Page 123 of The Souls We Claim

This is my fight.

With my shoulders back and my hands down by my sides, I walk out onto the driveway.

“Hold your fire,” West says, putting his hand out to encourage his men to stay back.

“Bit dramatic, all this,” I say. “You could have just called.”

“Fuck you. Tie him up,” West shouts.

While my face doesn’t reveal a thing, I’m surprised to see Jax, the older brother from the house we raided, is one of the people who approach me. His confident stride stops, and he glances from side to side to see if either of the two men with him noticed the familiarity between us.

I shake my head fractionally, wondering why I give a shit about the young kid when he clearly didn’t take my advice and leave. I’m not going to tell any of these men what I offered him unless it has the capacity to save my life.

“Move over there,” one of the other men says.

I give the guy my undivided attention and take in every detail. From his diamond stud to the dollar-store ink on his arms, to his approximate height. I want a mental image of every man here tonight so I can hunt them through every version of eternity.

Also, I’m stalling. Every second I stand here, alive, under my own free will, and in one piece, is a blessing.

I huff. “Well, that’s a really fucking clear instruction. Over where?”

He waves the muzzle of his gun—which he’s holding in that ridiculous one-handed sideways-on style like a stereotypical bad guy—towards a narrow-trunked tree on the side of the property. “The tree.”

I start to walk toward it as multiple guns trail me. Honestly, I walk so slowly, I deserve a spot in a Scorsese movie.

“Tie him up,” West shouts again. “Then check him for weapons.”

Ten more steps. Ten more seconds.

I glance to the cabin as I walk by the front door and see no movement. The bark of the narrow tree trunk is rough to my back when I press against it.

“Hands behind it.” I don’t know who says the words, but I do as they say and feel cable ties being tightened around my wrists by Jax.

Another man strips my weapons then steps away.

“They have River,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Fuck.

No sooner are my hands tied than my half-brother steps forward and punches me hard in the face. The contact snaps my head hard to the left.

I bite down the grunt and return my eyes to his as quickly as possible without shaking it off. “Brave when my hands are tied. Dad would be ashamed of making a coward.”

West draws his fist back and hits me square in the face, and I feel my nose burst open with the force. A metallic tang slides down the back of my throat.

Fucker.

I spit blood onto the ground.

“Pity you didn’t know him. He’d have taught you to hit a lot harder than that.”

I see the flicker in his eyes that the insult hit, even as he straightens his shoulders. He pulls a gun from his holster and puts it right under my chin. “Let’s see how brave you are now.”

I think of Ari’s smile. The way she turns and her hair swishes over her shoulders. The way she holds Lola when she’s on the brink of falling asleep, whispering words to send her to dreamland knowing she’s loved.

If I told you I loved you, would you freak out?

Death is an inevitability. Even as my heart rate increases, I acknowledge that I have no control over when it finally happens.And while I pray this isn’t it, I feel at peace that West will never get into the panic room before my brothers get here.