. The night that changed it all. “Lita?” Charley said again. This

time it was softer. The concern was clear in her voice.

Turning, I tried to smile at my best friend, but I could see she saw through
the cracks. She took my hands and guided me off the pedestal that Carmen

had set up before the mirror. The train of the dress followed behind me.
Charley sat on my couch. I sat down too and wiped my tears. “I’m being

pathetic,” I said and laughed. “I have no idea what is wrong with me.”

“It’s me, Lita. You don’t have to be Adela Quintana right now. I know
you. You can cry because you’re apprehensive. You don’t have to be the

hardened princesa around me.”

I stared at Charley. I wanted to tell her everything. Get it all off my chest

to someone other than Luis, who I felt had, in a way, turned against me. At

least, he thought it was unwise to still hold on to hope for Tanner and me.
But I couldn’t stop. No matter if all was lost, I would never give up on us.

Even though all hope was gone.

I straightened my spine. “It’s just nerves.”

 Charley rubbed my hands. She was kind like that, but very like me in the
way she wanted more for herself than to be some man’s showpiece. In our

world there weren’t many women like that. She was going to be my

bridesmaid. My only one.

Charley pointed at my dress. “And should you be wearing that now? You

get married tomorrow. You don’t want it to be damaged.”

I ran my hand down the white silk. “Selena, the designer, has just made

the final adjustments. I dismissed her.” I shrugged. “I guess I just wanted to

see myself in it without anyone else around.”

I could see the sympathy in Charley’s eyes. “It’s late. Has your father been

to see you?”

I nodded. He had been two hours ago to tell me how proud he was. Your
mother would have been so proud of you, Adela. So proud . . . like me.

You’ve picked a good man, princesa, a good man . . .

But I hadn’t picked him. My father had. He had railroaded me into the

relationship just like he railroaded me into everything else. Then, when my

father had left, Diego had been by too, the excitement for tomorrow clear in
his eyes. I can’t wait to have you tomorrow, Adelita. To have you under

me . . . finally.
“I’m tired,” I said and sighed. Charley knew I was lying. But mercifully,

she didn’t say anything. She leaned in and kissed my cheek.

 “You’re sure you don’t want me to stay with you?”

“I’m sure,” I said. “But thank you. I . . . I just need to be alone.” With a

tight hug, Charley went to leave my room. “Charley?” I called. She turned.
“Could you make sure no one else disturbs me until morning? That they

know I need time alone? Please?” Charley nodded and left.

In her wake, I locked all the doors to my bedroom so no one else could

come in. I walked back to the mirror and gazed at myself in the dress. And I

imagined it all differently. I imagined it was Tanner I would meet at the end
of the aisle. I imagined it was his face that would watch me walk toward

him.
I turned away from the mirror and lay down on my bed. Closing my eyes,

I let the tears fall. I let the salty drops fall onto the lace of the dress, my pain

woven into the delicate fabric. Good. I wanted tomorrow to be ruined. I

wanted to burn the bastard wedding to the ground.

Hours ticked by, and darkness enveloped the room. My eyes felt bruised

from the tears I had shed. My eyelids had started to fall, sleep closing in,
when I heard a clicking sound from the hidden door in my wall. The door

behind a tapestry. My eyes sprang open and my heart started thundering in

my chest.

Only a couple of people knew of the underground tunnels. One of whom

was . . . “Mi amor?” I whispered. Hope and fear mixed into one heady
cocktail as I felt a warm draft dance over the exposed skin on my back.
Warm air from the open hidden door.

Someone was behind me. They were silent, but I felt them there. My

hands fisted into the sheet beneath me. “You came,” I whispered, feeling
my chest swell with relief. “You came for me before it was too late.”

Only silence followed. Taking a deep breath, I turned on the bed, just as

something pricked my neck. A man dressed in black with midnight eyes

stood before me. I went to scream, but a hand came over my mouth,

muffling any noise. Instinct kicked in, and I started fighting back against the
intruder. I kicked out my leg, hitting him in the stomach. I hit his muscled

arms with my fists. Pure fear made me sink my nails into his skin, clawing

and clawing, tying to throw him off. But with every kick and punch I felt
my muscles getting weaker, losing strength. My neck. He’d injected

something into my neck. Panic, thick and deep, surged through my veins.

But I had nothing left in me to fight with. Black spots danced in my eyes,
blurring my vision. My kidnapper picked me up and headed for the secret

tunnel. The last thing I saw was the reflection in the large wall mirror: a
man dressed in black leather, carrying me, a stolen bride, away into the

night . . .

. . . and then it all went black.

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Five

Styx

We walked out of Flame and Maddie’s bedroom in their cabin. He was

getting better. Still sedated and would be for a few more days, but he would

pull through.
Ash sat on the couch, playing poker with Zane and Slash. The three

prospects were as thick as fucking thieves. “We’re out,” Ky said as we

passed them.

Just as I set foot out of the cabin, my cell rang. “We have her.” AK’s voice
came through the loudspeaker, so Ky could hear and respond.

“Good. Now, get the fuck back. And don’t hesitate to take out any assholes

that get on your tail. We need that cartel slut back here,” Ky said. “We have
Diablos and some of our other chapters near every check-in point. You

don’t call to say you’re good, they’ll be there. If this war goes to the road,

then so fucking be it. We’re all on standby.”

“On it.” AK hung up.

Ky looked my way. “A few days and they’ll be here.” He paused. “Then

the real fucking war will start. You ready for this, Prez?”

The fire that war always sparked in me flared to life. “B-born ready.”
 Ky punched my arm, smiling his fucking Hollywood smile. Prick was

getting a hard-on at the thought of killing. Fuck, none of us sinners could

stop the adrenaline from surging at the thought of taking some of these Klan

and cartel fuckers out . . . For me it would be slowly, with my German

blade.
As we walked to Ky’s truck, Viking and Rudge were by the fire pit outside

the Psycho Trio’s cabins. Viking had a bloody nose. Both of them were bare

chested. Rudge smiled at us, his knuckles red from where he’d clearly

smashed Viking in the face. These assholes were tapped in the head.

“Foreplay?” Ky asked, leaning against the truck. “If so, wait until I’m gone
before you bend Vike over, Rudge.”

“Hey!” Vike said, licking the blood from his lip. “Why would I be the

bottom?”

Ky stared at Vike, assessing him. “Just get that vibe from you, brother.”

I wondered if the red giant would argue back, but he just shrugged and

tossed another log on the fire. Nothing ever affected the fucker. “Rudge is

teaching me how to bare-knuckle box.”

“Looks like you’re winning,” Ky said sarcastically, pointing at his bruising

eye and split lip.

“This?” Vike wiped his nose. “Nah, just let the wanker get in a few for

luck.” Vike said “wanker” in a British accent. The guy was a total damn
train wreck. “Besides, I get off on being hit.” He winked at us. “Like the

rough stuff, you know? It’s no fun if blood and punches ain’t involved.”

“You speak the gospel, brother.” Rudge started shadow-boxing around Ky.

Ky glared at him out of the corner of his eye, then quickly swiped out and

knocked the fucker to the ground. Rudge, being as unstable as he was, just

laughed, his teeth covered in blood from his own now-split lip. I smirked,
slapping my best friend on the back. Rudge jumped to his feet.

“Touch me and die,” Ky warned. Rudge pretended to close in on Ky. I was

sure my VP was gonna kill the fucker on the spot. Then, laughing, Rudge

moved back to Vike, and the giant ginger threw his arm around his neck.

“Your prez not calling you back to London town?” Ky folded his arms.

“You know you’re not actually required to be here, right?”

Rudge put his hand over his Union Jack tattoo. “Ky, my brother, my mate,

I’d never leave you guys in this war alone.”

“Seriously, you can. In fact, I’ll buy your fucking plane ticket if you just

wanna fuck off back to the Big Smoke.”

Rudge came over and put his hand on Ky’s shoulder. My best friend wore

death in his eyes. “My prez told me to take all the time I needed over here

with our mother chapter. Actually . . .” Rudge smiled a shit-eating grin.

“Been thinking about Austin as a permanent thing.” He rubbed his hand

over his chin. “Just mulling shit over right now, but I’m getting a good feel
for Hangmen HQ here in good ol’ Texas.” His face turned serious. “I think

you guys need some Barnaby Rudge in your lives. Reckon it’d be dull as

fuck out here without me.”

“You serious?” Vike said from across the fire pit.

“Like I said, I’m mulling shit over.”

“Yes!” Vike shouted, jumping on Rudge from behind and taking him to

the floor. I grabbed Ky by the collar of his cut and made him get in the

truck, ignoring the fucking idiots punching each other’s faces in celebration

near the fire.

“That prick’ll give me a fucking heart attack. English douchebag,” Ky

spat. We were silent on the way back to my cabin. Kept my cell near just in

case we got a call from AK.

Ky dropped me off at home, promising to tell me if he heard anything

from AK and the rest of the brothers. When I walked through the door, I

couldn’t see Mae anywhere. “Mae?” I shouted, kicking off my boots and

grabbing a beer from the fridge. There was food on the stove, so I knew she

was here somewhere.

I checked every room until I found her in the back room we never used. It

was just full of junk, and a bunch of club shit I inherited when my old man

took the trip to the boatman. A familiar-looking trunk was open, and Mae
was curled up on a dusty old chair, reading some kind of leather-backed

book. “Styx!” Her hand flew to her chest. “You scared me.”

Leaning down, I gripped her hair and took her mouth. As always, my bitch

melted into me. She tasted of chocolate. I broke away, took a sip of my

beer, and asked, “W-what’s th-this?”

Guilt flashed in her wolf eyes. “Don’t be mad.” She rubbed her stomach. It

was huge now. My kid was big, if the doc Mae was seeing had it right. Mae

was only small. I wasn’t sure how she was gonna get our kid out. My chest

tightened. It fucking terrified me. The thought of anything happening to

either of them kept me awake at night. “But I decided to clean out this
room. Apparently it is called nesting. Getting ready for the baby.” She

rubbed her stomach again. “Anyway, I found this trunk and started looking

through it to see if it was worth keeping.” I frowned, trying to remember

what was in it. There seemed to be about twenty different trunks and boxes

in this room.

Mae went to get to her feet. I held out my hand and helped her up off the

chair. She laughed, and the fucking sound of it was still the best thing I’d

ever heard. I pulled her close and put my hand on her stomach. Just as I did,

Charon moved around. I couldn’t help but smirk. “He knows his papa

already.” Mae’s head fell to my chest. She looked up at me, and her lip

twisted. She was nervous.

 “Wh-what?”

“It—the trunk—seems to be all your mama’s possessions. What was left

after . . . after she died. Her journals go up until she came back here.

Including the ones written after she had run away . . .” Right up until my

pop shot her in the fucking head in front of me, I wanted to say, but I held

back. My stomach tightened when I looked at the trunk. I remembered it

then. Recognized the old brown leather and her faded name on the front.

But then my veins frosted with ice. I didn’t want to know a thing more

about that slut. I’d forgotten I still had the trunk. Hadn’t thought of my

mama in years. And if I ever did, I fucking rid myself of the memory

straight away. Fuck that shit.

But looking at that trunk, I remembered it. Remembered how I’d hidden it

after she’d been shot. Sneaked it away from my old man so he wouldn’t

find it.

Then never thought of it again.

“B-burn them,” I said. Mae’s head shot up. Her mouth was parted in

shock. “D-don’t want a-anything of that s-slut’s. Burn them.”

“River.” Mae shook her head disapprovingly. Her voice soft, she added,
“She was your mother.”

I stepped back. Mae’s hands fell from my waist. Anger fucking ate at my

stomach, and I had to breathe deeply just to calm the fuck down. “No. Sh-
she wasn’t. She f-fucking left me for the D-Diablos. She didn’t give a f-

fuck about me.”

Mae’s eyes filled with tears. “She did, River.” Mae picked a journal up off

the top of the trunk and brought it over to me. “If you read them, I think you

may understand her more.”

Mae’s huge fucking wolf eyes locked onto mine, and some of my anger

faded. “B-babe,” I said, and pushed my hand through her hair. I stepped

closer, but I stopped when I got to the bump. It was now so big I couldn’t
get my wife as close to me as I wanted. “I d-don’t give a shit a-about that

wh-whore.” I grabbed the journal from her hand and held up the tattered
pages. “And y-you sh-shouldn’t either.”

I tossed it to the trunk, then kissed Mae on the mouth and backed away to
go into my office.

“She lived this life.”

Confused, I turned around. Mae had the journal back in her hand. She

came closer, a nervous look on her fucking gorgeous face.

“She had a baby in this outlaw life.” Mae ducked her head. “She had a

baby boy with the president of the Hangmen.”

Something tugged in my chest at the shake in Mae’s voice. I pulled her
closer to me and waited for her to look up. “I-I’m n-nothing like my old

man.” I believed it. I fucking did. But I knew it wasn’t entirely true. Fuck, I
killed whoever got in my way, and felt fuck-all emotion over it. I ran this
club with an iron fist, and I had no problem killing anyone who turned

against it. But I had Mae. And my asswipe of a father never gave a shit
about anyone but himself. Hell, he shot my mother one minute, and the next

slapped me on the back and went to the bar so he could sink his dick into
the slut he’d told to wait there for him while he did so.

Taking Mae’s cheeks in my hand, I stared into her eyes. She looked
fucking scared. Mae tried to dip her head, but I didn’t let her. “Wh-what?”
Mae released a deep breath. “She had you in the middle of a war.” My

fucking stomach fell as Mae’s eyes filled with tears. “She had the same
fears I do.” Her shoulders sagged, then whispered, “Of losing you. Of being

killed herself, being a target . . .” She held her stomach, lip trembling. “Of
them coming for Charon . . . of us losing each other. Of not having the life

we’ve dreamed of for so long.” Mae swallowed. Her face had gone white.
She was fucking shaking. It fucking cut me in half to see her this way. “I

just feel . . . I just feel that since we found each other again, there has been
so much happening. Helping my sisters find freedom, the threats to the

club, and now this war.” Mae’s breathing hitched, and she rubbed her
stomach, where she kept our son safe. “Now that we have Charon, I feel

fear so much more strongly now. We have more to lose. I can’t bear the
thought of anything happening to him . . . to any of us.”
 Untapped rage rushed forward as I thought of anything like that
happening. “N-no one will touch you. Either of you. I-I’ll f-fucking k-kill t-

them if th-they t-try t-to, I—”

I cut my words off when my stutter became so bad that I couldn’t fucking

speak. How the fuck could I assure Mae that nothing would happen to her
when I couldn’t even speak?

“Shh.” Mae put her hand on my cheek. “I love you, River Nash. But more
than that, I trust you. I know you would never let anyone hurt us. You’re a

good husband. You’re a fierce president . . . but more importantly, you’ll be

an excellent father.”

Out of everything Mae said, that was the one thing that hit me. Because
the truth was, I was like my father—Shade “The Reaper” Nash. I was like

him in so many ways . . . and he was a shitty dad. What the fuck did I have
to offer a kid? What—

“You are not him, and you are too good to treat your son as he did you.” I
stared at the fucking conviction in Mae’s eyes and let go of some of the
poison in my veins. But a trace always remained. Because neither of my

parents had given two shits about me. I was about to be a dad, and the only
references I had were a prick who beat me and a slut who left me with a

man she fucking despised. What the hell did that say about her? About
either of them?
 “I never knew I could love anyone the way I love him. I didn’t believe it

was possible. Dark brown hair, chubby cheeks, and perfect lips. Right now
he has dark blue eyes that I could stare into for days, but I know that color

can change.” I turned my head, confused as to what Mae was talking about.
Then I realized. She was reading aloud from the journal. My heart kicked

into a sprint. These were my mother’s words . . .

“I never want to let him go. I keep the door to Shade’s room in the club
locked so that nothing bad can ever come near him. So this club can’t

pollute him. At least not yet.” Mae’s voice wavered, and I had to swallow a
fucking lump that was building in my throat. “Is it normal to be unable to

ever look away from your child like this? To want to shield him from all the
bad, and only give him the good? Because I must do that. Whatever it takes,

I will protect him and keep him safe. My baby, my River . . . my baby boy
who now owns my whole heart, will be safe from this life. From his father.

I have to find a way . . .” Mae wiped at her cheeks while I stood in the
hallway like a statue. Mae looked at me. “She loved you, Styx. She loved

you so much that on some of the pages the ink is smudged from where
she’d been crying as she emptied her heart into the journal.”

I couldn’t fucking speak. I knew no words would come out of my mouth

right now even if I tried. Mae came to me and took my hand. “She was

sixteen when she first met your father. He was thirty-two. He got her
pregnant not long afterward. She was a lost soul. Had run away from

home.” My jaw clenched. I didn’t want to hear this. I knew shit about my
mother, and never wanted to know. She went to the boatman when I was

ten, but left me long before that. Of course, that didn’t stop Mae. She just
fucking barreled on like she’d barreled into my life. Bitch was the only one

who I’d let get away with this shit. Mae’s hand pressed against my face.
“She ran away from home when she couldn’t take any more of the abuse.” I

froze. Mae’s expression fell to one of sympathy. Because my old lady knew
what abuse felt like, had the scars on her thighs to prove it. Of course, there

were all kinds of abuse. She must have seen that question in my eyes.
“Sexual abuse, Styx. Abuse like I endured.”

My hands fell away from Mae, and I had to step back. My fingers curled
into fists and my jaw clenched. “It was her older brother,” Mae said. I

closed my eyes and just tried to fucking breathe. I may have been a stone-
cold killer, one of the most lethal Hangmen to ever wear the Dark Lord on
his cut, but this club didn’t tolerate that shit. In fact, I’d rip the rancid cock

off any fucker I knew did.

Happily.

Especially after Mae . . . after seeing what she and her sisters went
through. What it did to them, how it fucking destroyed them for most of

their lives. Kept a part of them forever fucked up.

 But my mother . . . the woman I barely remembered and never tried to.
The one who left me to the fists and daily ridicule of my father . . . My

mother had a brother. Something else I never knew.

“He was a lot older than her. Her mother and father weren’t around much.
Her father was lost to drugs, and her mother killed herself when your

mother was only nine.” Mae took a deep breath. “Styx . . . she was only
eight when he raped her for the first time. Her older brother. He was

sixteen.” I saw that look in Mae’s eyes, the one that showed pain and . . .
fuck . . . sympathy, because she knew exactly what that felt like. She’d been

eight too when that bastard Brother Jacob had raped her in that joke of a
cult.

“M-Mae.” I shook my head and picked up my beer from the table next to
me. I downed it and tossed the bottle in the trash. “St-stop.”

Mae’s shoulders sagged. She held that fucking journal against her chest
like she was scared I’d toss it in the fire if she let it go. She was right. I

would. I didn’t wanna know shit about my mother. A shitty life was no
excuse for leaving me behind for the Diablo prez. Fuck, I had to work

alongside Chavez most days now. It was his old man my mother had
shacked up with.

I didn’t wanna fucking know.

 Kissing Mae again, I went into my office and shut the door. I slumped
behind my desk and took a long fucking breath. My cell buzzed.

Ky: They’ve made it to the first check-in.

Me: Good. Any trouble?

Ky: Not yet. But we’ll no doubt hear the alarm come morning when
Quintana realizes the bride has been taken.

A sick kind of smile spread on my lips. I wanted that fucker to suffer. I

wanted him to know I was coming for him and that his days were

numbered. I rubbed my hand over my head, then texted back.

Me: Good.

The email intercepted by Chavez and Shadow, explaining what the cartel
planned to do to us in an attack, lay on my desk. I looked down, and I felt

like punching the fucking wall when I read the section that had stood out to
me.
Take the mute’s slut of a wife and unborn kid and sell them to the contact.
They’ve been looking for someone like her. But make the mute watch her

being beaten to within an inch of her life before you slit his throat and burn
that fucking club to the ground. Nazis are taking too long as always. We’ll
kill them in one quick attack.
My heart slammed in my chest as I tried to calm the fuck down. I reached

for a smoke and the Beam that I kept in my desk drawer. I took a long drag.
The python in my throat was like a vise, choking me the fuck out. I shut my
eyes, but all I could see was Mae in some Mexican’s arms, Charon in her

belly, as she was kicked to shit. And me, held back by the cunts, unable to
do a fucking thing about it.
I pushed back from the desk and marched to the living room. I stopped in
the doorway. Mae lay asleep on the couch, with that journal open on her
chest. Moving her shoulders, I sat down and laid her head on my knee. My

hand trailed through her hair. Still as long as it ever was. Still just as black.
My own fucking Persephone.
She only got more beautiful by the day.
Mae’s stomach shifted. I reached out and laid my hand over her dress, my

lips hooking into a smile when I felt my son kick my hand again. I exhaled
a long breath as my hand moved upward and landed on the journal. I stared
at that leather book like it was a fucking grenade.
“Get the fuck in here, Mute,” my pop said. He walked back into his office.

“What the fuck d’you do now?” Ky asked.

Shrugging, I walked into the office. I didn’t know.
“Shut the door,” Pop ordered.
I did as he said, then I heard someone suck in a breath. I looked over to

see a slut in the corner of the room. She’d been beaten up. She had blood on
her face and was crouched on the floor. “River?” she whispered. My
stomach rolled at the sound of my real name.

I frowned. My pop laughed. “Don’t recognize her, kid?” He shrugged.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve rearranged her face. Or maybe it’s because you
were so young when she betrayed us for Diablo cock.” He paused, and I
knew it was so whatever he said next would punch me harder. “It’s your slut

of a mama.”
My eyes widened as shock cut through me. “Mama?” I wanted to say, but
my throat wouldn’t work. I couldn’t fucking speak!
“Kid’s still a retard. Actually . . .” My pop laughed. I couldn’t stop looking

at my mama. She started crawling toward me. I wanted to go to her, but

when I tried to move, my pop said, “One more step, kid, and I’ll make sure
you don’t wake up for a week.”
I stopped dead, because that was a promise I knew he’d keep. He’d done
that before. I wasn’t going through that shit again. Pop turned back to my

mama, whose eye was closed with bruising. “Like I said, he’s still a retard.
Can’t speak for shit. But it got worse when you left.” I glared at my pop. I
fucking hated him at times. He smiled at me. Sometimes I wanted to punch
him so hard. “You made him st-st-stutter. My fucking heir to this kingdom,

nothing more than a useless little mute cunt. Who the fuck is ever gonna be
scared of him? How the fuck will he ever lead my Hangmen when I’m
gone?” My pop shrugged. “The fucker takes after you. Weak-as-piss

retard.”
“River.” My mama reached out for me. I felt my throat getting thicker, and
tears built in my eyes. But I couldn’t cry. Pop would beat me if I dared cry.
In a second my pop was off his chair and gripping my mama’s hair. He
yanked her to her feet. Mama screamed, but Pop didn’t care. “She left you,

kid. Don’t let her crawling on her slut knees, calling you by that piece-of-
shit name she gave you, fool you. She fucking left you for a Diablo.” I
frowned. We didn’t like the Diablos. They hated us and we hated them. My
pop told me that one day soon he was gonna catch one and give me my first

kill. He said that another war with them was coming. It hadn’t been long
since the last one ended.
“River,” my mama said. “I can explain, baby. I’ve come back for—”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch.” Pop punched my mama in the stomach. Her legs

buckled, but Pop’s hold on her hair kept her upright. Pop looked at me
again. “She left you, kid. She chose her new man over us. She’s back now
because he saw through her pathetic shit and doesn’t want her anymore.
Or . . .” He turned her and slapped her across the face. I stepped forward,

ready to stop him, but Pop smiled at me over her shoulder. I knew that look
on his face. I didn’t dare move anymore. My heart was beating so fast, and
all I wanted to do was rip her out of his arms and run away. “Or have you

come here for that cunt? Has he sent you in as a mole?”

“No!” Mama cried. My pop turned her around until she faced me. Mama
held out her hand. “River . . . I’m so sorry . . .” she whispered, but before
she could finish what she was saying, Pop put a gun to her head and pulled

the trigger. My eyes snapped shut as the bang thundered around the room.
When I opened my eyes again, Mama was on the floor, blood pouring from
her head. But her hand was still stretched out in my direction, and her eyes
were open . . . and looking right at me.

“Mama . . .” I whispered. I felt a tear on my cheek.

Pop walked past me and slapped me across the face. “Cut the pussy
fucking tears, Styx. That slut was nothing but trouble from the first time she
spread her legs for me. Sanchez sent her to start the war. And it worked. She
didn’t want you, kid. She didn’t love you. This was all bullshit, and she was

using us to get in further with the Diablos. She’s going to the boatman with
no coins on her eyes. She can wander lost for eternity. It’s what the whore
deserves.” My pop slapped me on the back, then left the room. I stared at
my mama until the prospects came in to move the body. I stared at her blood

drying on the floor until someone came in and cleaned it.

She didn’t want me.
She’d only come back to start a war.
 She was a fucking whore, like my pop said.

And I hated her for going off with Sanchez. I hated her for leaving. But
most of all, I hated her for not loving me enough to stay . . . or at least take
me with her . . .
Mae shifted, snapping me from the memory of that day, and moved closer

to me on my lap. I looked down at my hands; they were fucking shaking.

Asshole, I said in my head. Pop was right—you’re a fucking weak-as-piss
retard. I closed my eyes and got my breathing under control. I was the
fucking Hangmen Mute—I didn’t feel this shit. Especially over a slut who

didn’t want me.

Mae’s arms wrapped around my waist, and the journal fell to my side, the
spine digging into my hip. I took in a deep breath and breathed out through
my nose. I clenched my jaw, fucking ready to rip out my own traitorous

brain as the memory I’d tried to forget still played on a loop in my head.
Doubt was starting to creep up my back. Had she come back for me? Had
she come to take me from Pop and all the shit he put me through?
Mae sighed. “I love you, River.”

River . . . River . . . River . . .

I took another mouthful of Beam and swallowed it down, feeling it burn a
path from my chest to my stomach . . . then, like the weak piece of shit I
was, I picked up the fucking journal. My hand shook as I held it.
 Like I said, he’s still a retard. Can’t speak for shit. But it got worse when
you left . . .
Had it? I couldn’t fucking remember ever speaking right. Then again, I
didn’t have many memories before that night—just a blur of hanging with

Ky and avoiding my old man’s fists. But I remembered watching my pop

put a slug through my mama’s head with crystal clarity. I remembered her
dead, open eyes and the smell of her blood. And I remembered hiding the
trunk she’d brought with her in my room, in my closet. I’d never seen what

was inside, and forgot all about it . . . until today.

I stared into nothing, just listening to Mae breathing, for a good few hours.
Until I opened the journal and stared at my mama’s handwriting. It was
messy, but if what Mae had read was true, it sounded like she wasn’t from a
good background. I didn’t even know if she’d gone to school.

I didn’t mean to start reading. But I did. With Mae in my lap and our boy
in her belly, I read about the woman I’d always been told was nothing more
than a slut, a shitty excuse for a mother.
Shade Nash was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. The minute I saw

him, and he smiled my way, I was his . . .

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Six

Tanner

“Shit, darlin’. You’re making me nervous with all that leg twitching and
hand rubbing. You okay?” Beauty pointed her knife at me over the table.

“Don’t even try to tell me my brisket ain’t good, because then I’ll know
you’re a liar, Tanner Ayers. And I don’t tolerate liars.”

Beauty’s voice ripped me from my head. Her eyes were narrowed

suspiciously on me, which made me smirk. “Nah, Beauty. You know your

brisket is the best.”

She smiled and sat up straight, shaking her shoulders. “That’s what all the

boys tell me.”

Tank raised his eyebrows at his woman. “All the boys?” he said dryly.
Beauty tapped Tank’s cheek with her red-taloned finger. “You know I

weren’t no virgin before you came riding into my life, darlin’. So yeah, a

few boys have tasted my brisket . . . ” She leaned closer to my best friend.
“And they fucking loved the taste . . . as do you.” Beauty got up from the

table, winking at me before getting us some more beers from the fridge.

“Tann?” Tank asked. “You thinking of Adelita?” His head tipped to the

side as he watched me. Tank sighed. “Tann. Fucking speak. Fucking say
something! How the fuck are you still not telling me a thing?”

“She’ll know by now. She’ll know her cousin has been taken.”

Tank’s eyes narrowed. “She’ll understand in time.” I ran my hands down

my face. I wasn’t so sure she would understand. Tank didn’t know Adelita.

She’d be pissed at me. Pissed I didn’t stop it. But what the fuck else was I
supposed to do?

“You not feeling the club anymore?” Tank asked quietly. “You’re not

wanting out, are you?”

My stomach fell. “Fuck no.” I meant every word. Of course, I wasn’t sure

how the rest of my brothers felt about me and Adelita. Didn’t know if Styx
still wanted me around after I kept this from him. “I’m good,” I said. Tank

looked as though he didn’t believe a fucking thing I was saying. “Tank . . .

It’s the first time I’ve ever felt like I belong somewhere. Everything else in

my life has gone to shit. But I want in this club. Never fucking doubt that.”

I cleared my throat, changing the subject. “You heard anything from AK

and the others?”

Tank stared at me for a bit too long. But then said, “They’re almost home.
Clean retrieval.”

But I knew Quintana. He’d be losing his shit, and no doubt planning on

bringing hell to the Hangmen’s door. I could only imagine Adelita. The

fucking fire that lived in her igniting over this. How that fuck Diego would
use it as the excuse he needed to truly bring the force of the Quintana

family to Texas.

“You know—” Tank started to say, when suddenly our cells went off. I

ripped mine from my pocket and read the text. “They’re back.” Tank got to

his feet, went over to Beauty, and kissed her. “Gotta go to church, beauty

queen.”
Beauty slapped Tank’s ass as we walked out. “Gonna go see Mae.” Tank

waved over his shoulder, and we jumped on our bikes. My heart pounded as

I tore up the few miles of road between Tank’s place and the club. The gates

were open, the prospects waving us through. The second I parked up, I was

off my bike and gunning it to church. I stood at the back of the room and

waited impatiently for everyone to get the fuck in.

When the door was closed, Ky spoke. I held my breath as he looked each

of us in the eyes. Then he smiled. “We got her.” The brothers nodded their

heads, and the excitement built in the room.

“This means war is imminent, right? Actual tearing fuckers apart?” Rudge
said from next to Vike and Bull. Bull’s eyes were fixed on Ky. Fuck,

everyone’s were. “I feel the need to cut up some cartel flesh,” Rudge added.

Styx hands started to sign. “We’re gonna let the fucker stew for a while.

Left no trace it was us.” Ky paused as Styx’s hands stopped. Styx looked at

me. “Tanner said no one knew about those tunnels.” Styx’s lip curled in a
sort of smirk. “They might question if it was us.” He sat back. “But they’ll

question the Klan more. They would know we got no way to know those

underground getaways. And let’s just say Shadow was good at laying a trail
that might lead them back to Governor Ayers’s door.”

My breathing stopped for a second when I thought of my brother having to

take on the cartel and the Hangmen. Then I pushed him from my head. I

had to let that shit go. Beau wasn’t the brother I used to know. If he fell

under the cartel, then that was the way it had to be. But the pain in my chest

never left.

“And the cartel slut-bride?” Cam, a member of the Frisco chapter, asked.

“Where’s she? What’s the plan with her?”

Styx lifted his hands. “She’s in the warehouse. We take shifts watching

her.” My heart beat so fucking loud I barely heard Ky talk to me when he

translated, “Tanner. We need you on cameras, so you need to push the

connection to your bitch shit aside and focus on the job. Need more

surveillance setting up. Quintana is gonna come in strong when he

discovers it’s us.” He paused, glaring at me. “I find out you’ve been going

against orders, I’ll knock you out myself.” I nodded. Bastard.

Styx addressed Tank. “Need Beauty in on this. Need her around to deal

with the cartel whore.”

 “Done,” Tank said. I caught his suspicious eyes, but I looked away. Beauty

was in. I could use that. I could get intel on Adelita from Beauty . . .

somehow.

Styx went to sign again, but the door to church opened and AK walked in.

The brother was covered in dirt. That’s what you’d get after three days on

the back roads from Mexico. AK looked at Ky and Styx. “She’s awake.”

AK shook his head. “And fuck, but that slut is tapped. Spewing Spanish at

us and trying like fuck to get free.”

I knew the plan. Shadow would have drugged her until they got home,

Edge watching her to be sure they didn’t kill her or some stupid shit like
that.

“Nice.” Vike rubbed his hands. “Love me a feisty Latina. I’ll take the first

shift.” He got up.

“Sit the fuck down, Vike,” Ky said. Ky looked to Tank. “Get Beauty here.

You and Bull will take first shift.”

Tank nodded, and I knew this was my chance to see the cousin, whoever

she was.

“The bitch was in her wedding dress,” AK said and shook his head. “She’s

in that warehouse, in that fucking wedding dress, her nose stuck up in the

air like she’s the fucking Queen of England, hurling insults at us. Fuck
knows what she’s saying.” AK shrugged. “That bitch is pissed. Fucking

stunning, but pissed. Looks like Uncle Quintana taught her well.”

“I’m hard. Anyone else?” Vike said. “I like a slut who screams insults at

me. Shut your mouth, you ginger cunt. I’m gonna rip you a new asshole—

fuck, never were sweeter words spoken.”

Styx lifted his hands, ignoring him. “I have duties for y’all. We’re on high

alert. And warn your old ladies now: we hear one word that the cartel know

it’s us, and we’re on lockdown.” Heads nodded. Jokes stopped. Styx

slammed down the gavel.

Church was done.

Tank jumped on his bike and disappeared in the direction of the

warehouse. I ducked into my bedroom and searched the cameras. I focused

on the ones around the warehouse, seeing the moment Bull and Tank

arrived to relieve Crow. Slash, Ash, and Zane were there too. I needed to

get cameras inside the warehouse. Fuck my orders and the threat of Styx’s

fists, I was speaking to that bitch about Lita.

I upgraded what I could with what I had, then I ordered more cameras

from a local store and jumped into one of the club’s trucks to go pick them
up. By the time I got back and installed them around the club, it was dark. I

checked my screens. Tank and Bull were still by the warehouse. Beauty

must have been inside. I assumed the prospects were near too.
 Sitting back in my chair, I closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath.

What the fuck would I say to Lita’s cousin? How the fuck would I get her to

trust me? To get a message to Lita?

“Fuck!” I spat. But Adelita’s face was immediately in my head. Driving

me forward. Fuck, since the day that bitch had entered my life, she was all I

could see. The one who controlled me.

Snatching the camera and tool kit from beside me, I left my room and

walked past the bar. Brothers were inside, as usual. But I ducked past and
got in the truck. My pulse raced faster the closer I got. For the first time in

two years I was going to speak to someone who knew Adelita . . . someone
who, after she was released, could get a message to her.

Tank stood off the wall he was leaning against as I parked up the truck.
“Cameras?” I nodded, pointing at the stuff in the cab. Bull came over and

started taking the cameras into the warehouse.

“Bitch still calling y’all out?” I said, gesturing to the warehouse.

“Yeah,” Tank said. “Beauty’s been in there a while, and that seems to have
shut her down some.”

“Where exactly is she in the warehouse?” I pushed my hand through my

hair. “So I know where to point the cameras.”
Tank stepped closer to me. “When you’re in there, don’t mention shit

about Adelita. Right? Keep quiet. Don’t piss Styx off. We’ll work out a way
to get Adelita. Now ain’t the time.”
I nodded and went into the warehouse. Bull showed me where he’d

dumped the stuff, then left to stand guard with Tank. Tank had warned
me . . . but I didn’t fucking intend to keep my mouth shut. I needed to know

about Lita.
The three prospects were standing outside the small room I knew the

cousin was in. I tipped my chin to them. Slash and Zane came over. “Bull
told us to help you,” Slash said.
I tore my eyes away from the closed door of the back room. “Good.” I

cleared my throat. “We’ll start over here. I show you one, then y’all can
split up and do some of the others.” I led them to the far side of the

warehouse. Ten minutes later I was installing the first camera, talking them
through it, while Slash held the ladder I was on.

“You learned all this in the army, right?” Slash asked.

I looked down at the kid. He looked like Smiler. I knew he was Smiler’s

cousin, around nineteen. Didn’t know more of his story than that. “Yeah,
communications.”

“Cool,” he said. “Been thinking about the army too. Smiler thinks I
shouldn’t bother. Just work on bikes and stay with the Hangmen.”

“My uncle said the same,” Zane, AK’s nephew, said. I watched the kid as
he ducked his head and looked away. Because it wasn’t just AK who had
served. It had been his old man too. The guy who, because of a fucked-up
mission that led to his kidnapping and a truckload of PTSD, killed Zane’s

mom and then himself. Kid was raised by his aunt, fucking orphaned.
When I got off the ladder, I said, “I served because my old man told me it

was my patriotic duty.” Zane put his hands in his pockets, but both he and
Slash listened. “I learned a lot in the army. But I’ll tell you now, kids. Don’t

go into war unless you fucking believe in the cause you’re fighting for.”
“Like now, you mean?” Slash asked. “This war we’re in now with the

cartel and the Klan.” Slash’s eyes widened. “I mean, you . . . them . . .”
I put my hand on Slash’s shoulder. “It’s all good, kid. I know it’s fucked

up with me and the Klan.”

“But you’re a Hangman now, right?” Zane asked. I smirked, seeing a mini

AK staring back at me.

“I am.” I let my eyes drift to the door of the back room again.

“She’s fucking loud,” Slash said, running his hands through his hair.
“Bitch hasn’t stopped shouting in hours. I got a fucking headache.”
“She’s quiet now,” I said.

“Beauty probably muzzled her.” Ash stood off the door, smirking as he
finished his smoke and tossed it to the floor. “My fucking ears hurt from all

the noise. I need a fucking drink.”

 Turning to Zane and Slash, I said, “You saw how I installed that last

camera?” They nodded. “Go do the same in the other rooms.” I turned to
Ash. “You go too. I gotta get these cameras up fast. They’ll show you how.”

“Good luck.” Ash followed his brothers to the far-off room. Taking hold of
a camera, I knocked on the door.

Beauty answered. She looked flustered, but when she saw me she painted
on her smile. “Hey, darlin’,” she said, holding the door ajar. “You here to set
the camera up?”

“Yeah.”
“Good. Then I’m taking a break. I need a fucking drink. Watch her while

you work—she’s one feisty bitch. I usually respect that in a woman, but
right now I wanna punch my fist into her teeth just so her mouth’s too full

to keep screaming. She’s working my last nerve.” She smiled wider. “I

won’t be long!” Beauty walked out of the warehouse.

The door was open, but the room inside was dark. Taking a long breath, I
pushed through the door. The back room was small, with only a dim lamp

as the light. But I saw the cousin in the corner, covered in shadows. Her
head was down, and her dark hair was blanketing her face. Her hands were

tied with rope, as were her feet. The wedding dress she wore covered most
of her body. I squinted, trying to make her out, but in this dim light, it was

impossible.
 Checking no one was in the main body of the warehouse, I shut the door

and bolted it. My hand tightened on the knob, but then I manned the fuck up
and turned. I walked straight to the bitch in the chair, and she must have

sensed me, because she lashed out with her bound legs and spat,
“Cabrones! Los odio!”

Her head snapped back as she thrashed to get near me. I stood my ground,
waiting for her to calm the fuck down and stop. Her long dark hair flew

back off her face, her mouth opened to spew more shit my way, then her
eyes locked on mine and . . .

I froze.
Couldn’t fucking move.

Every cell in my body went rigid. I wasn’t even fucking breathing.

My heart started smashing against my ribs, and my muscles tensed until I

thought they might snap. And I never moved my attention from those eyes.
Dark brown eyes, long-as-fuck lashes, and those lips . . . those fucking full,
perfect lips.

My chest squeezed my lungs like an iron fist, and my damn hands started
to shake . . . because I didn’t trust my eyes. Didn’t fucking trust myself to

believe who sat before me.

Her eyes widened, and I watched as her face drained of blood. She blinked

like she couldn’t believe it either, then her eyes filled with tears . . .
 “Tanner?” she whispered in disbelief. I had to shut my eyes as the sound
of her voice hit my ears. “No . . . it can’t be . . .” she cried. My breathing

and heart synced to one beat, both of them drumming in my ears. Opening
my eyes, I shook my head. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be her . . .
“Ad . . . Adelita?”

The rasp of her name off my lips filled up every inch of the silent room
like a thick smoke. Her eyes closed, and a tear fell down her cheek.

Then I looked at her . . . really fucking looked at her, and shit filtered
through.

She was in a wedding dress. The shock that had kept me in its chokehold
started to fade. And like hot blood off a sharpened knife, the shock, the

fucking relief that it was Adelita sitting before me, melted away . . . and in
its place came confusion, disbelief . . . then anger. Red-hot fucking anger.

Because it hadn’t been Adelita’s cousin who was getting married . . . it had
been her.

“Tanner?” Adelita’s voice was shaking and quiet and just as perfect as I
remembered. But that sweetness wasn’t enough to dilute the bitter taste that

was building on my tongue.

I met her eyes, those eyes that had once promised me in return everything

that I had promised her. The eyes that told me to trust her like she would
me. That she’d wait for me while I figured out a way for us to be together.
While I fucking left and tried to work out a way for us to escape all the shit
that kept us apart.

All this time. All these months of planning and scheming for a way to
leave my family, to leave the Klan unscathed, protected by someone

stronger and more powerful. To prove my worth to the Hangmen so they

would take me on as one of their own . . . all for her. All for this bitch who

had upturned my life and fucking changed me, made me want nothing but
her. All so we could be together and escape our fucking families that would

never let us—would rather see us dead.

As I looked at the woman I loved, the one who had governed my life since

the first time I laid eyes on her, all I felt was a fucking thunderstorm of
rage, filling my muscles and bones down to their cores. The rage I used to

wear every fucking day, the rage I’d learned to control for her, started to
break free . . . and I did nothing to fucking stop it. I did nothing to hold it
back. Instead I let it flood me, my veins bursting with the darkness that had
always lived inside me, put there by my old man and the Klan and all the

fucking hatred and venom I was infected with as a kid. And I fucking
embraced it.
No deep breath was working. Nothing was gonna stop this. As I looked at
that wedding dress, at the white lace covering her arms—arms that had held
on to me as she’d promised to someday be my fucking wife—I fucking
snapped.

“It was you,” I snarled. My fists clenched so tight I knew they’d draw
blood as Adelita’s rose scent filled my nose. That scent I’d dreamed of for
two years. The scent I remembered every time I lay in bed. The scent I kept
with me all this time. “It was fucking you getting married!” I didn’t phrase
it as a question. I didn’t have to. She sat in front of me in a motherfucking

wedding dress.
Adelita’s eyes said it all. The guilt was written all over her face. She’d
betrayed me. Betrayed us. Her mouth opened, but I didn’t hear what she had
to say. I didn’t even know if she actually spoke. My brain shut her out,

drowning in the thick fog I was letting in. Taking me back to the day I
returned to Mexico. The day I threw everything away. The day I set all this
in motion.
The day the White Prince voluntarily fell from his fucking throne . . .

*****

“Only a few more trips like this, Tanner, and we’ll be done,” my father said
as we pulled through the gates of the Quintana hacienda. My eyes were
fixed on the guards that surrounded the place, just like last time. I tried to
focus on them, on what my father was telling me. But my fucking sick head
went to only one place.

Adelita fucking Quintana.

Two months. I’d been gone for two months. Two months of being back with
my people, my family. I’d fucked pure WASP sluts, trying to remember who
the fuck I was. Two months of taking down enemies and burning the fiery

cross.
And two months of trying to rid myself of the shame that I’d fucked
Quintana’s daughter. And two months to school myself for this moment. The
moment I saw her again.

I had to stay the fuck away.

The car stopped and we were led into the hacienda. My hands were balled
at my sides as I kept my face staring straight forward. When we arrived at
Quintana’s private quarters, I sat down next to my father, then Quintana
came into the room. “Gentlemen,” he said in his fucking thick accent.

Adelita didn’t speak like he did. Daddy had clearly educated his daughter
better than he had been.
I got to my feet and shook his hand. My father and Quintana started
making small talk that I quickly zoned out of. I glanced around at the art in

Quintana’s office. It was shitty. Too-bright colors that made fuck-all

sense . . . until my eyes fell on a painting above his desk. Brown eyes that
had been burned into my skull stared back at me. And just like I

remembered, they fucking taunted me with a superior glare. Challenged me

to take her on.
Told me to take her pussy again.
“Tanner?” My father’s harsh voice pulled me from my head. I looked at
him. “We’ll join Alfonso soon for dinner. Yes?”

“Yes, sir,” I said and got to my feet after my father.

As I walked to the suite I stayed in last time, I scanned the hallways, but
there was no sign of Adelita. Her rooms were around here, I knew. My skin
prickled as if it could sense her close. I hoped I wouldn’t see her the whole

time I was here. Prayed she was out of town, so I could get in and out of
this shithole without casting one glance her way.
I showered and changed for dinner. I never once stopped moving; I paced
my room until it was time to go. I couldn’t turn off my fucking head. I

banged my fist against my skull just to take the memory of Adelita falling
apart under me from my thoughts. Of realizing I’d just taken her virginity.
Of how she slapped me, fought me, then kissed me like she couldn’t stand
not to.

There was a knock on the door. My father stood there in a suit. His eyes
ran over my slacks, fitted white button-down shirt, and black tie. But they
fixed on the full-body tattoos that crept out from the collar and cuffs of my
shirt. His lip lifted in disgust. Mine curled in victory. It was the one thing in

my life I’d done against his wishes. Fucker had made me pay for it with my
flesh. But it had been worth it to see his perfectly groomed heir no longer
the all-American boy he wanted me to be. “True Klansmen are invisible,
Tanner. They don’t wear their beliefs on their skins like heathens.” His

message had been drummed into my head all my life. But when Tank left the
Klan, I left the army, I spiraled, and I did exactly what the great Governor
Ayers hadn’t wanted me to do.
It was the best decision I’d ever made. I wasn’t meant for political office

like my pop. I was meant for war and violence. For blood and guns and
glory.
I was created for the darkness.
“Let’s go.” My father led us to the veranda where dinner would be served.
He leaned in close. “Keep your mouth shut. I’ll do the talking.” It was fine

by me. I was useless here anyway. He had no intention of cluing me in on

the contract he was building with Quintana. I was here for fucking show.
And as witness.
Quintana was waiting at the table. We had only just been given drinks and

directed to our seats by a maid when Quintana broke into a smile and stood
from his place at the head of the table. I kept my eyes forward, I knew who
had just arrived.
 “Tanner, you remember my daughter, Adela.”

Clenching my jaw, I stood and reluctantly lifted my gaze to Adelita. Her

brown eyes locked on mine, and I immediately saw something flare inside
them.
Then my eyes fell to the man standing beside her. The man whose arm she

was on. “And this is Diego,” Quintana said. “He’s my second.” Quintana
looked at my father. “He will be joining us tomorrow as discussed. He’ll be
heading the project with me.”
Anger burst inside me. My father saw it in my face; I knew it. I also knew

he thought it was at being excluded from his meetings when this

motherfucker was going to be there. But he was wrong. He was fucking
dead wrong. My fury came from this dick’s arm holding Adelita’s.
“Señor Ayers.” Diego smiled at me. Keeping Adelita’s arm in his, he held

out his free hand. I shook it and felt the effort behind the strength of his
grip. I’d crush this fucker into pieces given half a chance. Fuck up his
perfectly slicked back hair and three-thousand-dollar suit.
“Let’s sit, shall we?” Quintana said.

I did as he said, then stared down at my plate. I fucking forced myself to.
But when Adelita said, “Did you have a good trip back to Mexico,
Tanner?” I lifted my eyes and they locked on hers.
 She smiled, but I could see her nerves underneath. I watched her throat
work as she swallowed, her eyes dropping down to my chest. That fucking
did something to me inside. Lit me the fuck up. I made her nervous. I’d
gotten to her. I wondered if she was thinking what I was right now. If she

was remembering me pushing her against the wall in the safe house, my
hand on her throat. If she was remembering her mouth on mine, her teeth
sinking into my flesh.
If she remembered me inside her, making her scream.

When my cock hardened, I let anger push it the fuck back down. I didn’t
want this bitch. I didn’t want her anywhere near me. I had to remember
that.
“Adelita asked you a question.” My eyes snapped to Diego beside her. The
fucker, sitting there with his three-piece suit and his pissant dark eyes, was

glaring at me. My neck tightened as I fought the urge to dive for the asshole
and teach him some fucking manners.
I caught my father’s stony expression and turned to Adelita. “It was fine.”
When everyone had started eating, I looked up at Diego to see him

watching me. I met his stare and let him know with my fucking eyes that I
hated his spic ass on sight. And promised him that if I ever got the chance, I
would fucking end him.
 Diego looked away when Quintana asked him a question. But my attention
was on his hand as he reached out and laid it over Adelita’s on the table.
Fire surged through my veins. I shifted in my seat, ready to fuck up this deal
and tear the fucker limb from limb. But Adelita pulled her hand from under

his and tucked it under the table.

Her eyes flashed to mine, then focused again on her father. The perfect
cartel princess never dropping her polished façade. Diego’s face was stone,
but I could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was pissed.

Then I swallowed down my own anger. Because I didn’t care if he fucked

her on this table in front of us all. I didn’t care if the asshole had had her
after me. She wasn’t mine, and I was never touching her again.

*****

I stared at the door and wondered—for the hundredth time—what the fuck I
was doing here. My nails cut into my palms as my fists curled. My traps

were pulled so tightly my neck ached. And as I looked around the hallway, I
knew I had less than thirty seconds before a guard would be along. The
army had taught me many things. I was thankful that one of them was how
to sneak past patrols.
 Or maybe I wasn’t. Because if I hadn’t learned how to be stealth, I
wouldn’t be here right now—a fucking betrayer of my race.
The pin I held in my hand became a burning flame. I closed my eyes,

fucking willed myself to leave. But when I heard the distant sound of guards
down the hall, I let my body lead. In seconds, I’d picked the lock with the
pin and I was in Adelita’s room. The smell of roses hit my nose first. My jaw
clenched, but my feet carried me to another set of doors. I picked the lock
on those too and slipped through.

The room was dark but for a small bedside lamp. Adelita lay on the bed,
dressed in a white silk nightgown that showed her bare arms and calves and
feet. The material stuck to her body like glue. Her fucking perfect body. A
body my hands remembered exploring every inch of.

The floor creaked beneath my foot. Adelita sat up, and her gaze collided
with mine. I stayed stock still, my hands again balled into fists.
Adelita’s eyes were wide. But she stayed silent. My breathing echoed in my
ears. I should turn and leave. I should have. My dick had hardened the

minute I saw her. I was fucking up by being here. I knew I was.

Yet my feet didn’t move.
Adelita stood. I watched every move she made, my breathing coming
faster. I saw her fighting for breath too. Her tits rose and fell under her silk

nightdress. She was just a couple of feet from me now. I could smell the
familiar scent of coconut from her hair, and I could see her bare face. She
had no makeup on, and her hair was loose and unstyled, falling down to the
middle of her back.

The temperature in the room seemed to rise about a hundred degrees. I

watched Adelita, she watched me, then . . . “Tanner . . .” At the sound of my
name from her lips, I threw off the last fucking morsel of sanity I had left
and marched to where she stood. Not even giving her a chance to talk, I

smashed my lips to hers. Adelita moaned into my mouth, and then her
tongue was warring against mine.
My fucking heart was a drum about to burst from my chest. My hands were
everywhere on her. Her hands pressed my cheeks then moved down to my

biceps. Familiar red nails dug into the flesh, and I hissed as the pain, mixed
with her taste and feel and sound, made my cock about ready to bust
through my jeans.
Ripping my mouth from hers, I yanked my shirt off, then pulled down the

straps of her nightgown until her tits were freed. With a low growl, I dove
forward and sucked a nipple into my mouth. Adelita threw her head back
and moaned. Her hands were a vise on my head as she kept me at her tit,
my tongue thrashing the nipple back and forth. I slipped my hand under her
nightgown. As soon as my fingers found her wet pussy, Adelita cried out.
Releasing her nipple, I slammed her down on the bed, climbed over her, and
covered her mouth with my free hand. “Shh,” I hissed. “Keep quiet.”

Adelita’s eyes rolled as I slipped a finger inside her, looking for the spot
that would make her fall apart. I tracked my eyes down her body,
memorizing her tits and legs and pussy. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted her
naked under me. Wanted her skin pressed against mine. I took hold of the
thin material covering her body and ripped it down the middle. I pulled the

ruined nightgown from underneath her and tossed it to the floor. Then I sat
back and looked down at all of her—Adelita fucking Quintana. Looked at
her lying on the bed, her body bared for me—nipples tight and red, pussy
wet and waiting.

I found her already watching me. And when a small smile spread on her
lips, that fucking antagonistic side of her I knew was under that perfect
cartel princess shit, that fucking fire, slipped through. Biting her lip, Adelita
moved her foot and slowly slid it against my cock.

It broke me.
I crashed my mouth to hers. But only for a second, before I slid down her
body. Hooking my arms under her legs, I yanked her down the bed—bitch
didn’t want to play it soft. Adelita’s eyes flared, pupils dilated, and she

struggled to catch her breath. Heat burned through me at the sight of her
laid out before me. I groaned, then lowered my body and licked right along
her bared pussy, from clit to hole. Adelita’s head snapped back and her
mouth opened. But she trapped her scream in her throat and silently

breathed it out.
The taste of her was threatening to pull me apart. I licked along her pussy
again, sucking her clit into my mouth and flicking it with my tongue. Adelita
writhed in my arms, but I used my strength to pin her arms down so she

couldn’t move. So she had to take my licks and know who was fucking her.
More than addicted to her taste, I worked her faster and faster until she
tensed, stilled, then broke apart under me.
As Adelita gasped for breath, her skin grew slick with sweat. She shook in

my arms, her hips jerking from coming so hard. Seeing her like this, seeing
this perfect body and face shattering because of me, made me turn fucking
red-hot savage. I snapped my jeans open, pulled off my boots, and threw
them to the floor. Before Adelita even had a chance to recover, I moved

between her legs and slammed inside her in one long thrust. Adelita’s back
arched off the bed as I rocked into her, back and forth and back and forth.
Her tits scraped against my chest, and her arms wrapped around my neck,
fingers clawing at my skin. Bitch gave back as much as I gave her. She used
her hands on my neck as her anchor as she lifted off the mattress and rode

my cock.
 Her pussy squeezed me hard, and I sank my teeth into the side of her neck

and sucked. The princess only rode me harder. Pressure built at the base of
my spine. Letting her know her brush with control was over, I threw Adelita
to the mattress and pinned her down as I fucked her. I fucked her hard, so
hard she’d be feeling me inside her for days. So hard that even if another
dick ever came inside her, all she’d think of was me, this moment. My cock

owning her pussy.

Adelita’s breath grew labored. She stayed pinned to the mattress, and I
couldn’t look away. Her hair was spread out around her head like a damn
halo; her cheeks were flushed, her lips thick from my mouth. Her pupils

were so wide her brown eyes looked black.

My heart raced. My arms, still pinning her down, started to shake as I
tried to rip my eyes away. But I couldn’t. My chest tightened as I thrust
faster. It tightened as I tried to think of her as nothing. Think of her as

impure and beneath me. But when her pussy clenched and started choking
my dick, and I watched her come, head back and whispering, “Tanner,” I
knew I was completely fucked. Letting out a too-loud roar, I slammed into
her one more time, the sight of her perfect face ripping the cum right from

me. I dropped my head to her neck and pushed into her until I had nothing
left.
 I inhaled slowly as I caught my breath. I kept my head tucked into

Adelita’s neck, breathing in her scent. I needed to move. I told myself to

fucking move, to get the hell away from her room, but my body wasn’t
listening. And when her hand came up and ran over my shaved head, and
down along my spine in soft, slow caresses, I knew that I wasn’t going

anywhere.
My dick was still hard inside her. Only when it went soft did I pull out. I

felt my cum spill onto her thighs, and I nearly got hard again. I moved my

hand between her legs and rubbed it into her skin. Marking this bitch as
belonging to me. Making sure she knew who’d just had her—who’d taken

her for the first time two months ago.

Adelita’s breathing hitched. I lifted my head, and my stubbled cheek

rubbed against her smooth one. Adelita’s brown gaze fixed on mine. She

didn’t say a thing. Just kept looking at me. Something broke in my chest as
she did. I didn’t know what the fuck it was, but it terrified me.

I held my breath as her eyes searched mine and her fingers ran over my

face. “¡Hola, Tanner Ayers. It is nice to have you back.”

My nostrils flared, and I closed my eyes, fighting whatever was possessing

me. Fighting to remember who I was and what I believed in. But when I
opened my eyes and saw Adelita’s smiling face staring back at me, every
other thought but her and me and us, like this, right now, completely

disappeared.

I turned my head into her hand and kissed her palm. Adelita’s eyes
widened. So I kissed her mouth, and she melted against me. When I broke

away, I rolled to the side. I stared at the ceiling, refusing to let in the things
that were stabbing at my brain—my father and what he would do if he knew

I was here, my brotherhood back in Texas . . . and the entire US Klan—what

they would do if they found out their heir was fucking a Mexican. Worse
still, a cartel princess.

“Did you miss me, Tanner Ayers?” Adelita’s question pulled me from my
thoughts. She crossed her arms on my chest and settled her chin on them. I

searched her face and looked for the inferiority. But I couldn’t find it. Bitch

was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen.

“What’s happening between you and that Diego cunt?” I asked, my voice

sharp as a dagger. Adelita’s eyes widened as the question hissed from my

mouth. There was nothing calm or nice about the way I asked it.
But then a knowing smirk pulled at her mouth. That action both pissed me

the fuck off and made me want to push my cock between her lips and fuck
her mouth. Reaching out, I dragged my thumb over her lips and demanded,

“Answer the question.”

 Adelita rolled her eyes. She was one of the only people I’d ever met who
didn’t fear me. I didn’t know why. She bit my thumb. I hissed, my cock

stirring to life at the sharp sting of pain. Adelita released my thumb and

said, “Nothing. We grew up together. He is Papa’s second in command.”

“He wants to fuck you.”

“Well, I do not want to fuck him.”

Leaning into her, I bit at her lip, before pushing my tongue inside her
mouth. Adelita moaned against me. Hearing a noise, I checked my watch. I

had about fifteen minutes to get back to my rooms unseen. I threw my jeans
and shirt back on and headed for the door. Rational thought seeped back

into me. “That’ll be the last time I come here. The last time we fuck.” I

ignored the crack in my chest as the words left my mouth.

My blood buzzed through my veins like electricity zipping through live

wires. My skin was red hot at the thought of not having her again. But I had
to fucking leave. I had to stop being so fucking weak.

Just before I reached the door, Adelita said, “You’ll be back here

tomorrow night, Tanner Ayers. You can’t seem to stay away from me.” She
smirked, but her cheeks flushed. “Just like I cannot stay away from you.”

My fingernails rolled into my palm and dug into my flesh. I closed my eyes

and tried to breathe to calm the anger her words ignited. But it was no use.
I turned around. Adelita was still on the bed, naked and watching me, her

skin still slick from our fucking.

I marched to where she lay, fisted my hand in her hair, and pulled her to
my face, about to tell her what I thought of her kind, her fucking mind

games. But when I opened my mouth, something else fell from my tongue.
“That cunt comes near you, and I’ll kill him.” Adelita’s lips parted, and her

head dropped as she roved her eyes over my chest and arms. Moving my

hand between her legs, I slipped a finger inside her, my dick twitching as
she moaned. “I own this pussy, princess. Don’t you fucking forget that.”

I pulled my hand back, then stormed from her suite. I shut the door, and

gave myself a fucking second to breathe. Then I sneaked back into my room
before I was caught.

The next night, I was back in Adelita’s bed, and back in that pussy that I
owned. And the bitch must have been a damn witch, because I started

replaying Tank’s words from a while back, when he’d joined the Hangmen

and left me, his best friend. That one day I would meet someone who would
make me question everything. Make me realize that the invisible empire was

all bullshit. It couldn’t be. I believed in it all. I did. The Klan had a goal,

and I was dead set on seeing it happen.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I thought of the burning crosses, the rallies, and

the people we’d killed. Thought of the white race. How we were meant to
lead. To reign supreme. But when I pictured Adelita’s face in my head, the

lines were getting blurred. I struggled to see impurity. Adelita’s smile,

lightly tanned skin, and dark eyes clouded my mind. And, fuck, to me, they

were perfect . . . just like her . . . a perfect Mexican . . . I didn’t know what
the fuck to do with that . . .

“Tanner?” I shook my head, and then those eyes were right there in front

of me once more. But this time they were real. My hands were shaking, and
my neck was so tense I thought my tendons were gonna snap. My eyes

squeezed shut as hellfire took me over, fucking eradicating any sanity, any

good, that was left inside me.

“Tanner . . . please . . .”

Adelita’s pleading voice made my eyes slam open, and I was across the
room in seconds. My hand fisted into her hair—hair that, after all this time,

I still remembered the feel and smell of—and I glared into her eyes. I didn’t

look any lower. If I saw that fucking wedding dress again I wasn’t sure
what I would do.

“You betrayed me,” I snarled, desperately trying to keep a check on my

rage. “You fucking betrayed me.” My voice barely made a sound at all, but

it was dripping with poison.

The tears that had been building in Adelita’s eyes seemed to vanish in an
instant, replaced by a spark of rage. She opened her mouth to speak, but the
door to the room opened.

“Tanner?”

I spun around, unable to hold back my anger. “Get the fuck out of here
before I kill you.” Slash, Zane, and Ash’s eyes widened, and the three of

them hurried back from the door. Their faces were confused, like they

didn’t know what the fuck was happening. But I’d lost it. I didn’t have it in
me to explain. I was done trying to be the Tanner they all knew. The one

who kept his temper in check. The one who tried to pretend he wasn’t a
stone-cold fucking killer. The one who kept back the part of him that was

fucking tapped.

I pulled my knife from the back of my jeans and made sure the gun in my
holster was loaded. “Fuck!” I spat, knowing my brothers would be here

soon. Knowing the shit was about to go down. My muscles vibrated as I

waited for whoever was gonna come through that door. Because they
would. And even though these men were my brothers, if they tried to get

anywhere close to Adelita, I’d fucking ruin them.

I didn’t have to wait long. Minutes later, Bull, Tank, and Beauty rushed

through the door. I fisted my knife and stood in front of Adelita. It was Tank

I focused on. He took one look at me and his hands went into the air.
“Tann? What the fuck?”
 “Get back,” I warned. My voice was pure threat. Bull stepped forward

around Tank. “I said get the fuck back!”

“Tann! Shit! What the hell is happening?” Tank blocked Bull from coming

any closer. Bull’s face was laced with fury as he watched me like a hawk.

“Tank, get the fuck back. I won’t ask again.”

“Tann, I don’t know what the fuck is happening here. But speak to me. I’m

your best friend. Tell me what the fuck is going on! You planning on taking
her somewhere? This about your bitch?”

My eyes darted around the room. I had to get Adelita out of here. I had to

protect her. No one was touching her. The thought of Shadow taking her
from her room, or whoever had tied her to the chair binding her hands and

feet, almost pushed me over the edge. My vision was misting with red at the
thought.

The door flew open again, and Ky, Styx, Vike, AK, and Rudge barreled

through. I locked onto Styx. He was my biggest threat. More brothers piled
in. Cowboy and Hush and Smiler. The prospects I’d threatened. The blood

in my veins flowed like rapids now, my ears echoing with the adrenaline

that was surging through me.

Ky stepped to the front. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Get back,” I said, slowly, so the fucker would know not to test me. Ky
blinked in shock, then tipped his head to the side. I knew that look on his
face. I’d pissed him off. Before he, or any of them, could speak, I said, “I’m
warning you. Any of you try to get to her, I’ll fucking kill you. No one will

touch her. Just fucking try me.”

“Finally!” a voice said. I found Vike. Fucker was smiling. “The beast has

awakened. The fucking White Prince is here. The beast we’d all heard of. I

was wondering where he’d been all this time.”

Ky took a step forward. “I mean it!” I warned. “I don’t wanna hurt you,

but I will if you try me.”

“Tann?” Tank pushed Ky back and kept his hand on the VP’s chest to hold
him off. Then something flashed across Tank’s face. “The bitch . . .” he

said, and I saw he was trying to piece shit together by the look of
concentration on his face. He tried to see Adelita behind me. I blocked her

from view. “It’s not the cousin in that chair, is it?”

The room filled with tension as silence fell. My eyes flitted from one
brother to the next, my knife held out, just in case they tried to blindside

me. I heard Adelita hitch a breath as I said, “This is Adelita Quintana.” This

time it was Tank I addressed. “And she ain’t my bitch, brother . . . she’s my
fucking fiancée.”

Tank’s eyes closed briefly. That was what I’d been keeping from him. That
she was so much fucking more than just my bitch. I never moved my

attention from him, so Ky caught me off guard when he plowed past Tank
and punched me straight across the face. He pushed me against the nearest

wall. “Your fiancée? Anything else you’re fucking keeping shut about,
asshole?” His words were fuel to the fire that was flaring inside me.

Slamming my hands on his chest, I threw him off me and caught Adelita’s

eyes. Tears were running down her cheeks. My stomach fucking plummeted
at the sight. Ky used my distraction to hit me again. I tasted blood in my

mouth as the fucker kept coming at me.

“No!” I heard Adelita’s voice call out. Shoving Ky back, I fought to get to

her. Ky grabbed my arm, and I swung. My fist connected with his lip,

busting it wide open. He only smiled, licked his lip, and stormed toward me
again. Fucker didn’t know when to stop.

Tank got between us. “Quit it!” he ordered. I looked back at Adelita. Her

worried eyes were still locked on me. “Tann, calm the fuck down.” I
breathed in and out, edging away from Tank and back toward Adelita.

A loud whistle cut through the room. Styx pushed through the brothers to
stand before us like fucking Hades himself. His hands lifted.

“Calm the fuck down before I make you,” he signed. Tank interpreted. I

kept my chin high. I wasn’t backing down, and I wasn’t gonna be made to
feel like shit. This was Adelita. My fucking old lady.

Styx signed to Beauty.

 “He’s told her to take Adelita back to our room, in the clubhouse,” Tank
told me, knowing I didn’t know ASL.

“Sure.” Beauty looked at me, sympathy flooding her eyes.

“Lita,” I said without looking her way. “Beauty’s Tank’s old lady. I’ve told
you about her, remember? About Tank?”

“Si,” she whispered. My stomach turned at hearing her voice again. She
was scared, but like always, she was refusing to show it.

“Smiler, AK, take Beauty and Quintana’s daughter to the clubhouse and

keep guard.”
AK stepped forward with his knife.

“Stay the fuck there,” I said. AK’s jaw clenched. “I’ll untie her.” Keeping

my eyes on my brothers, I sliced my knife through the ropes around

Adelita’s ankles, then moved behind her to untie her hands. As soon as her

hands were free, they found mine. I took a deep breath as her fingers
entwined with mine. That fucking feeling I’d held on to for all this time

came flooding back. The settling of the rage in my blood. The steady

beating of my heart, and the sense of home. Not giving a shit that all of my
brothers were here, I moved in front of her, lifted her to her feet, and

crushed my lips to hers.

Adelita melted into me as though no time at all had passed. If I hadn’t

been aware of where we were, I could have tricked myself into thinking that
we were back in Mexico. Back in her room. I was fucking consumed by her.

Her smell, her feel, her taste.

When I broke away, Adelita’s eyes opened. Tears fell down her cheeks,
and I had to fight back the anger that still burned inside me. She’d been

getting married. Here she was, in Texas, in my fucking arms . . . in a white

dress meant for someone else.

“Tann?” Beauty’s voice sailed to my ears. “Let me take her while you sort

everything out. I promise I’ll look after her. You can trust me.” Adelita’s
hands shook as they held on to my wrists. She looked at Beauty, and when I

could tear my eyes away from Adelita, so did I. Beauty smiled at me, then
turned to Adelita. “I’m Beauty.” She held out her hand. Adelita looked

wary, but she shook it. “You have my word that no one will hurt you.”

“Go with her,” I said. Adelita still held on tightly to my wrist like she
didn’t wanna let go. I slipped my hand into hers and kissed her again.

“Trust me.”

Adelita nodded, then let Beauty lead her away. I fought a smirk when I
saw her hold her head up high like the princess she was. My brothers stared

at her as she walked past. AK and Smiler fell in line behind Beauty. My
eyes tracked Adelita until she was out the door. My instinct was to follow

her. But we needed to sort this shit. Once and for fucking all.
 “That’s Quintana’s daughter?” Ky asked, translating for Styx. I nodded.
The room was quiet.

“Time to explain,” Ky translated for Styx. “Right the fuck now. And no

more fucking lying or missing shit out. This is your last fucking chance.”
My jaw clenched at the order. But then I thought of Adelita’s eyes filling

with tears as Ky had hit me. Of how scared she was. It was enough to

reduce the raging fire in my stomach to a low burn. I crossed my arms

across my chest and spoke. “We met when my old man and Quintana struck

a deal. I didn’t know it at the time, but it must have been the trafficking shit.
He kept me out of it. Didn’t include me. That’s when I met Adelita.”

“And what? Klan Romeo and Cartel Juliet fell madly in love?” Ky’s shitty

attitude pissed me the fuck off.

I fought it and explained, “She made me see things differently. She made

me see that the shit I’d been raised to believe was all bull.” I rubbed the
back of my neck. “Got out after that.” I looked Ky square in his face,

getting a sick satisfaction out of seeing his lip was still bleeding.

“Remember? I came here and gave you the intel you needed to get your
woman out of that fucked-up cult. So let’s not pretend you don’t get me and

why I’ve done what I’ve done. That you don’t understand that you’ll do

anything to get the one you love.”

 “You should have said something,” Tank said. “You should have told us.

Shit, brother, you should have told me.”

“It was too dangerous.” I exhaled and tipped my head back to stare at the
ceiling. “I was planning to get her out somehow. Work out a way . . . then

we went to war.” I laughed a humorless laugh. “Not only with my fiancée’s

father but with my family too. Anything I thought could work suddenly

went out the fucking window.” I glanced at the chair she’d been sitting on.

“Believe me, I didn’t bank on her being the one taken. I never thought she’d
be delivered right into my hands.”

“If she’s your old lady, why the fuck was she marrying someone else?”

Rudge said, asking the one question I had been thinking myself. I knew
they’d all be thinking.

My heart started pounding as pictured her in that white dress. That ring on
her finger and that guilty look in her eyes when she saw who was before

her, looking at the evidence of her betrayal. “I don’t know,” I said hoarsely.

“Shi-it, brother,” Rudge said, whistling low. “You walked away from the
Nazi crown for her, and she gets hitched—or almost gets hitched—to

someone else?” He shook his head. “That shit’s gotta sting.”

It did. It was fucking destroying me.

“We have Quintana’s daughter.” Ky moved to stand next to Styx, shaking

his head. “Daddy dearest is gonna be pissed. It was bad when we thought
we only had the cousin. He’s gonna bring the fucking rain now we have his

little girl.”
Styx lifted his hands. “We’re going on lockdown,” he signed; Ky spoke.

“Get your old ladies and anything you need. We go on lockdown in four
hours. No one leaves until this shit is dealt with and we know where we

stand.” The brothers started filing out of the warehouse. Styx, Ky, and Tank

stayed behind. Styx stepped even closer to me. “You’re gonna tell us all you
know about Quintana. Every fucking thing.”

“It ain’t much. I told you, I was kept out of the deals. Found out about the

trafficking when y’all did.”

“You tell us who works for him. The tactics he uses. Anything you can.”

“What about Adelita?” I asked when the tension had grown thicker again.
“She stays in Tank’s room, under guard,” Styx said.

“I’m not leaving her.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’ve just got her

back. I’m not losing her again. She can stay with me in mine.”
“The club you’ve joined just kidnapped her and is holding her against her

will. You think she’ll be okay with you after that?” Tank asked.
I sighed, feeling fucking exhausted. “She doesn’t know what her father is

involved in.”

Tank’s eyes grew suspicious. “You sure about that?”

 “Yeah, I fucking am. She doesn’t know about the trafficking. The drugs,
yeah.” I felt my chest warm. “Lita isn’t naïve. She was brought up in the

cartel life as much as we were the Klan and you guys were the club.” I
pointed at Styx and Ky. “She isn’t some young delicate wallflower. She’s a

fucking queen who knows how to thrive in a fucked-up life.”

“Match made in heaven,” Ky muttered, but I could tell the brother had
calmed down from earlier. If this had been his bitch, he wouldn’t have

hesitated to do anything to get to her. Fuck, the guy barely let Lilah out of
his sight.

“She can’t be given contact with her family. Or anyone, for that matter.

And she ain’t leaving this club.” Styx’s hands moved as Ky verbalized his
signs. “We took her for leverage.”

“She ain’t fucking leverage—she’s my bitch!”

“Quintana won’t attack this club if he knows she’s here. Right now, she’s
fucking leverage.” Styx turned to leave the warehouse, but then signed,

“You can stay with her. But try to get her out from under our noses and I’ll
slit your throat myself.” He stepped closer to me and raised his hands once

more. “Right now I regard you as a brother. You’ve been good for this club.

I trust you. But if I find out you’ve joined us just so you can get her out, or
if you try to double-cross us in any way, we’ll make you pay. I’ll make you

pay.”
 “I’m a fucking Hangman,” I snarled. My muscles twitched in anger. “I

owe this club. It’s my home. I’m not gonna take Lita and cut and run. I’m
not a fucking coward.” Styx studied me, then nodded his head. He and Ky

left me alone with Tank.

As soon as the door was shut, I exhaled and felt my head begin to pound.
Tank ran his hand across his face. “Jesus Christ, Tann.”

I sagged down to the seat Adelita had been tied to. “No one would allow
us be together.” I looked up at my best friend. “You don’t know what that’s

like. To find a bitch who you know is yours, but you’ll both be killed if you

dare touch her.”

Tank put his hand on my shoulder. “Tann, I ain’t claiming to understand,

but . . .”
“But what?”

“All the cartel-Klan-Hangmen shit aside. She was marrying someone else,

brother.” Pain shot through my chest like a spear. “You’ve done everything
to be in the best position to make it safe for her to be with you. Protected.

But what the fuck has she done? She was marrying—”

“There has to be a reason,” I interrupted, praying like fuck I was right.

“There has to be a reason she was getting married.” I looked around the

barren warehouse, emptied for the war and any captives we might get. My
eyes blurred as I remembered her life in the hacienda. “You didn’t see how
it was for her. Trapped, no friends. No one to talk to outside the staff and
her priest. Well, she had her best friend from California, but she wasn’t a

constant. Wasn’t there all the time. Another family friend was killed when I
was there one visit. Adelita had to do anything her papa told her. She was

like a Mexican Rapunzel or some shit, locked away so she couldn’t be

found.” I nodded my head like I was convincing myself to believe she had
no other choice but to do as her papa said. “She was forced into it. She had

to be.”

Tank held out his hand. “Come on. Styx and Ky will want that Quintana
intel before you see her.” I went to argue, but Tank said, “Beauty’s with her.

You know she’ll take care of her. Beauty loves you like a brother. She’ll do
anything for you. Adelita will be fine for a couple of hours while we get

this squared away. Club first. Personal life second. It might be good for

Beauty to speak to her before you do. Calm her down first.”
I let Tank pull me to my feet. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to go to her

right then and make sure she was safe. But he was right. I had to get

everything straight with Styx and Ky. I had to do it so I could keep her
close. “Fuck, Tann, you sure know how to attract trouble,” Tank said as we

walked out the door.

And it’s just beginning, I wanted to say. Once Quintana finds out it’s the

Hangmen, he’s gonna bring darkness to our door. So far it’s been child’s
play. The real war hasn’t even started yet.

And it was the truth. Because how the fuck I was getting me, Adelita, and
the Hangmen out of this shitshow unscathed, I had no fucking clue.

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Seven

Adelita

I met every one of them in the eye. Even though my hands were shaking at

my sides, I would not let them intimidate me. I would stand proud. These

men might want me and my father dead, but I would not let them see my
fear.

The truck we were in drove up a graveled path. Beauty rubbed my arm. I

didn’t know this woman for her to be this affectionate. But I did know of

her . . .
“Tell me about you, Tanner,” I said as I ran my fingers over the tattoo of

an eagle on his stomach. I traced the intricate feathers on the bird’s wings,
the tips a vibrant shade of red that faded into a golden yellow as the many

feathers led down to its body.

“What do you want to know?”

I looked up at Tanner and rested my chin on his chest. “Do you have

friends?”

For a split second I saw a flash of what looked like pure pain in his blue
eyes. Tanner’s muscles twitched beneath me. My stomach fell. He looked so
sad. “I . . .” Tanner cleared his throat. “I have a best friend.” His voice

was low and raspy, as though it hurt him to admit those words.

“In the Klan?”

Tanner picked up a piece of my hair and ran it through his fingers. I

smiled to myself as he became lost in the motion. Tanner Ayers, beneath the
muscles, the tattoos, and the menacing stare, was the most beautiful of men.

“He’s not anymore.” My eyebrows rose in surprise. “He left.” Tanner

inhaled a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “Did time inside, then lost his

faith in the cause. When he came out, he was done.”

“And your brotherhood was okay with it?”

“No,” he said. I tried to decipher the expression on his face. Wonder?

Confusion? No. It was pain. “Just like they would never understand about

you,” I said. It would be way worse, I imagined. He was the heir.

My heart started beating too fast for my breathing to remain steady. We

never talked about what our lives were like outside my room. Tanner had

been back to Mexico three times now. He would return once more before the

Klan–cartel business was complete. And every visit, he came to me every

night. Traveled with me each day through the secret tunnels that ran under

the hacienda. And every time he left to go back to Texas, I counted the

hours until he was back by my side.

 He was never meant to mean anything to me. He was meant to be a man I

loved to hate. A man who, for whatever reason, I felt pulled toward, but who

was meant to be disposable.

I did not count on falling for the infamous White Prince of the Ku Klux

Klan.

“His name is Tank. I met him when he joined the Klan several years back.
We were near the same age, he was just a bit older, so we kind of fell into a

friendship.” Tanner’s lip lifted at the side, and my heart melted on seeing

that small whisper of a smile edge across his mouth. It was rare, like a blue

moon, and just as enchanting. “He was my right-hand man. He was always

with me. Stood beside me when I needed him . . .” The pain that had

clouded his eyes before returned.

“And where is he now?”

Tanner’s small smile fell. “With another gang. A new brotherhood.”

I took Tanner’s hand. I was compelled to soothe him. I squeezed his hand

and brought it to my lips. “But you still see him? Against your father’s
wishes?”

Tanner nodded. “He has a woman now. Beauty.” His smile returned.

“She’s a total ballbuster.” He paused, then, flicking an almost shy smile my

way, said, “Like you. I think you’d like her. I could see you being friends.” I

couldn’t help but smile back, my heart expanding, at just the thought of
meeting some of Tanner’s friends as his . . . his. Tanner stared at me. I

waited for him to speak. I had quickly learned that Tanner was the type of

man who spoke only when he had something important to say. “When Tank
left, I couldn’t understand how he could walk away.” Tanner glanced down

at his hand in mine. Then his eyes tracked the tattoos on his arm. “When he

left, I changed. I felt betrayed. Immersed myself in the Klan more than

ever.”

“Tanner . . . what is it?” I asked after a minute of tense silence.

Tanner sighed. “But now I can.” My stomach flipped and my pulse

lurched into a sprint. I didn’t know what to say. Tanner’s eyes dipped as if

he was embarrassed to have said such a thing. “Now I think that maybe the

life I’ve lived . . .” He shook his head. “The things I’ve done and the beliefs

I had . . . now I think they could all be wrong.” Tanner hooked his hands

under my arms and pulled me to lie over his chest. I gasped as I felt his

hard muscles against my breasts. Tanner cupped my cheek. “Adelita

Quintana. You’re making me want things I never dreamed I could want.”

“Tanner . . .”

“You’re giving me something I’ve never had before.” I held my breath,

anxious to hear the answer. “Hope,” he whispered. “Hope for more than

what I know . . .”
 “We’re here, darlin’.” The sound of a stranger’s voice pulled me from the

memory. Even just thinking about that night, my heart beat louder and

quicker. My breath came faster just remembering Tanner’s face.

Hope.

Tanner had inspired that in me too.

The man who had driven the truck got out and waited for me to move.

“It’s okay,” Beauty said. I allowed myself to look at her. She smiled. “I

promise you’ll be safe. I’m gonna take you to Tank’s and my room here. Let

you get cleaned up and eat something. You must want that.”

I flicked my eyes to the men coming out of the building we were parked in
front of. There were many of them.

“Trust me, Adelita.” I turned back to Beauty. “No one’s gonna hurt you. I

won’t let them.”

I took a deep breath and followed Beauty out of the truck. The man who

had driven us here led the way. The second man jumped from the bed of the

truck and took up the rear. I was stared at, and just like before, I kept my

head high. Though my feet were unsteady, we made it to the room.

“We’ll be out here keeping guard,” one of the men said.

“Thanks, darlin’.” Beauty shut the door, and I glanced around the room.

There was not much to it. A large bed sat in the center. There was a

television in the corner and a small bathroom to the right.

 “It’s not much, but it’s better than where you just were.”

Beauty’s eyes traveled down my body to the dress I was wearing. I could

see the confusion in her face. Before she even had a chance to speak, I said,

“I love him.” Beauty met my gaze. “I love Tanner with my entire heart.” I

gestured down to my dress, feeling the need to explain. “This . . .” I shook

my head. Tears sprang to my eyes as I remembered Tanner’s face when he

saw it was me who had been taken . . . when he saw what I was wearing.

He was hurt.

I had hurt him.

“I didn’t know if he was ever coming back,” I whispered. My fingers ran

over the engagement ring on my left hand. I slipped it off, the metal feeling

like it was burning my skin. I squeezed it in my hand and looked up at

Beauty. “I hadn’t heard from him for so long.” I shook my head again. “I

couldn’t keep putting them off anymore. My father . . . he was pushing me

to Diego. And Diego, he was relentless in his pursuit of me.” My nails dug

into my palms. “I had no one to turn to. No one to help. I . . . I didn’t know

what to do.”

“Shh, darlin’.” Beauty wiped a falling tear away from my face with her
thumb. “You don’t gotta explain nothing to me. And as for Tanner . . .” She

smiled. “I just saw him with you in there. The guy went all beast-mode to

protect you. He might be pissed now, but that man is gone for you, sweetie.
Hook, line, and sinker gone.” Beauty moved behind me and started

unbuttoning my dress. “Now, let’s get you out of this and cleaned up. I got

some clothes you can wear.”

I was in a daze as the wedding dress came off and I was ushered into the

bathroom. When Beauty left me alone, I stared at myself in the mirror

above the sink. My hair was disheveled and my skin was pale. The steam

from the hot shower quickly eradicated my face from view, yet I stayed

staring at the place my reflection had been. My brain was consumed with
thoughts. Of my father and what he would do when he found out I’d been

taken. Of Diego, and the vengeance I knew would be coming this way.
But most of all I thought of Tanner. I thought of how he was no longer

with the Klan. He was here, with the Hades Hangmen . . . My stomach fell,
and I had to catch a sob before it fell from my mouth.

We were at war with the Hangmen. The Klan was at war with the
Hangmen. Tanner was no longer with the Klan. He was now a brother of the

Hangmen.
I rubbed my hand over my sternum, fighting panic as the truth filtered into

my fogged-up brain.
It was worse.
I didn’t think it could get worse for us.

But this, now, was exponentially worse.

 I stepped into the shower and let the hot water fall over my head. I washed
my hair with the shampoo and conditioner Beauty had left out for me. And I

thought of the past few days. Thought of waking to find the Hangmen
looking down at me. My hands and ankles had been bound with rope. Fear

had flooded my veins, but I never let them see.

I thought back to how the man dressed in black had gotten into my suite.

How he had come through the tunnels . . . Had he searched them all until he
found me?
My hands stopped halfway through rinsing my hair. The only way they

could have known about those underground passages was from me, my
father . . . “Or Tanner,” I whispered into the thick, dense steam. “No . . . he

wouldn’t . . .” But I could think of no other answer.

Anger built at the tips of my toes and traveled up my body. With every

new breath, I felt that anger take hold. I shook from the betrayal. I knew my
father had made it appear that it was a cousin who was getting married.

“Why?” I said to no one but myself.

Drying off, I tried to quell my fury, but I succeeded only in reducing the

roaring flames of ire in my chest to flickering kindling. I left the bathroom.

Beauty was sitting on the bed. “Here, darlin’,” she said, getting up and

handing me some clothes. “This is all I had. Thought it would be more

comfortable than leathers and a tank. There’s some new underwear there
too.”

“Thank you.” I dipped back into the bathroom and pulled on the fitted
sleeveless black dress. I combed my wet hair with a comb I found beside

the sink and brushed my teeth with the new toothbrush and toothpaste
Beauty had left for me too.

I leaned against the sink. My hands shook on the porcelain. I couldn’t get
it from my head that Tanner had a part in the kidnapping—a huge part.

“You okay in there, darlin’?” Beauty asked through the door. I hadn’t
realized I’d been in here that long. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door

and forced a smile. “Look at you!” Beauty said, smiling wide. “You look
beautiful.”

“Thank you.”
Beauty handed me a sandwich of some description. “Here, eat this. You’ll

feel better with something in your stomach.” I forced down the sandwich,
but every bite felt like swallowing sand. My stomach was churning over
and over with the possibility—no, the almost certainty—that Tanner had

been the one to relay my family’s secrets to these men. My family’s enemy.
When I was done, I said, “I’m tired, Beauty. Can I lie down?”

“Sure, sweetie,” Beauty said. “I’ll just be in the corner reading my book.”
She leaned in. “It’s about a duke and a servant girl in sixteenth-century
England. Tank mocks me something fierce for reading this shit, but I can’t

help it. I fucking live for all the romantic crap!”

This time my smile was genuine. Tanner had been right. I did like Beauty.

In another life, perhaps we could have been friends.

Moving to the side of the bed, I lay on the cover and closed my eyes.

Beauty turned off all the lights but a small lamp for her to read by. I closed
my eyes, breathing deeply to shed this feeling of betrayal. How the hell had
it all got so messed up? I answered my own question when I thought back

to that night. To the night when everything changed.

To the love, the loss, and what led us to the mess we were in right now . . .

*****

“No . . .” A pain so intense it sliced through my stomach; I felt like I

couldn’t breathe. I stared at my papa and slowly shook my head. “No . . .” I

cried again, as tears welled up in my eyes. I looked about the room,

searching for some form of relief, but none was to be found.

“They were attacked by Valdez’s men. Run off the road, dragged from the

car to a ditch and shot in the head.” I tried to hold it back. I did, but a
rebellious sob spilled from my mouth. I covered it with my hand to quieten
the noise, but it was no use. She had been my friend. My dearest Teresa.

One of my only two friends in the world was dead.

My father didn’t move from behind his desk. His hands steepled as he

regarded me, coldly. Death was nothing to my papa. Simply part of his
everyday life. “The men who killed them will be taken care of,” Papa

stated, as though I wasn’t breaking enough in front of him. As if one of his

closest friends hadn’t just been killed in cold blood by his number one

enemy. “Go to your suites, Adela. Take the day to mourn Teresa. Then carry
on tomorrow, as you must.”

I looked at my father and wondered how he could brush off so easily

something so devastating. Then I considered how it was always his way. If

you died, it was as though he never knew you. He never talked about my
mother. My own mother was a stranger to me. I knew nothing of her, save

the snippets the staff had given me. And I wondered, if I were killed, how
would he react? Would he take a day to mourn me, then return the next, all
business, “as one must”?

Unable to deal with my father and his coldness right now, I stood up from
the chair and walked out of his room. But with every step I took the

paralyzing sorrow started to build inside me, until it felt like a grenade
about to explode in my chest. I rushed through the hallways, needing air. I

clutched my chest as my brain took me to the very spot I didn’t want it to go.
To Teresa and how scared she must have been today. To that moment she
was dragged from the car and shoved roughly to her knees. More tears fell

as I tried to imagine what it must be like to know for certain that in the next
few minutes, she would no longer be. This was it. She wouldn’t see another
tomorrow.

And I wondered if she felt any pain as she was shot through the head.
I prayed it was a quick death. It was the luxury that all of us in this life

wished for, if taken by an enemy. A quick and painless death. Though, most
of our enemies wouldn’t grant us this death—they’d want to make us pay.

When I burst out of the door, night had fallen. The hacienda’s grounds,
although beautiful and blanketed in moonlight, suddenly felt like a prison. It

was a feeling building more and more lately. The freedom I’d never had was
suddenly becoming all I craved. Well, almost.

I ran into the landscaped gardens and into the high hedges. I didn’t know
if anyone was around. At this moment, I didn’t care. I was lost, with no one

to turn to . . . or, at least I did have someone—want someone. Unfortunately

I was unable to go to him for fear of us being discovered.

Tanner’s face sprang into my mind at this moment. I didn’t know how we
had gotten here, to this place. I didn’t know how he, the man I was never

meant to like, let alone desire, had become my sun. Had become the star of
my every waking thought. But he had. He had become my center—the
anchor that kept me still.

But I didn’t know how, after tonight, I would survive. Because he was
leaving. After four long visits, each time stealing another fraction of my

heart and soul, tomorrow he would leave. The contract that kept him here
was done. And there were no plans for him and his father to return.

Teresa . . . gone . . . Tanner . . . going . . .

Another sob soared from my throat and I sank down to the dirt. I set the

tears free. I liberated the tears that were stinging my eyes to the point of
pain. Drop after salty drop flooded my face, robbing me of breath. I never

let myself give into my emotions, not even in private. I had been schooled to
never let them rule me, to let them usurp my strength. But this time I

couldn’t stop it. This time I gave in; I was lacking hope. This world I lived
in wasn’t fair. My friend had just been shot dead—a risk we all lived with
every single day. And the man I loved, the forbidden half of my heart, was
leaving and there was no way we could ever be together.

“Lita?”
I started, looking up as a voice I so desperately wanted to hear drifted into
my ears. Tanner came rushing toward me from a gap in the tall hedges. His
face was racked with worry. He dropped down beside me and swept me into
his arms. I allowed myself a second of his comfort before I pushed away
from his warm embrace.

“No,” I whispered, scanning around us. “You can’t . . . we can’t . . . we

can’t be seen.”
Tanner’s face frosted over, wearing the hard mask he once used on me. But
not anymore. Now his face was soft, his blue eyes kind . . . and his touch
was gentle whenever we were together. At times, I saw the war he fought in

his tight expression. But he kept returning to me. Kept kissing my lips.
“Fuck that,” he said, voice low and stern. “You’re upset.” Tanner reached
for me again. “I saw you running as I looked out the window of my room.”
He dragged me back into his arms. This time I melted against him and let

the foreign feeling of comfort seep into my bones. My head fell against
Tanner’s hard chest and he cradled me against him. And I fell apart. There
was no pride in being a Quintana right now. In this moment I was lost;
Tanner was the man who had found me and given me a home.

“She has died,” I whispered. My voice shook, wrapped in a breathless

rasp. “Teresa, my friend . . . was murdered by Faron Valdez today.” Tanner
held me tighter as though he was struggling too. I lifted my head and saw
that Tanner’s face was stone; his mood seemed glacial. His blue eyes flitted

to mine. Then I saw it . . . Tanner Ayers let down his defenses and I saw
what had him so troubled.
 What had happened to Teresa . . . it had shaken him to his very
foundations.

Was he worried . . . for me?

“Tanner,” I whispered and lifted to my knees. I wrapped my arms around
his tense neck, watched his cheek twitch. He swallowed back the emotion he
was trying so hard to disguise. “Talk to me.”

“I can’t lose you,” Tanner admitted. As his words hit my ears, I felt my
heart explode in my chest. I stilled. My breathing became labored and I felt
fresh tears track down my cheeks.
“You won’t,” I reassured. Tanner inhaled deeply.

His hands came up and cupped my face. “You have people after you all
the time.” He paused to gather himself. “You could get attacked every time
you walk out of the main gates.” Tanner’s hands were locked on my face. I
held his wrists. “Fuck!” he swore. “I won’t be here to keep you safe.”
My stomach turned in dread of not seeing him again. Of not having him in

my life. Tanner went to speak again, but I didn’t hear it. My nerves jangled,
my emotions were over-wrought. They switched from Teresa to Tanner, and
the thought of not being in his arms again. Of having him express his
feelings to me. Of hearing this man who had been crafted into being a

violent, terrifying killer. Consumed by prejudice and bigotry, who through

us, had started seeing life in a different way. Questioning his values—the

ones that had been beaten into him since he was a child.
The scars on his back told the story of how an innocent boy had been hurt
and wickedly crafted into the man his father had so carefully molded. The
scars on his back and chest sang a harrowing song of a little boy crying out
to be heard and loved, only to be soured against the variety of life, cultures

and all the colors that enrich this world.

My hands ran over every scar. I prayed my touch—a touch that he once
believed sullied and vile—would inspire him to leave the life that had been
forced upon him. I hoped it would drive him to break away, to truly love, to

laugh . . . and to live.

Tanner’s mouth was tender against mine. I felt desperate for his lips and
kiss. Tanner took control, keeping it soft and gentle. He might not have said
the words, but with this kiss, he told me he loved me. When everything

seemed cruel and dark, he cast in me a single flicker of light. I prayed that
it was strong enough to hold its flame when he was gone.
I couldn’t break away. I needed to breathe, but I didn’t want his mouth to
tear from mine. I wanted to keep his palms on my face, with my hands

soothing the scars he had borne for too long.

I moaned into his mouth, and under his touch I let myself forget where we
were. I foolishly let my defenses down to the danger getting caught with him
would pose. Tanner started backing me down to the ground, then suddenly

the echo of a gun safety being released sounded like thunder around us.
Tanner froze against my lips.
I slowly pulled back my mouth from Tanner’s. Shock rendered me
speechless. Vincente, my guard and Diego’s best friend, had his gun pointed

at the back of Tanner’s head. “Vincente—”

“Quiet,” Vincente ordered. He flashed his dark eyes my way and I saw the
clear judgment of betrayal glaring back at me. My hands shook as I next
looked to Tanner. He was crouched on the ground, unmoving. I had to do

something. I got to my feet.

“Vincente,” I whispered. “Get back from Señor Ayers.” Vincente’s lips
rolled over his teeth, showing his anger. “This isn’t a request. It is an
order.”
“With all apologies,” Vincente said, “I have orders from Diego that take

precedence.” Like hell he did!

“And what are those?” I asked, seething that Diego would dare defy me.
“That if you were ever caught with anyone romantically, I was to kill them
on sight.” My stomach fell and my hands shook with dread. Had we been

too obvious? Did Diego suspect something?

No . . . we had been careful. It was just Diego and his jealous nature. He
had been this way since we were children.
 Suddenly, Tanner leaped to his feet and knocked the gun from Vincente’s

hand. In seconds he was behind Vincente. I didn’t have time to even blink
before Tanner’s hands had wrapped around Vincente’s head. Vincente’s
eyes, for a split second, fixed on mine. Then Tanner’s hands moved, the
crack of Vincente’s neck snapping under his touch echoing around the silent

garden.
I didn’t move my eyes from Vincente’s. They remained fixed on mine, until
Tanner dropped him to the ground. My limbs went numb with shock. I
stumbled back. Vincente . . . I had known Vincente since I was a child. I

couldn’t wrest my eyes from his dark hair, from his suit, dirtied by the path.
From his stiff body, from his wide-open eyes now staring into nothing.
I gasped, as what had happened started to sink in to my fogged mind.
“Tanner . . .” I whispered. My hands flew to my mouth to stop the scream I

felt building in my throat.

Tanner came around Vincente and took hold of me. He pulled me against
his chest, then kissed my head. He scanned all around us. “I have to hide
the body.” Tanner spoke calmly, but I could see the urgency in his eyes.

“Go back to your rooms,” he ordered. But my feet wouldn’t function. I

could feel the paralyzing sensation of shock taking control of my body.
Tanner’s hands cupped my face. “Baby,” he said. Even in all of this mess,
this nightmare we had just found ourselves in, the endearment dragged me
from my stupor. “Baby . . . you need to move.”
Nodding, I cast one last glance at Vincente and fought the urge to vomit. I
backed away from Tanner slowly. “Go!” Tanner turned round and slung

Vincente over his shoulder, disappeared into the thick foliage of the garden
and then into the surrounding blackness of the forest.
When they were out of sight, I traveled through the maze of garden paths
until I arrived at my suite. I slipped inside and rushed to the bathroom. I

turned on the shower, stripped and moved under the faucet. A deep sense of
dread was the dominant feeling as my head dropped and I let myself fall
apart. My tears mixed with the running water and circled the drain.
Teresa.
Tanner.

Vincente.
It was all too much. My hands flattened on the wall. I thought of Diego
and what he would do when he realized Vincente was missing. What he
would do if he found out Tanner was the man who had killed Vincente.

My thoughts traveled to Tanner, how easily he snapped Vincente’s neck

with absolutely no qualms and seemingly no remorse. Cold shivers broke
out over me when I realized this was who Tanner was. This was what he did
—he killed. And he did so with efficiency.
 I remembered Valdez’s man who had tried to kill us near the safe house,
how equally as mercilessly Tanner killed him. Yet . . . as much as I should
be running far from this ruthless man, it only made me want him more. He
was savage in his kills. But he was doing it to protect me . . . to protect us.

I stepped out of the shower and dried off. I slipped on my nightgown and
lay down on my bed. My eyes were wide open. Only the small lamp beside
me illuminated the room. I should have felt numb. Teresa should have been
my biggest thought. But I was racked with worry and anxiety as I waited for

Tanner.
My stomach flipped over in nerves. What if he was discovered? What if
Diego had caught him? How did he know where to bury Vincente’s body?
What did it mean for us?

If there was the slightest chance that we could be together, it was now
gone. Tanner had Quintana blood on his hands . . . it would never be
forgiven. My father, if he found out, would execute Tanner on the spot,
contract be damned. Nobody slighted my father or his cartel.

The mass of questions and dread filled my brain to the point that I couldn’t
lie down. Fear for Tanner made me jump from the bed and pace my room. I
was sure my feet would wear down the thread on the antique carpet with my
frantic movements. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to settle until Tanner
returned to me. Then we’d figure out what to do. Where to go from here. I
stopped dead, staring into nothing when the truth hit me.
Nothing. There was absolutely nothing we could do. There was no chance

for us to be together. His brotherhood would never let it happen—I was

inferior to them. And I didn’t care if my father had a contract with
Governor Ayers. I knew it was tenuous at best. Because, like my father
always did, he would turn on the Klan when they least expected it and take
them out. Father’s contracts never lasted long.

He would forbid me from being with Tanner.

There was no hope.
Too trapped in my head, in despair, I didn’t hear the door to my rooms
click open until I saw Tanner moving in my peripheral vision. My feet woke

up and I ran toward him, jumping into his arms and wrapping my legs
around his waist. Tanner’s strong arms came around me and held me so
tightly I could barely breathe. But I welcomed the smother. I wanted to feel
Tanner in every way.

I tucked my head into the crook of his neck and inhaled his scent. I could
smell the freshness of earth and grass on his skin. Tanner began walking
with me and took us to my bed. He laid us down, and I finally let myself pull
back from his hold to study his face. His eyes were wide, and for the first

time, I saw something in their depths—worry. Tanner never seemed to

worry or at least express it. But it was here now. I could feel it vibrating off
him in thick waves.
Running my hand down his stubbled cheek, I asked, “Is he . . .?”

“It’s been taken care of,” Tanner said and then pressed his lips to mine. I
kissed him back, savoring his taste and the feel of him.
When he broke away, I ignored the trembling of my lip and whispered,
“You can never come back.” My hand shook as I ran my fingers over his

shaved head. “If Diego ever finds out you killed Vincente . . .” I trailed off,
not even wanting to say those words aloud, fearful that if I let them out into
the universe it could somehow make them come true.
Tanner looked away. “I killed him for us. He was going to say something. I

had to protect you.”

“I’m not mad.” I placed my hands on his face and turned him so I could
meet his eyes. “He was going to kill you.” I swallowed back the lump
blocking my throat. Words I had to say didn’t want to leave my mouth, but

they had to be said. We were on a countdown now. Tanner was leaving

soon . . . and he could never return. “Mi amor,” I half whispered, the
endearment feeling so right as I addressed it to this man. Tanner’s eyes
melted from worry to sadness. His hands tightened on my waist, holding on,
like he never wanted to let go.
 “We can never be,” I whispered. I was sure I felt my heart break into a
million pieces. Tanner shook his head, ready to argue, but I placed my

finger on his lips—lips that had once uttered derogatory words. Lips I now
had come to adore . . . no, need. As much as I needed air in my lungs.
“Please don’t,” I urged, feeling a tear slip from the corner of my eye. I took
a deep breath, then stated, “I love you, Tanner Ayers.” I laughed at the
absurdity of our situation. I was cartel. He was Klan. A fish and a bird had

more of a chance of living a happy life together than we did. Tanner sucked
in a sharp breath and held me closer. I smiled even though I was breaking.
“I hated you. Then wanted you . . . now I both love and need you.
Completely.” My smile faded and a silent sob fell from my lips. “My prince.

My love . . . my life.” I studied every part of his face. Committed his scent to
memory. Branded invisible tattoos of his touch on my skin.
“I love you too,” Tanner rasped. In the silence, I was sure I could I hear
my soul cry. Tanner’s hand trailed up my arm and rested on the side of my

neck. “Fuck, Adelita . . . I love you. I need you.”

My forehead fell to his and we simply breathed. My body and mind were
exhausted with the events of the day. But my spirit was worse—it had
expired, knowing I would never have this man walking beside me in life.

“I’ll leave,” Tanner announced and pushed back my face only a fraction
from his. I saw the promise in his gaze. My heart jumped from dormant to a
sprint in mere seconds. “I’ll leave the Klan.”
“Tanner . . .”

“It’s wrong. I know it now.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he kissed me,
silencing me. “I’m done. I’m done with it all. My father. The fucking misery
of living in that life.” Tanner’s eyes shone and the sight was my undoing. I
stayed his unfallen tears with a kiss on each of his eyes. He wrapped his

arms around me and pulled me to straddle his lap. “I want you, Adelita
Quintana.” His voice was thick yet certain. “I want you. Nothing else
matters.”
I couldn’t read the expression on Tanner’s face. I knew this side of Tanner

by now. He had something to say; he just needed time to get the words out.
Pressing his lips to mine, he rolled me over until he was above me. His kiss
was slow and soft and unhurried. I let him take the lead. He kissed along
my neck and down to my chest. My hands slipped along his shaved head,

just before he sat up. Tanner held out his hand and I took it. He wordlessly
guided me up. He sat back on his haunches and tore off a strip of material
from his white shirt.
I didn’t know what he was doing. But when he reached for my left hand
and brought it to his mouth. When he singled out my ring finger and placed

the softest of kisses on my skin, my heart began to flutter. “Lita,” Tanner

said and took the small strip of white cotton he was holding in his hand. He
slipped it around my finger, then tied the edges until the scrap of cotton

made a ring. My hands were shaking. I brought my eyes to meet his.

Tanner’s cheeks were flushed. “Adelita . . .” he rasped. “Marry me.” My
eyes widened as the words I’d so wished for spilled from his lips.
“Tanner,” I whispered and stared down at the white cotton. Not gold nor a
diamond, yet the most precious thing I’d ever seen. I lived a life of luxury.

Yet this torn piece of cotton had made me the happiest I’d ever been in my
life.
“I’ll find a way,” he promised and held my hand again, running his thumb
over the makeshift ring. “I’ll find a way for us to be together.” My entire

body felt light and racked with shivers that his promise inspired. He kissed
my hand again. “I don’t know how I’ll do it. But I’ll find a way for us to be
together. I’ll get out of the Klan. I’ll make it safe for us to live.” He
breathed in deeply. “I’ll take you away where it’s just us.”

Tanner held his breath as he looked at me from under his eyelashes. He

was nervous, I realized. Nervous I’d say no. It made my heart swell to see
such a formidable man so anxious for my reply.
I didn’t make him wait long. I edged closer to Tanner, and whispered,

“Yes.” Tanner’s hand squeezed mine in response. “Yes . . . I will marry you.
Someday. Somehow. No matter how impossible, we’ll find a way to be
together.”
 Tanner pulled me in and crushed his mouth to mine. He lowered us down

onto the bed and slipped off my nightgown. Slowly, I rid him of his clothes
until we were both naked under the comforter on my bed. He never let go of
my left hand as he pushed inside me. As he rocked back and forth, lovingly
and slowly, kissing me on my lips, my face and my throat. I was consumed

by the White Prince. I was so deeply, madly in love with him that I wasn’t
sure how I could let him go when morning broke.

“Love you . . .” Tanner whispered in my ear when his pace increased and

he tucked his head into my neck. His breath caused shivers to ghost down
my spine as it bathed my skin in protective warmth. His fingers curled

around mine as our breathing became labored and we fell over the edge of

pleasure.
Tanner lay on top of me and I embraced his warmth. I ran lazy strokes on

his back with my hand, staring at the cotton around my finger each time it
came into sight. I didn’t know how long we lay this way, but when the first

rays of the morning sun came peeking through my windows, my heart sank.

Our time together was finite; Tanner would have to go back to his rooms to
ensure he wasn’t discovered.

I faced Tanner on the bed. He had yet to release my hand. My hand stood
in stark contrast to his. For something he once found so repulsive, I

couldn’t help but think that our hands, clasped together, and full of
promises, now looked nothing short of perfect. “You gotta wait for me,”

Tanner whispered. His voice was graveled, betraying the emotion he was

feeling—that we both were. “I need time to get out. To plan. To figure out a
way for us to be together.”

“I will wait,” I promised.

Tanner breathed out. “No matter how long it takes. Don’t give up waiting.

Promise me. It won’t be quick.”

“I promise.” Tanner’s shoulders relaxed. I glanced down at the makeshift

ring and wanted to give Tanner something from me in return. Something for

him to hold onto when all seemed lost and hope was a distant star.
Reaching for the clasp, I brought my golden cross necklace between us.

Taking his hand, I dropped the cross in his palm and said, “I want you to

have it, mi amor. I want you to keep it. Think of me. Even when you doubt
how much I love you, look at this and know that I am thinking of you too.

Missing you too.”

Tanner held the necklace in his palm. And we lay that way for the time we
had left. I drank in the color of his eyes, his lips, and the small smile he

gave me whenever I kissed his mouth. I would keep them all in my heart
until the day I saw him again. When we would be free, able to live and

love . . . and be happy . . .

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eight

Tanner

I rubbed my neck as I left Styx’s office. Brothers were everywhere, the

lockdown in full effect. The visiting brothers took up in RVs and tents

outside. I passed by AK, Phebe, and Saffie, heading into AK’s room. Saffie
was tucked into Phebe’s side, ignoring everyone around her. Little Ash and

Zane brought up the rear, carrying their bags. As I approached Tank’s door,
I saw Maddie and Flame disappearing into his room down the hallway.

Brother was walking now, though he looked like he was still favoring his
wounded side.

“Tann?” I turned and saw Tank approaching. He had some bags with him.

He glanced to the door. “You going in to see her?”

“Yeah.” I stared at the wooden door. Nerves and anger were swirling in

my gut. I felt that fucking golden cross she had given me burning my neck.

“Give me some time,” I said to Tank. “Gotta talk to her then I’ll take her to
my room.”

“You squared that away with Styx?”

Anger shot through me. She was my fucking woman. I shouldn’t have to

square shit away. “She ain’t allowed out. She’s under room arrest. But I
wouldn’t be bringing her out anyway. I trust our chapter, but not sure some

of the other cunts here wouldn’t be gunning her way given half a chance.”

Tank’s hand came down on my shoulder. “I’ll take Beauty for a drink.

Styx and Ky have just gone for Li and Mae. She’ll no doubt wanna help

them when they get here. Being that they can hardly move they’re that
pregnant.” Tank knocked on the door. Beauty opened it seconds later,

putting her finger on her lips. She ducked out of the room.

“She’s asleep,” Beauty said quietly. My stomach turned. I wanted to see

her. I wanted to see how she looked again when she was at peace. But then

that fucking wedding dress popped in my head and a surge of fury pushed
those thoughts away. Beauty put her hand on my arm. “She’s all cleaned up

and I’ve given her food and clean clothes.”

Leaning in, I kissed Beauty’s cheek. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Beauty smiled. “She’s gorgeous, Tanner. I can see why you left the Klan

for her. I couldn’t stop looking at her when she was all cleaned up. She’s

that stunning.”

She was. Adelita was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen. And in that
wedding dress . . . in white . . . My chest tightened just thinking about it.

Thinking of her and what she looked like. What I always dreamed she’d

look like when she was walking down the aisle to me. Giving herself to me.

Not some other cunt.

 “We’ll give y’all space,” Tank said and put his arm around Beauty’s

shoulder.

“Holler if you need me for anything,” Beauty added.

They walked away into the mass of activity in the club. The noise from the

bar was deafening when the door was opened. My hand sat on the

doorknob, when I saw Viking coming toward me. He stood beside me,
leaning against the wall. I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m on guard now.” He smiled, then pointed to the room where Adelita

was. “So . . . you like the Latinas, huh?” Fucker nodded like I’d just

answered him with yes. “Those red-blooded bitches do something real

special to my cock as well, ya feel me? Like when they shout and scream in

that language, and that accent. Shit, brother. It’s like a personal mating call

to my dick. Bastardos!” he imitated in the shittest Mexican accent I’d ever

heard. He pointed to his crotch. “See?” I wasn’t fucking looking at his cock

in his jeans. “Like a damn mating call.”

Exhaling a slow, measured breath, I turned the knob and opened the door.
Viking grabbed my arm before I could enter. “Feel free to be loud, brother.”

He winked. “I’m not shy.”

“No shit,” I countered, then slipped into the room. It was dark but for a

lamp in the corner. Adelita was on the bed. She was dressed in a black dress

like some of the other Hangmen bitches wore—Beauty must have got it
from her store. It did something to me, seeing her in it. Ever since I’d joined

the Hangmen, I’d imagined her in something like this. I’d imagined her

wearing my cut.
Walking to where she lay, I glanced down at her and my chest tightened.

She was as beautiful as I remembered. Her hair was damp, but still as long

and as dark as the day I met her. And even with no makeup, her signature

red lipstick missing, she looked just as stunning as she ever was. More so,

in fact.

Taking a seat on the armchair in the corner, I watched her. I never moved

my eyes from her face. I thought about it all. The first time I met her until

the morning I left with my makeshift ring on her finger and her cross in my

palm. That and a whole fucking load of nerves about whether I could get

away from my father and the Klan. Whether I could find a place where we

could be together without her father and my Klan brotherhood putting

targets on our heads.

She looked older than the last time I’d seen her. But I hadn’t seen her in so

long that she almost felt like a dream to me. Someone I manufactured in my

brain. Yet here she was, asleep before me. And I was free. I was out of the

Klan and she was in my club. Away from her old man and that fucker Diego

who I hated pretty much more than anyone I’d ever met.
 It was all a mess. Everything stood to go to shit. But she was here with me,

and for the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe. The noose that had

been tight around my neck for two years slackened some.

I ran my hand down my face, my head throbbing as I tried to think about

where the fuck to go from here. I slumped in the chair and waited for her to

wake. The noise from the bar was drowned out by the sound of her soft

breaths. It helped me calm down. She’d always had that effect on me.

Calm.

Centered.

And even knowing she was marrying someone else, everything inside me
told me she was still mine.

And it was about time she was reminded of that fact.

*****

I woke up to the sound of rustling from the bed. My eyes fixed on Adelita

as her head rolled on the pillow and her eyes started to open. My hands

balled into fists on the armchair. I didn’t know how the fuck this was going

to go. I didn’t know if I could keep my calm.

When her dark eyes opened and fixed straight on mine, I knew I couldn’t.

I kept my mouth shut. It was the best option. Adelita was slow to pull
herself from her sleep. Christ knew if she’d slept at all these past few days.

I watched her, waiting for any sign of where this reunion would go. I had

my answer when she shot upright, her dark hair flicking over her shoulder

and her face filled with fury.

“You told them,” she hissed, and swung her bare feet off the side of the

bed. She pointed at my face. “You told them about the tunnels. You told

them about the secret passages in my father’s hacienda!” Her accent was

thicker than it had been years ago. But I knew why. Her anger caused her

perfect English to slip.

“You broke your promise,” I accused, coldly, roughly. My blood started to

heat in my veins, boiling me up from the inside. “I fucking did everything I

said I would.” I got to my feet and started pacing before I lost my shit and

put my fist through the wall. “I fucking left the Klan. I worked hard to make

it in with the Hangmen, proved myself to this club so we could be safe—so

you could be safe when I got you out.” I laughed, but there was fuck-all

humor behind it. “And I come to find you’re getting fucking married.

Married! After everything we promised each other.” I ripped the collar of

my tank down and bared her necklace. “I kept this with me always. Kept it
with me to remind me you loved me. That’s what you said, right? That all I

had to do was look at it and know you loved me, even though you weren’t

here with me?” My eyes caught sight of the ruined wedding dress that now
hung on the closet door. I stopped dead and stared at the fucking thing.

Turning to Adelita, I asked, “Who was it?” Adelita blinked, then her face

flushed. She was hesitating to tell me. There was only one person who

would make her reluctant to say.

The blood that had been heating in my veins surged to fucking piping-hot

lava, when I growled, “Tell me it wasn’t him.” Adelita’s eyes dropped for a

split second. My body shook with fury. “Tell me!” I demanded, my voice

rising too loud. “Tell me it wasn’t that cunt Diego!”

“YES!” Adelita yelled back. I couldn’t fucking take being in this room one

more second with her. Turning on my heel, I made for the door, but Adelita
stepped in front of me before I could get there. Her hands planted on my

chest and she shoved me back. She weighed almost nothing. I stepped back
as she came for me again.

“Hijo de puta!” she hissed. I had no idea what the hell she just said, but I
knew it wasn’t good. It only served to piss me off even more. Her hand

came up out of nowhere and sliced me across the face.

I was fucking done.

When she came for me again, I grabbed her wrists and shoved her back
until she slammed against the back of the door. She tried to fight me, but I
lifted her hands above her head and got right in her furious face. “Stop,

bitch!”
 “You stop!” she snapped. She fought against my hold but she couldn’t
move. She screamed in annoyance and I smiled. “I hate you,” she spat. She

thrashed in my arms, but I held her tightly. “You have no idea what it was
like with you gone!” Her voice cracked and she fought hard to breathe. “I

hadn’t heard from you. I didn’t know if you still wanted me, needed me.
My father and Diego decided for me that I would marry. I had no choice!”

she shouted. “I was trapped, with nowhere to go and no one to go to for

help!”
“I was coming back for you! I just needed fucking time! I was almost

ready!”
Adelita’s chest rose and fell with how fast she was breathing. Her tanned

cheeks were red with anger and her eyes were wide and furious. She leaned
forward and snarled, “You told these men—my father’s enemies, my

enemies—how to find me. You led the wolves straight to my door. How is
that protecting me, Tanner Ayers? How is that helping me?”

“We were told it was some fucking random cousin who was getting
married. They came for her. I never for a second believed it would’ve been

you!”
Adelita shook her head while I tried to regain some kind of sanity, before I

smashed my hand through the door. “My father trusted you. I trusted you,
and you join the men at war with my people?” Freezing, I laughed. I
fucking laughed. Adelita’s lips grew tight. “Do not laugh at me!”

She arched her back from the door, her tits scraping against my hard chest
as she tried to escape my hold. But I barely noticed it. I was too consumed

with the fact that she thought we—the Hangmen—were the bad ones. “You
have no idea,” I growled close to her face. “You have no fucking idea what

you’re talking about.”

Adelita’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“You wanna know what deal our fathers were making when we were in
Mexico?”

Adelita froze. “Drugs. Papa said it was drugs.” She said it with such trust
toward her father that some of my anger fell. He was all she had, all she’d

ever had . . . and she had no fucking idea what a sadistic cunt he was.
“No,” I corrected, my voice less vicious than it was before. “It wasn’t

fucking drugs, princess.” I made sure to look her dead in the eye when I
said, “It was women.”
Adelita gasped. Her head started shaking in disbelief. “No,” she denied,

with conviction. “What are you talking about? Papa would never deal in
that!”

I moved closer to her, pinning her against the door so she would listen.
“Your papa did. And so did mine.” Her head started shaking again. She was
getting ready to argue; I spelled it out for her so she would believe it. “They

steal women, drug them with your papa’s heroin, transport them to camps,
and then let men pay to fuck them. And they earn a pretty penny doing it.”

“No!” she cried, her eyes filling with tears. “Why are you saying this?”
Her whisper became harsher when she raised her chin, and countered, “It is

this club. These men. They are lying! My father would never—”
“He fucking sells women off to fuck knows who. To be slaves, or
whatever they want from them.”

“That is not true!” A tear fell down her face, but she flicked her head so
the rebel tear would fall to the floor and not show her weakness.

“It is—”
“I said it FUCKING ISN’T!”

My whole body shook with rage at her shitty attitude. Not saying a word, I
kept hold of one of her wrists and opened the door, dragging her down the

hallway. I didn’t care if it was forbidden. The bitch needed to know the
truth and I knew a few people who would make it as fucking plain as day.

Viking moved out of our way, slow clapping and showing by his shit-
eating grin that he’d heard everything. I stormed toward the bar. As I

smashed the door open, the brothers all turned to look our way. I focused on
Hush and Cowboy, then AK, who was sitting at the table beside them.

“Where are your bitches?”

 Hush and Cowboy stood. “Why?” Hush asked.

“Where are they?!” I shouted. I didn’t have time for their shit right now.
Adelita was pulling back against my hand and I was two seconds away

from fucking exploding.

“They’re in the old ladies’ room,” Beauty said as she pushed past us. “I’ll

take you.” I dragged Adelita behind me, her feet digging in as she tried to
plant them on the floor. She yanked on my arm, but there was no way she

was getting free until she heard this. She was a sheltered bitch who needed
a damn reality check.

Beauty led us to the room at the opposite end of the club. I saw Styx and
Ky in Styx’s office. The minute Styx saw me dragging Adelita by, he flew

from his seat and came storming after us, face like fucking thunder. I wasn’t
taking her back to my room until she heard from the victims’ mouths what

went down. What her precious father was capable of. What all the cartel–
Klan deal had been about.
Beauty opened the door and I pulled Adelita inside. I saw Mae, Lilah, and

Grace on the sofas. Phebe, Saffie, Bella, and Sia were on the seats beside
them. They all turned to see us.

“Tanner?” Mae said. Styx came in behind us, followed by Ky.

“What the fuck?” Ky questioned, turning to me.
 I found Sia, ignoring everyone else, and demanded, “Tell her.” Sia looked
confused as her eyes fell on Adelita. I pulled Adelita beside me. “This is

Adelita Quintana. Alfonso Quintana’s daughter and my fiancée.”

Sia swallowed, eyes wide. “Adelita? From the Quintana cartel?” Her voice
shook. I felt Adelita tense in my hands at the fact that Sia had heard of her.

I nodded. “Tell her what her father is dealing in.” Sia looked at Phebe,
who had Saffie clutched tightly in her arms. Saffie’s eyes were huge as she

stared at Adelita, and her face had gone deathly white. “Tell her what
happened to y’all. She won’t believe me and it’s pissing me the fuck off.”

“Tanner, cut the shit.” Hush’s voice hit my ears and he went to stand
beside Sia. Cowboy followed him. They both flanked her.

“She won’t fucking believe me! She thinks we’re all making it up to ruin
her father. Thinks all the trafficking shit is just a way to bring down

Quintana’s name.”
Cowboy crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, let me tell you, bitch, we

were there,” he said, talking to Adelita. “We’ve seen the camps. Camps run
by your father’s and Tanner’s father’s men.”

“You lie,” Adelita hissed at Cowboy, anger lacing each word. She was
shaking with fury.

“He isn’t lying, darlin’.” This time it was Sia who was speaking. Sia
stepped out from Hush and Cowboy’s blockade and came toward Adelita.
Adelita was shaking harder as Sia stopped before her. Sia regarded Adelita
curiously, then asked, “Did you know a man named Garcia?”

Adelita stopped dead in my arms, grew completely still. She glanced back
to me, and I could see from her paling face that she did. I nodded to Sia for

her to keep going. “He and I . . . we used to be together.” Sia held up her
head like she was trying to not be ashamed. “He picked me and my friend

up when we were in Mexico.” She took a deep breath. “And he stole my

friend, drugged her, and then sold her as a whore to anyone willing to pay

the price.”
Adelita sucked in a sharp breath. I thought she’d argue. But I could tell by

her wide eyes and silence that she’d believed Sia. Or she at least was
entertaining the notion.

Phebe then got to her feet, shocking us all. Saffie moved to Lilah, who had
her arms held out for her. The kid was as timid as they came. Barely spoke
and never looked anyone in the eye. She was fucked up by what’d
happened to her in those camps, that was for sure.

Phebe came to stand beside Sia. I felt Adelita grow weaker in my arms.
“Adelita, was it?” Adelita nodded her head. Phebe sighed, then said, “What
Sia said is true. I know this . . .” She closed her eyes and took a minute.
When they opened again, she said, “Because I was taken too.” I heard a

grunt behind me. AK was there in the doorway with Vike. AK’s expression
was severe as he listened to his old lady speak. “I was taken from the
commune I used live in to one of the camps. I was taken by the camp’s

leader. The camps were run by the Klan Tanner used to belong to.” Phebe
glanced at me almost apologetically. But I didn’t care. Whatever it took to
convince Adelita. I knew mentioning my old Klan would help. I’d told her
this was the deal made by our fathers, but I imagined it was different
hearing it from a survivor’s mouth than from mine. “It was a holding camp.

We were there until we were moved to Mexico, where Quintana’s men

would seize control of the girls and do with them whatever they wished.”
“No,” Adelita protested, head shaking. But her voice was nothing more
than a whisper. It shook, and I knew she believed what Sia and Phebe were

telling her.
My grip on her arms loosened and I started running my thumb back and
forth over her bare skin. It was gonna be hard for Adelita to hear. And even
harder for her to cope with. “You must be mistaken,” she said and glanced

back to me. I saw the fear circling in her dark eyes. “My father . . . he is not
a bad man. Not in this way. He wouldn’t do this.” Her voice caught. But
like the perfect cartel princess she was, she tilted her chin and added, “I am
not taking your experience from you. Your truth. But I am sure you’re

mistaken as to who ran this operation.” Adelita brushed her hair from her
face. “There are many cartels in Mexico. The Quintana cartel is not built on
the victimhood of abused women.”

“We’re not wrong, sweetie,” Sia disagreed and tried to give Adelita a
small sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry. But it was all run by the Quintana
family.” She went to stroke Adelita’s arm, but pulled back and crossed her
arms over her chest. “Garcia . . . I was his girlfriend. I wasn’t his slave. He

told me things . . . He worked for your father. He spoke of you to me on

occasion.” She looked sad. “And I accidentally ended up in one of the
camps. I saw one of those hellholes with my own two eyes, darlin’. It’s all
true.”

“No,” Adelita argued again. “I can’t believe it. I won’t! My father

wouldn’t be involved in something like this. He mustn’t know. Someone
must be doing it under his nose. Using his name to get ahead.”
“Princess,” I said, impatiently, “They are responsible for this. Our fathers
are in this together. I sure as fuck know my old man is capable of this. More

than, in fact.”
“My father can’t be.” I heard her voice break. She was freezing in my
arms. “I don’t care what anyone says . . . I won’t believe it’s true.”
Silence grew thick in the room, until, “Is . . . is his name Al . . . Alfonso?”

A small, whispered voice reached us from the back of the room. Adelita
tensed. Phebe looked behind her. At Saffie. Lilah was holding Saffie’s hand,
shock on her face, I guessed from the fact she’d spoken. Never saw much of

the red-headed kid. But every time I did, she looked like she didn’t know
what good looked like. Fuck, from what I knew of her, she hadn’t had
anything good happen to her until she came here. Kid had been to Hades
and back, and returned a fucking walking shadow.
Saffie came to stand beside Phebe, nervous eyes darting all around the

room. I heard a creak from behind me. When I looked back, Lil’ Ash was
beside AK, his eyes fixed on the timid kid. He was rocking from side to
side like he was gonna take her from the room if given half a chance, just to
get her out from all these people. AK kept his hand on Ash’s shoulder,

keeping the prospect in place.

Phebe wrapped her arm around her daughter. Saffie looked at Adelita with
huge, tortured eyes. “Is . . . his name . . . Alfonso?” she asked again, slightly
louder this time.

“Yes,” Adelita said, voice trembling.

Saffie swallowed and held up her chin. “He . . .” She looked to Phebe and
Phebe smiled. Her mother nodded her head in encouragement for whatever
her daughter was about to say. Saffie dropped her eyes and whispered,

“He . . . took me.” I felt Adelita’s sharp inhale of breath and felt my own
stomach plummet. Because I’d never heard this shit. Never heard much of
Saffie’s life outside of knowing she was a cult kid first, then was taken by
Meister to sell to Garcia. Saffie’s voice broke but she pushed through.

“When he came to . . . visit, he would . . . he would be given me . . . he

would always ask for . . . me.”
A pained sob flew from Adelita’s mouth and her hand covered her lips.
She backed into me until she couldn’t move anymore. My heart was racing

at what this kid was saying. I could see how much it was killing Saffie to
say it. Fuck. It was killing Adelita to hear it. A kid. Saffie was a scared
fucked-up kid.
Adelita shook her head, but Saffie said, “He had . . . had a birthmark,

here,” she pointed to her neck. Her hand dropped and impossibly, her face
lost even more color. “I . . . I was never given the potion . . . the potion they
always gave us when men came. He said he wanted . . . me to be present
and awake.” Her breath hitched. “He said . . . he wanted me to remember
him.” She visibly shook, and I thought the kid was gonna pass out. “And I

did. I always . . . will always remember the devil’s . . . mark on his neck.”
“That’s enough.” AK pushed through us all and looked to me. “She isn’t
saying anything all else.” He next faced Adelita. “What the fuck more proof
do you need?”

Adelita’s breathing was shallow. She was deathly still in my arms. I didn’t
think she was gonna speak again. But then she said, “She . . . she doesn’t
need to say anything else.” Adelita looked to Saffie, who was clutching
Phebe again, looking as exhausted as if she’d just ran a fucking marathon.

“Thank you . . .” Adelita held herself together. I was fucking proud of her.
“Thank you . . . for telling me this . . .”
“Saffie,” Saffie offered and gave Adelita a weak smile.
“Saffie.” Adelita noticed all eyes were on her. She turned to me, and my

chest fucking cracked. She gave me a shaky smile, then chin high, said, “I
am ready to go back to the room now, Tanner. I believe I was never meant
to have left under your president’s order, yes?” I wanted to bring her to me,
fucking crash her to my chest, but I knew if I did, she would fall apart. And

that would humiliate her. Adelita had her father’s pride. A pride I would
never break in front of my brothers. In front of anyone.
Taking her hand, I turned and pushed through everyone. “I’m taking her to
my room,” I told Styx as I passed the prez. I didn’t wait to hear what he had

to say about it. I knew Adelita was a few minutes away from breaking, if
the shaking of her hand was anything to go by. As we reached the hallway I
heard the quickening of her breath. I pushed through my door, pulled her
inside and flicked the lock.

When I turned, it was to see Adelita’s face and body crumble. In seconds, I
had her in my arms, keeping her from dropping to the floor. Adelita was
shaking with racking sobs. Her hand came out and held onto my shirt, but
her hands were trembling so much they slipped from me. Scooping her up
in my arms, I took her to my bed and laid her down. I kept my arms around
her as she broke apart. I kissed her head. I fucking kissed every part of her I
could. My shirt grew wet with her tears, but I didn’t give a shit. Adelita had
every right to cry. She’d just found out her papa was not only a fucking

trafficker, but liked to fuck kids too.

As if she was reading my mind, Adelita lifted her bloodshot eyes to me
and asked, “How old is she?” Her voice was raw and hoarse from crying. I
knew she meant Saffie.

I tried to think. “Not sure. Fifteen, I think? Somewhere around that age.”
Adelita’s eyes squeezed shut. “And how old was she when she came
here?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know, princess.” I sighed. “If you’re asking how old
she’d have been when your old man . . .” I left it there. I didn’t need to end

that sentence. She knew what he’d done. “Young. She’d have been real
fucking young.”
Adelita’s face fell and more tears streamed down her face. “Did you know
about the trafficking?” I shook my head. Adelita wiped her eyes. “I don’t

know my father,” she whispered and stared across the room at nothing. “I
have no idea who I have been living with my whole life, but he is a stranger
to me. A demon who has just been discovered residing in a man. A man I
love.” She swallowed and rested her head on her bent legs. “She’s a child,
Tanner. A child.” Adelita’s bottom lip shook. “He . . .” She winced. “She’s a
small child . . . and requested her, he—”
“Stop,” I instructed. I knelt up on the bed and cupped her face. “Stop
fucking thinking it right now or else you’re gonna lose your mind.”

Adelita’s hands gripped my wrists and her eyes squeezed shut.

“I can’t . . .” she whispered. “I cannot simply erase the thoughts from my
mind.” Her head bowed like she had no energy left to keep her head
upright. “The look on Saffie’s face . . .” Her shoulders dropped too. My

hold on her face seemed to be the only thing keeping her from falling to the
bed. “Her mother’s face hearing her daughter had had that experience . . .
the mother herself . . . and the blonde who had relations with Garcia.”
Adelita lifted her head and there was a fucking storm brewing in her dark

eyes. “I knew him, Tanner. I dined with him at my father’s table. We broke
bread and drank wine. I . . .” Adelita’s face flushed with what looked like
embarrassment. “I enjoyed his company.” I tensed. “Not like that, baby,”
she said quickly. Her eyes lost some of their clouds when she saw my

jealousy. “Just . . . in that he seemed like a good man.” She laughed a single
laugh. She stared at the monitors I had in the corner of my room. But I
knew she wasn’t really looking at anything. “My father was right. You were
right.” She turned to me. “When we first met you called me a naïve,
privileged princess who knew nothing of the world. Stuck in my ivory
tower built on blow.” Her bottom lip trembled. “And you were right. Only I
wasn’t alone in that tower.” Adelita squeezed my wrist like I was her only
fucking anchor. “I thought I lived there with knights . . . turns out I was

trapped amongst monsters.”

“Baby . . .” I said and made her look at me. When she did, I saw her eyes
were bright red and filled with pain. “You’re out of there now.” I felt my
heart start to beat faster. “You’re out, and I guarantee you something now.
You ain’t ever going back.”

Adelita’s eyes widened and I swallowed. Like a pussy, nerves started

buzzing through me. Clearing my throat, I said, “You’re out of the
hacienda. I’m out of the Klan . . .” Adelita’s hands were strong as they held
my wrists. “We’re here, princess. We’re fucking here. Finally.”

“Tanner,” she whispered and her face flooded with tears. Adelita glanced
down, but when she lifted her head, she had a smile on her face. “We’re
here.”
I couldn’t hold back anymore. I knew we still had to talk through why the

fuck she’d been getting married to that cunt, but right now, I didn’t care. I
had my woman back in my arms after too fucking long.
Pulling Adelita toward me, I kissed her. At first, she tasted of tears, but
when she kissed me back, I tasted her. That addictive taste only Adelita

ever had. I tightened my grip on her cheeks and pushed my tongue into her
mouth. Adelita moaned and her tongue fought against mine. My hands
moved through her damp hair, then down her back, tracing every fucking
curve of her body. Finding the bottom of her dress, I lifted it slowly, until I

stopped at her tits. Breaking from Adelita’s mouth, I looked at her flushed
face, then glanced down. My cock hardened in my jeans as I saw her long
legs, her pussy and the underside of her big tits. Two years. Two fucking
years since I’d fucked her.

Adelita reached down and covered my hands. Her eyes locked on mine,
and she started lifting her dress, guiding my hands over her tits until she
brought it over her head. Her long hair fell over one shoulder. I’d never
seen her look more perfect. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered, running my

thumb down her cheek and around her lips. Adelita caught my hand with
hers and held it to her lips. Closing her eyes, she kissed my palm. I couldn’t
believe it. I couldn’t fucking believe that we were here. When she opened
her eyes, she lifted my shirt over my head. Adelita took a deep breath after

she’d thrown the shirt to the floor and ran her hand down my chest. Her
hand tracked south to my jeans and my cock almost punched through the
zipper. Adelita snapped the button, then drew the zipper down. She pushed
my jeans down and it was all I could fucking do not to push her to the
mattress and sink inside her.

It had been too long.

 Too fucking long.
Adelita froze, and I knew she’d seen it. “Tanner . . .” she whispered, her

Mexican accent thick as it rolled around my name. It used to bother me,

hearing my name said in such a way. Now it was the best fucking thing to
ever hit my ears. Adelita reached out and traced the tattoo of her necklace
on my chest. “This date . . .” she said, catching the numbers underneath.
“Was the day we met.”

Adelita’s lips twitched before they lifted into a smile. “The very first day?”
Her head tipped to the side and I felt like I’d been punched in my gut by
how fucking stunning she was. “You hated me when we first met. On
sight.”

I smirked. “You fucking destroyed me. One look at you fucking ruined
me.”
Adelita kissed the date. I hissed. Her lips felt good on my skin. “I broke
the infamous White Prince . . .” She looked at me through her thick lashes.

“My greatest accomplishment in life.” Her lips twitched in amusement.

Growling and fucking done with waiting, I pushed Adelita back, laid her
on the bed and shucked off my jeans. I covered her with my body and I
crashed my lips to hers. Adelita moaned underneath me and it felt so

fucking right. Her tits pressed against my chest, her arms and legs wrapped
around me. It suddenly didn’t feel like it’d been years. It was yesterday and
I’d just asked her to marry me. It was her underneath me, me inside her and
her telling me yes.

“Baby,” she whispered against my mouth. I broke away and looked down
at her sprawled out below me. Something shifted in my chest and the heavy
weight I’d been carrying lifted.
She was away from her old man.

I was away from mine.

“Please, Tanner,” Adelita begged. “Make me forget. Take this day away
from me . . . make love to me.”
I kissed her lips again, then kissed down her neck and collarbone.

Reaching her tits, I sucked a nipple into my mouth. Adelita cried out and
clutched my head. I remembered this. I remembered her fire when we
fucked. I remembered her nails digging into my head and the way her back
arched anytime I touched her tits. I groaned, and moved further south until I

reached her pussy. I parted her legs and ran my hands down her thighs.
Adelita’s head snapped back as I ran my thumb over her clit.
“This pussy is mine,” I growled, and pushed my finger inside her.
“Si,” Adelita cried out, and my cock twitched. Unable to hold back, I
leaned down and ran my tongue over her clit. The taste of her . . . it was

fucking everything. Adelita pulled at my hair as she thrashed on the bed.

But I wouldn’t pull away. I licked her more and more until she broke apart.
Crawling over where she lay, breathless and sweating, I put my hands on

her cheeks and made sure I had her attention. The minute I did, her eyes
locked on mine, I pushed inside her. Adelita’s lips parted as I filled her, and
she sucked in a sharp breath.
“Mi amor . . .” she whispered, and I saw tears fill her eyes. Wrapping my
arms around her, I held her as close as I could. I pushed into her again and

again, faster and faster, until Adelita tucked her head into the crook of my
shoulder and cried out into my neck.
Her pussy squeezed around my cock, and the feel of it tipped me over the
edge. Smashing my lips to Adelita’s, I groaned as I came. Lita’s fingers dug

into my arms as I spilled inside her. I rocked into her until I nothing left.
My head dropped to the mattress beside her as I caught my breath. Adelita
kept her arms wrapped around me.
When I pulled back, Adelita rolled her head so she could see me. “I never

thought . . .” she said and a tear fell from her eye. It fucking destroyed me.
“I never thought we’d get this.” She ran her hand over my cheek. “I hoped
and I prayed so hard that I was sure God would tire of my voice. But deep
down, I didn’t think we’d ever escape our lives. I didn’t think you would be

safe leaving the Klan, and I never dreamed I would actually leave the
hacienda and my home.”
 “I told you we would,” I rasped. “I promised you, princess. I don’t fucking

break my promises.”
“You don’t,” she whispered and kissed my cheek where my hand had just
been. “You did it. You kept your word.” Adelita looked away, and a sad
smile pulled on her lips.

“What?”
“You’re the first person who ever has . . . kept their word. Kept their

promises. You, Tanner Ayers. My white prince . . . or maybe it should just

be my prince now. The old title is not who you are anymore.”
My chest and throat felt so fucking full at her words that I couldn’t speak.

So I kissed her. I kissed her, lifting her to the head of the bed and into my

arms. Adelita laid her head on my chest. Her hand found the tattoo of her
necklace. I felt her smile against my chest. “When did you get this?”

I ran my fingers through her dark hair. “Not long after I left the Klan. I got
your necklace inked on me so I would never forget what I was fighting for.”

Adelita lifted her head, then kissed the tattoo of the gold necklace. Her

eyes went to my other tattoos, and her finger started tracing Hitler’s eagle,
the swastika, and the white-power symbol I used to show off with pride.

“Mi amor. Why, if you’ve left this life behind, do you still wear these
tattoos?”
 My jaw clenched as flickers of my old life flashed through my head like a

damn movie reel. “Because it reminds me of what I’ve done.” I cupped

Adelita’s face and made sure she was looking right at me. “I’ve done
fucked-up things, Lita. You get that, right?”

Adelita nodded her head. She covered my hands that were still on her face
with hers. “But you have walked away from that life. You have walked

away from the prejudice, the violence.” She smiled. “You have worked for

two years to change your life to be with me. A Mexican. A proud Mexican.
That, Tanner Ayers, proves you are no longer the man you used to be.” Her

hand started tracing the tattoos again. “Maybe it is time to change them into
something else. Maybe you should start showing the world that you are no

longer the Klan heir.”

My chest loosened from the rope I felt strung around my lungs. Adelita
got to her knees, the comforter falling off us and showing me her naked

body. Fuck. She was beautiful. She sat back on her heels and started

studying me. Every inch of my body. Bitch was gonna make me hard again.
A smile pulled on her lips. My hands held her slim waist. “What?”

Adelita’s fingers threaded through my hair. “You have hair.” She ran her
fingers through the short strands. I hadn’t bothered to shave it again since

I’d joined the Hangmen.

My lip twitched, fighting a smile. “I have hair.”

 “You look different.” Adelita ran her dark eyes all over me. “Parts of you
are still the same, but you seem different. Does that make sense?”

I nodded. “You look exactly the same. Still beautiful. Still perfect. Still

you.”
“And still yours.” As those words left Adelita’s mouth, coldness ran

through me. She must have seen it. Her smile fell and her face clouded with

worry.
“Am I still yours?”

Adelita froze, then dropped her eyes. A second later her gaze met mine,
and she took my hand. “Always.” She took a deep breath, then slowly

straddled my thighs. Her arms hooked around my neck. “I love you, Tanner.

I never stopped. In fact, when you left, my love for you only grew.” Her
voice went hoarse, then she held my face. “I never let him touch me.” I

blew out a breath I didn’t even know I was fucking holding. “I have only
ever made love to you. I couldn’t . . . I wouldn’t . . .” She trailed off.

“You were marrying him.”

Adelita’s head shook back and forth. “He wasn’t you. Would never have
been you.” Her husky voice told me she was getting upset again. “My

father . . .” She blinked away tears that were building in her eyes. “He made

it happen. I resisted his plan for me and Diego for as long as I could. But he
planned it all. I didn’t know what to do or how to get out of it.” Adelita
dropped her head to meet mine. “Even if I had been forced to marry him, I

still would have been yours. You cannot give your heart to someone when it

is already owned by another. I would have found a way, Tanner. To leave.

To run. To get to you . . . somehow.” Adelita’s expression changed to what

looked like worry. “And . . . you? Has there been anyone else for you?”
I rolled Adelita beneath me. “No one. Only you, princess.”

The smile that pulled on her lips knocked the breath from my fucking

lungs. I kissed her. I kissed her for so long her lips looked bruised when I
finally pulled away.

“I don’t want to go back,” she said and the effect of her father’s betrayal

was written all over her face. “I am not going back to those men, Tanner.
Because if my papa is involved in this, so is Diego.” Her dark eyes flared

with anger. “I cannot face them after learning this. After seeing Saffie, the
girl my father hurt over and over . . . after hearing from the other

women . . .” Adelita inhaled slowly through her nose, her eyes momentarily

closing. When they opened, she said, “Did you ever dream we would be
here like this?”

“Yes.”

“Me too.” She kissed me, then whispered, “Please don’t make me go back
now we’ve found each other again.”

“You ain’t going anywhere.”

 In minutes, I was inside her again. Adelita’s arms never let me go all night,

and her lips never stopped touching my skin. I didn’t care what anyone had
to say. She was here with me now.

And she was fucking going nowhere.

I’d die before I let anyone take her from my arms.

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Nine

Styx
One week later . . .

“We ain’t got any intel yet,” Shadow said. “They’ve gone quiet, which in

my experience is never good.”

I lifted my hands and signed, “You hear anything—anything at all from

the Quintanas—and you let us know straight away.” Ky spoke for me.
Chavez nodded his head. “Will do.” I stared at Chavez and couldn’t get

my mother’s journals from my head. Mae didn’t know, but when she went
to bed at night, I came downstairs, poured myself a fucking strong whiskey,

and read. Mae had been reading them too. And I knew when she’d reached

something she thought was important. From the minute I came in at night,
she looked at me differently or came over to me and kissed me, wrapping

her arms around me, choking me to fuck. It was always when my mother

had mentioned me. About how she’d run to Sanchez, run away from me and
my old man. Fucked off out my life.

I didn’t mean to fall for him. I went to him for help. To get River away from

the club. But when I saw Raul Sanchez, everything changed. He didn’t treat
me like a whore. He didn’t belittle me like Shade did every single day. He

didn’t make me feel unwanted—in fact it was quite the opposite.

I stood in his office, asking for help. I was so nervous. Sanchez knew who I

was. He asked me if I was Reaper’s old lady. I told him the truth. That I had

never been more than a whore for him to play around with, toy with like a
pet. I told Sanchez he had my boy. My son. I told him I wanted out of the

club. And I wanted my son out too. I wanted him away from Reaper and the

club, period.

Sanchez stared at me for a while. I panicked, wondering if I had done the

wrong thing. If I had just signed my own death warrant. But then Raul
smiled and told me he would help me. I didn’t know if that was true. But I

was desperate, and I had nowhere else to turn. Reaper had the police and

local government on his payroll. My only choice had been his number-one

enemy. Sanchez was going to help me save River. I was going to save my

little boy . . .

“Styx?” Ky’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I rubbed my hand down

my face. I had to get my fucking self together. A wave of anger crashed

through me. I should never have started reading those fucking journals. I

never thought anything of my mother. Nothing, but the fact she’d been a

slut who’d cut and run. Now, all I fucking did was think about her. About

how she was raped over and over by her fucktard of a brother. About how
shitty my old man had treated her. And how she’d run away to save me. Not

ran because she wanted to fuck Sanchez, like my old man had told me over

and over again. You’re about as fucking good to me as your piece-of-shit

whore mama was, boy. Fucking retarded pussy.

She’d wanted me away from him. From this club. A crowbar hit my

stomach when I thought about it all. Because she’d only been a kid. A teen
when she had me. Still too fucking young when she’d left and got in with

Sanchez.

“Styx!” Ky’s elbow digging into my ribs made me snap my head his way

and grab his wrist. He rolled his eyes as I threw his arm away. “What the

fuck is up with you?” I looked across the table to see Chavez and Shadow

were gone. When the hell did they fucking leave? “They left,” Ky said,

reading my mind. He stared at me weird. “You sleeping?”

“Fuck off.”

Ky smiled. He got to his feet. “I gotta go. Li has an appointment at the

hospital.” When I didn’t move, he asked, “You coming?”

I made to get to my feet, then looked round the empty diner we’d eaten at

and shook my head. “You go.”

Ky frowned. This time there was no fucking smile on his face. “What’s

going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

“N-nothing.”
 “It ain’t safe for you to ride back alone.”

I pointed at the place Shadow had been sitting. “You h-heard him, th-

there’s no s-sign of an attack y-yet. Or even th-that Quintana kn-knows we

have h-her.”

“Yeah, and he also said them going quiet ain’t good.”

“G-go.”

Ky hesitated, but then his cell started going off in his jeans. “Fuck!” He

pulled it out and looked at the screen. “It’s Li. I gotta go. Bitch’ll have my

balls if I’m late.” I flicked my hand, telling him to get the fuck on then. Ky

held the cell to his ear and hightailed it from the diner. “I’m on my way,

sweetcheeks.”

I watched my VP pull out on his Harley, before I got a refill of coffee. I

pulled out the journal from the inner pocket of my cut. No one would fuck

with me here. The owners here knew I didn’t speak for shit. The place was

a ghost town. I had to get back to the club. But I needed a fucking minute.

Opening the journal, I carried on reading.

He got me a house. Raul took me to the place he bought us. It’s away on its

own. Far from the club and away from any threats. When I stepped through

the door, I smiled. Because I’ve never had a real home before. I had a room

at the Hangmen and grew up in a trailer. This is a real home built of wood.
 And there’s a room for River too. River and whoever sits in my stomach.

I’m pregnant to Raul, and I am so so happy. Raul already has a kid, but he’s

left his old lady and promises we’ll make our family work somehow. I’ll get

River back, and he’ll have a brother or sister.

We’ll be a family.

And for once, I will be happy.

My heart was threatening to break out of my motherfucking chest with

how fast it was pounding. She had another kid? Or at least was pregnant

with one?

What the fuck?

I couldn’t fucking sit here anymore. I needed my bike and I needed the

road. Fuck the war and the threats—I needed to fucking ride.

Throwing a twenty on the table, I got out of the diner and slid on my

Harley. The minute the engine started, I tore up gravel and fucking hit the

road. I stuck to the back country roads. All the time my head fucking

pounded. My mama had another kid? I had a brother or sister I didn’t know

about? And had my old man known? Had he known she’d had a kid with

Sanchez when he killed her? Did Chavez know?

FUCK!

I let the wind slap my face as I pushed my bike faster, tearing up the

asphalt. Day turned to night as I kept riding, wind fucking lashing my face.
I rode so long my legs went dead. But I rode on. I rode until I didn’t want to

smash my fist through a fucking wall at what I’d just read. I needed to keep

my shit together. Mae would see through me straight away if I turned up

raging. I wasn’t telling her I’d been reading the journals. I didn’t want

anyone to know I’d been a pussy for giving a shit about the woman who left

me. Or maybe didn’t mean to . . . I didn’t fucking know. My head was too

full—the war, the threats, Mae being pregnant, and now this.

My mama had been pregnant with another fucking kid.

Needing to get back to the compound, to Mae, I turned back and took the

two-hour ride back home. The minute I was through the gate, opened by

Ash and Slash, AK came tearing from the clubhouse. I was braced, ready to

fucking jump into action.

“Where the fuck you been?” AK asked. Vike, Rudge ,and Bull came

bursting out behind. My body tensed, waiting for someone to tell me what

was wrong. “You weren’t answering your cell.” I reached into my pocket

and saw it was dead. I held it up so AK could see. Brother didn’t fuck

around making me wait. “It’s Mae. She’s in the hospital. She went into

labor while you were out. Everyone’s been trying to find you.”
My stomach fucking fell.

Throwing my cell back in my cut, I started my bike and tore the fuck out

of the compound. My hands were fucking iron tight on the handles as I

burned ground all the way to the hospital. I couldn’t get Mae out of my

head. She was fucking alone because I couldn’t get my head out of my ass.

I pulled into the hospital and smashed through the entrance. My eyes

tracked all over the signage for a clue to where my woman fucking was.

The mood I was in, I was gonna fucking rip someone apart if I didn’t find

out where the fuck I had to go.

“Styx!” I turned to see Ky rounding the corner of a hallway. “She’s this

way.” I frowned, wondering why he was here, then remembered he’d been
here with Lilah this morning. As if reading my mind, he said, “We were just

leaving when Beauty came in with Mae.” He looked at me as he punched

the button for the elevator. I didn’t wanna get in the fucking elevator; I

wanted to run up the stairs and get to Mae quicker. “Where the fuck you
been? I couldn’t get you. I had to send brothers out looking for you from

here while Li stayed with Mae and Beauty. Li’s been on my ass to find you.
Thanks, fucker. I really fucking enjoyed that.”

I lifted my hands to sign because there was no fucking way I could speak
right now. “I was riding.” Ky eyed me weird for the second time today, but

I had no time to fucking have questions forced on me. The elevator opened,
and we got in. Ky punched the number for the third floor. My feet fucking
rocked from side to side, blood rushing through my veins as I waited for the

fucking tin box to move.

 “He’s coming, brother,” Ky said, smiling, and slapped me on my back.
“Your fucking kid!” I pushed my hand through my hair as I watched the

numbers light their way to floor three. I just needed to get the fuck there!
When the doors finally opened, I pounded through the hallways and went

over to the reception desk. I opened my mouth to speak, but my fucking

defective throat wouldn’t work.

“River Nash. His wife’s in labor.” Ky spoke for me. The woman behind
the desk’s eyes widened when she saw us . . . when she saw me. She
swallowed nervously and looked to her colleague.

Yeah, bitch, I wanted to say. You got the prez of the motherfucking Hades
Hangmen here right now, and if you don’t let me in to my fucking wife, I’ll

break through the fucking secure doors and kill any fucker that tries to stop
me getting to my bitch.

She must have seen the look of death my eyes promised, because she
tapped something on the computer and stuttered, “Y-you’re on the l-list. I

just gotta see some ID.”

I slapped my license, down on the desk and she checked it. “Room six.”

Ky spun me around and kissed my cheek, winking. “Get the fuck in there.
I’ll wait here.” He looked back at all the people staring our way. Most saw

our cuts. No doubt I looked like Hades himself standing in front of them.
 “You can go through now, Mr. Nash.” The receptionist pointed to the
automatic secure doors, which were opening. Slapping Ky on the shoulder,

I rushed through the doors and searched for room six. It was at the end of
the hallway. Like outside in the reception, the nurses and doctors stared at

me coming past. I knew what they were seeing—a huge, dark-haired,

tattooed prez who looked like he would kill in seconds. I would. Luckily for

them, it was only people who pissed me the fuck off. If they got in my way,
that would mean them.

A loud motherfucking cry came from the end of the hallway; I recognized
that voice straight away. I rushed down the rest of the hallway and smashed

through the door. Beauty and Lilah were standing either side of Mae, a hand
in each of hers.

The minute Mae saw me, her lip wobbled, fucking destroying me where I
stood. “River . . .” Beauty moved. Mae’s hand was held out for me. I took

hold of it and finally got a good look at her. Her black hair was tied back,
strands around her face were wet. Her face was red and covered in sweat.
Her eyes were tired, but she still looked up at me like I was a fucking god.

“River . . .” she said again, her voice breaking. “You made it.” She smiled at
me, and the look on her face broke my fucking heart.

Mae’s hand suddenly squeezed mine tightly. She cried out again, back
arching. Lilah gave her some weird-looking contraption to suck on. Mae’s
eyes squeezed shut, and a nurse came over to check the machines that were

all around her.

“It won’t be long,” she said and gave Mae a big smile, like my wife wasn’t

fucking ripped apart with pain.

“Styx,” Beauty said from behind me. I was fucking lost right now. Could

barely take my eyes from Mae looking like this, gripping on to me while
she was fucking racked with pain. “We’ll wait outside in the waiting room,
okay?”

I nodded. What the fuck was I meant to do in here? When I looked back at
Mae, Lilah was kissing her on the head. “You can do this, sister.” Lilah

smiled. “It will not be long before we have a little boy to love and spoil,
Mama.”

“Yes,” Mae agreed and smiled again. A tear fell down her cheek as Lilah
left the room. When her wolf eyes rolled to me, I fucking broke again. She

must have seen it. “I am okay, Styx.” She squeezed my hand again, but she
had all the strength of a fly. Her hand shook. “I am so happy you are here. I

need you so much.”

The nurse left the room. I wanted to drag her back in by her fucking hair

and demand she take the fucking pain away from Mae.
“I will be okay, Styx.”
 Leaning down, I pressed my lips to hers. Mae, as always, fell into me. My

forehead touched hers. “I f-fucking love y-you.”

I felt Mae smile against my lips, before another contraction ripped the fuck

through her, forcing her to tear her head away and cry out. In seconds, her
doctor was through. Her female doctor. Like fuck I was gonna pay for some

male cunt to have his hands all up in my woman’s pussy.

The doctor moved between Mae’s legs. Mae’s hands tightened in mine.

Her eyes stayed fixed on mine the entire time. I shook with fucking rage.
Anger that, even now, Mae still couldn’t face anyone but me touching her

legs—not that any fucker would dare try. But she couldn’t even stand her
doctor being between her legs. It was because of all of the years of abuse by

those bastards in the cult. Forcing her legs open and fucking her until she
bled.

I kept my eyes on her as the doctor rolled her chair back, got to her feet
and said, “We’re ready for you to start pushing.”
Mae took a deep breath and said to me, “River . . . I am scared.”

My chest fucking snapped. I couldn’t fucking stand her in pain. Was gonna
fucking explode seeing her like this. But I kept my shit together. Leaning

down, I put my ear to her ear. “Y-you got this, b-babe. I’m h-here. I fucking
love y-you and I’m h-here. Y-yeah?”

Mae breathed out, and her hand slackened around mine. “Yes.”
 “Mae, on your next contraction, I want you to push, okay?” Mae nodded at
her doctor. And she did as she was told.

It was brutal. It was fucking torture to watch my bitch go through so much

pain. But she never fell apart. She fucking held onto my hand and pushed
and pushed, until the doctor lifted her head from between Mae’s legs and

said, “One more push, Mae, and your son will be here.”
“Charon,” Mae whispered and smiled up at me. She was exhausted. But I

could see her excitement in her perfect fucking face. Her wolf eyes locked
on mine. “His name is Charon,” she told the doctor.

“Then next push, and Charon will be here.”

“You good, b-babe?” I said in Mae’s ear.

“He will be here soon, Styx. Our son . . . our boy.” A lump the size of
Mars fucking clogged my throat. I kissed her, then Mae was pushing. My

bitch gave it all she fucking had in her tiny body. Then the sounds of crying
filled the room.

My head snapped to the doctor, and my stomach fucking dropped when

she lifted our baby onto Mae’s chest. Mae’s hand slipped from mine and

wrapped around our kid. I was fucking dumbstruck as I stared down at him.
At Mae crying, holding him and looking at him like he was already her

fucking world.
 “Oh, my goodness . . .” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. “He is
perfect, Styx.” She looked up to me and smiled though fucking tears.

“Charon . . . our little Charon.”

I stared down at Mae and Charon and couldn’t fucking breathe. The

python that was always wrapped around my throat squeezed tight. I

wouldn’t be able to talk. But I didn’t fucking care. I had my woman, and

now I had my son . . .

I had a fucking son.

“Styx,” Mae whispered and held out her hand. I put my hand in hers and
she pulled me down. I kissed her lips. “Look, River. Meet Charon. Meet

your boy.” I did as she said. He had dark hair. I didn’t think kids had hair
when they were born. But Charon did. Black hair . . . just like Mae. My

chest tightened when I studied his little face. But then he opened his eyes,
blue eyes, and I was fucking done. He had black hair and blue eyes.
Just like fucking Mae.
“They might change,” Mae said, reading my damn mind. I looked at my

woman. “All babies are born with blue eyes.” But I didn’t think they would
change. Mae’s eyes were fucking perfect. Made sense our son would have
them too.
The doctor took Charon away and cleaned him up. The nurses took care of

Mae. But it wasn’t long before Charon was back in Mae’s arms. I was pretty
fucking sure no one had ever looked so good holding a baby. I sat on the
edge of Mae’s bed, my arm around her, touching my son’s cheek. I was

clearly fucking tired too, because in that moment all I thought about was
my mama. She must have felt like this too. My old man wouldn’t have
given a shit about me. I doubted the cunt was even there when I was born.
I watched Mae kiss Charon’s head, tears rolling down her face in
happiness, and my heart fucking cracked. This, right here . . . it was all I’d

fucking dreamed of. Ever since I’d met the girl behind the fence with the
wolf eyes and weird voice. It’s all I’d ever wanted. To have her as my bitch
and our kids running around my club and my feet.
My mama ran away. Being here right now with Mae and Charon made me

realize just how fucking desperate she must have been to have left. Then to
have come back, knowing my old man would most likely kill her.
“I love him, River,” Mae whispered. “I love him so much already. I cannot
stop staring at his face . . . he is a dream come true.”

As I lay with Mae and Charon, I thought of the fucking war we were in.
The war that was building, getting ready to explode. And I knew, now I had
this—them—I’d fucking fight harder than before. I’d protect my club
harder than ever. And if any motherfucker tried to take them from me, I’d

kill them. I’d cut them open and make them bleed until no blood was left.
No fucker was getting to my family. Nobody.
I smiled coldly when I thought of someone even fucking trying.

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Ten

Adelita

“You’ll be fine,” Tanner reassured me and took hold of my hand. He pulled

me to him on the bed. I went—I would always go—crawling onto his lap

and wrapping my arms around his neck. As I stared into his blue eyes, I still
couldn’t wrap my head around the fact we were here.

At night, when Tanner slept, I would lie awake in fear. Dread would
course through me at a rapid pace. A suffocating weight would gather in my

sternum, a dull persistent ache when I let myself succumb to the idea that
scared me most—that this was all a foolish dream. That right now, Tanner

and I were playing house. Locked up in his room like we were free from

our pasts, free from the shackles that had held us back from running away
when we first fell in love.

I would stare at the ceiling, the room pitch black due to being far away

from the city lights. But even in the darkness, I would see my father’s face.
I would see Diego’s. I would see their men mobilizing to bring me back. I

had no idea if they suspected the Hangmen. But the fact that it was quiet—

too quiet–didn’t fill me with hope. Instead, it filled me with such great

terror that I touched Tanner whenever I could. Each kiss was given as
though it would be our last. I savored his muscles under my hands. His hair

through my fingers. And I cherished how this felt—to be with the one I

loved.

My fiancé.

My heart.
Leaning in, I kissed Tanner, holding on to him tightly. Tanner kissed me

back, then laughed against my lips. My chest warmed as his deep timbre

rumbled through me. If we got through this mess, it would be my greatest

task—to make this man laugh more.

“If you keep grinding your pussy against me like that we won’t be going
nowhere, princess.”

Sighing, I pulled back and got off Tanner’s lap to look at myself in the

mirror. I stared at the black jeans I wore, and the tank with the Hangmen

emblem in the center. Beauty had brought me more clothes from her store.

Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, I had to breathe deeply.

If my father saw me now . . . if he saw that emblem standing in pride of

place on my chest . . .
I squeezed my eyes shut when I thought of that man. The man I had loved

so much. Idolized. Worshipped . . . to have the illusion shattered by the

haunted eyes and timid voice of a serially abused child.

 “You ready?” Tanner moved behind me, his hands on my shoulders. He

brushed my hair away from my neck and kissed my bare skin. His rough

hands ran down my arms, only for his hand to link through my fingers. I

couldn’t help but stare at the reflection of us both—Tanner in his dark jeans,

boots, white tank and Hangmen cut. And me, his woman, matching him in

dress but the complete opposite to him in looks.

To my eyes, I had never seen a couple look more compatible.

Tanner brought my hand to his mouth and laid a kiss on the back. “Come

on.” I breathed deeply, trying to quell my nerves. The president, Styx, and

his wife were coming to the clubhouse today with their new son. They had

been home a few days, but the men had yet to see his new child. Tanner told

me there was a celebration to be had in Charon’s honor. And I’d been

allowed to attend. For many days I’d been in Tanner’s room with him, not

allowed to step outside. I wasn’t sure why I was being allowed to leave now

—maybe they finally believed that I never intended to go back to my father.

Or perhaps Styx was so overcome with happiness at being a new father that
he was being overly lenient. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that I was

leaving this room, the safe bubble in which I had found comfort, my small

bubble with Tanner.

On seeing my nerves, Tanner turned me from the mirror to face him. He

gently dropped his forehead to mine. “You’ll be fine.”

 I gave him a forced smile. “I’m Adelita Quintana; of course I will.”

Though my family name suddenly didn’t fill me with much confidence.

Tanner didn’t smile back at me. Taking hold of my left hand, he brought it
between us, running his thumb over the place his cotton engagement ring

once sat. “One day, Lita . . . One day you won’t be a Quintana.” My

breathing hitched and a lump clogged my throat at the telltale emotional

gravel in Tanner’s voice. His blue eyes met mine. “One day, hopefully soon,

you’ll be an Ayers.” He exhaled like it was a breath he had been holding for

an eternity. “One day soon, after all these years apart, of fighting and

fucking working to make this happen, you’ll finally be mine.”

My hand shook as he spoke those words. It was my greatest dream too.

Not to be rich. I’d been rich my entire life and still felt alone. My greatest

wish in life was simple. It was him. My Tanner.

“Yes,” I announced, as though he had once again proposed. I kissed the

finger that would wear his wedding band. “Soon.” I closed my eyes for a

few seconds and let myself imagine what that moment would be like. The

moment I said “I do.” The moment Tanner and I wore wedding bands and

the priest pronounced us man and wife.

Adela Elizebetta Quintana Ayers.

I frowned. In my culture, we kept our family’s name and took our

husband’s name too. But the Quintana name to me now was ruined.
 Adelita Ayers . . . I smiled. It felt . . . right.

The coil of dread that had resided in me since I came back to Tanner grew

tighter still, fear chasing away any other dominant emotion. But I pushed it

aside, willing myself to ignore the persistent feeling that this couldn’t last. I

would embrace the moment. And right now, after years of seeking a safe

place for us to be together, Tanner was introducing me to his friends as his

old lady.

I knew this meant the world to him.

Gripping my hand in his, Tanner led us from the room that had become my

sanctuary, and toward a bar. The sound coming from inside was deafening
as we approached. If Tanner felt my hand trembling, he was polite enough

not to let me know. I took a deep breath as Tanner opened the door. The

place was packed. I knew the clubhouse and the grounds outside were full

of other men from all over the southern states of the US. But seeing them

all congregating in one place was more than overwhelming.

Tanner craned his neck above the sea of men, and then waved at someone

over the crowd. Some of the men looked at us as we passed, but not as

much as I feared. I relaxed some when my being in the room, holding

Tanner’s hand, didn’t garner as much attention I as I thought it would.

When we broke through the throng, it was to see Beauty sitting with other

familiar faces. The man beside her got to his feet, as did Beauty. Tank.
Beauty was smiling widely at me. “Hey, darlin’!” she said, and came

around the table. I froze as Beauty threw her arms around my neck. I

quickly looked to Tanner, who let go of my hand. The corner of his lip was

pulled up in humor.

When Beauty let go, I said, “Hello, again.”

Beauty put her hand on Tank’s shoulder. “Now that things aren’t so fucked

up, this, Adelita, is Tank. My man and Tanner’s best friend.”

Tank gave me a tight smile, then held out his hand. I shook it, and said,

“Thank you for being such a good friend to Tanner.”

Tank seemed taken back by my words. Like he didn’t know that Tanner

would’ve spoken so highly of him. Or maybe that he’d even told me who

Tank was to him. Tank looked at Tanner. “You been talking about me,

brother?”

Tanner shrugged, then looked to some other men who were there. “This is

AK.” AK got to his feet and I shook his hand. I remembered him from the

truck ride to the clubhouse when I was taken from the barn. “This is Bull,

Ky, Cowboy, Hush, Smiler, and Rudge.” I shook all the men’s hands.

A tall man with red hair got up from his seat and smiled widely at me. He
came straight to me, saying, “Fuck the handshake.” He wrapped his arms

around me. “I need to show our cartel princess some Viking love.” Just as

he squeezed me to his chest, he was pulled away.

 Tanner pushed him back until he fell into his seat. “Don’t fucking touch

her,” Tanner warned.

The red-haired man just smiled and casually put his hands on the back of

his head. “What’s wrong, White Prince? Worried your princess will prefer

the anaconda to your worm?” I frowned, having no understanding of what

they were talking about. The redhead shrugged. “I can’t help if bitches love

me. I’m fucking irresistible to pussy.”

“Chlamydia-ridden pussies,” the blond man—Ky— said.

The redhead opened his arms. “VP, I’m as liberal as they come. I don’t

discriminate against any pussy that comes to pet the anaconda. Black,
white, brown, they’re all welcome . . .” He put his attention back to me and

licked his lips suggestively. “Though I must say, I do have a real penchant
for how the Latinas taste.”

Tanner sighed, then said, “Lita. This prick who never shuts his stupid
fucking mouth is Viking.”

He bowed dramatically. “At your service, ma’am.”

I raised my hand in a wave, not sure quite how I should be greeting him.

Suddenly the tall dark-haired man—AK, I remembered he was named—and

Viking were on their feet. “And he is risen!” Viking shouted just as a man
with black eyes, piercings, and tattoos all over his body came toward us. A
beautiful woman walked beside him. They were hand in hand. She looked
distinctly like Styx’s wife.

AK stood in front of the man. He didn’t touch him, just simply said, “You
good now?”

“Yes.” The man said, then looked at me. His black eyes unnerved me.
AK must have seen. “This is Adelita. Tanner’s bitch.”

Flame didn’t shake my hand when I held it out. The woman with him
stepped forward and shook my hand instead. “Nice to meet you.” I smiled
at the woman. She was small with huge green eyes. “I am Maddie. This is

Flame, my husband.” I noticed she had the same strange accent as some of
the women I met the first day I was here.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Where’s Ash?” Flame asked AK.

AK shrugged. “With Zane and Slash in the compound somewhere. Doing

something for Sawyer.” Flame’s eyes narrowed. He looked so tense, so

angry.
Maddie took hold of Flame’s hand, and he instantly relaxed. She helped

her husband onto a seat. He was favoring one side, but that didn’t stop him
from pulling her onto his lap. As odd as they looked together, it was

obvious by the way their hands entwined and their bodies leaned into one
another that they were madly in love.
 “Lita!” Beauty asked, using the shortened version of my name Tanner did.
“What’s your poison?”

I frowned. “Drink, princess.” Tanner pulled me down to sit on the chair

beside his. “What do you want to drink?” I looked at the whiskey and beer

that was on the tables.

“Wine, right?” Beauty asked, clearly seeing my nose curl up in distaste.

“Yes,” I said. “Wine is perfect.”

Beauty disappeared into the mass of people toward the bar. I took a

moment to look around. It was crazy to me that I was here. In the lion’s den.
Tanner’s hand squeezed my thigh. I looked toward him and smiled, taking

his hand in mine. Beauty came back with a glass of red wine and placed it
before me. “Looked like a merlot kinda woman to me. Am I right?”

“You’re correct.”
Beauty winked at me and sat down beside Tank.

“So?” Tank said, talking to me. “You’re the one who finally got through to
my friend, huh? Quintana’s daughter?” Tank had known Tanner for years.
He knew the man I’d met who was anything but kind to me.

“I am,” I said and turned to Tanner, smiling. “Eventually.”

“He was a cunt at first, eh?” Viking was leaning over other people to hear

our conversation. Tanner rolled his eyes.

“He was, let’s say, unsavory.”
 The English man next to Viking pointed at Tanner. “That means you were

a total fucking twat, mate. Your bitch just dropped you in it.”
“I was.” Tanner’s friends laughed, but I didn’t. They didn’t know of the

life he lived. They didn’t know he was abused by his father, beaten until he
became the man he was—filled with nothing but hate. They didn’t know

how alone he was . . . or how kind he was deep underneath it all.

“Not anymore,” I said, just loud enough for us to hear, and ran my hand
over his arm.

Beauty saw the gesture and leaned her head on Tank’s shoulder. “I like
seeing you like this, Tann,” she said.

A commotion at the front of the room made us all turn our heads. I
couldn’t see over the crowd, but I heard the cheers. It was several minutes

before I saw Styx walking through with his wife. And in Mae’s arms was a
tiny baby being cradled to her chest. She looked tired, but the smile on her

face made me think she appeared the happiest woman in the world.
Beauty was on her feet and rushing toward Mae. The men got up and

congratulated Styx. Tanner shook his hand. Styx’s eyes fell on me. Tanner
hovered close, but when Styx nodded and moved to sit beside Ky, Tanner’s

shoulders visibly relaxed.

Mae came to sit down beside her husband, when her baby started crying.

She gave a tired smile. “Styx, I need to feed him.”

 Viking, who had taken his seat again, got to his feet. “Mae, as a liberal

man, let me be the first to say I have no problem with public feeding—”
AK pulled Viking down to his seat. Styx was glaring at the man so harshly

I was surprised he didn’t turn to ash on the spot. I couldn’t help but hide my
amusement when Viking saw me watching and winked my way. Who the

hell was this man?

“Come on, darlin’. The rest of the ladies are waiting for y’all in the back

room anyway. Maddie?” Beauty said, then turned to me. “You coming,
Lita?”

My heart started racing as I remembered that room. Remembered the

women who were in there . . . and what they had told me.

“I’m . . .” I said quietly. “I’m not sure I’d be welcome in there.” I couldn’t
stop thinking of Saffie. The last thing she would want is for her abuser’s

daughter to be sitting next to her. Beauty’s smile dropped. Maddie stood

beside Mae.
But then Mae stepped forward. “You will be welcome, Adelita. I

promise.”
Tanner squeezed my hand. When I looked at his face, he nodded. He

leaned closer, then whispered into my ear. “Go. Mae is Styx’s old lady. If
she says you’ll be fine, you will. And Beauty will be there. She’ll have your
back.” He kissed my lips. “Go meet the other old ladies, baby.” Other old
ladies . . . I liked the sound of that.

“Okay,” I agreed and got to my feet. Tanner’s hand slipped from mine, and
he handed me my wine.
“Dutch Courage,” he said, just so I could hear.

Moving to Mae, I looked down at her son. He had thick dark hair. Even
crying, he was precious. “Que bendicion,” I said, and ran my finger over

his hair. “What a blessing,” I translated.

“Thank you.”

Feeling someone watching me, I turned to see Tanner’s gaze fixed on me.
He wore a strange expression on his face. My stomach squeezed when I

realized it was him looking at me with a baby. My heart skipped a beat

when I imagined us this way, being welcomed back by friends after

bringing our baby into the world. Our baby. The living proof that we had
done it. That we had defied the odds and escaped our old lives. Married,

with a family.
My heart grew so full I could barely contain it. But then that feeling of

dread quickly washed the dream from my head. I was getting ahead of
myself. I was dreaming of too much too soon.

But it was such a lovely dream to aspire to.

 Beauty’s arm threaded through mine and we made our way out of the bar,
following Maddie and Mae down the hallway. Maddie walked so close to

Mae that I knew they must have been related. They had matching long
black hair. And Maddie had clearly met Charon before now. She held his

little hand all the way to the room the other ladies were in.
I took a deep breath as we approached the door. Beauty must have realized

I was nervous. She held me back and let Maddie and Mae enter first. I heard
the other women speaking quiet words of excitement.

Beauty moved before me. “Has Tanner told you much about most of the
women in that room?”

“Some.”
“Did he tell you that Mae, Li, Grace, Madds, Bella, Phebe, and Saffie were

cult girls? Like, a batshit crazy religious cult that abused them for years
until the Hangmen brought those assholes down.”
Tanner had told me. And he had told me how his father was responsible
for funding the cult among other shady deals. He hadn’t known. It was

another deal made by his father without Tanner being involved.

“I know some.”
Beauty nodded. “Sia is Ky’s sister, and she’s with both Cowboy and
Hush.” Tanner had told me that too. “Letti’s one of my best friends, but the

bitch is a fucking psycho and likes to kill just as much as the men in that
bar.” I swallowed, my nerves worse than ever. “My point , darlin’, is that no
one is judging you for having a creep as an old man.” Although her words

were meant to offer comfort, they were veritable bullets to my heart.

Because she was right. My father . . . he was an abuser. “Girl, pull up those
cartel-princess panties and come make some new friends. None of us are
fucking normal in this club; think of us as one weird, dysfunctional family.”
Laughing, I let Beauty lead me into the room. The minute she shut the

door, all eyes were on us. Beauty didn’t let the silence reign for long. “Y’all
remember Adelita?”
Mae smiled at me as she fed Charon on the couch. The other women
nodded. Most smiled and waved. But my eyes found the small redhead who

had haunted my dreams over the past several days. Her eyes were on me as
she leaned into her mother’s side. “Hello,” I said to the group.
Beauty took hold of my hand. “Let me introduce you properly this time.”
She took me around the room, and I shook hands with each one. And like

Beauty said, each was kind and gracious. When I sat down, it was beside
Sia.
“Hey, you’re a crime-world brat too!” She laughed at my stunned reaction.
“I’m Ky’s sister, so I know what it’s like to have an old man in this life.

Although he didn’t have much to do with me. Asshole.”

“Then yes,” I said, “I’m a crime-world brat too.”
 Sia clinked her glass with mine. As the wine filled my stomach, I felt
myself relax.

“Tell us, Mae,” Beauty asked, “Did labor hurt like a bitch?”
Mae laughed. “Yes.”
When Lilah made a small terrified sound, Beauty grimaced. “Sorry, Li.”
Lilah smiled nervously and rubbed her round stomach.

“But worth it,” Mae said, just as Charon stopped feeding and fell asleep in
her arms. A pang of envy pulled in my chest as I watched Mae with her son.
Conversation carried on around me. Saffie got to her feet to go to the
attached bathroom. Seeing Phebe go to the kitchenette in the room to make

herself a drink, I got up and went over to where she was standing.
“Adelita?” Phebe said.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, the devastation in my heart leaking into the
tone of my voice. I shook my head, fighting back the embarrassed tears that
were threatening to fall. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what he was doing. If

I did, I would have stopped him . . . somehow . . . I would have made . . .

she would have been safe, I—”
Phebe’s hand came down to rest on mine. Her touch stopped my words. I
stared down at her hand on mine. Her pale skin, and lightly painted nails.

When I looked into her eyes, I saw sympathy in her gaze . . . and I realized
it was sympathy for me. “My father touched me as a child.” Phebe looked
across the room at Lilah. A tragic kind of smile pulled on her lips. “Lilah is

my sister. Did you know that?” I nodded. Tanner had told me so. “He hurt
her too. Sent her away and into the arms of monsters—devils disguised as
saintly men.” Phebe let go of the mug she was holding and took hold of
both of my hands. “We are not our fathers, Adelita.” I felt my heart crack.
“None of us are our family members, friends, or torturers. We each are our

own people who make our own choices.” Phebe put her hand on my cheek.
“You are not Alfonso Quintana, in the same way that I am not my father.”
My bottom lip shook. “Thank you . . .” I whispered, my voice growing
hoarse. Phebe gave me a small smile.

“Tea?” she asked as the kettle boiled.

“Please.”
I watched Phebe busy herself with the tea, then she said, “She is stronger
than people believe.” I tensed, and Phebe looked over her shoulder at me.

“My Sapphira. My girl.” I saw nothing but steel and belief in Phebe’s eyes.
“She is beyond quiet and, right now, prefers an uneventful life. But she is
strong and resilient.” Phebe’s eyes misted, but she kept her voice strong.
“One day my girl will shine, and move on from the prison of her past. She

is special. I know it in my heart. She is meant to do something special. It

could be as simple as loving another with her entire soul. Or something
else. But whatever it is, I will be watching and smiling . . . and I will be

proud.”
I squeezed Phebe’s hand. “You are a good mother, Phebe.”
Phebe exhaled a breath I didn’t know she was holding. “I just cherish the
fact that I am allowed to be her mother now.” My confusion must have

shown on my face. “There was a time when I was not allowed to be near
her. And they were the darkest days of my life.” My shock was evident.
Phebe let go of my hand and poured the tea. She handed me my cup. “I
used to avoid thinking of those days, Adelita. I used to feel shame at the

things I was made to do, the life I lived.” Phebe’s eyes found Saffie’s as she
exited the bathroom immediately looking for her mother. Saffie went and
sat next to Lilah, but first offered me a tentative smile. I smiled back,
feeling her forgiveness toward me in the depths of my heart. When Phebe
faced me again, it was to say, “I have learned to embrace the dark, Adelita.

We cannot escape that we all must travel through dire days. How we were
raised, the people—good or bad—who gave us life . . . if those days are
shrouded in darkness, embrace them and allow them to have a place in your
soul. They are a part of who you are as much as the lighter, inspiring days.”

Phebe pressed her hand to my shoulder. “We are all part angel and part
devil. But once we are aware of that fact, it then falls to us how to live from
then on.” I glanced at Saffie. “You now know the man your father is.
Everything from here on, regarding where he fits into your life, is your

choice.”
Phebe walked to Saffie and handed her the tea. I couldn’t take my eyes off
them as Saffie smiled at her mother and Phebe kissed her head. Taking my
tea, I took the seat beside Beauty.

“How are you finding life here at the Hangmen?” My eyes found Mae.
She was addressing me. All the other women stopped their conversations to
listen to my answer.
Gripping the tea in my lap, I said, “I was not allowed to leave Tanner’s

room until today.” I paused, worrying I’d said the wrong thing. I wasn’t
complaining, simply stating a fact. “I understand why,” I added just in case.
Mae didn’t seem offended. It was her husband who had given that order.
Understandably so. “But just from what I’ve seen today . . .” I glanced

around these women. Felt the level of their bonds. “I think I will love it.”
“It’s different to how you were raised?” Sia asked.
“Very.” I took a deep breath. I felt I should share some about me. No, I
needed to. They’d been open with me. “I was sheltered my entire life. I

didn’t have a mother, and my father, although he loved and spoiled me, was
distant and cold. I had two close friends, family friends.” I paused, the pain
of losing Teresa still raw. “One of them was killed by a rival cartel.” I
suddenly felt a deep sorrow. “I had Charley from California. But her visits
were not frequent.” I shrugged. “I guess I was . . . lonely. Was getting
forced into a marriage with a man I did not love, while my soulmate was a
rival and completely unacceptable to my father.” I laughed at the absurdity
of our situation. “And Tanner would have been killed by his own people for

falling for a Mexican—a woman they believed was below them in every
way.”
“There was always a sadness in Tanner.” Lilah, Ky’s wife said. She hadn’t
said much to me until now. Her hands lay on her round stomach. “I met him

when I was rescued from the cult we used to belong to.” She gestured to her
sisters and Saffie. “It was Tanner who got Ky the information to help me.
He betrayed his own people, risked his life, to save mine.” My heart
expanded in my chest. I knew he was a good man, but hearing how he’d
helped Lilah made me so full of love for him I could barely contain it. “He

risked his life to help me . . . for you, Adelita. It was his entry fee into this
club. To being in the Hangmen. A club that could help him finally get to
you.”
“I see that now,” I whispered, barely able to talk.

“The guy’s different now, since you’ve been here,” Beauty said. “He was
with us a lot. Tank’s best friend and all. Yet since you’ve been back in his
life, he’s alive. I’m not sure I ever saw his eyes show life until I watched
him looking at you.”
 “Thank you.” I quickly wiped away a tear that fell. “He’s had a hard life.
People don’t think or know that. They see where he came from, what he
used to do—the bad and despicable things. But they don’t see why he did
that or how he was groomed into it from a child and forced into that way of

life. People just see anger and those awful Nazi tattoos. They hear his name
and write him off as evil and unworthy of love. But he’s not. He’s worth all
the stars in the sky.”
“He is worth you.” I lifted my lowered head to see Maddie looking at me.

The same Maddie who had walked into the bar hand in hand with Flame. A
man I could not read at all. Maddie lifted her chin, almost in defiance. “He
is down, but not broken. And it is you—only you—who can lift him. Raise
him to the level of worth he should understand he must reside in. It is you,

Adelita. You are the one for Tanner, and he is the one for you. You are one
another’s light in the dark.”
I didn’t know what to say to that . . . to those words. The words that
directly spoke to my soul.

“Do you think your father will come for the club?” Letti, Beauty’s best
friend, asked. Her body was tense and her voice was serious.
I felt the tension rise. “Yes,” I replied honestly. “If my father knows I am
here. If it was confirmed the Hangmen had taken me, he would come.” I
glanced at Saffie and felt a wave of gutting anger settle in my stomach.
“But I will not let him hurt anyone.” I was determined and fueled by that
promise. “With everything I am, I will not let him destroy any of you to get
to me.” Saffie’s shoulders relaxed, and she gave me a proud kind of smile.

It only made me more determined. I didn’t know how I would keep him
away, but I would.
Somehow.
“Oh shit, ladies, I forgot to tell you,” Beauty said, laughing. “This prick
came into the store the other day—”

A loud crash came from the direction of the bar and a deafening roar
ripped from someone’s throat. The temperature in the room plummeted
when voices started to rise and the muffled sounds of crashing tables and
chairs traveled down the hall.

“No!” someone screamed. “FUCKING NO!”

“Flame!” Maddie whispered, her face going ashen. In seconds she was on
her feet and running out of the room.
Beauty got up and turned to Letti. “Watch Mae and the ladies.” My heart

started hammering when the cacophony of distressed shouts rose to a

crescendo. Beauty was obviously worried that someone—an enemy—had
gotten in. I knew I should have stayed with Letti. But all I could think of
was Tanner. Tanner in the bar.

I jumped up too.
 “Adelita!” Phebe’s voice called my name, but the coil that weighed so
heavily on my chest, the one that had been pulling tighter and tighter with
every hour, made my feet lurch into action and run down the hall toward the

bar. I was so intent on getting to Tanner, I wouldn’t have noticed the trail of
blood on the floor had my foot not slipped in the wetness. My pulse was a
drum as it thundered in my neck.
I followed the trail of blood through the bar’s door, to a man who was

lying on the floor. His arms and legs had been slashed with knives. He was
bleeding everywhere. The man who had drugged me, the man with black-
and-white hair was examining him. But when he looked up at Styx, he
shook his head. My heart fell as I understood what he was saying—the man

was dying.
The voice I heard screaming from the old ladies’ room boomed again. I
looked to the back of the bar to see Flame pacing up and down, hands
hitting his head and wearing an expression of pure rage. Maddie was

walking beside him, whispering things to calm him down. But I could see
by her wide eyes and pale face that something was wrong. Something was
very wrong.
Tanner was suddenly beside me, his thick arms wrapping around my waist.
In the fog of the scene, I hadn’t seen him. For a minute I briefly felt relief in

his arms . . .that was until I saw the dying man’s back. For me and Tanner, it
was always going to be one of our families who had inflicted the wounds on
this man. I wasn’t sure if Tanner had come to me to comfort me, or if it was

to seek comfort himself. Because no matter how innocent one may be of

one’s family’s misdeeds, the guilt, the pain and humiliation was a constant
blinding light in one’s eyes when coming face to face with it.
My hands found Tanner’s. They were shaking, and I tried to breathe. I
fought to get past the gutting vision of the wounded man’s slow breathing,

his death rattle. And I watched him with a lump in my throat until his body
went still.
“Shark,” Tanner whispered in my ear. “New Mexico chapter.”
“Where is he?!” Flame’s loud roar made me jump. He turned toward Styx.

“He said he was with him. Didn’t he? Shark said Ash was with him!” If I
thought the racking pain in my chest was as debilitating as it could get, I
was wrong.
AK and the quiet Hangman—Smiler?—came rushing through the door

and fixed their gaze on a man across the room, standing back near the bar.
The man started backing away, his eyes wide and his arms held out. “You
motherfucking cunt!” AK snarled and flew toward him. AK plowed his fist
into the guy’s face. Smiler was next, and Flame, without any explanation,

did the same. My eyes struggled to keep up with the carnage.

 Ky, the Englishman, and Viking got between them, throwing the three men
off the other. His face was bleeding.

“What the fuck is happening?” Ky shouted. “Somebody better start talking

now or else I’ll fucking shoot the lot of you in your stupid fucking heads!”
“That fucking dick ordered them to go with Shark. He fucking ordered
Ash, Zane, and Slash to leave the compound in the truck to go get food

because we were low. The asshole sent kids to get fucking food because the
cunt was hungry!”
Ky spun on his heel and rushed toward the man. He grabbed him by the
collar. “Did you, Hick? Did you send the prospects out when everyone had

orders that they were to stay in the fucking compound?”

Hick, as Ky called him, opened his mouth a few times before he actually
spoke. “I sent Shark for food. The prospects were close, so I told them to go
too.”

“They wouldn’t have gone without an order from Styx or Ky,” AK said,
Viking still holding him back.
Hick froze, paling. “You told them Styx said so, didn’t you, asshole?” Ky
spat. Tanner’s arms held mine tighter. I didn’t understand what was
happening. “You told them it was an order from their prez?”

Ky kicked Hick’s feet, and Hick dropped to his knees. Ky pulled out his
gun and held it to his head.
 “Ky! Fucking wait!” An older man rushed to his side.

“Wrox, I don’t give a fuck if you’re his prez. The cunt lied to a bunch of
kids. Y’all know the fucking rules. No prospect goes out in war. They stay
here at the compound, protected. They are fucking kids. They are fucking
mother-chapter kids! Ours! And now they’re missing because of this
asshole!”

My heart fell. Missing? Kids were missing?

“Ky, let me take care of this,” Wrox tried to argue.
Suddenly, a loud whistle cut through the room, and Styx came walking
over to Ky, Hick, and Wrox. The room was silent as he raised his hands and

signed something.
“What?” Wrox said, clearly not knowing sign language. I had no idea what
he was saying either.
“Take him to the shed, out back. Tie the fucker to the chair and leave him.

I’ll decide what to do with him later.”

Ky stepped back from Hick. Styx pointed at Letti’s husband. He took the
man from the room. Styx signed again. “Edge? Did you hear what Shark
was saying before he died?” Ky spoke for Styx.

The man with strange hair nodded. “Said they were ambushed and taken to
a warehouse somewhere. Said he was beaten and questioned.” Edge paused,
then said, “The kids were taken too. All three of them.” My stomach
crashed to the floor as Flame roared and started destroying the bar furniture

around him.
“Flame!” Maddie’s voice rang out around the room, and her husband
stopped in his tracks. His face, which had appeared expressionless to me
when I first met him, now looked broken and torn.

“Ash . . .” he rasped. “Ash . . .”

“I know,” she soothed and slowly wrapped her arms around him. “We will

get him back.” But when her eyes briefly met mine, I thought she didn’t

look as confident as she sounded.

“We’ve gotta get them back,” Smiler declared and stood beside AK.

“They’re fucking kids. They ain’t meant for this shit yet.”

“Here.” Our attention snapped back to Edge as he held something in the

air. He had been in Shark’s pockets. He was holding a USB drive.

“Be back soon, babe.” Tanner released me and rushed from the room. In
seconds, Tanner was back clutching a laptop. He took the USB from Edge

and the screen came on.

I lost all the blood from my face when Diego’s face filled the screen. A cry
slipped from my mouth. Tanner looked back at me. He must have seen I

was crumbling, as he came to me and pulled me to him.

“You have something of mine,” Diego said. “So I have taken something of

yours.” The screen cut to the three young men. The camera wasn’t perfectly
clear, but it showed the boys tied to chairs, their faces and bodies beaten

and spattered with blood. Miguel, one of Diego’s men, held each of the

boys’ faces up by their hair to show the camera it was them. One by one,
AK, Smiler, and Flame made noises of anger and rage. They rocked on their

feet and looked ready to find Diego and kill him in the most painful way
possible.

“You have my fiancée, Adelita, and I want her back.” I felt like my legs

might have given way if Tanner hadn’t been holding me. But I stood tall. I
had to. I had to face this. I had to face Diego and his threats. “In three days,

we will meet at the old abandoned town close to where you live. I have
been reliably informed by our associates who live close to you that you

know it well.” Tanner’s breathing changed. The Klan. The Klan had

informed him of this place. “There, we will make the exchange. Adelita for
these three young men.” In that second, the bubble burst. The bubble I’d

been living in with Tanner for the past few days burst, and the reality of our

tenuous position was cruelly exposed.

I was going back to Mexico.

Tanner held on to me tighter as though he could feel me slipping from his

grasp. As though he could sense, that this, us, like this, was coming to an

end. Its inevitable conclusion.

 “Three o’clock in three days.” Diego stood back, and Miguel put a gun to
one of the prospect’s heads. I knew it must have been AK’s nephew by the

way he suddenly kicked a chair across the room. “If Adelita is hurt, one of

your prospects will pay the price.” Diego stared down at the camera, and
my skin crawled. It was like he could see me through the lens. Cold shivers

broke out over my body. “Until then . . .” The screen went blank; the room

was thick with silent anticipation.

My eyes lowered to the ground. When they lifted, everyone was looking at

me. I inhaled deeply, hating what was I was about to say . . . but it had to be
done. “I will go.”

“No,” Tanner spat from behind me. The pain in his voice, the plea, made

me close my eyes and fight the devastation that was running so thickly in
my veins. When I opened my eyes, I searched out Styx. “I know Diego.” I

looked at Flame, AK, and Smiler. “He is a man of his word. He has
promised to harm the boys if I am not exchanged. And he will.” I held

Tanner’s hand tighter. I would find it hard to ever let go. “We will make the

exchange. I will go with Diego. You will get your prospects and family
members back.”

“No!” Tanner snarled and spun me round. I didn’t look into his eyes. I

couldn’t. But Tanner placed his hand under my chin and forced me to face
him.
 “I have to,” I whispered before he could speak. The gutting pain I held in

my heart at the thought of being torn from Tanner was reflected in his light-

blue eyes. He shook his head, about to protest, but I put my hand on his
cheek. “I can’t let them die.” I swallowed back the lump in my throat. I

nodded, a silent agreement with myself that this was the right thing to do.
With my hands on Tanner’s cheeks, I brought his mouth to mine and kissed

his lips. “It has to be this way, mi amor. I cannot let them die . . . I would

never be able to live with myself.”

“You’re not fucking going.” Tanner looked to Styx and Ky, then all the

brothers standing watching. “I’m not gonna let that cunt take her back. We

need to think of something. A plan or some shit. Because I ain’t letting her
go. I’ll fucking die in that ghost town before I let her go back to Mexico.”

My heart both broke and swelled as those words fell from his lips. But I
knew it was futile. There was no plan to be made. This had to happen. I had

to go.

“They have Ash!” Flame roared at Tanner.

Tanner shook with anger. He laughed, but there was no humor in his tone.

He looked around the brothers. “She’s my fucking old lady!” Tanner

pointed at Styx, then Ky, AK, then Sia’s men. “You wouldn’t let any of your
bitches go. Mae, Lilah, Phebe, or Sia.” He next turned to Flame. “And I get
your brother has been taken. I’m your Hangmen brother, and I’ll do

anything to get him back, but I won’t let Adelita go.”

“Tanner . . .” I tried to say, but he shook his head, pulling away from me.

“You went to that cult to get Mae, razing the fucking place to the ground,”
he said to Styx. Next he looked at Ky. “You went in to get Lilah.” He turned

to Sia’s men. “Y’all went into Mexico to get Sia. I fucking came too!

Helped y’all with every plan. And what? Now it’s my bitch y’all are ready
to just send her back?”

“It ain’t as easy as our bitches,” Ky explained. “Adelita is Quintana’s kid.”

“So?” Tanner bit back. He reached for my hand. I gave it. He was fighting
so hard for me. For us. “We just need to get more creative. We have to plan

better.” Tanner looked at me, then back at Styx who was watching like a
hawk. “We’re at war! We have brothers ready to fight. So we fucking

fight!” His neck was so tense his veins showed under his skin. “Quintana

was coming for us anyway. So fuck if it’s Adelita being here that’s made the
threat worse. One day soon we’d be facing them regardless.” He slapped his

chest. “I’m gonna fucking fight. For her, for me, for the prospects, for this
fucking club.” Tanner’s voice dropped when he said, “Y’all are my brothers

in arms. And I’m gonna marry Adelita one day. That’s supposed to mean

something at this club, or am I mistaken?” Flame’s heavy breathing could

be heard from beside us. Tanner looked at him. “The way you need Maddie
is the way I need Lita. You would tear anyone apart to protect her. I’m

doing the fucking same.”

Flame glanced down at Maddie, who was at his side, clutching his arm.
His face seemed to soften for a split second. But my attention quickly went

back to Styx. He was watching Tanner intently. His hazel eyes next moved

to me. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but all I saw was Charon. All I
saw was Mae looking down at her son like her heart had been taken from

her chest and gently placed in her arms. I pictured Saffie holding onto
Phebe. And I thought of all the women who had just welcomed me with no

judgment into their circle. I considered what they had already been through.

The cult, Sia in Mexico with Garcia . . . Saffie with my father.

And I knew I couldn’t let them be hurt further because of me.

I had to protect them now too.

Styx raised his hands, and all the men watched him. It was incredible the
respect Styx garnered from his brothers. The silent, imposing man didn’t

need loudly barked orders. The simple movement of his hands got his
message through clearly enough.

“Church, in one hour,” Ky said, reading Styx’s hands for those, like me,

who didn’t understand sign. Tanner exhaled a long, relieved breath beside
me. And I understood what that meant. They were going to devise a plan so

I could stay here with Tanner.

 They were going to fight Diego.

Tanner pulled me from the bar and took me straight to his room. When the
door was shut, he pushed me against the back of the door and put his hands

on my face. “You’re not fucking leaving me. I’m not letting that happen. I

have you now, and you’re not going back to that cunt, or your old man.”
Tanner kissed my forehead, my cheeks, then my lips. He was worshipping

me, cherishing me. Trying to convince me that I belonged with him.

I knew I did. But sometimes circumstances made it so soulmates couldn’t

be together.

“Mi amor,” I whispered and held his face in my hands. I drank in his blue
eyes and the light lashes that framed them. I felt the stubble on his cheeks

under my hands, and his lips—features that I knew, in a hundred lifetimes, I

would never tire of.

“Don’t,” Tanner said, not giving me a chance to speak. He closed his eyes

for a moment, before saying, “Don’t tell me you should go. Don’t tell me
it’s the right thing to make this fucking exchange.”

The hurt in his voice caused me physical pain in my chest. I always tried

to be strong, but in this moment, I felt weak. Because I wanted everything

Tanner was offering. I wanted to stay. I wanted the dream, but . . . “Maybe

it is not in this life that we are meant to be together.” As I whispered the

words, each one felt like a knife being driven into my side. Tanner’s blue
eyes were racked with agony. I kept my lip from trembling as I stroked my
hand down his face, and along his tattooed neck. “Maybe, no matter how

hard we fought, we were never meant to be. No matter how much we love
one another, it isn’t enough.” I smiled at him, but the smile was a lie—I felt

only heartache. “I cannot have other people’s deaths or miseries on my

conscience. And I know you, Tanner Ayers. I know you cannot either.”
“I can’t let you go,” he rasped. The hurt in his voice was almost my

undoing.

“Do you know how much I love you, mi amor?”

Tanner touched his forehead to mine. “Yes.” His breathing was labored,

like he had the weight of the world on his wide shoulders. “Do you know
how much I love you?”

“Yes,” I whispered back.

“I can’t lose you,” he appealed, and I unraveled when I saw his eyes
glisten. “If the world doesn’t want us together, then we have to find a place

that does. I want no one else, baby. You’re it. You’ve always been it.”

“Tanner . . .”
Tanner took hold of both of my hands. “Let me try,” he begged. “Let me

try to make a plan to save the prospects and keep you safe and here with
me. Please . . . just . . . just let me try.”
 Tanner’s expression was so hopeful, so earnest, that I found myself

nodding my head in agreement. Tanner exhaled in relief and picked me up

where I stood. He carried me to the bed, and then made love to me so

sweetly, so softly, as though I were a delicate flower who might fall apart at

any moment.
When he left to meet with the other Hangmen, I lay wrapped in the

bedsheets, his smell wrapped around me, keeping me warm. I intended to

savor every part of Tanner I could over the next three days. I didn’t know

what would happen, but I wasn’t naïve.

So, closing my eyes, I allowed myself to envision a life where Tanner and
I had no shackles holding us back. Living free and as we chose to. No war.

No violence. Just him and me and our love.

It was the most perfect of dreams.

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eleven

Tanner

I watched Adelita getting ready across the room. She slipped on black jeans
a plain black tank. Her dark brown hair fell to her waist. I watched her as

she crossed the room and pulled flat black boots on her feet. My heart
fucking squeezed seeing her like this. All she was missing was a cut. Fuck,

that wasn’t true. She was missing that and my ring—the one I still intended
to put on her finger.

The screen in front of me flashed with a new email. It was Wade. It wasn’t
only the cartel that would be at the ghost town today. The Klan would be

there too. And, according to Wade, so would Beau.

We’ll be positioned at the north side of the town. Snipers and shooters
hidden in the back in case everything goes to shit. Cartel will have thirty

men. We’ll be making up the rest.

Wade had already told me their plan. The Hangmen had been planning for
three days. The Louisiana and San Antonio chapters were already on the

south side of the ghost town. In position since last night. AK was with

them. If Diego dared touch any of the brothers, AK was there to put a slug

in his head. The guy was the best fucking sniper I knew. Zane, AK’s
nephew, was a captive. Zane, who AK treated like a son . . . AK wouldn’t

be missing a fucking shot.

On top of that, AK had the biggest task of all—to take out Diego. When

the exchange was made, I had to restrain myself just long enough to let

Adelita walk back to the cartel camp . . . then AK would send a bullet
straight through Diego’s head.

There was no way to avoid the carnage that would follow. We were ready.

It was time to fight.

Wade had given me numbers—of men, weapons and coordinates. I printed

the information off and ran my hands over my face. Today, I would face
Beau and Diego as a Hangman. All the time trying to keep the prospects

and my bitch safe.

Too much could go wrong. I never wanted to ever go head to head with

my baby brother. But there was no other way.

“One day, Tann,” Beau said. “One day we’ll stand together when the race

war begins. Shoulder to shoulder, brother and brother. And we’ll fucking

tear down anyone in our path.”

I remembered the elation I felt at that thought. Now, here I was, on the

opposing side. I now was the path he intended to tear down. My fucking

chest cracked at the thought.

 Adelita put her hand on my shoulder like she’d sensed something was

wrong. I lifted my head and let her spin me around in my chair. Never

breaking eye contact, Adelita straddled my lap. Leaning in, she kissed my

lips. My hands slid down her body, tracing over every curve. In the past

three days I’d been inside her every chance I got. Our plan for today was

good. We had men for when the battle broke out. Thanks to Wade, we had
the knowledge of where their best snipers were positioned. But any little

thing could send the exchange into a fucking nightmare. Any fuck-up could

send any one of us to the boatman. Not all of us would come back to the

compound tonight. That much we all knew.

I fucking counted on me and my bitch making it back alive.

“We have to go,” I said as Adelita laid her head on my chest. Her arms

wrapped around me and held on tight. Adelita had been too quiet over the

past few days. I didn’t like it. Didn’t like not knowing what she was

thinking.

Lifting off the chair, Adelita slid down my body, and I kissed her lips.
“You ready?”

Adelita nodded, but I could see she was scared by the worry in her eyes. It

fucking killed me. I longed for the day when she was never scared again.

Taking her hand, I led her outside the club. The Hangmen were already

waiting on their bikes. The truck I would drive was waiting at the back.
 “You ready?” Ky asked. Styx and Ky were at the front of the pack. I

nodded. Flame was here too, even though the guy was still injured. But

nothing was keeping him from getting his brother back today. Viking was
beside him. He was tasked with keeping Flame back from the cartel and

Klan until it was time to fucking unleash hell.

We made our way to the truck. Adelita stopped when Beauty appeared

from the clubhouse. Some men were staying behind in case there was an

attack. The other bitches were in the clubhouse too, still on lockdown.

Beauty threw her arms around Adelita’s neck and squeezed her tight. “You

take care, all right?” Beauty said and kept hold of Adelita. “We wanna see

you back here tonight.”

“Si,”Adelita replied and hugged Beauty. I looked to Tank, who was on his

bike beside Bull. He nodded, as if assuring me that he had my back. That he

would help make sure my woman did return home with us.

“Lita, we need to go,” I said. Adelita stepped away from Beauty. I could

tell by her face that she hadn’t expected it. Hadn’t expected Beauty to be so

concerned. My heart fucking broke for my bitch all over again. She hadn’t

expected it because she’d never had many friends. Never been allowed to

get too close to hardly anyone.

When we were in the truck, Adelita took a deep breath, and I saw a new
kind of determination in her face. “You good?” I asked, as I pulled out onto
the road. The truck was flanked by the Hangmen. Styx, Ky, and our chapter

were up front; the other chapters took up the rear.

Adelita was staring out of the window. “I am.” She took hold of my hand.

I knew she wanted to say something. I could tell by how she shifted on the

seat. I waited her out. Eventually, after a few minutes, she said, “If

something happens today . . .” She paused and seemed to think over her

words. “If something happens today, I want you to know that I don’t regret

a thing.” I gripped her hand tighter, keeping my eye on the road. I wasn’t

sure I could look at her right now. I wasn’t sure I could keep my shit

together. “Nothing, mi amor.” Adelita kissed my hand. “Meeting you, as

hateful as it was in the beginning, has been the single biggest blessing I’ve

had in my life.” Adelita stroked her fingers along the back of my hand.

“Seeing you fight your demons, challenge the prejudices you were raised

with and completely change, was the most amazing transformation to

witness.”

“It was you,” I rasped. “It was all because of you.”

Adelita moved until she was right beside me on the seat. She laid her head

on my shoulder. “Even though we’ve only had a short time together,

Tanner, these past several days . . . they have meant more to me than

anything else has in my entire life.” Adelita looked up at me, and this time I

met her eyes. “I didn’t know it was possible to love anyone as much as I
love you. My father never loved anyone after my mother, so I never had an

example of how a couple in love could be.” I kept my eye on the road but

found it hard to tear my attention away from Lita. “If anything happens

today . . . if for whatever reason something goes wrong . . . at least I have

known what it was like to love you. Entirely and with my whole heart.”

“Nothing will go wrong,” I said. Adelita smiled, but it was laced with

sadness. I understood then that there was no part of her that thought today

would go well. “I love you, princess. You fucking saved me. Not sure if you

know it. But you saved me.”

“Tanner—”

“And now I get to save you.”

Adelita stayed close to my side, holding my arm and resting her head

against my shoulder. My heart started to beat faster and louder when we

turned onto the road that led to the ghost town. My eyes scanned around as

much as I could. I could see my brothers up ahead on their bikes doing the

same thing. I expected an ambush. I expected them to try to take us out. But

because of Wade’s intel, we knew to come into the town from the south.

Some of our brothers who had been here overnight stepped out from their
hiding place to wave us on through. To assure us that we were safe.

As the town came into view, Adelita sat up. Her brown eyes were huge.

But she remained the perfect cartel princess—calm and steady.

 Styx, Ky, and the brothers up front turned the corner and entered the

clearing in the ghost town first. I was on my guard as I pulled in. The

minute the clearing came into view, every part of me tensed. Diego stood in

the center, flanked by his men . . . his men and my old brotherhood. I

scanned over the Klan soldiers I had trained. They were ready and braced

for action. A strange familiarity rushed through me at seeing the hate on

their faces. The hatred that fueled their need to kill.

And then I saw him. Beau. Standing to the side, just behind the front-line
soldiers. My uncle Landry was positioned close to a van. I knew that was

where the prospects were locked up.

But my attention strayed back to Beau. His hair was longer than the last

time I’d seen him. He looked bigger in build. But apart from that, he was
the same.

My little fucking brother.

I shifted in my seat when he looked directly at the truck. When he looked

directly at me. His eyes pierced through the windshield.

“Tanner? You okay?” I tried to open my eyes. The light stabbed at my

skull when I did. “Shit!” Beau spat and shut the door of the shed. He turned
on the storm light and rushed straight over to me on the camping cot. Beau
made a move to touch me, but quickly thought better of it. “Tanner, that

cunt has beaten you to a pulp.”

 If I could have, I would have laughed. I knew the bastard had beaten me.
There wasn’t a part of me that could move. “Yeah,” I rasped. “I didn’t kill

the kid from the north east gang. The drug dealers.” I wheezed as I sucked
in a slow, controlled breath. “I let him go.”

Beau sighed. “You should have just killed him, Tann.” I frowned at Beau.
He looked like he was serious. But I knew him. He wouldn’t have killed that

kid any more than I would have. I was seventeen. The kid had been only a
few years younger. But he didn’t deserve to die. No matter what my old man
said.

Beau sat down on the cold floor beside the bed. I was told to stay here
until my old man came back for me. In this icebox of a shed. “He’ll beat

you if he finds you here.”

Beau looked over his shoulder at me and smiled. “I’ve never been one to

follow the rules, Tann. You know that.” It was true. I rarely fought back
against my old man. Beau did. Then again, he wasn’t groomed to be the

heir. For the most part, our old man didn’t even give a fuck about Beau. He
could afford to break the rules. He wouldn’t be almost beaten to death for

daring to defy him . . .

But Beau was following the rules now. Like a good little Nazi soldier.

Styx and Ky got off their bikes and stood at the front of us all. Everyone
else took that as their cue and got off their bikes too. They filed in behind
the prez and VP, their guns and weapons ready.
Styx looked back at me and nodded. Taking a deep breath, I turned to

Adelita. Her eyes were wide as she took in the scene. “Stay here.” Adelita
was a damn statue. “I’ll come and get you soon.” I opened the truck’s door

slightly. “Remember the plan, baby. Swerve to the left.” Adelita nodded. I
didn’t want to leave her here alone, but I had to show my face. My old

brotherhood knew I was a Hangman now. There was no sense in hiding.

The plan was simple. AK was one of the best snipers we had. When the

exchange was made, and the prospects were safe, Adelita would swerve to
the left beside Diego, and AK would put bullet right through Diego’s skull.

I would get Adelita to safety, then the battle would start.

I pushed through Viking and Flame. Flame was like a fucking Rottweiler

as he paced, breathing heavy, waiting for his brother to be delivered.

Waiting for the go-ahead to tear every one of the Klan and cartel fuckers

apart with the knives that were in his hands.

I pushed past all my brothers until I stopped beside Tank. I scoured the
clearing and one by one saw my old brotherhood notice me. Their faces

morphed from hatred to full fucking rage. Confirmation that the heir now
belonged to Hades.

“Fucking betrayer!” Uncle Landry shouted. Some of the other Klan

echoed his slight. But there was only one person out of these fuckers I’d
ever given a shit about. When I found Beau, he was glaring at me, arms

over his wide chest. And when my eyes fixed on his, his lip lifted in disgust
and he spat on the ground at his feet.

And that was it. Proof that my brother hated me too. And I was just gonna
have to be okay with that fact.

“Keep strong, brother,” Tank said under his breath. “Those fuckers ain’t
your family no more.” I breathed deeply and let his words sink in. He was
right. They weren’t my family. He was. Beauty was. These brothers were

my fucking family . . . and that was my woman in the truck. My bitch who
these cunts were trying to take away.

Movement caught my eye and led me to Diego. The minute I saw him, my
veins flooded with the need to kill. To tear him apart limb from limb for

even touching one hair on Adelita’s head. For having the audacity to believe
that he was good enough for her. That he would ever be her motherfucking

husband.
“I’d heard the rumors,” Diego said, addressing me and completely

ignoring Styx and Ky, who were leading the Hangmen. Diego walked
toward us. My brothers clicked the safeties off their guns. “I’d heard the

great White Prince of the Ku Klux Klan had abdicated and fled to the
enemy.” His head cocked to the side, and I wanted to knock his teeth from

his fucking mouth.

 “Give us the kids, prick. And cut the fucking theatrics,” Ky drawled and

folded his arms, waiting for Diego to speak.

Diego, even to this exchange, was wearing an expensive black suit and tie.

His brown eyes went ice cold. “I want to see her first.” He pointed to the
van Landry guarded. “Only then will the exchange take place.”

Styx eventually looked back at me and nodded. I passed by Smiler, who

was watching that van like a hawk. Slash was in there. This all had to go to

plan. I approached the truck and saw Adelita sit up straight. I opened the
passenger-side door. “You ready, baby?”

Adelita climbed from the truck. I led her through the Hangmen. I held my
hand back. Adelita slipped her hand in mine and fucking squeezed it tight.

As we broke through the final few brothers, we stood beside Styx and Ky.
Adelita released my hand and walked forward toward Diego.

I saw fire light in Diego’s eyes on seeing Adelita . . . until he saw what she
was wearing. Then that fire lit into a fucking inferno. The cartel princess
stood in biker bitch clothes. “Adelita . . .” Diego said, softly.

“Diego.” No one would ever know my bitch was scared. She stood like a
fucking warrior queen, staring down her ex-fiancé.

“You’ve seen her,” Ky said. “Now show us our prospects.”

Diego nodded, but he was wearing a sadistic kind of smile. I braced

myself, wondering what the fuck it was for, when Landry opened the van. I
couldn’t see inside. Then a Klansman came out of the dark cabin, pulling a
beaten woman with blond hair to the ground.

At first I didn’t know what the fuck was happening, who the hell she was,
until Adelita whispered, “No . . .” The woman lifted her swollen eyes at the
sound of Adelita’s voice, and a pained sound ripped from her throat. “No!”

Adelita cried again, and this time tried to run toward the woman. The
beaten bitch had a rope around her throat, the binds rubbing her skin raw. I

grabbed Adelita before she could gain any ground. “Charley!” she cried,
and my head snapped to the woman. Charley . . . Adelita’s best friend. The

bitch from California.

“I thought I’d better bring some insurance,” Diego said coldly.

Adelita shook in my arms. “My father will kill you when he finds out you
have taken her.”

Diego’s head tipped to the side. “Cariño . . . it was his idea.”

Adelita froze. She gasped. But she didn’t argue back. After what she had

discovered about her father, I figured she believed he was capable of

anything.

“The prospects, cuntface,” Ky growled. “I’m getting real tired of your

bullshit.”

Without taking his suspicious eyes off me and Adelita, he signaled with
the click of his fingers for Landry to bring out the captives. In seconds they
were being pushed from the van and into the clearing. Flame snarled behind
us, and I felt the tension rise among the brothers as the prospects came

closer. They were beaten, their faces covered in blood. A Klansmen led
them to the center of the clearing and kicked each of them to their knees. I

rocked on the spot, ready to just fucking storm these fuckers and take as
many out as I could. But Adelita turned to look at me.

Diego walked to the prospects and pulled out a knife. Styx held out his
gun, the Hangmen Mute ready to shoot Diego through the skull. Diego

moved beside Slash, reached down and cut the rope that bound him. He
next moved to Zane, and finally to Lil’ Ash.

“Adelita,” Diego said, and jerked his head—a command for Adelita to go
to him. Adelita’s eyes moved from the prospects to Charley, who was being

held at knifepoint by a Klan solider. And finally to Diego. Adelita moved

from my arms, and it took everything I had not to wrench her back to me
and take her the fuck away. With a sad smile, Adelita walked away from me
and toward Diego. My blood ran cold. I didn’t like that look in her eyes.

Like she was saying goodbye for real.

Only the sound of Diego’s voice took my attention away from her. “Get to
your fucking feet.” The prospects did as he said. Adelita got closer and
closer to Diego.
 The relief I saw on the prospects’ faces as she approached was obvious.
They were fucking kids. They’d be scared shitless. Adelita stopped next to

Diego. He smiled at her. Tank laid his hand on my arm to stop me from
going over there and taking her the fuck back. I breathed, trying to calm
down.
“The kids,” Ky barked.
Diego nodded, but then said, “Oh, just one more thing.” One second he

stood beside Adelita, and the next he had his arm around Lil’ Ash’s throat, a
gun to his head. Looking directly at Ky and Styx, Diego said, “You took
something of mine, now I’ll take something of yours.”
Lil’ Ash’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. Flame roared

in rage from behind us and plowed through the men to get to his brother.
Diego released his safety, just as Slash rushed at Ash from the side and
knocked Ash to the ground and out of Diego’s hold. Diego didn’t falter;
instead he turned the gun on Slash and shot a bullet straight through the

kid’s eyes. The world moved to slow motion as Lil’ Ash’s scream ripped
into the air, followed by Smiler’s, who ran from the men toward his cousin
lying on the ground. Blood seeped from his head. Slash’s eyes were open,
staring at nothing.

The world slammed back into real time as Ash pushed off the ground and
ran toward us. Grabbing a couple of guns from Ferg, one of the Florida
chapter’s brothers, he turned back into the clearing and started firing.
Fucking roaring and firing bullet after bullet into Klan and cartel flesh.

Flame was beside him in seconds, guns aimed at the Klan who had started
firing back.
“Zane!” Viking’s voice rang out to the youngest prospect, who was
watching the scene like he didn’t know what the fuck to do. One of the

cartel rushed at Zane, knife ready to stab the kid. A shot rang out in the
distance, and the cartel fucker hit the ground—bullet to the heart. AK. Zane
only took a second to lean down and pick up the cartel prick’s gun. He
followed Ash. I watched as the little fucker started firing slugs at the cartel

and Klan. Two men immediately went down. I was sure the kid had never
killed before . . . He had now.
Ash looked as insane as his brother as the three of them tore bullets
through the Klan and cartel. Ash had snapped. Smiler was on the ground
beside Slash, trying to pull him back to our line, Smiler’s face full of

fucking agony. Tank helped him, but as the kid was dragged past me, I saw
that he was gone.
Diego.
Diego had killed Slash.

I was gonna fucking end Diego.

 “Tanner!” Adelita’s voice cut through the deafening sounds of bullets.

Diego had sunk back into the cartel’s protection line. Rushing through the
mass of battling men, I sank my knife into anyone who came my way, firing
my gun and slicing my bullets through their heads. Adelita was rushing
toward me. “Charley! Tanner . . . we need to get Charley!” Adelita fell into
my side, and I searched the clearing for Charley.

Viking was closest to her. “Vike!” Viking turned his head as he fought off
the Klan. “The bitch!” His head snapped to the side as Charley staggered
around, clearly drugged and disorientated. She was trying to escape. Viking
slung his arm around her waist and tried dragging her back. But the bitch

was fighting him. Punching him in the face and striking kicks. She broke
from his arm, just as a Klan solider rushed at Vike. Viking stabbed the
fucker in the neck, then slashed his throat. But before he could get Charley,
she was being pulled back to the cartel line by one of Diego’s men.

“No!” Adelita screamed. “Charley!” Cars and trucks from the cartel and
Klan started roaring out of the clearing.
“Pull back!” Ky ordered as the Klan and cartel started to retreat. Adelita
was fighting to break free and find Charley. I kept hold of her, refusing to

let her go. The clearing was littered with dead bodies. But I couldn’t see
Charley among them.
 Viking rushed at Flame and started pulling him back from hacking at a

body that was more than dead. Flame’s black eyes were insane as he fought
Viking. But Vike held strong. “Flame. It’s Vike. We gotta go.” Clarity
seemed to hit Flame. But not his brother. Ash had gone full fucking psycho,
shooting at the dying Klan and cartel until their faces were unrecognizable,

firing bullets into dead bodies just to see them fucking jump.
Styx grabbed Ash’s collar and started yanking him back. The kid started
trying to fight Styx. “Get the fuck off me! I gotta kill them! I gotta fucking
kill them!” he snarled, face red and eyes bloodshot. Fucker was lost to

bloodlust. Styx didn’t even entertain the kid; he just kicked his guns from
his hands and threw him toward the truck.
“He pushed me outta the way!” Ash roared, his voice breaking. “He
fucking took a bullet for me and now he’s dead! That should have been
me!” He punched his chest. “That fucking should have been me!” Flame

rocked on his feet beside his brother. I could see by Flame’s tortured
fucking face that the guy didn’t know what the fuck to do. But when Ash
screamed and fucking roared into the air, Flame grabbed Ash by his neck
and pulled him to his chest.

Ash fucking fell apart as Flame’s eyes squeezed shut, and he breathed fast.
Ash clung onto to Flame, and it didn’t look like he was ever letting go.
 AK came gunning toward us. He raced straight to Vike and Zane. He

kissed Zane’s head. “You killed them?”

“They killed Slash,” Zane said. His voice was shaking, and I knew that
Zane wouldn’t be a kid anymore after today. Once you took someone’s life,
any innocence you had left was gone.

AK hugged Zane, then said, “Get in my truck.” AK turned to Ash, still in

Flame’s arms. “Flame, Ash, you get in too.”
Ash broke from Flame. He glared at the bodies. “Ash, in the truck,” AK
repeated. Ash turned on AK. AK’s eyes narrowed. “I said get in the fucking

truck, Ash.” Ash looked like he was about to argue, but he turned and got in
the back next to Zane. The kid’s eyes dropped to his hands that were
covered in blood, and he started rubbing his fingers together, fixated on the
blood.

“Home,” Ky ordered, speaking for Styx. “We convoy back to the

compound.” I led Adelita toward the truck. She was quiet, too quiet. But
when Smiler walked past us, covered in blood, heading to AK’s truck with a
lifeless Slash in his arms, a cry ripped from Adelita. She watched them all

the way to the truck. Smiler’s face was blank, but his eyes were full of
nothing but fire and pain. My fucking chest tightened when he got in the
truck and cradled Slash’s body to his chest. Tears started fucking streaming
down his face as he kissed his cousin on the head over and over again,
rocking him back and forth.
Adelita watched it too. Her face was wrecked watching reality slam home
to Smiler. Slash was dead. His fucking cousin was dead.

“Lita, come on, baby.” But she didn’t move. She was numb and couldn’t
tear her eyes from Smiler and Slash. I lifted Adelita into the truck and
followed my brothers as they roared out onto the road.
My heart started slamming in my chest as I thought of the way Slash had

saved Lil Ash. Smiler’s cousin . . . gone. Because of motherfucking Diego.

I was gonna kill him. Somehow, someday, I was gonna cut his fucking
throat and smile as I watched him die a slow and painful death.
I cut a glance to Adelita. Her lips were pale, and she was shaking.
Hooking my arm around her shoulders, I pulled her to me. She immediately

rested her head against my chest and put her arm around my waist. She held
on tight to me as we drove all the way home. Her tears drenched my shirt.
When we arrived back at the compound, brothers gathered in the bar. Edge
and Rider were waiting for the men who were injured. I bypassed the bar

and took Adelita straight to our room. I ran the shower and moved to where
she stood. Her eyes were full of tears, and her arms were wrapped around
her waist like she would collapse if she didn’t somehow hold on. “He killed
him,” she whispered when I rubbed my hands up and down her arms. She
was so fucking cold. “He killed him, mi amor . . . he killed that boy and it’s
my fault.”
My stomach dropped seeing her so broken, so sad. Slash was only a few
years younger than Adelita. Right now, she looked so fucking young. “It’s

not your fault, baby. It’s that cunt’s fault. He killed him, not you.” My jaw
clenched just picturing the way Diego put a bullet through Slash’s head.
The fucker had smiled.
“He killed him in revenge. He killed him because I was here . . . he saw

me with you. He can’t stand to fail, Tanner. He will have seen my abduction
as a failure. This is just the beginning of his payback. I’m sure of it.”
Adelita shook more. “Come on.” I guided her to the bathroom and took off
our clothes. I brought her into the hot shower and let the water fall over her

head. I cleaned the blood spatters she’d received in the fighting from her
skin. And I kissed her. I kissed her, so she would forget, if only for one
minute of peace. When I took her to bed, I laid her down and let her break
down.

“It’s wasn’t your fault,” I said. Adelita didn’t speak. She was too
destroyed. I stared at the ceiling as her breathing evened out. I stared at the
darkness and thought of that piece of shit, Diego. Thought of her best friend
who was beaten and being dragged around like a slave, all so Adelita would
comply. Then I thought of Slash as the kid pushed Ash from Diego’s arms.
Thought of that bullet slicing through his skull . . . and his eyes, as they
stayed frozen with death. Smiler as he held him in his arms.
Adelita had fallen asleep. Slipping out of the bed, careful not to wake her,

I threw on a shirt and jeans and left the room. When I walked into the bar, it
was to fucking carnage. Voices were raised—brothers all talking over one
another.
Styx’s loud whistle silenced the room. Everyone turned to him. “We need
a plan,” Ky said as Styx signed. “They’ll be back. That cunt is never letting

this go. He wants Adelita and he isn’t gonna stop at anything until he gets
her.”
Tank’s hand came down on my shoulder. “You good?”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t. But I wasn’t dead, so I kept my mouth shut.

“We took what he sees as his,” Styx continued. “And he wants her back.”
Styx ran his hand through his hair. He paused, like he was thinking
something through. “But I saw that asshole’s eyes. It ain’t only about
Adelita now. We showed him up. Fuckers like him can’t let shit like that go.

So, I’m calling on some of the northern states. We need to end this war
soon. We have more men than him. We have more guns . . .” Styx eyes
hardened. “And that cunt has pissed me off. He killed one of our prospects.
Sent him to the boatman. A fucking kid . . . it’s personal now.”
 “Diego is one of the bastards who fucked over Phebe and Sia,” Ky added.
“Fuck the Klan. They’ll die in time. Right now, we’re going after Quintana
and Diego. And we ain’t gonna stop until every single one of them is dead.”

Brothers nodded in agreement. Some smiled, excited for the cartel

murders that were on the horizon. Styx looked at us all in the eye. He raised
his hands. “Fuck your bitches tonight. Tomorrow night we bury Slash, then
we plan how to take out the cartel. Because make no mistake about it,

Hades is about to fuck up a small piece of Mexico.” Styx dropped his

hands, downed the whiskey that had been put before him, then walked out
of the room.
Tank ran his hand over his shaved head. “Shit brother,” he exclaimed and

dropped to the table closest to us. I sat down beside him. “Did you see Beau
today?” I nodded. “He was glaring at you like he didn’t even know you.
The piece of shit. He’s your fucking brother. Never thought he was that far
in with the Klan. But the way he was today . . .” Tank exhaled, cutting

himself off from whatever he was gonna say.

My pulse kicked into a sprint when I asked, “Did you see him go down? In
the fight?”
Tank met my eyes. He knew me better than anyone here. Only Adelita
knew me more. He had to see that even after everything, pathetically, I was

still worried for my kid brother. Tank lost some of his anger. “I didn’t see
him in the fight at all. Then again, I didn’t see much apart from my knives
stabbing necks and my bullets shredding through hearts.” I relaxed. But that

meant shit. That battle was a mindfuck of blood and flesh. “Took out some
of our old brothers,” Tank said.
“And how did it feel?”
Tank smiled. “Good, brother. Real fucking good.”
I tipped my head back and ran my hands down my face. It was a shitshow.

All of it. I had no idea if Beau had survived. If Landry had either. But I
knew Diego had. Of course that slippery fucker had. I tried to think what
his next move would be. But my head was filled with Slash’s face as he hit
the ground and Adelita’s cries in bed as she blamed herself.

“Fucking Lil Ash,” Tank said, voice shocked. I looked around the bar.
There was no sign of Flame, Ash, Zane, or Vike.
“He snapped,” I said, and Tank blew out a slow breath in agreement.
“That kid . . . in that moment, he was Flame.”

I thought back to Ash grabbing guns and starting the battle. The
seventeen-year-old kid raining down bullets on the cartel and Klan like he
killed for fun. Tank’s hand came down on my shoulder. “Brace yourself,
Tann. I got a feeling this war is just beginning.” Tank got to his feet. “I’m

gonna find Beauty.” He paused, then looked me in the eye. “You sure
you’re okay? That was heavy shit today. Especially for you.”
 “Yeah.”
Tank’s eyes narrowed on me like he could see through my bullshit. But he

slapped my back and left the bar. I walked outside. I needed some fucking
fresh air. The tents from the visiting chapters took up most of the grounds.
Shutting my eyes, I pulled out a smoke and leaned against the wall as I let
the nicotine work its magic. When I was done, I flicked the butt to the

ground and went back inside. Shucking off my clothes, I climbed in bed
beside Adelita and wrapped my arm around her waist. I was keeping my
bitch close.
Adelita had always been full of light. A damn firecracker from the minute

I met her. But when Slash fell tonight, I saw that fire in her die out.
I kissed her damp hair and moved my arm around her chest. And I fucking
held on all night while she slept. I replayed today in my head like a damn
record stuck on repeat . . . Beau, Landry, Diego, Slash . . . everything.

It was all going to shit.

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twelve

Adelita

I thought it fitting that the rain fell hard on our heads. My body was numb
as I stared at the coffin. It was closed, the wound too severe on the

prospect’s head to have an open casket.

My skin shivered, but it had nothing to do with the rain. I trembled as the

casket was lowered into the ground by Hangmen. My eyes fixed on Slash’s
cousin. Smiler’s face was racked with pain so severe that I felt it crack my

heart. I looked around the people here. At the men who had lost a brother. A
man cut down in his prime. I looked at the women, and the sadness that

illuminated their faces.

And I looked to the other two prospects. The remaining two boys who
Diego had taken. The younger of the two appeared haunted as his friend

was laid to rest—coins on his eyes as per Hangmen tradition. But it was

Asher that I focused on. His face wasn’t sad like everyone else’s. It was
furious, his dark eyes savage in their glare. His body was so tightly tensed

he looked like he was going to snap at any moment. His black hair stuck to

his face as the rain sluiced down and drenched him. But his eyes never
moved from the coffin, like if he stared hard enough, he could resurrect his

friend.

My stomach fell. Because he never would. He would never have his best

friend back. And he would probably forever blame himself for Slash

pushing him out of the way. When it was my fault. It was all my fault.
Diego killed that young man because of me.

All this pain . . . all this violence and death was my fault.

Tanner’s hand sought out mine, giving it a brief squeeze before he let go. I

couldn’t look at him as the men lowering Slash into the ground stepped

back from the grave. Every one of the Hangmen took out their guns.
As Smiler started shoveling the dirt over the coffin, Styx fired a single

shot into the air, the sound causing the birds to scatter from the surrounding

trees. Like a rehearsed dance, the rest of the Hangmen fired numerous shots

into the air. But Asher still didn’t move. His midnight eyes stayed fixed on

the quickly covered coffin, his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists

at his side. I tore my eyes away, unable to witness such pain and rage, only

to find Saffie flickering covert, worried glances toward Asher. She stood
under her mother’s umbrella, holding onto Phebe as always. It was like

Saffie couldn’t stand without her mother’s help. But her eyes kept drifting

to Asher. He never once noticed her looking. And I thought it was a shame.
Asher clearly needed someone to comfort him right now. And Saffie looked

like she might be willing to offer it.

When the final shot rang out, silence fell around the forest. We all watched

as the last of the dirt was thrown over the coffin, and Smiler brought over a

temporary cross to stand at the head of the grave. Tanner had told me that a

Hangmen headstone was being made.

Smiler took a sledgehammer and knocked the cross into the ground. And I

swore, with each hit of the hammer on the simple wooden cross, I saw a

part of his soul disappear. The rain had lessened enough for me to realize

that the drops falling down Smiler’s cheeks were not rain. But tears for the

cousin he would never see again, the family member he had lost. I could no

longer fight the lump in my throat at the sight of such a strong man

breaking. Only to become worse when the doctor I knew as Rider came

forward and put his hand on Smiler’s arm. Smiler’s hands shook as he hit

the cross for the final time. Then like a dam cracking, he turned his head

into Rider’s chest and agonized cries soared from his shattered heart.
It was too much. The guilt, the pain and the knowledge that it was all

because of me that Slash was dead. That Smiler had lost his cousin. Tanner

must have sensed my sadness, as he wrapped me in his arms. I buried my

face in his cut and let the familiar scent of Tanner and leather warm me. But
it was no use. I was cold. And I wasn’t sure if I could ever feel warmth

again.

“Come on,” Tanner urged. I saw guilt written on his features too. Was this
all our fault? Was this man dead because we had needed to be together so

much? I wanted to ask Tanner, but I was too scared. I didn’t want to know

the answer.

Tanner put his arm around my shoulders and took us toward Smiler. Each

of the Hangmen were walking to him and putting their hand on his back in

silent support. Rider had stayed beside him the entire time. We stayed back

and waited until it was our turn. My lip trembled as we approached him,

and as I met his haunted eyes, I couldn’t speak. Tanner laid his hand on his

back.

“I am sorry,” I mouthed, and felt that I had never spoken so little for such

great meaning in my entire life. Smiler didn’t answer. I wasn’t even sure if

he was taking anything in right now. He looked numb, trapped in a hell

from which he couldn’t escape.

Tanner guided me through the forest and back toward the clubhouse. I

stared at Hades on Viking’s cut up ahead. I stared at the dark god, noose in

one hand and a gun in the other. I wondered if he had taken Slash into his

arms—one of his own coming home.

 The sky was dark and turbulent, reflecting the somber mood of the entire

club. We made our way into the bar, and brothers started drinking. I quickly

realized that tonight wasn’t for quiet contemplation, but for drinking and

temporarily forgetting the dangerous world these men—and women—lived

in. It was to drink to a fallen brother, before the act of revenge would

inevitably follow.

We sat at a table. I felt Tanner’s eyes on me. I didn’t look up. My chest

was swirling with too many emotions, and I knew he would see straight

through me. Tanner always had. And right now, I needed to be alone with

my thoughts. He didn’t let me be alone though. Tanner lifted my chin with

his hand. As soon as I met his eyes, those blue eyes I adored so much, he

leaned down and kissed my lips.

I looked around the bar, at all the men and women. Smiler and Ash hadn’t

made an appearance, nor had Rider. Zane was with AK and Phebe. At the

funeral, the boy had never looked up from the floor. I remembered him

shooting men two and three times his age, his bullets hitting hearts and

heads and necks. And I wondered if he could sleep at night, or if the faces

came to haunt him. AK had put his arm around his Zane’s shoulder at the

beginning of the service and kept him close. That boy clung to him like a

magnet.
 It made me think of Smiler and Slash and how Smiler had been alone as he

buried his cousin. “Where’s Slash’s mother?” I asked Tanner. “His father?”

Tanner must have understood who I meant. “Don’t know.” He ran his hand

through my hair. “Smiler isn’t a talker. Don’t know anything but he was in

the army. Don’t know how he came to be here. Don’t know much about

Slash either.”

“He was alone,” I whispered, thinking of Smiler’s tears as he shoveled dirt

onto Slash’s coffin. “He had no family with him. He has no one to love

him.” Tanner pulled me close. The quiet comfort in his embrace was short

lived as Tank and Beauty came and sat down beside us.

“Drinks?” Tank said somberly. Tanner got up with Tank and headed to the

bar. I watched the two best friends walking together, and in that moment

was eternally grateful for Tank. He had been there for Tanner when he was

a beaten lost boy. Tank had been the one to save him in so many ways. He

had been there when Tanner no longer wanted the Klan. And Tank had

given him a home amongst these men, a refuge when he had nowhere else

to go.

A flicker of peace calmed my heavy heart. Tanner wasn’t alone. He had

people—people other than me who loved him.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Beauty’s voice pulled me from staring at Tanner

and Tank. I turned to Beauty who was studying me. “I can see it in your
eyes, darlin’. You blame yourself.”

“Diego was pissed about me.”

Beauty sighed. “The Hangmen took you, sweetie. From your home before

anyone knew who you were.” Although that was correct, it was little

comfort. Beauty edged closer to me. She pointed to the men in the room.

“You are cartel, Lita. I know you get this life more than anyone who has

walked through the doors on the arm of a brother before now. So, you don’t

need me to tell you that anyone who swears his allegiance to this club, to
this life, does it knowing the risks. Any brother who slips on a cut with

Hades on the back knows that he might not live to see the next day.” She
sighed. “It’s hard. And when something like this happens, to someone so

young, it hurts twice as bad.” Beauty took hold of my hand. “But blaming
yourself won’t bring him back. It’ll only cause you a lifetime of pain.”

Tanner and Tank came back over to the table with our drinks. I stood and
moved to wrap my arms around Tanner. His eyes were suspicious. I kissed

him. Tanner kissed me back. When I pulled away, I said, “I’m going to the
bathroom.”

“You okay, princess? Really?”

“I will be.”
I left the bar and headed in the direction of our room. But I stopped when I

passed the medical room that Edge and Rider worked from. Checking no
one was around, I tried the knob. It opened, and I slipped inside the dark
room. Using the light from the moon outside, I searched through the

drawers until I found what I was looking for. Putting it my pocket, I went
into Tanner’s room and placed it where it was accessible but out of sight.

Going to the desk Tanner worked from, I pulled open the drawer and took
out one of the burner cells. Making sure the door was locked, I turned the

cell on and called the number. The minute the cell clicked on, I said, “En
cuatro horas nos vemos en el sur de la propiedad Hangmen. Me regreso a
casa.” I hung up, turned off the cell and put it back in the drawer exactly

where I found it.

I went back to the bar, and the men got drunker and drunker as the night

went on. Eventually, I turned to Tanner. “Can we go to the room, mi amor?

I’m tired.”

Tanner finished his whiskey, then got to his feet. Before we left, I reached
down and hugged Beauty. She smiled at me when I pulled back. “Thank

you for everything,” I said so only she could hear me. “And for caring for
Tanner like you do. You’re his family.”

“Yours too, I hope.”

“Always,” I replied, and tried to hide the emotional hitch in my breath.

Tanner put his arm around me, and we walked to our room. We passed
Phebe and Saffie, and I gave them a small wave. My chest felt full when
Saffie gave a shy wave back. The minute we were back in the room, I
locked the door. Tanner went to his computer and checked something. I

didn’t know what. He didn’t know I was watching him. And I was glad.
Because I got to commit him to memory. His blue eyes and light lashes.

The stern face that lit up only around me. His lips that so beautifully kissed
mine, and his hands that always sought to hold me. Always touched me and

told me, without words, that he loved me more than I ever thought I would
ever be loved.

When he eventually looked up from his screen, I silently held out my

hand. Tanner turned off his computer and came over to me. He didn’t take

my hand. Instead, he picked me up, bringing my legs around his waist. We

didn’t kiss as he led us to the bed. We didn’t talk. There was nothing to be

said. Tonight was for silence, and me showing this man how much I loved
and adored him. How he had given me more in the short times we had

managed to be together than some people got after forty years. I wanted
him to know that I cherished him and what he had given up for us. And I
was proud of him. Proud of the abused boy who had walked away from his

aggressive and controlling father and had risen out of his darkness and into
the safety of light.

Tanner rolled on top of me and started taking off my clothes. I let him
touch me softly and slowly, his fingers caressing my skin. I let him drop my
clothes to the floor, then crawl above me, kissing every inch of my body. I

sat up, so we were kneeling on the bed. I pushed off his cut, lifted his shirt
above his head and pushed down his jeans. Tanner’s breathing increased as

I ran my hands over his broad chest, kissing every scar and old wound I
could find. Finally, I ended up at his mouth. I kissed him gently, threading

my fingers through his hair.

Pushing him down on his back, and never breaking our mouths apart, I
crawled on top of him, and slowly sank down, letting him fill me. On a soft

moan, I placed my hands on Tanner’s chest and stared down at his face. I
never looked away. Not once. I watched as his breathing grew labored. As

his pupils dilated and his cheeks flushed as I rocked back and forth.
Tanner’s hands ran over my body, admiring my every curve like an artist

admired his muse. I savored the feeling. I took every touch into my heart
and let it find in there a home. My gaze stayed locked on Tanner’s as

pressure started to build in my thighs. I felt him pulse inside me. Even as I
shattered apart, Tanner following me over the edge, I watched his beautiful

face tense with pleasure, his eyes closing as his hands gripped my thighs. I
was sure there was no one in the world who loved another like I did him in

that moment.
And I was sure no one’s heart had broken so slowly, so painfully, that

death seemed like welcome relief.

 “I love you,” Tanner whispered. He brought me to his chest with his arms

wrapped around my back. I held back the tears that were threatening to fall.
“Ti amo, Tanner Ayers . . . sempre.”

We stayed that way until I heard Tanner’s breathing even out. Careful not
to wake him, I moved to lie beside him, staring at the bedside clock. Time

was quickly slipping through my fingers. When I knew I had to make a

move, I got up from the bed and quickly dressed. Going to Tanner’s desk, I

retrieved the cable ties he used for his computer wires and moved to the
bed. I took a moment to stop and stare at him in sleep. His face was free

from the usual lines that adorned his face. In sleep, he was at peace and free
from all the worries that I knew plagued him every waking hour of every

day.
He was the most beautiful to me this way—unburdened. Not haunted by

his past.
Seeing I only had a short time to leave, I first looped the cable ties around
his ankles, tightened them, then moved to his wrists. I moved him gently, so

I wouldn’t wake him. Retrieving the needle I had hidden earlier tonight, I
placed it down on the nightstand, then ran my finger across his forehead to

rouse him from sleep. Tanner’s eyes flickered open, and my heart started to
beat a heady rhythm. I was nervous . . . and I warded off the devastation

waiting to settle in.

 The confusion of being awoken from a deep sleep meant it took Tanner a
while to realize he was tied to the bed. He tried to roll toward me but came

up short when his arm and leg pulled at the iron bed rails. His eyes
suddenly widened when he tried to get to me and he found he couldn’t
move. He quickly shed any remaining sleep.

“Lita?” he rasped in an urgent tone. His eyes slammed to mine. I inhaled a

shaky breath. But I spoke. I knew I had to do it quickly, so I didn’t lose my

nerve . . . so I could maintain composure.

“I have to go,” I whispered. “All this violence . . .” I shook my head. “All

this death.” I shut my eyes, remembering Slash’s frozen face as he hit the
ground from Diego’s bullet.

“Lita . . . baby, untie me.” His voice was steady, but I heard the hint of
panic slipping through. “You’re upset and tired.” He pulled on his arm

harder, the iron of the bed grinding under his strength.

“If I go, I can convince them to stop.” Tanner froze, and his head started to

shake “no.” “If I stay, mi amor, he will never give up.” I cleared my throat.
“I cannot do that to these people. To Mae and Charon, Lilah and Grace.

Beauty, Phebe, Sia . . . and Saffie. Lord knows they have all been so much.”
I thought of Ash and his dead eyes. Of Zane and the vacant haunted look he

wore. I took a step toward Tanner and ran my hand down his stubbled
cheek. He didn’t pull away. He seemed frozen with shock. “You have a
good life here, baby. These men . . . they care for you. Tank and Beauty . . .
they love you. They are your family.”

“Lita, untie me.” His voice was harder, and I saw the anger start to build in
his ice-blue eyes. He yanked on the bars, but the ties held. Sitting on the

edge of the bed, I touched Tanner’s chest, his face, and ran my fingertips
around his lips.

Finally, my hand rested over his heart. “It’s beating so fast,” I whispered.
“You’re trying to leave me,” Tanner bit, and yanked at his arms. “You

can’t fucking leave me, baby. Please . . .” When Tanner’s voice grew hoarse
with emotion, it ruined me. But I kept pushing through. My eyes misted and

blurred my vision. But I didn’t fight it. With every word spoken, I was
losing a piece of my soul. I doubted any of it would be with me when I left.

Tanner would own it all. As I wished.

I cupped his face and made sure he met my eyes. I pushed past the agony I
saw reflected in their depths, to say, “I dream that one day, in another life,
we might find one another again.” Tanner’s face contorted with pain. I

stroked the lines from his forehead.

“Lita . . .”
“I dream that we meet each other in some distant future and recognize one
another’s souls. And we’ll be found.” I envisioned the scene in my head.

“Just you and me. No prejudices or hatred would be a part of our lives. No
one would disagree with our union. Culture or skin color would not even be
a factor.” I smiled. “You would simply love me, and I would simply love

you.” I felt like I could physically feel my heart tearing into shreds as I
shared my hopes. “But this life doesn’t hold that dream for us, mi amor.” I
shook my head. “It has always been a fight.” I dropped my forehead to his
and watched as a tear fell from the corner of his eye. I couldn’t bear the
sight. I couldn’t bear to see this strong man, the man I loved with my entire

heart, so hurt. “It has to be this way, baby. I must stop the pain. I have to try
to make things better for everyone.”
Tanner pulled back. “No!” he bit and thrashed on the bed. I saw the cable
tie on his left hand strain. “If you go back to Mexico, they’ll fucking kill

you!” He spoke fast. Urgently. “Diego won’t forgive you for running back
to me at the exchange. Your father will kill you for being with me, period. It
isn’t safe, baby.” He sucked in a breath. “It’s a fucking suicide mission.
You’re going back to die.”

I knew that. I was prepared for it . . . but there was no other way. Tanner
must have seen the resolution in my face because he roared, “No! I won’t
let you go! I’ll come after you. You won’t make it anywhere close to
Mexico.” I lifted the needle, and Tanner’s face paled. “Lita, no . . . no,

baby . . . do not fucking do this!” His voice cut off and he lost all strength.
“I can’t . . . I can’t fucking do this without you.” His head shook. “This
life . . . all this freedom . . . it means fuck all if I don’t have you.”

I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “You will live, Tanner Ayers. You
are strong, and you will love again.”
Tanner fought so hard against the restraints, I worried I had left things too
late. Taking the needle, I pushed it into his neck and saw him immediately

weaken. His blue eyes locked on mine as I saw him fighting against the pull
of the drug. It was the one Edge had used on me when they took me from
Mexico.
Cupping Tanner’s face, I kissed him on the lips and said, “I do not regret a

thing. Not a single thing. If I knew all I would get in a lifetime were these
few stolen moments with you, I would take the pain and hurt all over again.
I’d do it over and over, and over again.”
Tanner made a pained noise, but his eyes started to close. I stayed with
him, stroking his cheek until he was out. A pained sob slipped from my

throat. I let the devastation consume me for a few minutes, until I pulled
myself together. Leaving the room, I walked out into the night air. I heard
the men in the bar, drunk and lost to mourning a fallen brother. I had
counted on them being inebriated.

Walking to the forest that surrounded the compound like a shield, I sank
into the depth of the trees and was quickly lost from view by the thick
covering of foliage. I followed the dirt path for over an hour. I lost track of

time after that, just kept heading south until I came to a break in the fence.
A road lay beyond. I was numb, forcing myself to block out any feelings I
had about leaving Tanner behind. Of seeing Diego and my papa again.
The minute I stepped out onto the pitch-black road, low lights from a
waiting car glared, and the car came toward me. The back door opened, and

I slipped inside. Two of Diego’s guards were in the front seats. They had
guns at the ready, and their eyes scanned the forest.
“No one is coming,” I said, slipping back into Spanish. “This isn’t a trap.”
They clearly didn’t believe me, and drove slowly, checking for an ambush.

When we were away from the compound and taking back roads to Lord
knew where, they kept their focus on the rearview mirror, I assumed for any
sign of attack.
Closing my eyes, I wrapped my arms around my waist. I found I couldn’t

breathe when I thought of Tanner, and leaving him behind. Of him begging
me not to go.
I rubbed at my chest and tried to stave off the panic I felt building inside
me. And I fought it as we arrived on a rural airfield and took my father’s

private plane back to Mexico. As the plane soared into the sky, dawn began
to break. The sky boasted a vibrant pink painting. I stared at the Texan
ground below me and prayed, with everything I had, that Tanner would one
day find happiness. And that one day again, in the next life or beyond, we

would find each other again.

*****

I stared at the hacienda and had to fight my hands from shaking. I didn’t
know what awaited me beyond the familiar wooden doors. But I wasn’t the
woman who had left. I was coming back with knowledge of my father and
ex-fiancé that I would never have previously believed.

The car came to a halt, and the guard who’d picked me up opened the
door. I climbed out and made my way up the stairs. When I went inside, the
foyer seemed cold and barren. And I now knew this was a house built on
the pain and suffering of innocent women. On their loss of freedom and
blood.

Carmen came rushing from the direction of my suites. The woman who
had taken care of me since I was a child threw her arms around me and held
me tightly. I held her back. “Adelita,” she whispered, and I saw relief on her
face. “Come. Let us get you cleaned up and out of these clothes.” I glanced

down at my black jeans, boots, and the Hangmen tank Beauty had given
me. I felt a sudden urge to push Carmen away.
 “I am going to see my father.” I headed in the direction in his office.

Carmen stood in my path, face flustered.

“No, Lita. He has insisted you be cleaned and rested after your ordeal. He
will visit you when his business is done.”
Pure anger ripped through me, and I pushed around Carmen,

determination in my step. I marched to my father’s office. I didn’t bother

knocking, simply pushed the door open and walked inside.
My father sat behind his desk. Diego sat in the opposite seat. At my
entrance, they both spun around. Annoyance drifted across my father’s face

until he saw it was me. Then his eyes absorbed what I was wearing. His
face wore an angry expression. “I told Carmen to make sure you were to
rest before I came to see you.”
“Tell me it isn’t true,” I demanded, working hard to stop my voice from

shaking. My father’s head tilted to the side. As he sat before me, I felt like I
was staring down a stranger. “Tell me it isn’t true.”
“What isn’t true?”
“The women,” I said, my voice losing strength. “The women and young

girls you steal and sell to men for sex. To be slaves and God knows what
else.”
My father was good. I knew there were years of schooling his expression
—to enemies and business partners—that made sure his face remained
neutral. But I was his daughter. And I saw, by a flash in his eyes, that it was
true. It was all true. I knew this, of course. But to witness the lack of guilt in
his eyes, eyes I had admired all my life . . . it was like taking a hammer to
my heart.

“Why?” I whispered.
Papa changed in an instant. The ruse was gone, and he collapsed back in
his chair. This was Alfonso Quintana. This was the man, the face people
saw before he had them killed . . . before he raped them. This was the man

who took Saffie over and over again. “It’s business.” He sighed. “You
wouldn’t understand.”
“I wouldn’t understand?” I laughed at the assumed naivety. “What
wouldn’t I understand?” My voice raised a notch in volume. Adrenaline
fueled my every move. “I wouldn’t understand that you kidnap women

from their vacations or from vulnerable situations? Children, that you

kidnap, buy, and sell into slavery?” I stepped forward and made sure I was
looking directly into his eyes as I said, “And wouldn’t I understand that you
requested young girls to fuck while visiting your slave camps and forced

them to endure you taking them against their will? Children. Fucking
children!” My chest rose and fell with the anger that was pumping through
my muscles. My father’s face reddened. I had never spoken to him this way.
I had never disobeyed him. Never even cursed in front of him. Silence
thickened the air. “When?” I demanded. “When did this start? How long
have you been trafficking women?”
“Since you.” My eyes snapped to Diego. He was watching me with a smug
smirk. And I was sure he caught the blood draining from my face. My

mouth opened, ready to speak, but no words came . . . me? What the hell
was he talking about? Diego saw my confusion. “You were the first,
Adelita.” Diego looked to my father, who had turned just as white. “That’s
right, isn’t it, Alfonso? She was the first?”

“What?” I whispered, my heart kicking into a sprint. My father moved

quickly and lifted a gun from under his desk. I instinctively stepped back,
thinking he was raising it at me, but instead, he aimed it at Diego. Before
my father could fire, Diego pulled a gun from his jacket and shot my father

through the head. I screamed as blood spattered the wall behind my father
and his body slumped in the chair. His forehead hit the desk with a thud.
Blood started to flood from his wound.
Heartbeat thudding in my ears, I barely registered Diego calling someone

on his cell, until I heard the sound of gunshots thundering in and around the
house. Panicked, I turned in the direction of the door. All I could hear were
screams and shouts, and bullet after bullet leaving the barrel of guns.
“The house is mine,” Diego stated, making me turn his way. My knees
were weak. Fear was all I could feel. Diego straightened his suit jacket, like
he hadn’t just killed my father and all his men in the hacienda.
“Carmen . . .” I whispered.
“No one loyal to your father can be kept alive.” Instant sorrow burrowed

in my chest. Diego’s arrogance shone through in his tall stance. “It has
taken me years to sway enough men to my side, Adelita. Years. Your father
was a weak leader. Too concerned with women and acting the perfect cartel
boss.” He shrugged. “I have plans for this cartel. Plans that exclude your
father and the dead weight he calls his best men.”

“No!” I shook my head and tried to comprehend what was happening.

“You,” I said and focused my anger on Diego. “You are involved in the
trafficking, aren’t you? You are as much a part of that shitshow as my
father! Is that your big plan? Slaves?”

Diego kept his cool. “They couldn’t have children.” I froze, confused by
his stark change in topic. “Your mother and father.” He paused, allowing me
catch up. “At least those you believed were your parents.” My eyes
widened, and I tried to keep my cool. But I didn’t know how. What was he

saying? Diego sat down on the seat opposite my father—my dead father. I
couldn’t look at the body. Neither could I move. I was rooted to the spot.
“He killed her, Adelita. Your father. He killed your mother when she found
out what he’d done.”

“The trafficking?” I whispered. “She found out about his business?”

 He slowly shook his head. His eyes were cruel and cold. “When she found
out you’d been stolen from your birth mother—a woman who had never
wanted to let you go.” The pain in my chest was so great I couldn’t breathe.

The air seemed too thick to inhale, and my lungs were fighting against it.
My hand came to my chest. “You were the resolution to a deal gone
wrong.” He shrugged as if my life was nothing. “I don’t know the full story.
But I know your biological father owed Quintana a lot of money. Your

father—Quintana—was about to ruin him and his organization.” He met my

eyes. “You were the solution. You for the organization to survive.”
“I don’t believe you,” I replied, but my gut told me he was telling the
truth.

“Your mother—Quintana’s wife—discovered where you came from. And

she couldn’t live with it. She wanted to return you to the woman you were
ripped from. Stolen from. But, by then, Quintana had become too attached.
So he killed her.”

“No . . .” I said, but everything started to make sense. The lack of pictures.
The fact he wouldn’t talk of my mother. “But Carmen,” I said. “Carmen
told me I looked like her.”
Diego laughed and shook his head. “You’re so naïve, Adelita.” My
stomach fell. “Everyone who worked for your father was paid to say

whatever he wanted them to say. To ignore whatever he wanted them to

ignore.” Diego got to his feet and came toward me. He picked up a piece of
my dark hair and ran it through his fingers. “You were the first child he

trafficked.” He dropped my hair. “Adelita, you inspired the business that

followed.” He flicked his wrist in dismissal. “It’s simply import and export.
Of what was never an issue. You proved selling humans would be lucrative.
Women and children, at least.” Diego’s hand lay on my cheek, softly, as
gentle as a lover’s touch. “This empire . . . all the money . . . it would not

have happened if not for you.”

My head was spinning, too full with information. I was stolen from my
real mother. Who she was, I had no idea. And my father . . . was not my
father.

I was payment to him for a debt? I was nothing more than a pet? A thing
he bought and raised, crafted to be his perfect cartel daughter?
I could see the happiness on Diego’s face. The satisfaction that he had
been the one to tell me this secret. And he had shot my father . . . removing

the only person who could have given me answers. The only person able to
tell me the person I really was, who my parents were.
“I hate you,” I spat out, and pushed him from me with my hands on his
chest. Diego fell back a few steps, and his smug smile melted away. He

struck out and sliced his hand across my face. My head snapped back with
the force of the blow. Before I even had a chance to recover, he slammed
me back against the wall, knocking the air from my lungs. “You think I
don’t know you’ve spread your legs for the Nazi?” His words quickly

cleared my head. I met his eyes. They were furious. “You think I don’t
know the great White Prince of the Ku Klux Klan killed Vincente?” My
pulse and heart raced in one fast beat.
But this time it was my turn to smile. Diego would kill me. I knew that. I

had nothing left to lose. “I love him,” I said boldly, and felt myself calm as
those words came from my mouth. I leaned in close. “He is everything to
me, and no one, not a single person, could ever compare.”
“He’s dead,” Diego threatened. I rejoiced that my words had hit their

intended target. The triumph was short lived. “The Klan are here in Mexico.
We are readying to destroy the Hangmen. And I’ll be the one to take that
cunt out.”
Instant fear for Tanner suffocated my heart. “You are no match for him.” I

looked him up and down, seeing him for the wicked man he was. “In any
way.”
Diego’s fist flew out, and he punched me. He hit me over and over until
my ears rang and the world tilted. I could taste nothing but blood in my
mouth. Diego gripped my hair and dragged me through the hacienda. I tried

to take in what was happening. Bodies littered the floor. I saw Carmen’s
lifeless body on the mezzanine outside my rooms. Diego opened the door
and threw me inside. I hit the floor with a thud. “I’ll be back for you,”

Diego promised. “And I’ll enjoy every minute of killing you, princesa.
Every last fucking minute.” His threat washed over me as he headed to the
door.
“Where is Charley?” I demanded to know. “Where is her father? He won’t
tolerate this! He will come for you, Diego!”

Diego turned around. “Bennett is dead by my own hand. The kill ordered
by your father weeks ago. He was no longer effective as a distributor. We
gave another Californian outlet the contract.” I stopped breathing. “And as
for your best friend . . . she is long gone.”

“Dead?” I asked, breathlessly.

“No. But she’ll wish she was.” The door slammed and the lock turned. I
was left alone. I let the tears flow. I let the choking grief and pain tear me
apart, until I shook with hurt and my chest was raw from too many hitched

breaths. My face throbbed from Diego’s fists, but I crawled to the tapestry
that hid the underground tunnel. When I pulled back the tapestry, nothing
but brick wall greeted me.
A dark kind of acceptance settled over me as the last hope of freedom was

ripped from my hands. Pulling myself to my feet, I staggered across my

room until I reached my bed. The sheets were fresh. Carmen had prepared
my room for my return. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I opened my drawer
and took out my secret box. I opened it, and warmth filled my empty heart

when I brought out the cotton ring Tanner had given me.
As I lay on the bed, I slipped the ring on my finger and pictured his
smiling face. Diego could come and take me. He could kill me as slowly
and as painfully as he wanted. But I would die with Tanner’s ring on my

finger and my promise to him in my heart. So that if we ever met in the

afterlife, he would know I’d been with him until the end. Dying with the

hope of marrying him still firmly in my heart.

Somehow.
Someday.

I would see him again.

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirteen

Tanner

My head ached like I had a hangover. My mind was foggy, too full of a
thick mist I couldn’t clear. My mouth was dry; my tongue felt swollen. I

moved my legs and arms, but they were numb and lethargic. And the
minute I tried to get up, something held me in place. My heart started

racing, like it knew what was wrong before my mind could catch up. I
opened my eyes, the light from outside slicing through my head like a

blade.
“Fuck!” I hissed, my words slurring. My heart was a fucking drum as I

fought to push the rest of the fog from my brain. I thrashed against

whatever held me trapped. Cable ties. I was tied to a bed . . . my bed . . . in

the compound. I fought against the light stabbing my eyes and noticed a

needle on the table beside the bed.

A needle . . .
Images started barreling into my brain. I dream that one day, in another

life, we might find one another again . . . I dream that we meet each other in

some distant future and recognize one another’s souls. And we’ll be

found . . .
 I felt like a crowbar had been taken to my chest, remembering everything

she’d said. Every fucking thing she’d said before she’d left. “Adelita . . .” I

rasped, and pulled against the ties. My pulse pounded in my neck.

“Adelita!” I hissed as my eyes searched the room. It was empty. I saw the

sun again and tried to think if it was light or dark the last time I’d seen her.
I shook my head when I couldn’t piece it together. I pulled harder at the

ties. The plastic only tightened, ripping into my flesh. I didn’t give a fuck as

the blood ran down my skin. I pulled and pulled, but the fuckers wouldn’t

give.

“Adelita!” I shouted, dread cutting me down to my bones. She wouldn’t

have gone. She couldn’t have gone. But then I froze as I remembered the

tears in her eyes.

It’s a suicide mission . . .

“Adelita!” I boomed out, and gave everything I had to tear these fuckers

off the bed posts. “ADELITA!” The cable tie on my right arm gave way. I

yanked on my left arm, when someone crashed through the door to my

room.
I looked to the doorway. Tank was in his jeans, no shirt, gun in hand. His

eyes were bloodshot, like he’d just woken up.

“Tanner. What the fuck?”

 “Cut me the fuck free!” I demanded. Tank didn’t hesitate. He pulled his

pocket knife from his jeans and snapped the cable ties at my ankles and

wrist, ignoring the blood and torn flesh. I launched from the bed and threw

on my jeans and boots. In seconds I burst out from my door. “Adelita!” I

searched every room I could find, but she wasn’t anywhere. I punched

through the door of the bar. There was no one there either.
“Adelita!” I screamed. I turned and raced back to my room. Tank was right

behind me.

“What happened?” he asked. Viking and Rudge appeared at my door.

“What the fuck’s all the noise, mate? Some of us are about to fuck our

sluts for the fourth time and all I can hear is your fucking mouth. It’s off-

putting,” Rudge informed me.

“Four?” Vike asked Rudge, shocked . . . then he smiled and folded his

arms over his big chest. “I’m on round six.” Tank went over to the door and

slammed it shut.

“Tell me what the fuck is happening.”

Pushing past him, I went to the monitors in my room. In minutes I was

searching for any airports nearby. Any of them which had a last-minute

private flight booked in. I stopped when I saw a small airport not too far

away had a last-minute flight scheduled before it had been quickly deleted

from its system. But I hacked my way in enough to find a trace. It hadn’t
had a time or flight numbers logged—that told me everything I needed to

fucking know.

I was on my feet and throwing my shirt and cut on. I rushed to the door,
but Tank grabbed my arm. “Tanner. Where the fuck is Lita?”

“Gone!” I snapped and pulled my arm back. My heart fired off again, and

panic fucking whipped through me. “She fucked me, tied me to the bed,

drugged me, then left.”

“What? Why?”

I ran my hands down my face. I could still feel the last of the drug in my

system. My legs and arms moved slowly. But I had to go. I had to stop her

from fucking leaving. “I’m going to stop her.”

I pushed out of the door and ran to my bike in the yard. I hadn’t even

started the engine when Tank came out and jumped on his bike too. I didn’t

say anything to him. At first he didn’t say anything to me.

“There’s a war, in case you didn’t hear. We ain’t supposed to leave.”

“Just fucking drive to wherever we’re going.”

Tank waited for me to pull out and then was right on my tail. I didn’t

fucking care if the Klan or cartel were near. I’d fucking welcome the chance

to tear someone apart right now. I drove so fast my Fat Boy roared along

the back roads.

 I pulled into the small airport. The runway was little more than a dust path.

An old control tower sat to the left. Blood like rapids in my veins, I parked

up and smashed through the door. Racing up the stairs, I busted through the

entrance to the main center. Some middle-aged fucker jumped to his feet.

My hands were on his collar in seconds. “You have a plane going to

Mexico?” The guy’s face turned bright red as my hands tightened. “Speak,

cunt! Is there a plane to Mexico?”

“Tann,” Tank’s hand came down on my shoulder. “Fucker can’t breathe.”

Forcing myself to calm, I slackened my hands on his collar. The guy

looked about ready to have a heart attack.

“It’s gone,” he said, and I felt my stomach fucking drop. “It left earlier. To

Mexico.”

I couldn’t fucking speak. My eyes wandered to the runway. To the fresh

track marks that were dug into the dust.

“Was there a woman on board?” Tank must have realized I couldn’t speak,

so he did it for me.

“Yes.” I closed my fucking eyes and pushed the guy from me. “Her and a

couple of men. All Mexican.” I heard the guy swallow. “They paid me to

give them clearance last minute. A lot of money. I immediately deleted it

from the system so I wouldn’t be found out. They told me when they

arrived to leave no trace. How . . . how did you know—”

 Anger burned inside me. So fucking insidious, it was all I became. Just a

walking fucking volcano ready to explode. My hands fisted, and on a growl,

I slammed them into the controls below me. I punched the fucking things

until the lights started flickering out. “Tann!” Tank’s voice cut through my

red mist. But I only pushed past him and rushed down the stairs. As soon as

I hit the fresh air, I held my head and fucking screamed. Adelita was gone.

She was fucking gone!

I was too late.

I heard Tank come out of the door behind me. Yanking on my arm, he

pulled me around and gripped my face. “We’ll get her. We’ll tell Styx and

go in after her. We’ll get her back.”

“They’ll kill her,” I rasped, as the truth of those words started to hit me.

“They’ll fucking kill her because she’s with me . . . and she knew it. She

went knowing they’d kill her.”

“It might not be too late,” Tank said, trying to be convincing, and pushed

me to my bike. “We’ll go tell Styx.”

I got on my bike and pulled out of the airport, heading back toward the

compound. But I fucking knew. She’d be killed. Some dark kind of intuition
tore in my gut, telling me so.

The minute we got back to the compound, all the Austin chapter brothers

were in the bar. Tank must have called them from his bike. I hadn’t seen
him do it. But then I hadn’t noticed much of anything on the way back. All I

was thinking about was Adelita. About her face as she told me goodbye. All

to save the club. This club . . . and me.

Bitch was wrong. Without her, there was no fucking me. Everything I’d

done so we could be together was for nothing.

We entered the bar, and all the brothers looked my way. Styx and Ky got

to their feet. “She’s gone,” I said before anyone else could speak.

“We just checked. She left on a plane this morning to Mexico,” Tank
added.

I could see the suspicious looks on the faces of my brothers. Apart from
Smiler and Ash. Smiler just looked fucking dead inside. Eyes lifeless. And

Ash looked like he was about to stab any fucker that pissed him off.
“She didn’t leave because she wanted to.” I made sure all my brothers

were listening. “She left because she knew if she didn’t go they’d be
coming for her.” I met Styx’s and Ky’s eyes. “She wanted to protect your

old ladies from getting hurt. Your old ladies and your kids.” I fisted my
hands. “And she did it knowing she’d fucking die the minute Diego got her

back.”
“She did it to protect us.” Tank backed me up. “She risked her life to help
us. To protect our families. To try and stop another cartel attack on us. So
we gotta go and get her. She’s Tann’s old lady. She’s one of us now. It’s
what we do.”

I couldn’t read Styx’s face, couldn’t tell what the fuck he was thinking. He
raised his hands to say something, when Wrox and the brothers from his

chapter came bursting through the door. Wrox plowed past us and flew his
fist straight into Flame’s face. Flame launched off his chair. Vike and AK

were beside him in seconds. Flame rushed at Wrox and knocked the stupid
motherfucker on his ass. Flame jumped on top of him and started smashing
at his face. AK and Vike charged at Wrox’s men who had tried to rip Flame

from Wrox.
Rudge was next to dive in. Only this fucker had fists that could kill with

one punch. In a matter of minutes, Rudge had knocked two of the chapter
out cold, smiling as they slammed to the floor. The commotion brought

more brothers from the camp outside rushing in.

A loud whistle cut through the room, then Ky, Bull, and Tank started

pulling the brothers apart. AK yanked Flame off Wrox, whose face was
nothing but swelling and blood. But Wrox rolled to his feet and spat at

Flame. Flame’s eyes were savage, promising Wrox a slow and painful
death.

“What the fuck do you think y’all are doing?” Ky asked, standing between
our chapter and theirs.
 Wrox’s men held him back. “He killed him.” As the words fell from
Wrox’s mouth, the room grew in tension. “That psycho fucking killed

Hick.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ky demanded.

Wrox held up his hands. I noticed his cut and shirt. They were coated in
blood . . . and it wasn’t his, or Flame’s.

Styx walked next to Ky. The prez eyeballed the fuck out of every brother
in the room. Nobody moved as Styx silently promised that anyone who did

would be under his knife. Styx raised his hands. “This true?” he asked
Flame. As usual Ky spoke for the prez.

“I never killed that cunt,” Flame snarled, beginning to pace the floor. “I
wanted to. I wanted to rip open his fucking heart and hold it in my hands.”

“He fucking slit his throat,” Wrox said coldly, slowly. “Hick was tied to
the chair, and Flame slit his throat. Hick couldn’t even fight back.”

“I said I never touched him!” Flame growled, and charged at Wrox again.
AK reached for him, dragging him back, and stopped touching him before
Flame went nuclear.

“Well, if he didn’t kill him, who the fuck did?” Wrox asked.
“Me.” A voice sounded from the back of the room. Lil Ash stepped

forward. The kid stopped right beside his brother. Flame was glaring at
Wrox and the other chapter. Scanning them to see if any of them dare move

against his kid brother.

“You?” Wrox said, disbelieving.

Ash smiled. But it wasn’t a good fucking smile. Not the kind we normally
got from the kid. The smile that kid wore was sadistic and fucked up. “Me.”

Ash stepped forward again and held up his knife . . . a knife that was coated
in blood. “I went to that shed, took my knife, went to Hick, and slit his
throat. Slowly. Staring right into his fucking eyes as he drained of blood.”

“You little shit—” Wrox ran at Ash, but Ky held him back by his cut.
“He deserved it,” Ash said, his voice calm. Not showing an ounce of

remorse. “That motherfucker sent us prospects out in the middle of a war,

against Styx’s orders. He sent us right into the path of the cartel. It was easy

for them to catch us. And he fucking killed Slash! That cunt was on
borrowed time the second he gave that order.”

“Shut the fuck up, Ash,” AK snapped and pulled the kid beside him. Ash
shrugged AK off, his black eyes glaring at Wrox.

“What the fuck kinda club you running here?” Wrox spoke to Styx. “You
ordered Hick to be left in that shed until you would deal with him. That’s

club rules. Yet one of your prospects goes against you, and the club, and
slits his throat. A fucking kid undermining the mother chapter’s prez? That

how it is here now?” Styx’s harsh stare shut Wrox the fuck up.
 “How’d you even get in?” Ky asked Ash. “You don’t have the key.”

“I let him in.” My eyes cut to Smiler, who was still sitting at the table.
Brother hadn’t even bothered to get up when the shitshow started. Just sat

there, watching. Smiler lifted his eyes, glass of whiskey in his hand. “I took
Ash down to the shed when he asked, let him in . . . then I watched him kill

Hick. I watched, with a fucking smile on my face, as he sliced that prick’s

throat open, and we stayed until he was completely drained of blood and

gone to the boatman.” He took a sip of his whiskey. “With no coins on his
eyes.”

Wrox and his chapter threw the first fist. The room became a storm of
hands and knives and blood. I stepped back and ran my hands over my

fucking head. Adelita . . . fucking Adelita! Were they even fucking listening
to me about my bitch? They needed to cut this shit over a brother that had

deserved to die and help me get her back. I didn’t have time for this. I didn’t
fucking have time!
Tank looked back at me, then held my arms. “I swear, Tann. We’ll get her

back. We’ll get a plan together and go.” Bull shouted for Tank as he was
taken on by two men. Tank whipped his head back, then ran to help his

friend. Styx and Ky were fighting too. Ash and Flame . . . every fucker was
fighting, not fucking listening to me.
 I needed to get a plan. I had no fucking time to fight. I needed to get to
Adelita. Making my way to the door, I hit any asshole who came at me. By

the time I’d made it out the door, my knuckles were red, raw and ripped. I’d
left a trail of broken noses and fractured jaws. They’d chosen the wrong
fucking day to mess with me. But I didn’t care. I just headed for my room.

My hands pushed through my hair as I tried to figure out what to do. I

didn’t know what the fuck to do! Rushing to my monitors, I tried to bring

up the cameras in the hacienda. My heart fucking stopped when I saw the
connection was gone. The cameras had been cut. There was nothing but

black screens . . .
What did that mean?

What the fuck did that mean?!

I tried to think. To fucking get the vision of Adelita dead and cold out of

my head. I jumped to my feet and paced. I needed to get across the border
and into Quintana territory. I needed to get to her before they killed her . . .

if it wasn’t too late. I needed to get there even if it was.

Diego was going to die.

An email came through. I looked at the screen to see it was Wade.

I clicked on the mail.

We’re all en route to Mexico. Will be there soon. Diego has killed
Quintana and has taken the house and his men.
 My eyes fucking widened. Shit. SHIT! That meant Adelita was now under
that cunt’s control.

Adelita was dead, I knew it. . . A pain so great stabbed in my stomach that
I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My chest was too tight, my fucking heart

struggling to function.
Adelita would be dead. Numbness spread through my body like poison,

slowing my heart. Filling me with nothing but the need for revenge.
Diego has called us all down to plan the final attack on the Hangmen.

Beau is here. Your father and uncle arrive in a couple of days due to some
business in Texas. It’s everyone in one place. Diego wants blood . . . even

that of the kids. He’s planning on wiping them all out—no Hangmen left at
all. This is personal.

But most of all, he wants you. And he’s not the only one. The Klan. The
fact you stood against us with the Hangmen at the exchange . . . all the
brothers want you punished. They want you dead.
I stared at the fucking screen. At the fact that the cartel and Klan were all

joining together to kill me. They both wanted me. And I thought of Adelita.
Thought of living in a world where she didn’t exist. I’d left the Klan for her.
I’d changed my life for her.
Without her, what was the point?

I hit reply.
 My fingers hovered over the keys. They were fucking shaking, and my
chest was so tight I found it too hard to breathe.

Did Diego kill Quintana’s daughter too?

I stared at the screen, my throat so tight I was sure it was closing. When
the email came through, I couldn’t open it. Like a fucking pussy, I waited
and waited, until I forced myself to press on the message and just fucking
be delivered the truth.

He killed them all.

I read and reread the sentence. Slowly the words began to travel through
my body, one by one shutting everything down inside. My hands, which
had been shaking, folded into fists. My muscles tensed until there wasn’t a

part of me that wasn’t aching. And then the stab fucking hit. The agonizing
slice through my fucking heart that brought me to my knees. My lungs
turned to iron, refusing to work. I gasped, fucking trying to take in air,
fucking something. But it was useless. My palms slammed to the floor and

a fucking roar ripped from my throat. It was all my fault . . . Adelita was
dead because of me. Because she came back to me. Because they believed
she was never meant to be mine. Fucking tears fell from my eyes when I
pictured her dead, on the floor, those fucking brown eyes I loved so much

frozen open in death.

 I fucking drowned in agony, until anger and rage replaced the hole in my
heart. Until every inch of me filled with the need for revenge. To see Diego

dead. To see my father and uncle bloodied under my knife.

And Beau. Even Beau would die. I would fucking kill them all . . . and
pray that they would fucking kill me too. I was done.
Climbing off the floor, I emailed back.

I’m giving myself up. I’m coming to Mexico. The Klan—Beau, my father
and uncle—and Diego can have me. They can kill me.
I hit send.
Why the fuck would you do that? It’s suicide.

I read his response, and a strange kind of peace settled in me. Good.
Arrange it. Tell me when and where. I’m coming in.
Wade gave me what I asked for, and I closed down all my computers,
wiping anything that would lead the Hangmen to where I was going. Taking
a piece of paper, I wrote to Tank.

Tank,
Just want to say thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You were
there when I was in the Klan. You were there for me even when you left. You
were there when I left too. You always had my back. You’re the only person

in my life that I can say that about.

 You’ve been the best friend I could have asked for. And I want you to know

it. Stick with Beauty. There’s not many bitches out in the world like her. You
got one of the best.
I took a deep breath and pressed my pen to the paper again.
I’m done with the running. I’m done with the Klan and the cartel. I’m
going to settle shit once and for all. Going to stop them coming for you all.

Gonna stop this war and keep the Hangmen and the old ladies and kids
safe.
Live free. Ride free. Die free, brother.
Tanner.

I folded the letter and placed it on my desk. Leaving my room, I walked

my bike down to the edge of the compound. I waited in the forest for night
to fall, then pushed my bike to the road. I hadn’t had a clue what the fuck
happened with Ash and Wrox. The place was like a ghost town. But I saw

what all this shit was doing to this club. What the poison from the Klan and
cartel had done to this brotherhood. Fighting among chapters and an
innocent—no, two innocent—kids killing and selling their souls to Hades.
Zane wouldn’t ever be the same after the capture and shootout. Ash had

already gone postal, and Smiler was right behind them, guiding them into
darkness.
 I thought of Mae and Charon. Of Lilah, Grace, and the twins. And of

Saffie and what she’d told Adelita. About her father. About it all. The
fucking club was crumbling. If I stopped the Klan and cartel, they had a
chance to rebuild and fucking pull their shit together.
I didn’t start my bike’s engine until I was well out of sight.

And I headed to the Mexican border. Where the Klan would meet me at an
agreed point and I would be taken in. With every mile of road I traveled, the
closer I got to the men who would kill me; the numbness left me. Because I
would be with Adelita again soon.

I dream that we meet each other in some distant future and recognize one
another’s souls. And we’ll be found.
I was holding onto that fucking dream with everything I had.

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OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Fourteen

Styx

I sat my ass down at my desk. Ky slumped in the chair opposite. “F-fuck.

M-me.” I leaned back on the chair, staring at the ceiling. The bastard sun
had come up a couple of hours ago.

All night. All fucking night I’d been dealing with the fallout of Ash killing
Hick. And Smiler. What the hell had that prick been thinking, taking Ash

down to the shed?

“What a fucking night,” Ky groaned, and downed the coffee he’d just

poured. He slammed the empty mug to the table. “Just when you think we

only have to deal with one Flame, in comes model 2.0. Only this one knows
exactly what the fuck he’s doing.” Ky shook his head. “Makes the kid even

more fucking unhinged in my book.”

Ash was off prospect duty. Banned from club life for a month. Wrox

hadn’t been happy with the verdict—I didn’t give a fuck. This was my club

and my rules, and as I’d told Wrox, Hick had fucked up. Blood had been

paid with blood. It was the fucking Hangmen way. Hick was killed in place
of Slash. Smiler was on leave for a couple of weeks for his part.

What a fucking shitshow.

 But I got it. If that’d been me as a prospect, and some fucker had been

responsible for Ky being killed . . . slitting his throat would have been the

least I’d have done. I’d have taken my sweet fucking time stripping him of

his skin and making the fucker scream. Knowing my old man, he would’ve

slapped me on the back and shot Wrox and his chapter through their skulls
for daring to question him.

I’d sent Wrox and his chapter packing. I wasn’t dealing with their pussy

asses when we were in a fucking war. Those fuckers tried to come at me

and my brothers. And they fucking paid the price. Four in the hospital, and

the rest nursing concussions and fractured jaws. Motherfucking pricks. If

they ever tried that again, I’d fucking slaughter them all myself, no

hesitation.

I knocked back my coffee and was about to get up and get the fuck home,

when Tank crashed through the door. “He’s fucking gone!” he shouted.

Tank waved a piece of paper in his hands. He slammed it down on the table.

I saw scribble on the paper, but Tank made it so I didn’t need to read it to

know who it was from. “He’s fucking gone after her.”

Tank kicked the spare desk chair across the room, the wood splintering

against the wall. “He fucking tried to explain it to us all. He fucking stood

before us all, and then Wrox and his dickheads came at us, and made it so

he couldn’t. Tanner must have slipped out while we were all dealing with
the fallout.” Tank’s hands smashed down on the table top. “He’s gone to

Mexico. On his own. With the Klan and cartel after his blood.” He grabbed

the paper. “This? It’s a fucking suicide note. The brother knows he ain’t

coming back. He knows they both want him.” Tank shook his head. “He’s

gone so they won’t come after the club. Just like Adelita did. They’ve both

gone back, and they’ll both be killed. And what did we do? We fucking
ignored him and focused on Ash killing Hick.” Tank pointed at both me and

Ky. “When it was your old ladies, we fucking armored up and brought hell

to that cult. We didn’t hesitate. But Tanner . . . brother went in alone

because we didn’t have his fucking back when it counted.” He stood upright

and folded his arms across his chest. “So, what the fuck we gonna do about

it? Because we better be fucking doing something. He ain’t the reason we

went to war. Despite what he thinks, it goes beyond his involvement.”

Tank glared at Ky. “You wanted war because of Sia. AK wanted war

because of what happened to Phebe and Saffie. Ash killed Hick because of

what the cartel did to him, Zane, and Slash. Smiler wants blood spilled for
Slash.” Tank dropped down to a seat next to me and Ky. “So, we’re all

going in. I don’t give a shit if it’s just our chapter. But that guy is the best

fucking friend I ever had, and he’s a true Hangman. I ain’t taking no for a

fucking answer.”
 Tank met my eyes, and I could see the challenge in his gaze for me to

argue back. It just pissed me the fuck off. I was getting real fucking done

with brothers in my club thinking they could talk to me however the fuck
they wanted.

I lifted my hands to give him a fucking reality check, when a knock came

at the door. I tipped my head back and signed, “This day is never-fucking-

ending!”

Mae stepped through. Her face was white. I shot to my feet in a second.

Ky and Tank did too. “What?” I signed.

Mae’s wolf eyes were huge. She walked forward, and my fucking heart

started slamming in my chest. “What’s wrong? Where’s Charon?”

“He is safe. He is with Bella,” she said, and my stomach picked the fuck

back up.

“Then what?” Had there been an attack? Was someone missing?

“You need to read this.” Mae held up my mother’s journal.

I shook my head. “Mae, not the fuck now—” I signed, but she cut me off.

“Styx! You must read this. Now.”

I saw Ky frowning, wondering what the hell was going on, curious as to

why Mae was suddenly shouting when she never fucking raised her voice. I

hadn’t told anyone I’d been reading it. Not even Mae . . . though apparently
she knew. Bitch always read me better than anyone else.
 “Adelita . . .” Mae whispered and shook her head, clutching the journal to

her chest. Her eyes filled with tears. “It is Adelita, Styx.” I didn’t know

why, but at Mae’s tone, my pulse started firing like a damn cannon. My

eyes dropped to the journal in Mae’s hands. “It’s her . . .” Mae said, as a

tear fell down her cheek. And then I knew. I knew what she was fucking

saying.

I didn’t know what the fuck came over me. Some kind of deep-level rage

that I’d never felt before. Some damn inherited promise to my mother came

barreling into my fucking gut. But I looked at Ky and lifted my hands. “Get

everyone the fuck here. NOW! I’m calling church.”

“What the fuck’s going on?” Ky asked. Tank looked just as confused.

“Call fucking church!”

Ky and Tank left the office, and I took hold of Mae’s arm, slamming her to

my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her head. “You have to

save her, Styx. You need to bring her back home.”

“T-Tanner’s gone too. G-Gone after her.”

Mae pulled back and placed her hand on my cheek. “No . . .” she

whispered. Her face changed from sad to fucking determined.

Pure motherfucking Hangmen bitch right there. And she was fucking

mine.
 “Then bring them both back, baby. Where they belong. This changes

everything. For you . . . For Charon . . . For her . . .” I took Mae’s mouth,

kissed the fuck out of my wife. When I pulled back, she repeated, “Save

them. This awful wrong needs to be made right.”

Thirty minutes later, I burst into church, driven by fucking red-hot

revenge. My chapter sat at the front of the room, the other chapters taking

up every other bit of space. I didn’t fucking sit. I paced. Then I stood before

them all, making sure all eyes were on me. I fucking let the fire in my veins

lead the way. Ky didn’t question what the fuck was going on. My VP stood

beside me, and spoke for me when I signed. “AK, clear the armory. Today

we ride to Laredo, fully fucking loaded with guns, grenades, and whatever

the fuck else we can take. Chavez and Shadow are waiting for us.”

“What’s happening?” AK asked.

“We’re going to Mexico.” I met every one of my brothers’ eyes. “We’re

going to fucking war.”

*****

The low burn of the truck’s light was the only thing illuminating the space.

I sat with my back against the wall. Ky sat opposite me. We all held Uzis.

Tank was beside Ky. AK and Smiler took up the front—I didn’t give a fuck

about Smiler’s ban. Brother was fucking fueled with as much revenge as
me. He was one of the best fighters we had. He fucking deserved this, Wrox

be fucking damned. AK and Smiler would be the first to go out. Viking,

Hush, Cowboy, Bull, and Flame took up the rest of the cabin.

“The minute the door opens, we fucking fire,” AK said, his voice low so

no fucker would hear. He checked his GPS. “Five minutes.” Then tension

within the truck built as the minutes ticked down. My foot was fucking

tapping on the floor. I could practically taste the blood I was about to spill. I

could hear the screams from the cunts I was about to carve up. Nobody
messes with my club. Nobody messes with my brothers.

And no fucker messes with my family.

We were in a trafficking truck. Shadow had arranged it. Like the Trojan

fucking horse, we were sneaking across enemy lines in the trucks that
carried their slaves into their camps. Shadow, Chavez, and the Diablos were

in another truck. The other Hangmen chapters were hidden in the rest. The
Diablos had taken down a camp that held the trucks, killed every last one of

the Klan fuckers running it. Freed the bitches, and got us the trucks.
The plan to take down the Klan and the cartel assholes was simple. All of

us in this life had enemies. Quintana was no different. In the drug game,
you were always one massacre away from being taken over. Shadow gave
me the name of the fucker who wanted what the Quintana family had. He’d

been trying to take them out for years. Faron Valdez. We made contact . . .
 The rest was a fucking cakewalk.
The Klan—all except the leaders—were camped out in one place. Their

mothership trafficking camp in Mexico. It made the fucktards sitting ducks.

Valdez would take the cartel. I checked my watch. He would have already

made his move.

We were about to make our move on the Klan.

The truck rocked to a stop. I gripped my Uzi. I felt the fucking familiar
rush of adrenaline sail through me. War. There was nothing fucking like it. I
let the words from my mother’s journal fill my head. I let them fucking

ignite the fire in my heart until it swelled my veins and made me want
nothing but to see Nazis falling to the fucking ground under my bullets and

German blade.
A knock sounded on the side of the truck—the signal from the paid-off

driver that the door was about to be opened.

AK held up his hand, our ex-Special Forces sniper leading the way. And

my eyes zeroed in on the door. The lock unlatched, and the second the door
rolled up, AK burst from the truck and opened a fucking sea of fire. In

seconds, we were behind him. Nazis immediately started falling before us.
My pulse raced faster and faster the more the fuckers fell, blood pooling on

the ground beneath them and running under my feet. Truck after truck
opened and our brothers spilled out. Trucks from all fucking directions
came skidding into the camp, doors flying open, my brothers spilling out
like fucking demons. Diablos and fucking Hangmen swarmed toward these

fuckers as they started firing back.

“I’m going to higher ground,” AK said from beside me as I shot a blond

giant right between the fucking eyes. I nodded, and he disappeared behind a
dark building. Bullets were flying from every fucking direction. Hangmen

and Diablo cuts started hitting the ground too. It didn’t stop us.
I scanned the area for my chapter. Ky, Tank and Bull, Hush and Cowboy

were firing their Uzis from the right, hitting targets. Vike and Rudge were
together on my left, doing the same. Flame had his knife in one hand, Uzi in

the other, hacking up the fuckers he shot first. Smiler was the furthest
ahead. Deep in among the Klan who were pouring out in fucking waves

from the buildings. Brother was shooting, then using his knife to cut off
fingers, tongues, ears . . . whatever fucking else he could, before taking

down another. He was going postal . . . but he had the fucking right.
Seeing a Klansmen coming from my right, I sent a bullet through his head.
Another three fell because of my bullets. Then I noticed what looked like

the headquarters ahead. Whistling to Ky and Tank, I pointed at the building.

Klan were dropping fast. There were too many of us for them to take

without the support of the cartel. I scoured the area for any cartel—nowhere
to be fucking seen.
 Seemed Valdez was holding up his part of the deal.

Shooting my way through the Klan charging at us, I made a path for the
headquarters. The giant swastika that hung outside made it fucking obvious

this was where shit went down. Assholes. Always made themselves easy to
fucking work out. Never knew how to just shut the fuck up with all the Nazi

shit.
Making it to the front of the building, I killed the fucker who came
running out—a shot straight through the heart. He fell at my feet, and I spat

on his ugly fucking white-power face. I stood to the side of the building;
Tank and Ky did the same. Nodding at Ky, I smashed the door and started

searching the rooms. Nothing. There was nothing fucking here.

A shot suddenly rang out from my right. The bullet grazed my arm. I

glanced down at the wound—the fucker had drawn blood. Pissed the fuck
off, I charged in that direction. I knocked the fucker to the ground the

minute I found him hiding behind a door. Taking my German knife, I sliced
it into his thigh. The moment his gun fell from his hand, I grabbed the prick

by his neck and dragged him to his feet. Pulling out my knife, I held it to his
throat and threw him into the main body of the building. Ky and Tank came

running in.
“Empty. None of the leaders are here,” Ky said.
 Tank looked at the prick trying to pull out of my arms. He smiled, but it

was nothing but a bloodthirsty fucking grin. “Keaton Brown.”

The asshole in my arms tried to run at Tank. I let that fucker go, and Tank

slammed his fist into the Nazi’s face. He knocked him to the ground. Tank
picked him up and held him still. Walking toward him, I plunged my

German blade right into the fucker’s shoulder. He screamed, and I made
sure I was looking into his fucking eyes as I did so.

Pulling back my knife, I nodded to Ky. Ky kicked the Nazi off his feet.
Fucker sprawled on the floor, groaning. Brothers started coming in through

the door. Bull lowered his gun when he realized it was us. Vike, Rudge,
Smiler, Flame, Cowboy, Hush, and AK came in too. They were covered in

blood and wired from their kills.

“Other chapters are on the perimeters for any fuckers trying to escape.

Diablos are making contact with Valdez.” AK lowered his rifle. “The camp
is ours.”
I turned to the fucker on the floor. As I pocketed my knife and gun, Ky

spoke my sign aloud. “Where’s Landry, Beau Ayers, and the governor?” I
stepped closer until my foot stepped on the fucker’s fingers. I smiled when

his bones crunched under my boot.

The Nazi looked up, but only after the pissant had stopped screaming.

“Not here,” he spat out through gritted teeth . . . then the asshole tried to
smile. Taking my knife from my pocket, I started slicing an “H” into his
chest. He screamed again, his body jumping. Tank yanked up his head.

“Where are they, cunt?” Ky snarled. When the prick didn’t answer, I dug
my knife across his stomach. “He can do this all day,” Ky said, as the Nazis
eyes started to roll in pain.

Tank leaned down. “Tell us where they are, Keaton, and where you’ve got
Tanner, and it’ll be a quick death.” At the mention of Tanner, the fucker

smiled. Blood stained his teeth.

He spat blood to the floor. “That traitor will die,” he hissed.

Will die . . . Tanner was still alive.

Moving in front of the Nazi, I rolled my neck, then drove my blade into

his thigh. He nearly passed the fuck out. With every new slice or cut I
made, he screamed until he was too fucking far gone to scream anymore.

“Tell us,” Tank demanded. The Nazi was close to death—but not close
enough. I could make this last a few more hours at least. “Tell us and it’ll be

quick.”
The Nazi met my eyes. Then his bruised lips opened. “Safe house . . .

fifteen miles . . . north west.”

“How do we get there?” Ky asked.

“Private . . . road.”
“And where’s Tanner?” Tank pushed.
 The Nazi smiled again. It boiled my fucking piss. “He’ll be there . . . by
now.” He choked on the blood starting to claw its way up his throat, but

managed, “He’ll be killed . . . the White Prince will fall.”

I sliced my knife across his mouth, shutting him the fuck up, then stabbed

the fucker in the neck. His eyes widened, and Tank kicked the asshole to the
floor as he choked on his blood. I turned to AK. “Coordinates,” I signed.

“On it,” he said, and took the area map Valdez had sent us from his cut.
AK marked out where the safe house was. “We’ll have to go most of the

way by foot or they’ll hear us.”

I heard the sound of cars entering the camp. “Valdez?” Ky asked.

“Should be,” I signed.

“Be ready to fight,” Ky told the brothers, and I led the way into back into

the center of the camp. I stopped just as we got outside.

“Y’all go for Tanner. We’ll follow as soon as this is done.” I pointed to
myself and Ky. I held my cell up to AK. “Send me the route.” He nodded,
and our brothers took off.

Three black cars stopped in the center of the camp. Dead Nazis, some
fallen Diablos and Hangmen littered the ground. A guy in a black suit got
out of the driver’s side door of the middle car. He opened the back door, and
an older man got out. I stepped to the front of my men, and he immediately

came toward me. “Styx Nash, I presume?”

 Ky stepped beside me. “He doesn’t talk.”
“The Hangmen Mute,” Valdez said. “I’ve heard of you. I’m glad we

finally got to work together.”

I lifted my hands and signed, “Is the Quintana cartel yours?” Ky spoke
for me.
“It is.”
I stared at the fucker with slicked-back hair and an expensive suit. “Where

is she?” I tried to see inside the other cars. I couldn’t see any sign of
Adelita.
Valdez shook his head. “She wasn’t there.” I tensed, and the muscle in my
jaw twitched. I glared at this fucker. He must have seen I was still caught in

bloodlust and was a second from slitting his throat, as he held up his hands.
“We had a deal, Mr. Nash. You wanted the girl alive. For me to not kill her.
I gave my word. She wasn’t at the hacienda.”
“Diego Medina?” Ky asked.

“Fled. Alone, we believe.” My teeth ground in fury. “He won’t get far. My
men are everywhere. He has no allies and nowhere to go that will offer him
safety. It won’t be long until he is discovered . . . and then he will be dealt
with.”

“Adelita? Where would she be?” Ky pushed.

 Valdez shrugged. “She was gone when we arrived. I don’t know where.
Maybe she escaped herself before we got to the hacienda.”

I stepped forward and got right in this fucker’s face. I saw his men move.
Mine moved faster, their guns drawn and fucking braced. “If I find out you
killed her, if you touched one fucking hair on her head, I’ll kill you myself.”
Ky spat out my threat to Valdez.

Fucker didn’t react. “I believe you, Mr. Nash. But we made a deal and I
saw it through. I never killed the girl.” He shrugged. “Who is she without
her father anyway? She’s of no consequence to me now.” Valdez nodded to
one of his men, who moved to the car and opened the door, then looked to

me. “I hope we can work together again in the future, Mr. Nash. We will
take care of Diego Medina as agreed. We will make contact with you when
it’s done.”
Valdez got in the car and drove the fuck away. As he disappeared from
sight, Ky got in my face. “You need to tell me now why the fuck you

suddenly give a shit about Tanner’s bitch this much. And don’t fucking lie
to me.”
I could see my brothers watching, waiting for an explanation. The Diablos
were too. Chavez was close by. Where the fuck was she? And how the fuck

did we even find her now?

“Styx!” Ky hissed. “Fucking tell me!”
 Raising my hands, I signed, “She’s my sister. She’s my fucking sister.”

Ky’s face paled, and his mouth dropped open. I nudged my head in
Chavez’s direction. “And she’s his sister too.”
“What?” Chavez asked, and came walking over. “What did you say?”
Ky’s confusion suddenly cleared. “Fuck . . . your mama and Sanchez had a
kid?” I jerked my head “yes.” “Adelita?” He shook his head.

“How the fuck did Adelita end up with Quintana? What the fuck, Styx?”
Chavez was stock still.
I didn’t have time for this shit. “Keep watch for any other Nazis. We’re
going to get Tanner and the others,” I signed to Chavez, who still hadn’t

moved. Ky told them what I’d said, then followed me to a truck that Crow
had gotten ready for us. I nodded at Crow and got in the driver’s side.
Turning the engine on, I hightailed it to this fucking safe house. It was
about time these Nazi fuckers died. Then we could search for Adelita.

We’d hunt for my fucking little sister.

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OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Fifteen

Adelita

My head hurt as I opened my eyes. My heart raced as a dark room came

into view. Voices murmured in scratchy tones, like they were off in the

distance . . . no, they were coming from a radio. I blinked when I saw a dim
light to my right. I didn’t recognize where I was.

Then my throat clogged with a mix of happiness and relief when I saw
who was sitting under the light. “Luis . . .” I whispered. Luis lifted his head

from the radio speakers. His hand was playing with the controls.
Luis came over and sat beside me. “Lita . . .” he said, and smiled. Taking

hold of my hand, he gave me a glass of water. I took a sip and winced at the

simple act of swallowing. Diego . . . the beatings he had given me . . .

I ached all over. I was so tired . . .

“Sleep, Adelita. You’re safe now. It’s all over. You’re free.” I didn’t know

what Luis meant. I watched him go back to the radio and turn the knobs.
Men’s voices came through the speakers, and I realized he was listening to

conversations. We weren’t in his chapel, either. He must have seen my

confusion. “Working for your father taught me many things over the years,

Lita. I learned quickly how to be sure we were safe. Wiretapping. Secret

hideouts.” His smile fell. “Valdez has taken the house. The factories. I took

you before they could get to you.” My heart fell, and a surge of panic seized

my body. “I heard the plans from Valdez’s men through this. I arrived at

your home just before they did. In the commotion of the takeover, I got into

your rooms and took you away.” He smiled. “There were a couple of
tunnels they didn’t close. Diego never knew about them.” A tear slipped

from my eye. Luis came over and wiped it away. “The Hangmen are here,

Lita. In Mexico. They have come for you and Tanner.”

“Tan . . . ner?” Fear for him made me try to move. Luis guided me back

down to the couch when I hissed out in pain. My ribs . . . my stomach . . .

everything hurt. My heart worst of all. “The Hangmen have taken the

Klan’s camp.” He nodded enthusiastically. “They’ll save him, Lita. I’m sure

of it.”

“He came . . . after . . . me . . .?” My lip wobbled, and my heart ached

when I thought of how I left him . . . and what he’d risked to come and get

me. “He came . . . after me . . .”

“I’ll make contact with the Hangmen as soon as it’s safe.”

“Thank you . . .” I whispered. “Thank you so much . . .”

“Sleep, Lita. Heal. You’re safe. You’re finally safe . . .”

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OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Sixteen

Tanner

I was pulled to my feet by Kenny and Lars. These fuckers wouldn’t have
dared even look at me when I was in the Klan. Now, they were dragging me

to stand after beating the shit out of me for hours.

I stood fucking tall. I wouldn’t let these assholes see me weakened. They

walked me down a hallway. Kenny hammered on a door. I didn’t know who

the fuck was beyond it. I’d been met at the border by these two assholes and

taken to some camp in the middle of nowhere. Last night, I was put in a
truck and brought here—wherever this was. I hadn’t once seen my father or

uncle. I hadn’t seen Wade . . . and I hadn’t seen Beau.

“Come in,” someone called, and I immediately recognized my father’s

voice.

This was it.

This was fucking it.

My father wasn’t gonna let me go. I’d expected to feel more. I’d expected

to want to fight. To fucking survive. But Adelita was gone . . . I didn’t give

a fuck what these assholes did to me now.

They couldn’t kill an already dead man.

 Kenny opened the door, and I was thrown inside. I quickly righted myself,

refusing to fall at their feet. My hands were tied behind my back. The door

shut, and I lifted my head. Across the room, I saw them. My father, in his

usual suit—all business and politics. Landry, snarling my way . . . and

Beau. Beau was staring at me with no fucking expression on his face at all.
Wade was present too. Wade, who had been my contact all this time, was

sitting in the corner. He was glaring at me. Playing the perfect little Nazi in

front of my father, uncle, and Beau.

“Tanner,” my father said and got to his feet. He came toward me. The

second he stood before me he punched me square across the face. My head

snapped back. But I made damn fucking sure my feet didn’t move. I

wouldn’t give this prick the pleasure of bettering me.

“Father,” I replied, the taste of blood coming from my busted lip. We’d

been here many times before.

“So. All this?” he mocked, pointing to my cut. “All this for a fucking

spic?” My teeth gritted together as that word left his mouth.

I stepped closer to him. Close enough that my boots touched the toe of his
expensive shoes. “You speak about Adelita like that again, and I’ll kill

you.”

My father’s mouth twitched. Landry got up and came round the table they

sat behind. The asshole just plowed his fist into my stomach, then my face.
 He kept going until my father pulled him back. “Patience,” my father said

to him.

I glared across the table at Beau. “You next?”

Beau, as silent as always, actually got to his feet. Dressed in black, his

brown hair falling over his face, he came toward us. He stopped in front of

me with his arms folded across his chest. My fucking kid brother, the one
who never left my side, was gonna be here as I died. As our uncle and

father killed me.

Wade got up too. “Wade,” I said coldly, like the guy wasn’t on my side. I

had to protect him.

“Shut your fucking mouth, traitor,” he snapped. His face was red as he

spat at me, and his hands were balled into fists at his side. He was doing a

good fucking good job at pretending he was pissed.

“Untie him,” my father ordered my brother. Beau moved behind me and

cut the cable tie that was holding my hands together. I fisted my hands,

ready. My uncle and father stepped back. When Wade joined them, not a
fucking flicker of allegiance in his eyes, I waited. Beau moved beside them.

The four of them were glaring my way. I eyed my little brother one last

time. How the fuck had it come to this?

“Get against the wall,” my father ordered.

 I did as he said and backed up four steps until my back hit the wall. Beau,

Landry, Wade, and my father all raised their guns.

A fucking shooting wall. An execution. I wouldn’t close my eyes. I would

watch them until I was dragged to fucking hell.

“You always were a fucking pussy,” my father said. “You were never the

solider your people needed you to be. From being a kid, always questioning

shit and being a sniffling lil’ disappointment.”

My old man clicked the safety off his gun. Just as he went to fire, Beau

jumped out of line and fired two perfectly aimed shots . . . right through

Wade and Landry’s heads. In seconds, he’d knocked the gun from my

father’s hands. It went sailing across the floor, well out of reach.

My heart started to quicken. “What the fuck?” my father snapped at Beau.

My eyes dropped to Landry and Wade, dead on the floor, their eyes wide

open. Kenny and Lars came smashing through the door. Beau turned and

sent them to the boatman too.

Beau came to stand beside me. I stared at my kid brother as he faced our

old man. “If I have to listen to one more fucking white-power chant, see

one more Nazi salute, or attend one more fucking rally, I’ll slaughter every

one of y’all.”

Our father’s face drained of blood. Then it quickly reddened. “You—” He

went to hit Beau, but I grabbed his hand and threw the fucker back. His
eyes stared daggers at us both. “You planned this,” he hissed at Beau.

Beau smirked. “All of it.” I looked at my little brother in shock. He

glanced between me and our old man, his eyes finally staying on me. “I

pretended to be Wade. I needed you to think I was all in to this Nazi shit.”

“You weren’t?” I asked, my throat fucking getting thicker by the second.

I’d thought he was all in . . . I thought he hated me . . . I thought he was

Klan through and through . . .

“Never was. You knew that.”

“I did . . . but then I assumed I was wrong when I left and you took over

the leadership. You were quiet when we were kids. Thought I’d got you
wrong all these years. That you did believe it after all.”

Beau shook his head. “I never wanted this life. Fucking hated all of it.

Every fucking day under that cunt’s rules.” He nudged his head toward our

old man.

“Why did you stay? Why the fuck didn’t you leave too?”

Beau paused, then quietly said, “You.” His arms folded over his chest. I

knew this Beau. The one who never gave anything away. My baby brother

never spoke much, never opened up. Ever. Crossing his arms over his

chest? That was him protecting himself from whatever truth he was about to

spill. I wanted to fucking pull him to my chest. Protect him like I always

did. But I knew he needed to say whatever it was he needed to say.

 Beau flicked his chin in the direction of our old man. “He ain’t my fucking

family.” He pointed at Landry. “Neither was that redneck prick.” Beau

looked at me. “You were, Tann. You were my only fucking family . . . and

then you left me behind.”

“I wanted Adelita. I couldn’t be in the Klan life and have her.” I shook my

head. “You were away with the army. And I didn’t believe in that shit

anymore. Realized it was all bull. I got my chance to leave, through Tank.

So I took it. You never came and looked for me after you got out. I figured

you were done with me along with these cunts.”

“You fucking left me behind,” Beau snapped, anger lacing his voice. My

stomach sank. I hadn’t known . . . if I did, I never would have left.

“But you’ve been leading the Klan. Training the soldiers. You sure as shit

acted like you were still an all-in Nazi.”

“Had to look the part.” I couldn’t get it through my fucking head. I

couldn’t fucking think. I eyed my father beneath my foot. He looked about

ready to combust as he listened to Beau. Fucking stock still as Beau told me

it all. “I had to get us in a position where I could take them down. Destroy

them before they destroyed you.”

“What?”

“They were always gonna kill you, Tann. You were a betrayer of your

race. The cause. The great invisible fucking empire. They were never gonna
let you live . . . they were gonna wipe out the Hangmen. You seem happy

there. So I had to figure out a way to take the Klan down from inside before

they could.” He shrugged. “Had to make you believe I was all in so nothing

could go fucking wrong. Needed you to believe I wanted to kill you too . . .

I needed you to believe that you had nothing left.”

“You little shit!” our papa hissed. He rushed at Beau, but I smashed my

fist into his face before he even got close. The asshole dropped to the floor.

I watched him crawling on the ground, and all I felt was disgust. He was a
weak-as-piss asshole. Always fucking had been. He abused the fuck out of

us as kids, paid some bitch to give birth to us so he could raise his fucking
white-power heirs. He was as pathetic as they came.

Our old man held his nose, blood seeping onto his expensive suit. I stood
beside him, putting my foot on his back to make sure he didn’t move.

Beau didn’t even acknowledge him. “I needed everyone down here. In one
place. Needed you here too.”

“I came because they killed her. Diego fucking killed her.” Beau rocked on
his feet. Then his words from before sunk in . . . I needed you to believe you

had nothing left . . . “Diego killed her, right? Adelita . . .

I fucking cleared my thick throat. “She’s gone?” I didn’t wanna fucking
hope. Didn’t wanna give myself any hope she was still alive. I didn’t—
 “She’s alive.” Beau interrupted my thoughts. My heart started hammering.
My ears filled with a fucking pulsating roar.

“What?”
“The last time I checked, she was alive.”

“You . . . you fucking told me she was dead!” I had to fight the urge to hurt
him.

“I had to! I had to get you here. Had to stop them from coming for you. I
knew if you thought she was dead, it would happen.” Rage. I felt nothing
but rage. But when I looked at Beau, I saw the truth in his eyes. And he was

right. I came here because I had nothing to lose. The Klan and cartel were
here to plan an attack on the Hangmen . . . Beau had prevented it all.

Kicking my old man, I walked to Beau and fucking pulled him to my

chest. I kissed him on the head, feeling him lose the tension in his always

tense body. It was just like when we were kids . . . Beau and me.
All we ever had was each other.

I suddenly felt the cold barrel of a gun on the back of my head. I froze. So
did Beau. “Well isn’t this a nice fucking reunion?” my father’s voice said

coldly. I pushed Beau away from me.

I opened my mouth to speak, when the door burst open and a voice said,

“Governor fucking Ayers!” The gun immediately left my head. I turned to

see Ky Willis pointing his Uzi at my father. Styx came in next, followed by
my chapter. Tank was through after Styx, and his eyes fixed on mine. I saw
the relief on his face—I was fucking alive.

Ky looked down at my uncle, then Wade, Kenny, and Lars dead on the
ground. “Looks like we missed the fucking party.” My father, for once,

looked nervous. All my brothers had their guns trained on him . . . my

fucking brothers were here.

“Been a while, Gov,” Ky said, and he sat on the edge of the table.
My father backed up until he was against the far wall. “You can’t kill me,”

he said. “I’m a governor. People will question where I am.” The fucker
smiled. “And I have insurance in place if I do.” By the smug look on his

face, that insurance involved me, the Hangmen, or both.

Ky nodded, then took out his cell. He snapped a few pictures. It only took

me a second to see what my old man was in front of—Nazi and white-
power flags on the wall. Ky gave him a wide grin. “For our insurance.” He

got up from the table. “Sure your constituents would love to know you
don’t go to sleep at night without wanking off to German porn and
screaming Heil Hitler when you come.”

“You piece of shit—”

“Think you’ll find that’s you,” Tank snapped, and he moved beside me. I

saw his eyes darken when they landed on Beau. I stood in front of my
brother. Not one of these men—including Tank—was touching him.
 Styx whistled, and signed for Vike to open the door. “Go,” he signed to my

father. Ky gave the order. Styx smirked. My old man edged to the door.
Styx stood in his way the minute he was almost free.

“Valdez has the cartel.” My father’s face fell when Ky spoke Styx’s words
aloud. Styx stepped closer and closer still. “And you have no men left.” My

eyes widened when he said that. My fucking pulse kicked into a fast sprint.
“We killed them all . . . every last one.” Styx just glared at my father,
silently. Then, “You’re on your own.” Styx glanced down to my uncle and

the other three dead men. “You have no one left . . . Governor.”
Styx moved aside, and my father glared at me and Beau. “You’re gonna

regret this. One day you’ll fucking regret this.” Then he was gone. I didn’t
know how he would get back to Texas without any men. But I didn’t

fucking care. He was gone.

Ky faced me and Beau and pointed his gun at my brother. “Now, time for

this fucker to go to the boatman.”

I shoved Beau behind me. “No,” I hissed. “It was Beau all along,” I said,

and saw Tank watching me. “The contact . . . it was Beau. He was taking
the Klan down from the inside . . .” I told them what Beau had told me. All

of it. Every fucking thing.

“That true, Beau?” Tank asked.
 Beau pushed me to the side so he could be seen. “I’m good, Tann.” Facing

my brothers, he said, “It’s true. All of it. They were coming for y’all.
Wasn’t gonna let that happen. They weren’t getting to Tanner.”

“No one’s fucking touching him,” I said, and meant every damn word.
“Believe him or not. It’s true. But no fucker here is gonna lay a damn finger

on him or we’ll have trouble.”

Ky and Styx looked to each other. Ky shrugged. “Then it looks like we

owe mini Ayers a motherfucking drink.” I exhaled a breath I didn’t even

know I was holding. Tank came over and slapped Beau on the back. As

always, my brother didn’t react. Forever in his own head. Silent and giving
nothing away. But I could tell by his eyes he was relieved.

“You really took out the Klan?” I asked Styx. He nodded. “And Valdez
really took the Quintana cartel?” He nodded again . . . “Adelita?” I held my

breath.
“Wasn’t there when they raided. She got out somehow,” Ky said. He
looked to Styx, a strange expression on his face.

“What?” Tension filled the room. “What?”

Ky came toward me. “Turns out your bitch was always Hangmen

property.” I frowned, confused, when he added, “Quintana wasn’t her old

man. Not by blood. His wife wasn’t her mother.”

I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. “Then who was?”
 Ky pointed at Styx. “Styx’s mama.” Ky slammed his hand down on my
shoulder. “Styx here just learned he’s got a sister . . .” Ky let the sentence

go. “Adelita.”
My fucking head pounded. But when I met Styx’s eyes, I knew it was true.
“Where is she?”

“We’ll find her,” Styx signed.

“We’ve taken the Klan’s camp. We’re using it as our base.”

Vike and Rudge led the way out of the safe house, when one face suddenly
entered my head and I asked, “Diego? Valdez get him too?”

“He fled,” Tank answered. “Valdez is on it. He won’t be alive for long.
Valdez has all his men out looking for him. He won’t make it to dawn.

Fucking dead man walking.” I wanted to kill him. I wanted to be the one
who watched that fucker die. “We’ll get her back, Tann. I fucking promise.”

My mind immediately went back to Adelita.

I was gonna find her.

She was out there, somewhere.

And we were alive . . . everything we ever fucking wanted.

*****

“You good?” I asked Beau. Beau lay back on the bed.

 Beau nodded, closed his eyes, and I knew that was him closing himself
off. I waited until he was asleep before I ducked out of the room. My

fucking head was still spinning from everything that had happened. My
brothers, along with the Diablos and the other Hangmen chapters, were all

outside. Some on patrol, others beside fires, celebrating the win. The bodies
had all been moved before we got back. Valdez sent some contact he had to

collect them—black-market shit I was sure.

I’d just sat down beside Tank when a black car pulled into the camp. I got

to my feet and fell behind Styx and Ky.

“Valdez’s car,” Ky said. Still, my brothers were all armed up.

The driver got out of the car like hundreds of guns weren’t aimed at him.
He came toward us. “Tanner Ayers?” he said, his Mexican accent thick.

My eyes narrowed, but I flicked my chin. The driver handed me a piece of

paper. “Adela Quintana has been found.” I looked down at the paper. It had
a number written on it. “You’re to call this number. We got instructions that
it must only be you. You need to personally arrange where to pick her up.”

The driver walked to the car and drove away. I didn’t fucking wait. I
hightailed it to the headquarters where the phones were. I dialed the
number. After three rings, a voice asked, “Tanner?”
It took me a minute to recognize the voice. “Father Reyes?” I’d met him a

few times when I was at Adelita’s hacienda.

 “She’s with me. She’s safe.” All the tension I’d been holding onto melted
the fuck away and nothing but relief set in my bones. “She’s hurt, Tanner.”

In a second, that relief faded. “Lita is okay. But Diego . . . he hurt her. Beat
her. I found her on the floor in her bedroom, barely conscious. I’ve cleaned
her up and brought her to a remote chapel. No one knows where we are.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and fought back the rage that was building inside
me. “I’m coming for her,” I announced. “I—” I stopped speaking and

looked out of the window. My brothers were waiting for me outside. Styx
kept looking my way. I still couldn’t get my fucking head around the fact
Adelita—my Adelita—was Styx’s and Chavez’s sister. “Can she walk,
Luis?”

“Yes. She’s bruised and tired, but otherwise she’s well. Nothing is
broken.”
“Can she talk?”
“Yes. She’s not with me now. I didn’t want this call to be traced. But

Tanner, she’s well, I promise. Bruised, hurting, but she’s tough. She’s
always been a fighter.” My throat fucking clogged, and I nodded my head
as a fucking grunt of agreement left my mouth. “She is.” My voice was
gravel, fucking eyes stinging. “She’s always been a fighter. Right from the

very first moment I met her.” I took a fucking second to breathe. “Father
Reyes, listen to me . . .” I spoke to the priest and made the plan. When I
hung up, I walked outside to my chapter. “We get her tomorrow. Her friend
saved her. I know him. And I know where to go.”

“Where?”
“A remote chapel. I’ve been given the directions. Luis knows where this
camp is. Luis’s a priest. Her priest.” I told my brothers where the church
was. “We’ll get her at dawn.” Styx nodded. “I’m gonna hit the hay,” I said.

I could see Tank’s suspicious expression. His eyes were narrowed on me.
He knew something was up. That’s why I had to get to my room. I needed
this night. Just this one fucking night with her on my own. Shit, I only
needed a couple of hours.

Beau lifted his head when I opened the door. “I know where she is.” Beau
nodded. I kept trying to read him to see if he had a problem with me being
engaged to a Mexican. Klan ideology was hard to shake. But there was
nothing in Beau’s face but acceptance.
“When you getting her back?”

I didn’t wanna lie to my brother, so I just said, “Soon.”

I lay down on the other small bed and knocked off the light. I stared at the
ceiling, the darkness wrapping around me. And I waited. I waited until
Beau’s breathing had evened out. And I waited until the sound of my

brothers talking outside died down.

 Checking the time, I quietly got off the bed and sneaked out the door.

Most of the brothers hadn’t made it to their beds. They were passed out
drunk or exhausted on the ground. Using my experience from my years in
the army, I moved silently in the dark. Around the building and into the
surrounding forest. I cut through the trees until I arrived at the village
nearby.

Moving to the nearest car, I smashed the window and opened the door.
Once it was hotwired, I pulled out onto the road. I hit the lights in case
anyone saw me. And the closer I got to the chapel Luis told me to meet him
at, my heart fucking pounded.

The sky was starting to lighten. Dawn would break in a couple of hours.
That was enough time. The minute I saw the small chapel, nothing else
around for miles, I pulled the car to a stop around back. I stared at the old
bricks that looked like they’d fall if touched. The stained-glass windows

barely gripped their rotting wooden frames.

Inside, I saw candles. I ran my hands down my face and got the fuck out
the car. Moving to the small blue side door Luis had told me enter from, I
knocked twice. It took less than ten seconds for it to open. I ducked inside

and looked around. The room was small, wooden pews occupying most of
the stone floor. A large crucifix hung on the main wall. Candles were lit on
their stands—the only light in the entire place.
 “She okay?” I asked, my voice echoing round the old room.

Luis smiled. “More than.” My pulse slammed in my neck. Luis sighed,

smile fading. “I never thought we’d get here, Tanner. I never thought this
day would come.”
“I never gave up hope.”

“Nor did she.”

A young guy came through a door to the side of the chapel. I went to draw
my gun, but Luis put his hand over mine and said, “He’s my trainee priest.
He’s safe.”

Then Luis looked behind me, and I fucking froze. I knew Adelita was
there. I could fucking sense her. Luis smiled at her. We were in front of the
altar. The priest-in-training moved to the piano. He started to play some
song I couldn’t name.
Then I heard Lita walking toward me. I heard her feet padding on the

stone floor . . . getting closer and closer. My head spun. My heart beat fast.
We were here. We were fucking here. After years . . . we were here.
I smelled her rose scent behind me and closed my eyes. I thought back to
meeting her that day in Mexico. Of how she stood up to me when I looked

down on her. When she broke through my fucking defenses . . . when she
came to me when my old man had hit me. And how she made me lose the
hate that ran as thick as tar in my veins. She made me change . . . she made

me love her.
And by some fucking miracle, she loved me too.
Seconds later, she was beside me. I could feel her warmth to my right. I
breathed a deep breath . . . then opened my eyes. My head turned straight to

her, like she was a magnet I couldn’t help but be drawn to. Her head was
bowed, her dark hair covering her face. But I saw her dress. A purple silk
dress. I fucking loved her in purple. Always had. The light was low, the
candles not giving off much light. But I tensed when I saw the bruises on

her bare arms . . . when I saw dried blood on her dress.

Adelita lifted her head and showed her face. I almost lost my shit when I
saw her black and swollen eyes. When I saw her cheeks were scratched.
Her lips had been split.

“Lita . . .” I whispered and moved my finger softly down her injured face.
Adelita’s eyes filled with tears. She caught my hand, then did the same to
me.
“They beat you too . . .” she whispered.

I fought the lump in my throat. “I thought you were dead.”

Adelita’s lip trembled. “No . . .” She smiled. “It seems like God wanted us
together after all, Tanner Ayers. It seems we were destined to be.”
“I love you,” I rasped and cupped her face, careful not to hurt her.
 “Ti amo, mi amor.”
As I stared at her, it was like I’d never seen her before. I’d thought her
dead. I’d believed she was gone. But she was here, a fucking miracle. She
was beside me . . . telling my unworthy ass that she loved me.

She fucking loved me.

She was marrying me.
Luis cleared his throat. He held a Bible in his hand. “I never thought we’d
be here today.” He spoke in English, clearly for my sake. Luis shook his

head. “When you fell in love, I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it.” Luis
looked at me, then Adelita. “The White Prince and the cartel princess. It
made no sense. Two people, who were never meant to be, found in the other
their soulmate. The half of their heart that had yet to be claimed.”
Luis’s eyes watered as they landed on Lita. “I have married many people.

Yet I don’t think I have ever rejoiced in a union more than this . . . more
than yours.” He cleared his throat again. “You deserve one another. You’ve
fought harder than anyone I have ever met. God will reward that. Has
rewarded that. Right here, right now, is your reward.”

I squeezed Adelita’s hand. It was shaking. But I knew it wasn’t from

nerves. It was from happiness . . . because I was feeling it too.
Luis read from the Bible. I didn’t hear it. Just stared at Adelita. She had no
makeup on. She always wore makeup. But she was perfect without it. Even
with bruises and cuts and wounds, she was the most beautiful bitch I’d ever
seen.
“And now your vows.”
I faced Adelita and took hold of both her hands. “Lita . . .” I rasped, my

heart echoing in my chest. “I’m not good with words.” I shook my head, not
knowing what the fuck to say. Adelita squeezed my hands. I looked into her
eyes. She nodded her encouragement, silently telling me to try. So I fucking
tried. “You changed me, baby,” I said. “Everything. The minute I met you,

you changed everything for me. I never knew anyone who was kind. You
showed me that. I never knew anyone who was loyal. You showed me that
too.” I took a deep breath. “I never knew anyone who fought so hard when
they loved someone.” I dropped my forehead against Adelita’s. “You gave

me a home, princess. You gave me a family when I barely knew what that
was. And after this, I’m never leaving your side again. Not until I’m
dead . . . and even then, I’ll take on Hades himself to get back to you.”
Tears poured down Adelita’s cheeks. I wanted to wipe them away, but she

held on tightly to my hands. “Tanner . . .” she whispered and closed her

eyes. She took a deep breath. “I love you. I love you more than I ever
dreamed I could love another person.” Adelita smiled. “You challenged me
when we first met. You challenge me still. But when I first met you . . . I
felt something in my soul shift. I didn’t know what that shift was. I believed
it to be hatred. But the more I got to know you . . . when I saw the cracks
appear in the heavy armor you wear like a shield, I realized it was more.”
Adelita’s thumb ran over the back of my hand. She met my eyes. “My heart

was kindling. You were the naked flame that caused it to ignite.” I
swallowed at her words. “I’ll never leave you again. I’ll never walk in this
life without you by my side. I’ll follow you anywhere you go. My hand in
yours.” Her head bowed. “You claim I fought hard for us. But Tanner, you
fought harder. So much harder.” She lifted her eyes. “Without you, we

wouldn’t be here right now.” She laughed through her tears. “Free, mi amor.
Free and able to love without punishment. Our dream come true.”
I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to take her mouth right then. But Luis
handed me a ring before I could. It was just a plain gold band. “Repeat after

me,” Luis said.

“I, Tanner Ayers, take Adela Quintana to be my lawfully wedded wife.” I
repeated all of what Luis instructed, and then slid Adelita’s ring on her
finger. I couldn’t look away. She was mine. That ring on her finger told the

world she was mine.

“Adelita, repeat after me.” Luis guided Adelita through the words, then
she slid the ring onto my finger.
I didn’t look away from that fucking ring, until Luis said, “And by the

power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” I took in a
long breath. Then I released Adelita’s hands. Cupping her cheeks, careful
that I didn’t hurt her bruises, I kissed her.
When I pulled back, I pressed my forehead to hers and just breathed.

There was no sound but the candle wicks burning. Only silence . . . until the
deafening sound of a gunshot thundered around the chapel. Adelita’s body
suddenly tensed and her eyes widened. I staggered back when she went
limp in my arms, her lips parting like she was struggling to breathe. I didn’t

even get a chance to turn around, to see who was there, when another shot
rang out. Red-hot pain immediately shot through my side. Trying to keep
hold of Adelita, I slumped to the ground, taking her with me, when my legs
gave out. Another shot fired, and Father Reyes hit the floor. Another shot;

the priest-in-training dropped. I managed to look up and saw Diego Medina.

His eyes were bloodshot, and he had his gun aimed back at Adelita.
Lifting my numbing hand into my jeans, I pulled out my gun and, even
with fading strength, lifted my torso from the floor and fired a single shot

his way. The bullet sailed through Diego’s neck, but not before his gun went
off again too, firing a bullet into my chest. The shot knocked me back onto
the floor. I blinked, I tried to fucking blink, but the world began to blur. My
heartbeat was too slow, my blood as thick as tar. Everything was moving
too fucking slow!
 My mind fogged with confusion. I tried to think why I was here . . . where
I was . . . then I saw her. I saw the purple dress . . . I saw her arm stretched

out toward me. I recognized her immediately. My wife. I would always

recognize my wife. “Lita . . .” I whispered and started to crawl toward her.
Pain fucking stabbed in my side and chest, numbness sweeping through my
limbs. But I had to get to her. “Lita . . .” I said again. Her eyes were closed,
and there was blood pooling beneath her.

Reaching out, I took hold of her left hand. I gripped it as my eyes started
to close. I felt her wedding ring on her finger. And I held on tight. Held on
even though I couldn’t feel a single part of my body anymore . . . until my
eyes closed.

Until, together, we sank into darkness.

OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Seventeen

Adelita

I was thirsty. I tried to swallow but my throat hardly worked. “Lita?” A

female voice called my name. I opened my eyes, but the light was too

bright. I flinched, and panic started to set in. A hand slipped into mine—it
was a comfort. I felt weak. I could barely lift my arms. “Shh, everything’s

okay, darlin’. You’re safe. Y’all are safe.”

My brain was foggy. I tried to remember. I thought about what had

happened. There’d been a chapel . . . candles . . . a stone floor . . . I hitched

a breath when I remembered Tanner. Walking toward Tanner, his strong

body waiting for me in front of the altar. His blue eyes, misty with tears . . .

rings . . . two wedding rings . . .

Then gunshots.

Pain.

Fear.
My eyes opened, and I flinched as daylight pierced through my skull. My

heart was racing too fast. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t . . . “Tann . . .” I

tried to speak. Tears built in my eyes. “Tann . . . er?”

 “It’s okay, darlin’. You’re okay. You’re safe.” My blurred vision cleared

enough that I saw Beauty. Beauty was beside me. She was the one holding

my hand. “You’re okay, darlin’. Try to keep calm.”

But I couldn’t. All I could hear were gunshots echoing around my head . . .

see Tanner falling to the stone floor . . . his determined face as he fought to
crawl toward me . . . then nothing. “Tanner?’ I pushed out through a raw

throat. “I . . . need . . . Tanner . . .”

“He’s here, darlin’. He’s alive. Look.” Beauty pointed to my left. I rolled

my heavy head in that direction. Tanner was in a bed beside me. I wanted to

reach out and touch him, but he was too far away. That’s where my relief
ended. His eyes were closed. His naked torso was covered in bandages.

He wore an oxygen mask and sported an IV, attached to his hand. My lip

wobbled, concern and sadness consuming me. “Tanner . . .” I tried to move

to get to him, but a red-hot slice of pain cut through me. I gasped and held

my side. I felt bandages there too.

“Don’t move, darlin’,” Beauty said, and gently guided me to lie back

down. But I couldn’t keep my eyes off Tanner. He’s here, I told myself. He’s
alive.

Beauty must have seen that I needed an explanation by my lost expression.

“He looks worse than he is. He’s healing. I swear. You’ve both been out of

it for a couple of days. It took Edge some time to get y’all transport home.”
I frowned. I didn’t understand. Transport? “Styx wasn’t gonna leave y’all in

Mexico, or even with the Diablos. He wasn’t gonna risk it in case anyone

had escaped from either the Klan or cartel and were tracking y’all down.

Prez paid a shit-ton of money—under the table, of course—to get you both

medically transported.”

He did? Why? Why did he care so much?

“What . . . happened?”

Beauty sat on the edge of the bed. “Tanner came to that chapel to marry

you, darlin’.” I glanced to my left hand and saw the ring there. Images of

candles flickering on an altar filtered into my head. Of vows and Luis . . .

“Luis?” I asked, panicked.

“He’s here.”

“He’s here?” I asked in shock. Beauty handed me a glass of water for my

hoarse voice. I sipped it down, the rawness ebbing some.

“He was shot too. But only in the shoulder. He hit his head when he fell

and was knocked out cold. The bullet went straight through.” Beauty
smiled. “Styx brought him back too. Luis was kinda refusing to leave y’all.”

I smiled at that. Luis was such a good friend. So caring. A true man of God.

“The young priest who was there as witness survived too. He was escorted

home by Valdez’s men after he was patched up in Mexico.” I breathed a

sigh of relief.
 My smile dropped when I asked, “It was Diego?”

Beauty’s nodded. “Yeah.” She looked around as if checking for anyone

listening. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this. Club business and
all. That, and I was eavesdropping.” She smirked. “But fuck it. You deserve

to know.” She squeezed my hand. “Valdez’s men were on Diego’s tail.

Asshole must’ve known he was on borrowed time. Apparently he saw Luis

leave the hacienda with you, but in the takeover, he couldn’t get to y’all. So

he followed y’all to a remote chapel. Luis contacted Tann through Valdez.

Valdez had men watching the chapel. Diego was hiding. When Tanner

arrived at the chapel, he flipped his shit.”

“Is . . . is he dead?”

“Yeah, darlin’,” Beauty confirmed. “Tanner shot him through the neck.

But not before he shot y’all.” I glanced across at Tanner. I loved him so

much. All he ever did was protect me. I needed him to wake up. I needed to

see his blue eyes and hear his voice.

“Tank, Beau, Styx ,and Ky found y’all.”

I turned back to Beauty. “Beau? Beau Ayers?”

Beauty smiled. “Tanner has a lot to explain to you . . .” She trailed off, her

expression changing to something I couldn’t read. But before I had time to

question her on anything, she continued. “Tanner left early. We now know it
was so Luis could marry y’all before the rest of the Hangmen arrived. Tank
had suspected he was gonna try to get to you without telling anyone. When

he checked on his room in the camp, and Tann wasn’t there, he woke Beau,

Styx and Ky and came straight to the chapel. They arrived not long after

y’all had been shot.” Her face suddenly looked angry. “Diego paid off the

men watching the chapel. Valdez caught his men only a few miles away.”

Beauty smiled a cold smile I never expected her to wear. “Killed them for

their betrayal.”

“So . . . it’s over?” I asked, trying not get my hopes up.

Beauty kissed my head. “It’s over, sweetie. You’re both finally free.” A

big smile took over her face. “And y’all are fucking married! Once you’re
both better, that calls for a fucking party.”

I laughed; Beauty’s happiness was infectious. But when I did, pain sliced

through my side. I sucked in a sharp breath. “Sleep, darlin’,” Beauty said.

“Tanner should wake soon.”

Her words were like a command to my heavy eyelids, and they began to

close. I next woke to the sound of low voices. When my eyes fluttered

open, I saw Beauty talking to Styx and Mae. Mae noticed I was awake first.

I cast a quick glance to Tanner, but he was still asleep.

“Adelita.” Mae’s voice was filled with relief and affection. She came

toward me, Charon in a baby sling on her chest. I saw his little eyes were

closed.
 “Hello, Mae,” I greeted, and tried to move.

“No. Please do not.” Mae reached for my hand. When I looked up at her in

surprise, she was staring at me with tears in her eyes. I frowned, wondering

what was wrong. “You are safe here, Adelita. We promise. No one will hurt

you ever again.” Mae looked behind her. “Will they, Styx?”

I looked at the Hangmen president. His hazel eyes were locked on me. All

I felt was confusion. What was happening? Why were they here? Why did

he pay so much money for us to be brought here to Austin?

Nothing made sense.

Styx nodded in response to his wife’s words. His arms were crossed over

his chest. And I couldn’t even begin to decipher what his expression was.

Why was staring so intently at me?

“We will let you rest,” Mae said, pulling my attention back to her. “We

wanted to check on you.” Mae kissed my head. “We will talk soon. When

you have healed. When Tanner is well and you are stronger.” Unease swept

through me.

Talk about what?

Mae joined her husband, and they went to leave. “He . . .” I cleared my
throat. It caused Mae and Styx to pause and look back at me. “Tanner . . . he

loves this club.” I cast my eyes to my husband. “He . . .” I chased away the

lump that was building in my throat. “He has had a hard life . . . a loveless
life.” My voice quivered with sadness, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want them

to doubt Tanner’s allegiance for this club. “But he has found a home here,

amongst you all.” I smiled. “He is a protector. That’s what he does. He

protected me. He came to Mexico to protect you. He is a man you want in

this brotherhood. He is loyal and brave, and I hope you see it.”

Styx’s face was neutral as he listened to me. Mae turned to her husband,

some silent communication occurring between them. Styx lifted his hands.

“Y’all aren’t going anywhere.” Mae spoke Styx’s words. His hands froze, a
pause. Then he signed, “Y’all are family.” Styx dropped his hands and

walked out of the door. With a small wave, Mae followed her husband.
I exhaled in relief. He wanted Tanner here. He wanted us here. But as I lay

in my bed, I couldn’t get the visit from Styx and Mae from my head. It
seemed more than a simple check-in.

But I couldn’t think of any reason why.

Beauty left for the night to get herself some rest. When the door was shut,

I stared across at Tanner. He still wasn’t awake. But I needed him. I needed
to touch him, to feel his warmth. Pulling off the comforter, I held my side as

I lowered my feet to the floor. I was wearing a nightdress. Beauty must

have brought it for me. I smiled. It was purple and silk. It reminded me of
what I married Tanner in. Knowing Beauty, it would have been why she

picked it.
 Taking a deep breath, I moved, using the bed frame for support. I walked
across the small space between me and Tanner. When I arrived at his side, I

ran my hand through his hair. My chest ached as I looked down at Tanner’s
wounds. I could have lost him . . . I could have lost the love of my life . . .

my husband . . . my soul’s other half.

Careful of the IV, and ignoring the pain in my side, I crawled onto the bed

and slipped under the sheets. Tanner’s torso was bare. He only wore track
pants.
The minute I was beside him, my bruised heart instantly healed. I laid my

arm over his waist and absorbed his warmth. Lowering my head to the
pillow, I kissed his stubbled cheek. “I love you, mi amor,” I whispered and

breathed in his smoky, leather smell.

Even the sterile ointment on his wounds couldn’t take away his addictive

scent. I held his left hand and ran my thumb over the wedding ring. I smiled
at the sight . . . then Tanner’s hand twitched. I stilled, waiting, breath

held . . . waiting for more . . . Tanner’s fingers moved. I sat up, and stared at
his face. Tanner’s eyebrows pulled down, his tongue traced his lips . . .

finally, his eyes cracked open.

I couldn’t help it. A sob left my throat as he blinked, revealing to me the

bright blue eyes I adored so much. They were dazed at first. The confusion
he felt was obvious by his lost expression. I kissed his cheek, his nose, then
his lips. “Tanner,” I whispered, happy tears trickling down my cheeks. It
took Tanner only a moment to kiss me back. His hand came up to the back

of my head. I heard him hitch a breath and realized the movement must
have caused him pain.

I tried to pull back, but he kept me in place. “No . . .” he whispered against

my lips. “Stay.”

My heart melted.
I kissed him softly, trying to pour everything I was feeling into the touch

—love, gratitude, pride, and adoration. All of it, every emotion that had
ever coursed through my soul in my years with him. In our fight to be

together.
I tried to communicate it all.

I reared back and looked at his face. There was no confusion, anymore.
“We’re . . . alive . . .” he rasped. My heart cracked when, with shining eyes,

he smiled. “We’re alive . . .” He said the words with such relief, such awe—
a whispered benediction from his lips.
“Yes,” I cried, laughing, letting caged joy break through. “We’re alive.” I

kissed him again. I kissed him through fallen salty tears, labored breathing,
and painful injuries. But it didn’t deter us. We were here. Saved.

Saved for the sake of the other.

 Breaking away, I passed Tanner the water from the nightstand. I brought it

to his lips, wincing at the movement.

“You’re hurt,” he said quietly. Then his eyes widened. “Diego . . . he shot

you.” Tanner’s eyes dropped to my side. He tried to reach for me. But I
stopped him by placing my hand on his chest.

“I’m fine.” I ran my hands near his wounds. “You were hurt worse.” I met
his eyes. “You killed Diego.”
Tanner relaxed on the bed, and I could see the relief in his eyes. I settled

back down on his chest. Tanner put his arm around my shoulders. I heard
him hold his breath as he moved. I sank into his side.

The room was silent. I basked in the moment. The silence was the perfect
soundtrack to match my thoughts. At peace. Happy . . . liberated.

In love.
“Baby . . .” Tanner murmured. I smiled as the gravel of his deep voice

vibrated against my ear.

“Mmm?”

“There’s something I have to tell you.” His wary tone made me tense.
“Okay.”

I looked up to his face. Tanner’s eyes fell to meet mine. There was
apprehension in his gaze. But there was sadness too. I braced myself for
whatever it was. “Alfonso . . .” Tanner paused like he didn’t want to say

whatever came next. “He wasn’t your father.”

My heart sank. “I know.” Tanner’s face wore a mask of shock. “I found

out just before Diego killed him.” I swallowed back the sickness of what I’d
discovered. “Tanner . . . they said I was trafficked. That my father got me in

some kind of a trade?” My hands shook. “My mother—Quintana’s wife—

found out . . . and he killed her.” I took a moment to keep my composure.

“He killed her, Tanner.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I have no idea whose
daughter I am. But I know my mother, whoever she is, didn’t want to give

me up.” My stomach tightened, and I fought back the urge to cry for woman
I didn’t know. “They ripped me from her, Tanner . . . I was stolen and given

to my father.”
Tanner held me to his chest. He said, so quietly I almost missed it, “I know

who she was.”

I froze. Every muscle in my body stilled. My breathing increased in pace,
and I slowly lifted my head. Then a single word Tanner said hit a crescendo

in my mind.
Was.

I know who she was.

I couldn’t speak. The swelling of my throat and the fear of hearing more

kept me paralyzed at Tanner’s side. Tanner’s finger ran down my cheek.

“She was from Texas.” My breath shook on an exhale. “Your father was
too.” I hung on every word Tanner said. Every single word. “Sanchez, your

father, was Mexican. Your mother . . .” I glanced down at my arm. At my

skin. My skin that had always been a touch lighter than that of my
friends . . . than that of my father.

I knew what Tanner was going to say before he did. “She was American.
A white American.” I closed my eyes.

“I’m Mexican. I’m a proud Mexican.” All my life, I knew who I was. I
was Mexican. I knew my heritage, cherished it . . . That heritage was now

up in flames.
“You’re still Mexican, princess,” Tanner reassured. “Your father was

Mexican. But you have American in you too.” Tanner leaned forward and
kissed my lips. He hovered close, so I opened my eyes. “Baby . . . this

seems crazy, and I’m still wrapping my fucking head around it myself,
but . . .”

“What, mi amor. What?” I didn’t know if I could take anymore.

“Your mama . . .” He braced himself for whatever he was about to divulge.

“She was Styx’s mama too.” The world stopped. Everything in the room
seemed to freeze as those words filtered into my brain. Styx . . . Styx . . . ? I

thought back to him and Mae being in my room. To Mae holding my hand
and kissing my head. Telling me we needed to talk . . . Y’all are family . . .
 Was. Was Styx’s mama . . .
“She’s dead?” I asked, hopelessly.

“Styx’s papa—the old prez—killed her. He fucking killed her in front of

Styx. He was still a kid at the time.” Tears immediately filled my eyes as I

tried to imagine such a thing.

Looking at Tanner, I said, “I have a brother . . .” I thought back to Styx’s

face. To how he stared like he couldn’t believe I was real. Like he’d never
seen me before . . . and now I understood.

“Has he just found out about me too?”

“Yeah.” Tanner shifted so he could pull me close. “You need to talk to

him, baby. Soon. When you’re better. I know he has something to show
you.” I nodded, because I couldn’t find words. Then Tanner hit me with

another bombshell. “You have another brother too. Your biological father’s
son.” I tried to breathe, to take it all in. “Chavez. The Prez of the Diablos.
They helped us.”
“Chavez . . .” I whispered.

I was silent for so long that Tanner lifted my chin. “You okay, princess?”
“Yes.” And I meant it. I was . . . My head was full to the brim with all the
new events and information. But I was lying beside Tanner. And we were
alive. After all that we had been through, that was enough. I didn’t need
anything else in my life. “I am good, mi amor. I am more than good . . . I
have you.”

Tanner smiled, and then raised my left hand to his lips and kissed my
wedding ring. “My wife . . .” he murmured as his eyes began to close.
Exhaustion was lulling him back to sleep.
“Mi esposo,” I whispered back. I laid my head back on Tanner’s chest and
closed my eyes too. The world could wait. This was my wedding night. Our

deserved night by each other’s side.

And even wounded and emotionally raw . . . it was a perfect kind of bliss.

*****

One week later . . .

“You want me to come with you?” I leaned down and kissed Tanner on the

lips. We were in his room now at the clubhouse. Edge and Rider had
allowed us to move from the medical room a few days ago. Tanner was still
hurting. His injuries were more severe than my own and were taking more
time to heal. He needed to rest.

“I will be fine, mi amor. Sleep and get stronger.”

 “Come straight back. I’ll be waiting for you,” Tanner said, and I ran my
fingers through his hair.

Leaving Tanner to sleep, I met Beauty in the hallway. “You ready,

darlin’?”
“Yes.” Beauty led me to her truck. We didn’t say much as she drove us to
Styx and Mae’s house. Nerves were smothering my senses. I didn’t know

what to say to Styx. He didn’t even speak.

It was all so hard to comprehend. He was my brother . . .
I had always been alone. I didn’t know how to be a sister. I knew nothing
of my mother—our mother—except she was dead.

“He’s a good guy,” Beauty said, clearly seeing my unease. I liked Beauty.
She was turning into a good friend. Tank had been in every day to see
Tanner . . . and me. And Beauty had been forever by his side. “Styx is one
tough motherfucker, I ain’t gonna lie. But he’s a good man.” Beauty paused
as if debating whether to say something. Finally, she did. “His old man was

an asshole. A real fucking prick, Lita. Styx grew up with that bastard, yet
still he’s a good guy.” She smiled at me. “I like to think it was y’all’s mama
who made you both so fucking pure.” A lump built in my throat. “That man
loves Mae something fierce, and you’ll never find a bitch as sweet as her.”

Beauty squeezed my hand as we pulled up to a log cabin. “I know it must

be a real fucking head-spin finding out your man’s prez is your brother, but
give Styx a chance. Ask Sia—Styx knows how to be a good brother if you

let him.”
“Thank you,” I said, quietly.
Movement from the house caught my attention. Mae was on the deck. She
waved when she saw me. I waved back, then took a deep breath. Hands
trembling, I opened the truck door and got out. My side still hurt from my

injury, but I could walk. And I wanted to be here today. I wanted to know
what Styx had to show me.
And I wanted to speak to him. To him and Mae.
I wanted to know my brother.

Mae came and met me, threading her arm through mine. You would never
know she’d just had a baby. She looked perfect, dressed in a flowing white
dress, her black hair cascading down her back . . . beautiful. “Here, let me
help you.” Mae aided me up the stairs to the cabin, and I followed her

through the door.

The home smelled of cookies and bread. “It smells so nice,” I
complimented.
“I baked,” Mae said. “It is not every day we find out Styx has a sister.”

Mae led me into the living room. Styx was in the corner, staring out of the
window. He was dressed in jeans, a white shirt and his Hangmen cut. He
looked so big, so imposing . . . until he turned and my heart melted seeing
him holding baby Charon in his arms. Styx’s hazel eyes met mine, and my

frayed nerves returned.

“Please have a seat,” Mae said and pointed to the couch. I sat down.
“Tea?” she asked, and poured me a cup from a teapot that was on the coffee
table.

“Thank you.” When my tea had been placed before me, Mae went to Styx,
who was standing as still as a statue in the corner of the room. Mae took
Charon from her husband.
She nodded in the direction of the couch opposite mine. Clenching his jaw,

Styx sat down. His gaze stayed on the floor. Mae sat beside him, and he
looked right at her. In an instant, I could see what Beauty meant. The way
he looked at Mae . . . he adored her. It was plain to see. And she was clearly
his strength. Even men as formidable as Styx needed someone to hold them
up.

“He’s so beautiful,” I said, referring to Charon, who was sleeping soundly

in his mother’s arms.
Mae smiled wide. “He is the biggest blessing of my life.” She looked at
Styx. His lip flicked up in the corner. Mae faced me again. “I cannot

imagine how confusing this has all been for you, Adelita.” My chest
tightened, and I fought back the emotions swirling in my chest. Mae took
hold of Styx’s hand. “We had no idea—Styx had no idea—that you even
existed.” Mae nodded at Styx. Styx went to the fireplace and took a leather

book off the mantle. He paused, looking at me, then brought it over. He sat
down next to Mae again. “There are many journals from your mother. But
this is the last one . . .” Mae paused, then said, “This is the one pertaining to
you . . . and everything that happened.”

My heart started beating so fast It made me breathless. I glanced down at

the journal and saw a name engraved on the front. “Lucy Sinclair,” I
whispered. I traced her name with my finger, feeling a connection to that
name so profoundly it was as though a rope was tied around my heart and

was being tugged toward the brown leather journal.

“Your mother’s name—” Mae paused, and took Styx’s hand. “Both your
mother’s name.”
Styx bowed his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. When he lifted it,

he pulled his hand from Mae and started to sign. “Read it,” Mae translated.
Styx pointed at the front door. “There’s a porch swing out there. You need
to read it to understand everything.”
I rose from the seat. I didn’t look back at Styx or Mae, desperately needing

to read my mother’s words. I wanted to know who I was . . . I simply

wanted to know her.
Lucy Sinclair.
 Sitting on the porch swing, my hands unsteady as I turned the page and
began. With every passing minute, a hole caved in my heart. With every
sentence about being pregnant with me, the name she had given me, how
she had held me close every night, alone in a home owned by Sanchez,

rocking me to sleep . . . with my mother’s love for Styx . . . River, her son
who she cherished so much. I fought to breathe. I fought past the
devastation of what someone so young, so kind-hearted, went through at the
mercy of cruel men. When all she ever wanted was a family. Her babies. All

she ever wanted was to be loved and to love with her whole heart.
My daughter . . . my Sofia . . .
I’d been named Sofia.
I paused at the beginning of the next section. Because I knew this was it.
When she discovered where I had gone. Who had betrayed her.

He has given her away. He has given her to a man named Alfonso
Quintana. My baby . . . my Sofia . . . has been taken to Mexico. Where
abouts? I do not know.
Tears flooded my face, and I had to repeatedly wipe my eyes so I could

read.
He said he loved me. Said he was going to lose his club if he didn’t give
her up. He said we could have another baby in her place, to heal my broken
heart. Does he not understand that he has given away my heart?
 I don’t know how to get her back. I need to get her back. I have to think of
something.
Desperation pulsed off the pages. The desperation of a mother who had
lost her two children. A woman who had no idea how to get them back.

I have no choice. I can’t stay with Sanchez. Reaper wants information on

the Diablos. I can give him that, on the condition he helps me get Sofia.
There was a smudge on the page, and I realized that she had been crying. I
ran my finger over the smeared ink. This was my mother’s tears, her

pain . . . and I was here. I had returned. I wanted to tell her “Your Sofia has
come home,” but she would never know . . .
I’ll give Reaper information on the Diablos, provided he promises to help
me with Sofia, and lets me take River. I’ll take them far away from this life.

I’ll take them to the countryside, buy a small farm, where it is just them and
me, and nothing but happiness and love. My son, and my daughter. No pain
or people who want to hurt them.
My dream come true.

My greatest wish in life.

I turned the next page, but there were only empty pages. I flicked and
flicked through them hoping for more, but there were none. Closing the
journal, I held it to my chest and let the tears fall.
 My mother’s dream had not come true; instead it was shattered. She never
got her wish. She never got her small country farmhouse for me and Styx.
She never got any of it. I held the journal to my chest and wept for the

woman who was so young to have dealt with such pain. The mother I had
always yearned for, but never knew. For the life that could have been . . .
peace and smiles and a mother and brother who loved me, and I them.
Someone sat beside me. I lifted my head to see it was Styx. He was sitting
forward, his hands clasped together as he stared out over the forest

surrounding his home.

“He never helped her, did he?” I whispered, referring to his father. Styx
shook his head. “He killed her when she returned?” I saw pain flash across
Styx’s face . . . but he nodded. “Did . . .” I sucked in a breath. “Did she

suffer?” The muscle in Styx’s jaw twitched, then I saw a single tear fall
from his eye and travel down his dark, stubbled cheek. His face never
moved. There was no indication he was even crying, breaking . . . but for
that single telling tear.

That single tear shattered me.

That fallen tear came from the little boy who saw his mama die. It
divulged the racking pain Styx lived with every day.
Reaching across to him, I covered his hand that rested on his knee with my

own. He tensed at first, but then let it be. I hoped that somewhere, wherever
she was, that our mama was looking down at us and smiling. Finally, her
children had found each other.
“It would have been good,” I whispered, staring out at the forest. “The life

she wanted for us.” I smiled, imagining the idyllic scene in my head. Of the
three of us at the small farm, running in the fields, laughing and free. I
squeezed Styx’s hand. “The farm. Us all together.” I looked up at his face.
His skin was red, and he held such sadness and pain in his hazel eyes I

couldn’t bear it. “You and me. Brother and sister.” I sighed. “It would have
been lovely.” I thought of the cards we both had been dealt instead. Styx,
under a father who hurt him; and me, with a father who kept me
imprisoned, and wasn’t even my father at all.

Styx reached into his cut with his free hand and pulled out a photograph.
My pulse raced, looking at the white back of the old picture, wondering
what was on the front.
Styx took a deep breath, then swallowed several times before he opened

his mouth. “I . . .” He paused and closed his eyes. His eyes twitched as
struggled for words. The sight pulled at my heart. He was fighting to speak
to me.
Me.
I knew he only spoke to a couple of people. And here he was, trying to

speak to me.
 “I f-f-found th-this . . . in her th-things.” Styx handed the picture to me. I
took it and slowly turned it over. My soul shattered when staring back at me

was a petite woman with dark hair, smiling widely at the camera . . . with an
infant in her arms. Me, I realized. This was my mama and me.
She was holding me so closely. Her cheek pressed to mine. I was smiling
too. The love held in this picture exuded from the image so strongly, so
surely, no one could doubt how much she adored me. How much it meant to

her, being my mama. I couldn’t breathe to speak . . . I couldn’t pull my eyes

from her face. She was beautiful, so so beautiful.
“I b-b-believed she was . . . a wh-whore who d-d-didn’t . . . want m-me.” I
closed my eyes as Styx’s words hit me. “Sh-she w-wasn’t.” Styx’s voice

was gravel. He turned his head away.

I held his hand tighter. Minutes passed by in contemplative silence. I said,
“We’ve found each other now, Styx.” Styx turned to face me, his expression
unreadable. I smiled, though my lips trembled and my eyes misted with

tears. “I have a big brother.”

Styx didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure if he could. Instead, he pulled me
to his chest and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I didn’t care that
my injury hurt me as he tucked me into his side. My brother was embracing

me. River Nash, president of the Hades Hangmen . . . my big brother.

 We stayed that way on the porch swing for a while, until Styx got to his
feet. I was sure it was a lot for him to deal with all at once. It was

overwhelming for me. “Can I . . .” I asked. “Can I come and see you
sometime? Talk to you more?” I saw Mae with Charon through the window.
“Visit Charon?”
Styx rocked on his feet, and put his hands in his pockets. He nodded, then

his lip kicked up at the side in a flicker of a smile. “H-he’s y-your n-

nephew.”
He was my nephew. I had a nephew.
I laughed with pure happiness. “He is, isn’t he?” Styx nudged his head for

me to follow him to his truck. He was silent as he drove me home. When

the truck stopped, I hugged the journal and the picture to my chest. I would
treasure them my entire life. I went to open the door, but before I did, I
leaned across and kissed Styx’s cheek. “Thank you . . . River.”

Styx nodded, and I climbed out of the truck. He pulled away, and I went to
Tanner’s room—to my husband. Tanner sat up as I came through the door.
He took one look at my face and held out his arms. I immediately climbed
on the bed and fell into his embrace.
And I cried. I cried for the life lost and the dream shattered. And Tanner

never let go through it all. The man who I knew would never fail me, never
stop loving me, always be by my side.
 When my tears had been shed, I silently handed him the picture. Tanner’s

face filled with sadness. “She loved me,” I whispered. “She loved me very
much.”
Tanner rolled to the side, and cupped my face. “You’re real easy to love,
princess.” It was then I realized I had it. The life my mother wanted for me.
I had a man who loved me. A brother who I was determined to know. A

nephew who I would spoil . . . and freedom. Such sweet freedom to live a
life of meaning and happiness.
“We need to live for her,” I told Tanner and held the picture to my chest.
“We need to be happy for her . . . my mother . . . Lucy Sinclair.”

“We will,” Tanner whispered and kissed me. “We so fucking will.”
I was forever going to hold him to that promise.
I couldn’t wait to start.

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OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eighteen

Styx
McKinney, Texas

I kicked open the door of the trailer the fucker lived in. The asshole got up

from his chair. I didn’t even hesitate, just pulled out my German blade and
stabbed the fucker through the heart. His eyes widened, and he fell to the

floor. Blood seeped out around him, and I spat on his ugly fucking face.
I met his eyes, and watched as my uncle, Matthew fucking Sinclair, stared

into the eyes of his nephew. The son of the woman he raped and abused,
causing her to run away. His motherfucking sister.

I made fucking sure he would remember the face of the man who killed

him.
Me.

Styx fucking Nash.

President of the Hades Hangmen.

The son of Lucy Sinclair.

When the rapist was dead, I got back on my bike and went the fuck home.

To Mae and Charon. My club and my sister.

 And with every mile I tore up road, I thought how life was real fucking

good. And I was gonna keep it that way.

Just like my mama wanted.

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OceanofPDF.com
 Epilogue

Tanner
Two weeks later . . .

“There,” Tank said and sat back from the bed. Fucker smiled. “My best—

and most challenging—work yet.”

He held out his hand for me to take. He pulled me off the bed. My wounds

were mostly healed, still hurt like a motherfucker, but I didn’t give a shit. I
was alive. And if I had to lie in this bed and not be able to fuck my woman

or do club runs, thought I’d best make it productive.

It was time for the Nazi shit to go.

I walked to the mirror and stared at my body. There was no fascist crap on

me anymore. Not one swastika. Not one piece of white-power shit left on
my skin. It was now replaced with Hades, demons, and whatever the fuck

else Tank wanted to put on me. I didn’t care. “Good?” Tank asked, putting

his tattoo gun away. It’d taken two weeks. Two weeks to gradually cover
every bit of my skin, from feet to neck.

“It’s good,” I said and shook Tank’s hand.

Beau came through the door and stared at my chest. “Nice work,” he said

to Tank, then me. Beau was staying in an apartment just outside the
Hangmen compound. I’d tried to convince him to prospect for the

Hangmen. We’d see. Beau kept everything so fucking close to his chest.

Never knew what he was thinking most of the time. But my brother would

be good for this club. Just had to give him time to get to that conclusion

himself.
“Get dressed,” Tank said and threw me my shirt, jeans, and cut off the

floor.

“Why the fuck am I here?” Beau asked Tank. Tank had ordered Beau to

the club today. Told me I had to be dressed for something. Fuck knew what.

Fucker smirked. “You’ll see.”

The door went again, and Adelita walked though. My jaw almost hit the

fucking floor when I saw her. She was dressed in a tight red dress, her usual

red lipstick on her lips. Her dark hair was down, and she looked fucking

perfect.

“Shit,” I said when she came toward me. I held out my hand. Adelita took

it, and I pulled her into my chest.

“Tanner, your injuries!” she complained.

“Fuck the injuries.” I pressed my lips to her mouth. I needed her. I needed

to fuck her. Needed her under me. Hadn’t had her in such a fucking long

time. Bitch wouldn’t allow it. That shit was changing tonight.
 “Now, now, Tanner.” Beauty’s voice cut me off from kissing my wife. “I

love you both and all, but like hell I wanna see y’all fucking.” Beauty

smiled, then said, “Anyway, we got something to show you.”

I frowned, then looked to Adelita. She shrugged. “I don’t know what is

happening either. Beauty just made me get ready.”

I held Adelita’s hand and walked out of the hallway, behind Tank and
Beauty. Beau stayed behind me. Beauty stopped at the entrance to the yard.

She put her hand on the door, then said, “Y’all snuck the fuck off and got

married with us. Now, y’all know I love to plan a fucking party.” Adelita

looked to me, confused. Beauty opened the door, and I saw all my brothers

and their bitches out in the yard. They held up their drinks when they saw

us. Adelita’s eyes widened. “So I threw y’all one!” Beauty said. “Gotta

celebrate our very own Romeo and Juliet getting hitched.” Beauty dragged

Adelita to a table holding drinks and handed her a champagne—bitch had

gone all out.

Hush put a bottle in my hand. His eyes fell to the new tattoos on my arms.
“About fucking time.” He smirked. But I nodded in agreement.

It was about fucking time.

Adelita got pulled into the crowd by the bitches. Her smile was so fucking

wide I felt it like a stab to my chest. She made a beeline for Mae, who
handed her Charon. Seeing my bitch holding her nephew in her arms

fucking destroyed me.

I wanted that. I wanted my kid in Adelita’s arms. I wanted her looking at

our kid like she was looking at Charon. Like she could hear my thoughts,

she turned around and smiled at me.

I was one lucky fucker.

Styx came beside me, and I saw him looking at his sister with his son.

Adelita had gone to his house more and more over the past couple of weeks.

Styx didn’t say much to her, but I knew the brother loved having her there.

Who the fuck wouldn’t? Like I’d told her, she was easy to love.

Styx put his hands to his mouth and whistled. The yard fell silent and the

music cut off. Adelita came over to me when Styx met her eyes and nudged

his head in our direction. I shrugged when she looked at me for an

explanation. I didn’t have one.

Beauty came out of the doors behind us. I smiled when I saw what was in

her hands. Beauty stopped before Adelita. “Beauty . . .” Adelita whispered.

“What you waiting for?” Beauty said. “Try it the fuck on, girl.”

Beauty helped Adelita slip on the leather cut. When it was on, Adelita

turned to face me, a huge fucking smile on her face and “Property of

Tanner” on her fucking back.

“You like?” Adelita said to me, her red lips hooking up into a smile.
 Growling, I smashed my mouth to hers and said, “You’re wearing that

tonight in bed. That and nothing fucking else.”

Someone cleared their throat. Luis. “It suits you,” he said to Adelita. The

guy always spoke in English to Lita whenever he was around me. She had a

fucking good friend in him.

“Thank you, Luis,” Adelita said. Her shoulders sagged. “You sure you

have to leave tomorrow?” Luis was heading back to Mexico. Back to his

church.

“I have people to serve, Lita. But I’ll be back to see you as much as I can.”

Adelita threaded her arm through his. “Then we need to have a goodbye
drink.” I watched her as she disappeared into the crowd, my name on her

fucking back. The music came back on, and brothers got back to drinking.

Chavez, Ky, Shadow, AK, and Vike came over to me. AK handed me

another beer. Adelita had met with Chavez a couple of times. He’d told her

how he fucking hated his old man. The minute she knew that, he had

Adelita’s attention. She hated her old man too for what he did to her, to her

mama.

“Any news?” Styx signed. Ky spoke for him.

Chavez nodded. “Put feelers out. Had a couple of leads.” His eyes

narrowed. “Not sure what the fuck is going on. But we’ll keep chasing it.”

“You need anything. Let us know,” Styx signed.

 We were looking for Charley, Adelita’s best friend. We had no fucking

idea where she was. But we knew Diego had sent her some-fucking-where.

Adelita was happy, but that didn’t stop her crying at night for her best friend

who’d disappeared off the face of the earth. I told Styx. He got Chavez and

Shadow to look into it. So we were fucking looking into it.

“When we find her, count me the fuck in to get her out of wherever she

is.” We all looked to Viking.

“What the fuck for?” Ky asked.

Viking smiled. “That bitch hit me.” I frowned. “At the exchange, when I

grabbed her. She fucking punched me in the fucking face.”

“And?” Ky questioned.

“She hit me,” he said like we were all fucking dumb. Viking grabbed his

cock through his jeans and smiled. “Been thinking about her ever since.”

Fucker whistled and shook his head. “That right hook, that kind of fire in

bed . . .” He waggled his eyebrows. “The anaconda won’t be satisfied until

he’s tasted her pussy . . . and I’m hoping she slaps me the fuck around in the

process too.”

“You get she’s been trafficked or some shit, yeah?” Shadow said.
Vike put his hand on his chest. “I can be sensitive too, Shadow. I’m a man

of many talents. A spectrum of emotion.” He held up his hands. “These

hands can comfort as well as cause a bitch to squirt.”

 “It’s true,” Rudge said, nodding. “I’ve seen it.”

“I don’t even wanna fucking know what that means,” Ky said. “And

because of the fucked-up image that’s now in my head, I’m getting drunk.

Who’s with me?”

The music lifted in volume, and all the brothers drank. Beau sat in the

corner most of the night, just watching. Smiler ended up sitting beside him.

Solomon and Samson—the cult survivors—too. They were back to hanging

around the club. Always thought they’d make good Hangmen. After the
Klan and cartel shit, we could use them.

I made my way to Adelita. In fact, I never left her fucking side. And with
every laugh and smile, I wanted to be at the party less and less. I wanted her

back in our room. A few hours in, with brothers fucked off their faces, she
must have seen it in my face. Taking my hand, Adelita led me through the

club and to our room.

The minute the door shut, I pushed her against it. “Fuck my injuries,

there’s no fucking way I ain’t taking your pussy tonight, princess.”

Adelita reached down and gripped my cock through my jeans. She smiled,

and I smashed my mouth to hers. I threw my cut and shirt to the floor, then
kicked off my boots and jeans. I didn’t give a fuck about the tattoos that
hadn’t even started to heal. Nothing was stopping me from fucking Lita

tonight. Not one fucking thing.

 Drawing back, I pulled Adelita’s dress down, baring her tits. “So fucking
perfect,” I growled. Adelita stepped out from the dress, slipped her cut back

on, then walked to the bed . . . fuck, she’d kept on her red lace panties too. I
wanted her. I wanted her so much. But when she lay down and held out her

arms, I no longer wanted it to be fast.

Moving to the bed, I crawled over her. Adelita looked into my eyes, and

she put her hands around my neck. “We finally get our wedding night,” she
said and smiled. “I finally get to love you as my husband.”
Slowly, I kissed Adelita. I peeled off her panties, and without breaking

from her mouth, slid inside her. Adelita moaned, and I pulled back to watch
her face. She never looked away from me. Even as she came, digging her

red-painted nails into my shoulders, making me come too. She never

fucking once looked away.

A tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m so happy, Tanner,” she whispered.
She swallowed. “I’m so happy that I’m worried it can’t last. That we’ll be

ripped from each other again.”

I pushed her hair off her face. “Never, princess. That’s never fucking

happening. No one is taking you from me again.” I dropped my forehead to

hers. “We’re getting a place close by. We’re gonna have a kid. And we’re

gonna have a fucking family. Christ knows we deserve it.”

“Tanner . . .” she whispered and kissed my lips. “That sounds perfect.”
 And it did. It took a fucking long time. But we did it.
The White Prince.

The cartel princess.

The world tried to keep us apart.

We told the world “fuck you.”

*****

Governor Ayers
Hidden location, Texas

I pulled the hood over my head. I heard the low murmur of voices, of

chanting, from the end of the tunnel. The lights were low; the temperature
was hot. When I entered the main room, he looked up. The knife in his hand

was coated in blood. His eyes narrowed as I drew back my hood.

“Where’s the shipment?” he asked, licking the blood from the blade of his
knife.

“Not coming. The shipments have stopped. Distribution has been

compromised.”

Silence met me, then, “And who is responsible?”

“The Hades Hangmen. Austin chapter. They’re responsible for it all.”
 He walked toward me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Then they’re

dead. They all will die.”

Turning, I pulled up my hood and walked back down the tunnel . . . and

smiled.

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 The End

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 Coming Soon

A Flame and Maddie Novella

Hades Hangmen #8 (Viking’s Novel)

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 Playlist

Stuck In The South — Adia Victoria

Start A War — The National

River — Bishop Briggs

Hold On — Tom Waits

Me Soltaste — Jesse & Joy

Horns — Bryce Fox

Despacito — Madilyn Bailey, Leroy Sanchez

Will You Still Let Me In — Jonny Fears

Us — James Bay
Skin — Rag ‘n’ Bone Man

Abràzame — Cami

Bleeding Out — Imagine Dragons

Burning House — Cam

Crooked — Amos Lee

Say Something — A Great Big World, Christina Aquilera

The Night we Met — Lord Huron

Bésame — Camila
You Said You’d Grow Old With Me — Michael Schulte

One More Light — Linkin Park

Tough (Acoustic) —Dean Lewis

Hay Amores — Shakira

Wait Up For Me — Amos Lee

Such A Simple Thing — Ray LaMontagne

Lost Without You (Live) — Freya Ridings

Sound of Silence — Kina Grannis

Lento (Unplugged) — Julieta Venegas

To listen, follow the link: Click Here

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 Acknowledgements

Thank you to my husband, Stephen, for being my biggest supporter.

Roman, my little smooch. You are the absolute light of my life. I’m so blessed to be your mammy. I

never thought it was possible to love somebody so much. You’re the best thing I have ever done in

my life. Everything is for you.

Mam and Dad, thank you for the continued support. Dad, thank you for always being a champion of

my writing and helping me whenever I need you.

Samantha, Marc, Taylor, Isaac, Archie, and Elias, love you all.

Thessa, thank you for being the best assistant in the world. You make the best edits, keep me

organized and are one kick ass friend to boot!

Liz, thank you for being my super-agent and friend.

To my fabulous editor, Kia. I couldn’t have done it without you.

Neda and Ardent Prose, I am so happy that I jumped on board with you guys. You’ve made my life
infinitely more organized. You kick PR ass!

To my Tillie’s Tribe and Hangmen Harem, I couldn’t ask for better book friends. Thank you for all

for everything you do for me. Here’s to another step forward in our Dark Romance Revolution! I love

how your little dark hearts are drawn to mine. Viva Dark Romance!

Jenny and Gitte, you know how I feel about you two ladies. Love you to bits! I truly value
everything you’ve done for me over the years, and continue to do!

Vilma, thank you for being on the other end of the phone regarding all the Spanish questions.

You’re a total sweetheart.

Thank you to all the AMAZING bloggers that have supported my career from the start, and the ones

who help share my work and shout about it from the rooftops. You’re appreciated more than you’ll

ever know.
 And lastly, thank you to the readers. Without you none of this would be possible. Our Hades

Hangmen world is one of my very favorite places to be. Some people don’t understand us, and our
undying love for our favorite men in leather… But we have each other, our own tribe, and that’s all

we’ll ever need as our biker series grows!

Our Hangmen world kicks ass!

Thank you for taking a walk on the dark side with me. It’s a fun place to be once you take the leap ;)

“Live Free. Ride Free. Die Free!”

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 Author Biography

Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her

English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she
could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed

her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in

between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to
paper, and finishing her first novel.

After several years living in Italy, Canada and the USA, Tillie has now settled back in her

hometown in England, with her husband and new son.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including:
Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than spending time with her little family,

curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, and convincing herself that

she really doesn’t need that last square of chocolate.

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 Follow Tillie At:

https://www.facebook.com/tilliecoleauthor

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https://twitter.com/tillie_cole

Instagram: @authortilliecole

Or drop me an email at: authortilliecole@gmail.com

Or check out my website:

www.tilliecole.com

For all news on upcoming releases, join Tillie’s newsletter: Click Here

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