Page 154 of Deacon

They have her, and maybe our baby too. There’s no fucking way I’ll let Aiden get away with this.

I alight the porch and head for the blacksmith shop.

“Where are you going?”

I stop, looking down at my boots. Jack knows who I am. He’s been my friend for over a decade and a half. None of the violence I’m about to commit will shock him. I turn, looking back. He’s gazing at me from beneath the brim of his black hat.

“Aiden Hatfield needs to be put down,” I say. “But I’m not doing that with a gun. That’s too good for him.”

Jack’s face doesn’t change. “What do you need?”

“I need the rest of you to handle the other men,” I say. “Aiden’s mine.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

FREYA

It’s getting on towards night.

After Bittern left, nobody came again, but I can hear men moving about the house. I’m in a bedroom with the window boarded shut. Luckily, there’s a small adjoining bathroom with a toilet and a sink. Otherwise, all I can do is pace the room or sit on the bed with my arms wrapped around my legs, staring into space.

Once or twice, I touch my stomach and wonder what will happen.

I’m exhausted, my head blurry, but I can’t sleep.

Deacon will come for me, I know that. What scares me is wondering what kind of carnage he’ll cause and who will make it out alive. My heart aches, and all I can do is fantasize about getting free.

Getting home to Deacon.

The doorknob turns. My pulse spikes, and I push myself up, crawling back against the headboard. The door creaks open, and the bottom falls out of my stomach as Aiden walks in and shuts it behind him.

Our eyes lock. I wet my lips.

“Please let me go,” I whisper.

Aiden shakes his head once. He looks tired, but his eyes are alert. I can tell he’s been up for hours. He’s wearing one of his old shirts,dusty, eaten away at the collar, and he’s got a backward ball cap on his head. He only wears that inside when he hasn’t gotten a chance to shower in a while.

He kicks out a chair in the corner and sits, splayed out like Deacon.

“Please,” I whisper.

He shakes his head again. “I need Ryder to back down and give me that easement. He won’t do that for anybody but you. For once, you being a whore has paid off for me.”

He’s called me that so many times, but this time it hurts the most. Silence falls. He sits there, one leg jiggling, not taking his eyes from me.

“You look so much like her,” he says, voice low.

All at once, years of pain fill the room like a palpable ache. His throat bobs as he swallows.

“You loved her,” I whisper.

It tumbles out before I can stop it. All my life, I assumed he just wanted to own her, to take something beautiful and snuff it out. But the moment I say those words, a flicker of pain moves through his eyes.

“When she left, I ignored you for years,” he says distantly. “I don’t remember much of you from then, but after you said the Whitaker boy fucked you, I woke up and noticed you looked just like her.”

My mouth is dust-dry.

“You can say her name,” I whisper.

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