50. Forty-Nine

I told Eli everything, all the sordid little details, the lies, the cover-ups, the negotiations. Everything. He deserved to know.

I watched Eli's face as I spoke, searching for any flicker of emotion, any hint of judgment or condemnation. But his expression remained impassive, his pale blue eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat.

When I finished, silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. I fought the urge to fill it with more words, more explanations, more justifications. Instead, I forced myself to wait, to give him time to process everything I had just revealed.

“I thought all of this was behind us after that night at the mansion. Why didn't you tell me sooner?” he asked finally, his voice quiet but edged with something sharp.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I thought I could handle it on my own. I didn't want to drag you further into my mess. Algerone has a lot of reach. He could do a lot of damage.”

“And Xion? What about him? Were you just going to hand over your own brother to that psychopath?” Anger flashed in Eli's eyes now, bright and searing.

“Of course not!” I snapped. “I would never... I could never do that to Xion. But Dani... I can't leave her there, at his mercy. I have to get her out, no matter the cost.”

Eli shook his head, disgust twisting his features. “This can't be the only option.”

“You think I haven't tried to find another way?” I demanded, my own temper flaring. “You think I want to be indebted to Algerone fucking Caisse-Etremont? My back is to the wall, especially now that Dani is in Malaysia. Algerone and his people may be the only way to get to her.”

“Does the rest of your family know?” Eli asked.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “No.”

Eli's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “Jesus Christ, Shepherd. How could you keep something like this from them?”

I averted my gaze, shame coiling in my gut like a venomous serpent. “They wouldn't understand. They'd try to stop me, or worse, insist on getting involved. I can't risk that. I have to handle this on my own.”

“They deserve to know,” Eli insisted, his voice rising with each word. “They're your family, for fuck's sake. You can't just make these kinds of decisions without them.”

“Don't you think I know that? Don't you think it's eating me up inside, keeping this from them? But I have to protect them, Eli. That's my job. That's what I've always done. Xander and Xavier get to live a normal life… Well, normal for them. But the point remains. They got to be teenagers, go to school, have friends. They get a good, easy life because I absorb all of this for them.”

Eli fell silent, his gaze searching my face. I could see the conflict warring within him, the desire to understand battling with the instinct to protect. After a long moment, he sighed, his shoulders slumping. “This... this is too much for you to handle alone. You need your family. You need me.”

I closed my eyes, the weight of his words settling heavy on my chest. “I know. God, I know. But I can't risk losing anyone else. I already lost Dani, and I almost lost you. I can't...”

My voice broke, and I felt Eli's arms wrap around me, pulling me close. I clung to him, burying my face in the crook of his neck as the tears I'd been holding back for so long finally spilled over.

“We'll figure this out,” Eli murmured, his lips brushing against my temple. “Together. I'm here for you, Shepherd. No matter what. You hear me?”

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. We stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in each other's arms, drawing strength from the connection between us.

When I finally pulled back, Eli cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the last of my tears. “First things first. We need to tell your family. Especially Xander and Xavier. They deserve to know what's going on.”

I grimaced, but nodded. “You're right. I just... I don't know how to bring it up without them hating me.”

“They could never hate you, Shepherd,” Eli said softly, his hands still cradling my face. “They love you. We all do. And we'll stand by you, no matter what. But we can't do that if you keep shutting us out.”

I leaned into his touch, drawing comfort from the steadiness of his presence. “I know. I'm sorry. I just... I thought I was protecting them. Protecting you.”

Eli pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “You don't have to carry this burden alone anymore. We're in this together, remember?”

I managed a shaky smile. “Since when did you become the wise one in this relationship?”

Eli huffed a laugh. “One of us has to be.”

The teasing note in his voice eased some of the tension coiled in my chest. “Someone’s begging for a punishment.”

I couldn't suppress the faint smile tugging at my lips. Trust Eli to know exactly how to pull me back from the brink, to anchor me when everything felt like it was spinning out of control.

“Okay,” I said, my voice still rough with emotion. “I'll call Mom and ask her to gather everyone for an emergency family meeting. It's time they knew the truth.”

Eli nodded.

I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling slightly as I scrolled through my contacts. My mother's name seemed to mock me from the screen, a stark reminder of all the secrets and lies that stood between us. I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the call button.

Eli's hand settled over mine, his touch warm and steadying. “You can do this,” he murmured, his breath ghosting across my skin. “I'm right here with you.”

I took a deep breath and hit the call button. The phone rang once, twice, three times before my mother's voice filled my ear, concern already coloring her tone. “Shepherd? What's wrong, Pebble?”

I closed my eyes, steeling myself for the conversation to come. “Mom, I need you to gather the family. Xavier, Xander…everyone. There's something I need to tell you all, and it can't wait.”

The gravel crunched beneath the tires as we pulled into the driveway of the Laskin family homestead. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the weathered siding of the two-story farmhouse. Adjacent to the house stood the Laskin Family Funeral Home, a somber brick edifice that had served as both the family business and a convenient front for less savory operations.

As I cut the engine, I took a moment to observe Eli's reaction. His eyes were wide, darting between the house and the funeral home with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The set of his jaw and the slight tremor in his hands betrayed his nervousness, though he was clearly trying to mask it.

“Are you ready for this?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

“You mean am I ready to meet my dom’s mom, her girlfriend—who is a Russian mafia princess married to his dad’s boyfriend, who runs the fucking Russian mafia?” He blew out a breath. “How does one prepare for such a meeting?”

I couldn't help but smile at Eli's succinct summation of our complex family dynamics. “I understand this is a lot to process,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “The Laskin family structure is... unconventional, to say the least. But I assure you, they're eager to meet you.”

I’d lucked out because most of the family was already in town for the extended winter holiday. Warrick and Paxton were staying with Mom until his girls went back to school next week, and Xander and Xavier still lived at home. All it took was a phone call across town to River’s place and the gang would be all there.

Eli nodded, his platinum hair catching the late morning sunlight. The contrast between his edgy, tattooed appearance and the pastoral surroundings of the farm was striking. I found myself wondering, not for the first time, what my family would make of him.

“Let's do this,” Eli said, squaring his shoulders with determination.

We exited the car, the gravel crunching beneath our feet as we made our way towards the house. Snow piled up in melting drifts near the front of the driveway. Some puddles had frozen up overnight and were still melting, requiring careful footing.

As we approached the front porch, the screen door creaked open and my mother emerged, a warm smile lighting up her face. Annie Laskin was the quintessential picture of a doting grandmother—silver hair, neatly coiffed, kind eyes twinkling behind wire-rimmed glasses, and an apron dusted with flour. To the casual observer, she exuded an aura of homespun comfort and maternal affection. It was a carefully cultivated image, one that hid the steel beneath her gentle exterior.

“Shepherd, sweetie!” she exclaimed, descending the worn wooden steps with surprising agility for a woman of her years. She enveloped me in a tight embrace, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon clinging to her clothes. “I'm so glad you could make it.”

As she released me, her gaze shifted to Eli, who stood slightly behind me, his posture a study in barely contained nervous energy.

“And this must be Eli,” my mother said, her voice warm and welcoming. “I've heard so much about you, dear. Come here and let me get a good look at you.”

Eli stepped forward, his usual confidence seemingly diminished in the face of this unexpected maternal attention. My mother's eyes roved over him, taking in the vibrant tattoos adorning his arms, the piercing in his lips, and the shock of platinum hair twitching in the wind. “Well, you’re certainly…colorful.”

“Mother,” I growled quietly.

“What? He is.”

To his credit, Eli maintained his composure admirably. “It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Laskin,” Eli said, his voice steady despite his obvious nervousness. He extended his hand, which my mother ignored in favor of pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Oh, none of that 'Mrs. Laskin' business,” she chided gently as she released him. “You call me Annie, dear. We're family now.”

Eli smiled as she stepped back. “Okay.”

“Come on inside, boys,” Annie said, ushering us towards the house. “I've just pulled a batch of snickerdoodles out of the oven, and Tatty is finishing up lunch.”

As we entered the farmhouse, the rich aroma of baking spices and savory herbs enveloped us. The interior was a fascinating juxtaposition of rustic charm and modern amenities— exposed wooden beams and well-worn floorboards coexisting with state-of-the-art appliances and subtle security features that only a trained eye would notice.

The kitchen was a hive of activity. My mother bustled about, transferring freshly baked cookies onto a cooling rack. At the stove stood Tatiana Volkov—Tatty to family.

“Shepherd!” Tatty exclaimed, her accent still noticeable despite years in the States. She abandoned her post at the stove to embrace me, her grip firm and familiar. As she pulled back, her sharp green eyes focused on Eli, assessing him with the practiced gaze of someone accustomed to identifying threats and weaknesses. “And this must be the boy who's captured our Shepherd's heart.”

I felt Eli tense beside me, no doubt sensing the predatory undercurrent in Tatty's demeanor. To his credit, he met her gaze steadily, offering a small smile. “It's nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Tatty's lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. “Please, call me Tatty, darling. Ma’am makes me feel so old !”

A high-pitched squeal erupted from upstairs. Two small blurs of motion rushed down the stairs, a whirlwind of braids and colorful dresses. Xander hobbled down after them in an exaggerated prowl, wearing an ugly Halloween mask.

The girls shrieked with a mixture of terror and delight as they fled from their pursuer.

I tensed instinctively as the girls burst into the kitchen, their eyes wide with excitement. As soon as they spotted me, however, their expressions shifted. Lettie skidded to a halt, throwing out an arm to stop Charlie from barreling into her. Both girls stared at me with a mixture of fear and wariness that made my chest tighten uncomfortably.

It wasn't their fault, of course. I'd only met them a handful of times, and I knew my imposing stature and serious demeanor could be intimidating, especially to children. Still, it stung to see them shrink away from me, pressing themselves against the far wall of the kitchen as if trying to make themselves invisible.

“Fi-fie-fo-fum! I smell the blood of…Oh, hey, Shepherd.” Xander pulled off the mask, grinning widely. “Wanna help me torture the naughty little brats who got into my makeup?”

I raised an eyebrow at Xander's theatrical display. “I think I'll pass on the child torture today, thanks.”

Xander pouted dramatically. “I guess I'll just have to eat them myself!” He lunged playfully at the girls, who shrieked and darted behind Tatty.

“There will be no torture today,” Warrick said, stepping into the doorway. “Girls, you know the rules. No horseplay in the kitchen.”

“Or else you’ll fall into the oven and I like my children raw and wiggling.” Xander let out an exaggerated cackle.

“Stay away from my sister!” Lettie kicked out a foot and caught poor Xander right between the legs.

Xander's eyes bulged comically as he crumpled to the floor, hands cupped protectively over his groin. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he wheezed. “Little hellion's got one hell of a kick.”

I couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped me. Poor bastard. I'd been on the receiving end of a few well-placed kicks in my time, and it was never pleasant. Still, there was something deeply satisfying about seeing my brother taken down a peg by a pint-sized terror in pigtails.

“No cussing in the kitchen,” Mom chided in Russian, waving everyone off. “It makes the food sour.”

Warrick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Lettie, what have we told you about using your karate skills on real people?”

“Only do it if they're trying to hurt you or Daddy or Charlie,” Lettie recited dutifully, though her defiant glare suggested she felt entirely justified in her actions.

“And was Xander actually trying to hurt you?” Warrick pressed.

Lettie's lower lip jutted out in a pout. “No,” she admitted grudgingly. “But he was being scary!”

“I was just playing,” Xander protested weakly from his position on the floor. “Christ on a cracker. I think she ruptured something.”

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” I muttered under my breath. This was rapidly devolving into a clusterfuck of epic proportions. Beside me, I could feel Eli vibrating with barely contained laughter. At least someone was enjoying this shitshow.

Warrick stepped fully into the kitchen, his imposing presence immediately commanding attention. Despite the casual jeans and flannel shirt, there was no mistaking the air of authority he carried. “Lettie, Charlie, go wash up for lunch. We'll discuss appropriate consequences afterwards.”

The girls scampered off, shooting wary glances at me as they passed.

As the chaos in the kitchen settled, I caught my mother's eye and jerked my head towards the porch. She nodded, understanding my silent request.

“Eli, dear, why don't you and Tatty get everyone settled for lunch? Shepherd and I are going to have a quick chat on the porch,” Mom said, already gathering a plate of cookies and two coffee cups.

I followed Mom out onto the porch, the old wooden boards creaking beneath our feet. The winter air bit at my exposed skin, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth of the kitchen. I could see my breath misting in front of me as I leaned against the railing, looking out over the snow-covered fields.

Mom handed me a steaming mug of coffee, the heat seeping into my cold fingers. “You missed Christmas,” she said softly, a hint of reproach in her voice.

I sighed, taking a sip of the strong black brew. “I know. Things were... complicated.”

“They always are with you, sweetie.” She patted my arm. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you were missed.”

Guilt gnawed at my insides. I'd never been great with kids, but I knew I should make more of an effort with my nieces. “I'll try to visit more,” I promised, though we both knew it was likely an empty gesture.

We stood in silence for a moment, sipping our coffee and watching our breath fog in the cold air. I could hear muffled laughter from inside the house—probably Xander hamming it up for the girls again. The normalcy of it all felt surreal after everything that had happened in the past few days.

“Mom,” I said finally, turning to face her. “We need to talk about Algerone.”

Her expression hardened, the warm grandmotherly facade slipping slightly. “That old bastard. I should’ve known he wouldn’t leave things well enough alone.” She sighed. “I suppose there’s no helping it now that you know about him. Might as well deal with it. What’s he gone and done now?”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was sure to be a difficult conversation. “Mom, I need to know what happened between you and Algerone. This shit has gone way beyond a simple business dispute.”

Mom's lips thinned into a hard line. She turned away from me, gazing out over the snow-covered fields. The weak winter sun cast long shadows across the pristine white expanse, broken only by the stark silhouettes of bare trees.

“It's complicated, Shepherd,” she said finally, her voice weary. “Algerone and I... we have history. Bad blood that goes back decades.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Fucking typical. Getting a straight answer out of my mother was like pulling teeth sometimes. “I gathered that much. But I need details, Mom. He's using the feds to come after us. This isn't just going to blow over.”

Mom sighed, her breath misting in the frigid air. She took a long sip of her coffee before speaking again. “There was a woman. A good friend of mine. She was an actress, and she was stunning. But she was also troubled. We met Algerone at a wrap party. He was young, handsome, rich… And Imogen was so desperate for a shred of affection. For him, it was a one-night stand, but for her…” Mom sighed. “She got pregnant. It should’ve been a happy moment except when she went to see Algerone, he turned her away without even speaking to her. He had that nasty butler of his send her away. Poor Imogen was crushed. She had…I suppose you’d call it a breakdown.”

“What kind of breakdown are we talking about here?” I asked, my professional curiosity piqued. “Psychotic episode? Severe depression?”

Mom's eyes took on a faraway look. “It was... severe. Imogen started having delusions, convinced that Algerone was sending people to spy on her, to steal her babies. She'd call me at all hours, sobbing and ranting about shadows on the walls and voices whispering to her. I tried to get her help, but she refused to see anyone. Said they were all in Algerone's pocket. I did what I could to help her. I thought she’d get better. But…” She closed her eyes and lowered the coffee cup. “They found her on the bathroom floor one morning shortly after the boys were born. Just…gone.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “Was it suicide?”

Mom sighed and lowered her coffee cup. “No one knew. The coroner’s report was inconclusive. After it happened, I felt guilty. I wanted to believe her. After all, you’ve met Algerone. You know how he can be. It’s entirely believable he might’ve been trying to strong arm her into…whatever he wanted. But, given her unstable mind, it’s also possible the entire thing was a delusion. Perhaps Algerone was only ever guilty of fraternal disinterest. There was no way to know. And, at the time, it didn’t really matter to the three babies Imogen left behind. I couldn't just stand by and let those babies end up in the system. So I... took matters into my own hands.”

The pieces started falling into place. “You stole them,” I said flatly. It wasn't a question.

“I prefer to think of it as an emergency adoption,” Mom replied, a hint of her usual dark humor creeping into her voice.

I pushed away from the railing. “Christ, mother. Did you verify Algerone knew they existed?”

She met my eyes. “As far as I knew, Imogen had told him and he rejected her. But…perhaps that nasty little butler of his was the one who sent her away and he never even knew about them as he claims. Anything is possible.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Fuck, Mom. You can't just steal someone's kids, even if they are a giant asshole.”

Mom's eyes flashed. “Watch your tone, young man. I did what I had to do to protect those boys. You didn't see Imogen in those final weeks. The fear in her eyes, the desperation. She was terrified of what Algerone might do to her babies. And it turned out I was right. You’ve seen what sort of man he is. Do you think he was capable of raising three babies? Especially Xander, Xavier, and Xion, with all of their issues. Why are you asking me about all this now? I presume he’s approached you since he can’t get to me?”

“He wants the boys,” I said. “All three of them. He’s blackmailing me with his connection to the feds, forcing me to deliver Xion to him. I don’t even know what machinations he has in place trying to get to Xander and Xavier but I know he’s coming for them, too. If I don’t hand over Xion in the next two days, information will be released to the FBI, enough to put us all away for a good, long while.”

“Well, that’s just ridiculous,” she said with a snort. “Xion’s locked up in a psych ward. How are you supposed to…”

I met her eyes. “I thought I was protecting him by moving him out of the hospital. Algerone has people everywhere. He could’ve gotten to Xion in there.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And I thought I could just keep Xion away from him. It was one thing when he was only dangling Dani’s rescue in front of me, but I can’t let all of you go to prison.”

“Wait…Daniella? Your sister?” She put a hand on my shoulder. “Shepherd, did you find her?”

I nodded gravely. “Months ago. We…even spoke a few times. But she couldn’t leave the cult. She’s pregnant and brainwashed. I tried to free her, but Ezekiel moved her and the rest of his cult out of the country. They’re in Malaysia. Algerone’s mercenary operation is the only group capable of getting her out. I was considering giving up on her for Xion’s sake, but this new information…it changes things.” I dropped into the other rocking chair. “I don't know what to do, Mom,” I admitted, hating how much I sounded like the lost little boy I used to be.

Mom was quiet for a long moment, her gaze drifting out over the snow-covered fields. The weak winter sun had climbed higher, painting the sky in streaks of gold. Mom’s rocking chair creaked as it moved slightly.

“Sometimes doing the right thing means making hard choices,” she said. “Choices that will alter the trajectory of lives far beyond our own. We can’t always know how that’s going to turn out. All we can do is make the best decisions we can with the information and options given to us.”

“What should I do, Mom? Either way, I’m going to hurt someone I care about. How am I supposed to choose between the family I share blood with and the family I grew up with? It’s not fair.”

Mom reached over and squeezed my hand. “Life rarely is fair, sweetie. But let me ask you this. If you had to choose between saving one person you love or saving a hundred strangers, what would you do?”

I frowned, considering the question. “I'd save the person I love,” I admitted. “But I'd feel like shit about it.”

She nodded. “That's because you're a good man, Shepherd. But sometimes we have to make those impossible choices to protect the ones we love most.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. Fuck, I needed a drink. Or ten. “So you're saying I should give Xion up to save Dani and her baby?”

Mom's eyes flashed with a familiar steel. “I'm saying you need to reframe how you look at this. Perhaps it isn’t a betrayal. Maybe I’m the one in the wrong here. Maybe a good old-fashioned sit down between us and Algerone is exactly what we need. Maybe I messed up taking those boys away from Algerone. Either way, they deserve the chance to make that decision for themselves. All you’re doing is playing the middle man, setting up a meeting. You can’t know how it will play out, but I can promise you this. Xavier, Xion, and Xander are resourceful and smart, and I trained them all well. Xion’s got a whole company of mercenaries looking after him too, doesn’t he?”

I frowned. “You knew about that? All this time, you knew where he was? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Mom's lips curved into a wry smile. “Sweetie, I'm your mother. I know everything that goes on in this family, whether you boys want me to or not.”

I shook my head, torn between exasperation and grudging admiration. Of course she fucking knew. Annie Laskin had eyes and ears everywhere. It was part of what made her such a formidable matriarch.

“So,” she said, picking up her coffee cup, “how long did he give you?”

“Two days.”

“Well then,” she said, standing, “You have time for lunch.”

After lunch, I left Eli at the house in Liar’s Corner and drove out to the junkyard for one last-ditch attempt at talking Boone out of making the biggest mistake of his life.

I pulled into the junkyard, gravel crunching under the tires of my SUV. As I stepped out of the vehicle, my boots sank slightly into the muddy ground. Fucking great. These were new shoes. I'd barely taken two steps when I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye.

“Hey! You can't be here!”

I turned to see a skinny young man in thick glasses rushing towards me, waving his arms like a deranged air traffic controller. Leo, Boone's tech expert.

“Hey, Professor!" He planted himself in my path like he wasn’t a hundred and thirty pounds soaking wet. “Sorry, but Boone said—”

“Move,” I growled.

Leo's eyes went wide behind his glasses, but to his credit, he stood his ground. “I’m sorry, Shepherd. I can't let you—”

I shoved past him, nearly knocking him over. My long strides ate up the distance to Boone's trailer. Behind me, I could hear Leo's panicked footsteps as he scrambled to catch up.

“Wait! You don't understand—”

I ignored him, marching up the rickety metal steps to bang on Boone’s trailer door.

Boone jerked it open a second later and demanded, “What?”

I pushed the door open, forcing him back a step, and shouldered my way into the trailer. Xion was half dressed and sitting on the counter, a bowl of cereal in his hands.

“Get your things, Xion,” I demanded. “You’re coming with me.”

“The fuck I am,” Xion replied with a mouthful of cereal.

“Now wait just a goddamn minute.” Boone stepped between us, arms crossed. “You can’t just barge in here and demand he come with you.”

I stared down at the smaller man. He might’ve been the best shot between us, but in hand to hand, I had him beat. “You’re in no position to stop me.”

Xion hopped down from the counter. “Fuck you. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

I turned to face Xion, struggling to keep my temper in check. The kid looked like shit—dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, wearing nothing but a pair of ratty sweatpants.

“This isn't up for debate,” I growled. “You're coming with me, even if I have to drag you out of here.”

Xion grabbed a steak knife from the counter and held it out in front of him. “I'd like to see you try, asshole.”

I forgot how much of a pain in the ass he could be. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the rage building in my chest. Getting into a knife fight with my little brother wasn't going to solve anything.

“Put the knife down, Xion,” I said with a sigh. “Don’t make this difficult for yourself.”

The shick of a pocket knife opening had me turning my head back to Boone. “You lay a hand on him, I’ll gut you like a fucking pig.”

Before I could move, the door swung open and the cold muzzle of a rifle pressed into my back. “Back off, Shepherd,” snarled one of Boone’s men.

I weighed my options, my mind racing. Taking on all of them at once was suicide. Even if I managed to disarm the guy behind me, Boone would stab me before I could make a move on Xion. And that was assuming my little brother didn't decide to stick me with that steak knife first.

Time seemed to slow as adrenaline flooded my system. My eyes darted around the cramped trailer, searching for anything I could use to my advantage. That's when I spotted Leo, still hovering nervously by the door. The scrawny tech expert looked like he was about to piss himself.

In that moment, I made a choice. It wasn't one I was proud of, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

I lunged for Leo. The kid let out a startled yelp as I grabbed him, and I spun him around in front of me to use as a human shield. Before anyone could move, I’d drawn the blade at Leo’s side and held it against his throat.

“Let him fucking go!” Boone snarled.

“I’m not leaving without what I came for,” I said as calmly as I could. “Give him to me, and I’ll free your man.”

“Fuck you!” Xion lunged at me with the steak knife.

I tried to dodge, but in the cramped confines of the trailer, there was nowhere to go. White-hot pain cut a line through my upper arm as the blade sank in once, twice, three times in rapid succession.

I flung Leo out of the way before Xion could miss and stab him. The last thing I needed was another body to explain. Blood poured from the wounds, soaking through my shirt sleeve. The metallic scent filled my nostrils as I grabbed Xion's wrist, trying to wrench the knife away. But the little shit was stronger than he looked, twisting and thrashing like a rabid animal.

In desperation, I let go of his wrist and wrapped my hand around his throat instead, squeezing hard enough to make his eyes bulge. The knife clattered to the floor as Xion clawed at my fingers, gasping for air.

“Stop. Fucking. Fighting. Me!” I snarled through gritted teeth, before shoving him toward the couch in the living room. I didn’t even get the chance to turn and face Boon before he had his knife pressed against my spine.

“Your next step will be your last,” Boone growled.

My arm throbbed, blood dripping steadily onto the dirty linoleum. Slowly, I turned my head to look at the man holding a knife to my back. “He’ll kill you, Boone. The man behind this bounty isn’t the sort to just let you walk away, even if you kill me.”

“Fucker has to find us first,” he said, smirking.

“He already has.” Or he will have as soon as I leave.

Boone's smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing as he processed my words. The trailer fell silent, the only sound the steady drip of my blood onto the floor. We stood frozen, locked in a deadly stalemate.

My mind raced, analyzing every potential move and countermove. The knife at my back was steady, its cold edge a constant reminder of my precarious position. One wrong twitch and Boone would drive it in at the perfect angle to paralyze me.

I could feel Keres stirring in the back of my mind, a predator scenting blood. He wanted out, wanted to tear Boone limb from fucking limb. But I couldn't let him take control. Not here, not now. This situation required finesse, not brute force.

Boone's weathered face was a mask of barely contained fury, but I could see the gears turning behind those steel-gray eyes. He was a survivor, had been through things that would break most men. But he'd never faced anything like Algerone before.

The air in the trailer grew thick and oppressive, charged with tension. Sweat beaded on my forehead, mingling with the blood that had splattered there during the scuffle. My arm throbbed in time with my racing pulse, a steady reminder of the stakes at play.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Boone said eventually. “In about ten seconds, I’m going to remove my knife from your spine. Then I’m going to have Church escort you back to your car and you’re going to leave like the good little monster you are. Or I can kill you, dismember your corpse and feed you to some farmer’s pigs. Your choice.”

He let off with the knife slightly and I took the opportunity to get free, spinning around on Boone. I held Leo’s knife out in front of me. There was no reasoning with Boone, but maybe Xion would listen. Maybe he loved Boone enough to save him. “This is a mistake, Xion. If you don’t come with me right now, Boone dies for nothing.” I held my hand out to him. “Come with me. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Xion stood, fists clenched. “The last time I willingly went somewhere with a Laskin he traded me like property,” Xion said. “You only want to do the same. I don’t give a fuck about whatever you were promised in exchange for me. I’m done being passed around for other people’s profit! Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Xion…” I started. “You don’t understand. Just let me explain. This isn’t—”

Xion roared and surged forward to shove me toward the door. “Get out! And if I ever see you again, I’ll fucking kill you!”

I stared into Xion's eyes, searching for any sign of the little brother I once knew. But all I saw was rage and hatred, a feral wildness that sent a chill down my spine. Fuck. This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all.

For a moment, I considered trying to overpower him, to knock him out and drag his unconscious ass out of this shithole. But even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew it was futile. Xion had made his choice. Trying to force him now would only drive him further away.

“Fine,” I growled, throwing down the knife. “But remember, Xion. You chose this.”

The cold air hit me like a slap to the face as I stepped outside, the metal stairs creaking ominously under my weight.

Church, the hulking brute who'd had the rifle on me earlier, escorted me back to my SUV. His meaty hand gripped my shoulder, shoving me roughly against the side. “If you ever step foot on this property again, Shepherd, you’re a dead man.”

“Message received,” I replied and adjusted my jacket before getting back in the SUV. Not that his threat mattered. He and everyone else in that junkyard would probably be dead before morning.

I drove out of the junkyard and pulled over about five miles down the road, getting out my phone. It was time to end this, one way or another.