Page 54 of Sinner’s Torment

Maybe the brothers who’d used her, who’d treated her like property instead of a person.

Maybe all of them.

I didn’t know yet, but I’d figure it out when I got there.

I looked down at the bike, then at the ledger in my hand.

Then I walked back toward the house to pack a bag and say goodbye to my wife.

The Silver Shadows were about to learn a lesson they should have learned over thirty years ago.

You don’t fuck with Hex’s family.

Not ever.

Not without paying the price in blood.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Brandy

The smell of bacon and coffee filled the kitchen, warm and familiar and so achingly normal that I almost forgot why I was here. Almost forgot the weight pressing down on my chest, the secret growing inside me, the life I’d left behind in Nebraska.

Almost.

But not quite.

I sat at the kitchen table—the same scarred oak table where I’d eaten breakfast every morning of my childhood—and watched my family move around me like I’d never left. Mom stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with the same practiced ease she’d always had, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, her apron dusted with flour. Duke leaned against the counter with his coffee mug, dressed in his work clothes, and I couldn’t help feeling like the reason they were all here was simply because I had come home. Tracy sat across from me, scrolling through her phone with one hand while shoveling eggs into her mouth with the other. Chris was at the sink, washing dishes and humming under his breath.

And Dad sat at the head of the table, watching me with those sharp, knowing eyes that had always seen too much.

I’d slept for nearly fourteen hours straight after collapsing in my childhood bed. When I’d finally woken up, the morning light was already filtering through the windows, and the house smelled like breakfast. Mom had knocked softly on my door, told me to come eat when I was ready, and left without asking questions.

But I knew the questions were coming.

They always did.

“So,” Duke said, setting his coffee mug down with a soft thunk. “You gonna tell us where you’ve been all this time, or are we supposed to guess?”

“Where are the kids?” I asked, ignoring my brother’s question.

“School. Stop deflecting,” Duke ordered. He’d always been the bossy one. Thought because he was the oldest it made him a third parent.

I forced a smile, picking at the edge of my pancake with my fork. “Nebraska.”

“Nebraska?” Tracy looked up from her phone, her eyebrows raised. “The hell were you doing in Nebraska?”

“Working,” I said, keeping my voice light. “Cleaning, mostly.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Technically what I got paid for at the clubhouse was cooking and cleaning. The sex was an added benefit.

“Did you make any friends?” Mom asked from the stove, her voice gentle. She slid another pancake onto the serving plate and turned to look at me, her expression soft with maternal concern.

“A few,” I said. “Yeah. Some good people.”

Grace. Sam. Even some of the other club girls who’d been kind to me in their own way. They weren’t friends in the traditional sense—not the kind of friends you called when you needed to talk or went shopping with on weekends—but they’d been there for me when I needed them. There was Tiffany and Amber. Amber got her happy ever after. She was in California now with Massacre. She beat the odds of being a club whore. Jade was my best friend. Or had been until she died in the first attack on the clubhouse.

“And college?” Dad asked, his voice quiet but firm. “You finish your degree?”