Chapter 19

Tav

S he's like a valkyrie. But better because she's mine. All these men are pissing themselves. They have nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide. All of them except Royal. Every man who snivels, begs and cries has him lighting up on the inside. This man gets off on fear and power.

Marx leans forward, murmuring something in Royal's ear. Whatever it is has him stiffening, the glee on his face replaced by pure unadulterated anger.

"What's the matter, Uncle?" Vic asks, feigning concern as he steps over the man that he put down, "accidentally" standing on his pudgy pink hand. "Worried that our little sister is bringing an end to your dreams?"

Royal stares at Vic for a moment, before his gaze moves, stopping when it hits Dom. His lip curls up into a sneer-like grin. "My, your mother did make beautiful children, didn't she? Pity she died before she could watch me break you all."

A pop from Pixie's gun, followed by a dull thud has us turning to look at the newest victim.

"Oh yeah, you're doing a great job of breaking us," Vic answers, not taking his eyes off the man on the floor.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you. Let me guess, you and your brothers have been taking turns looking after Lovely? Helping her with the night terrors as she screams and cries, begging for it to stop?" He smiles when neither Dom nor Vic answer. "You stay up all night watching that beautiful baby girl I made by forcing my seed into your sister's belly, protecting her from people that won't think twice to put a bullet in you before selling her to her new owner. I hear he likes to break them in before they're 6 months old."

Pixie wipes his grin off his face, moving fast as lightning and backhanding him across the face, his head flying sideways. Instead of looking at her he laughs maniacally as if he is the funniest fucker on the planet.

"Oh my dearest Patience, is that all you got? I'll tell you what, I'll let you continue your little crusade. Get this out of your system. Then, well, that's when the fun will start. You think you're so smart, coming here with all these big tough men. Let's see how they fare when the Keep finds out what you've done, huh?"

Pixie's eyes narrow before widening. She spins to look at her brothers who all seemed to have figured out what the hell he's talking about. They communicate without words, and I'm getting antsy at the look on her beautiful face.

"We've got this, sis. Marx, please stay with my sister. Tav, I need you with us," Vic murmurs..

Marx takes one look at Pixie's brothers. His jaw clenches and yet he still nods in understanding. I can feel the bewildered look on my face that my Pres is agreeing with them.

"Wait, no I'm not leaving my fucking Ol Lady -" I start. Pixie steps up to me, her small hand cupping my cheek, the warmth of her stopping me in my tracks.

"Baby, if you don't go with them we'll never make it out of here. Royal has a failsafe, and I think he's put it into play. If you and the boys don't get out there soon, we're going to have the weight of the Keep bearing down on us, and those men will have a fuck ton more weapons on them than we do."

I open my mouth to argue with her, but she presses her fingers against my lips, "Octavius, listen to me. I need you to go. I need you to make us safe. I need you to get us home to the kids and we can't do that if we're both in this tiny room."

I study her face, and I know I have to do what she asks of me. I need her focused. The only way I can do that is by listening to her. She can't complete her mission if she's fretting about me and the kids.

Pressing my forehead to hers, I breathe in her scent. Telling her I love her isn't enough. The word just isn't big enough to describe how I feel. I say the only thing I can think would make sense to her, my woman who survived a fucked up religious cult who thinks having people submit to them is what makes you powerful. "You own me, all of me."

Her quick intake of breath lets me know I hit the mark. "I love you, Tav."

She grips my head and kisses me roughly, then pushes me away from her, stepping up to the next man in the line, the very last one before it's Royal's turn. I hesitate to follow Vic and Dom, who wait impatiently by the door.

"Prospect," Marx barks, bringing my attention to my Pres, "I've got her. Go fuck them all up so we get out of here in one piece." I nod at my Pres and turn to leave the room.

My legs feel like I have lead in my boots as I follow Vic and Dom.

"I need you to get your shit together. We'll take care of the men and then be back in time for Blanche's big finale," Vic says, gripping my shoulder and giving me a shake.

I scrub my hands down my face, getting into gear, but I still can't shake the feeling that is in my heart. I know why she wanted me gone. She thinks that by splitting up one of us will have a better chance of survival. She has another thing coming because there is no way I'm leaving this place without that stubborn woman of mine.

"Who do we have to fuck up so I can get back to my woman?"

Matching grins spread across their faces.

"Why Tav, I didn't think you'd be so bloodthirsty," Dom coos under his breath.

"Royal's looking cocky in there. Either he knew we were going to strike, or he's had the fail-safe in play since Hammer's arrival in case something like this happened," Vic explains, back against the building as we move quietly toward the entrance of the main hall, where all the men will be. "If that's the case, he's had a camera in the meeting room the whole time."

"Wait," I stop to look at them both, "If that's true, why hasn't anyone burst in?"

"He would have given them strict instructions to wait. He'll have a signal, trust me. When that happens, there'll be an ambush. But it won't be us who'll be in the hot seat."

We reach the main doors at the same time Rider and Tank come crouch-running toward us, guns drawn.

"Marx sent us. I say we smoke the fuckers out and pick them off," Rider says, waving a smoke bomb canister in his hand.

The Landry brothers look at each other before shrugging.

"You gonna be OK with this? I'm guessing you'll know some people in there," Tank, ever the voice of reason asks, his head tipping toward the door.

"They're traffickers. Fuck em," Dom answers darkly.

"Grab whatever cover you can. Rider, you're it," Tank's deep voice commands and we scatter.

"Fire in the hole!" Rider grins, then pulls the pin off the gas canister with his teeth, kicks the door in and throws it, running to stand with his back pressed against the wall at the front of the hall. Dom is crouched behind a tree, Vic is across from me behind some type of outbuilding, Tank behind what looks like a kids' playhouse. A quick sweep of our surroundings shows Nitro on the left of the hall, Fox on the right, with me sheltered behind a small shed. I have no fucking clue what is inside, but I'm hoping it doesn't house some well-armed women willing to take me out.

Within moments smoke billows out of the hall doors, and with it men come flooding out. They may be coughing their guts out but they are also pulling weapons, holding them at the ready for a gunfight. We don't have the luxury of counting how many men we have to face off with, or talking them down in the hopes of a peaceful resolution. The first shot rings out from one of the Keep members, who has spied Tank's giant body in the playhouse. That single shot is exactly what we need to get this party started.

With the men surrounded, we start picking them off, one by one. Rider is proving lethal with his rear attack, confusing the dumb fucks. They fire wildly, no rhyme or reason. Some even take down their own brethren in a clusterfuck of bullets. It's like shooting fish in a barrel, and if I was a better man I'd feel bad about that. But I'm not, so I shoot at anything in white sneakers. I have kids to get home to.

The crowd starts to thin. Fewer men come charging through the doors, and I don't want to get too complacent thinking we have them all. There is only one door into the hall. There is an entrance into the meeting room where Marx and Pixie are, and the outside door to the meeting room, meaning there could well be men out the back of the hall if they've managed to make their way through Marx, which let's face it, he's a massive, feral fucker so their chances are pretty low.

Rider waves his hands around, first pointing to his eyes, then making a karate chop movement toward the door of the hall. Tank answers back in kind. It's easy to forget that these men are trained for missions like this with long histories in the military. To me, they're good men, family men, men who want to protect those they love. Remembering that I have these men at my back makes me want to call my sister and thank her again for stumbling into their compound that day.

Tank waves at me and the Landrys to stay put and watch their backs, Rider staying low and entering the hall, Tank going high, following in behind him, Fox and Nitro flanking the sides. I watch and wait, although I can't help the prickling feeling that I'm being watched myself. Turning from my place I'm met with a group of women huddled together, children clutched to them.

A tall woman pushes her way to the front of the group, holding her arms out to the side, as if to stop me from rushing them, or taking an interest in the children behind her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I say in a gentle voice, trying hard not to scare anyone. Although I'm guessing with the gunfire, it's probably too late.

"Save it, we've heard it all before," she scoffs, before looking me up and down. "Did Blanche send you?"

"Blanche is my woman." She narrows her eyes at my words and takes a step back, pushing the other back with her movements. "Shit, I mean, I belong to her. I'm here to help her achieve her vision."

"To get rid of the council and her father?"

I nod, slightly afraid I'll say something and fuck up again. She smiles, her stance relaxing slightly. "What of the men?"

Looking behind me, I watch for a moment as Tank and Rider exit the hall, giving us the thumbs up. "Looks like they're gone."

A brilliant smile crosses her face and murmuring behind her sounds more excited than afraid. Her smile falters when she looks over my shoulder, before she steps to the side, to get a better look behind me.

"Vic?"

"Loyal? Holy shit, I haven't seen you in years!" Vic steps forward in a rush, as if to hug her, but stops as soon as she flinches. "Sorry, just, I didn't know you were still -" He waves around before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, someone had to help your sister get these women out," she says with sass. Well, OK then.

"You've been her contact all along?"

She grins up at him before it falters slightly, "I, um, with everyone gone, I'm not sure where we should go," she points to the group behind her.

"We have networks, people and places that can help. Let me take care of it?"

She nods in reply and Vic looks toward me, and then his brother, before finding Loyal again. "Can you still remember what I taught you?"

She rolls her eyes, "Of course."

"Good, grab all you need, get in the Keep van and drive to the nearest town. We'll meet you there." They share a look, then Loyal rushes away, urging her group to follow her.

"Right boys, let's find my woman, get rid of Royal and Mercy and burn this fucking place to the ground."

Blanche

I have one councilman left sniveling in front of me. There's been no rhyme or reason to the order in which I've sent them to their maker, but I have to admit, leaving this one for last gives me a little thrill. Steadfast Cormier was the most vicious of all the men in Eden's Keep. His wives were always sporting bruises thanks to his "correction."

"Any last sins to repent, Steadfast?"

He turns to look me in the eye, then spits at me, hitting me in the cheek.

"You're a fucking slut, Patience, and you'll be treated like one when the Keep men come for you," he sneers at me, eyes burning brightly. I see the exact moment he realizes his words don't hit their target.

"May the Lord have mercy on your soul," I whisper in his gross, hairy ear, his head snapping back when my bullet hits it.

"Well, girl, you've got your eight men," Marx says, his hand gripping Royal's shoulder, keeping him in his seat.

He still has a cocky smile on his face, and I cannot wait to see that disappear. A bang sounds out in the hall, on the other side of the door. We wait for a beat and then gunfire surrounds us.

"Blanche," Marx barks, "Stand down. It'll be over soon,"

I stand stock still in the middle of the room. Marx yanks Royal up by the collar, bodily moving him and then shoving him into another chair, this one with a good view of the connecting door to the hall. He raises his gun and holds it steady. I move to the right side of him, aiming mine as well. If anyone decides to escape out the back, we'll pick them off as soon as look at them.

Holding strong the sound of gunfire lessens until it comes to a stop. My heart thuds in my chest, hands sweaty. What if we didn't win? What if something happened to Tav? To the rest of them? Shit, I feel dizzy. Fuck, get it together, Blanche! My mind screams at me to find three things that are blue in the room. I look around wildly, but all I can see is red. The red of blood, on the floors, on the wall. On my hands.

My body jolts like it's touched a live wire when someone thumps twice on the connecting door, "All clear, Pres!" a gruff voice calls out. I think it's Tank.

All the tension leaves my body at once and I try to lock my knees, to stop myself from falling to the ground in relief. Strong hands wrap around my biceps, Tav's smell invading my senses, calming me even before his voice reaches my ears.

"I'm here, Pixie, I'm here." Turning to look at my love, my eyes dart over him, wanting to check for injuries. When I see that he's unharmed I lean my forehead against his hard chest.

"I hope you have a backup backup plan," Rider sasses Royal, walking in with a cocky grin on his face. My brothers and the MC brothers all cram into the meeting room, all except Savage and Dex.

"Where are the other two?"

"Here Pres," Dex says, followed by Savage, silly grins on their faces.

"Where the hell were you when we were facing off against those brainwashed hillbillies?" Tank asks, flipping Royal the bird when he turns to glare at Tank.

"I had a feeling that he had something else up his sleeve," Savage answers, tipping his head toward my uncle dearest.

"And?" Marx growls,

"Threat neutralized. These fuckers had this place wired to blow fucking sky high," Dex throws a pile of wires and metal parts on the floor, and for the first time Royal is looking nervous.

"Are you ready for your turn, husband dearest?" I taunt, ignoring Tav's growl behind me. "I have something extra special planned for you."

Vic and Dom grab an arm each and yank Royal to standing. "Come on old man, let's go visit the Prophet, huh?"

They frogmarch him out the door, his feet cooperating before he decides to be a pain in the ass. He kicks and goes limp, my brothers almost dropping him.

"Fuck it," Dom growls and using their brotherly telepathy Vic takes hold of Royal's legs, Dom the top half.

They carry him through the compound to the Prophet's house, leading the way for the rest of us. There are women standing around, obviously having come out of hiding. They're looking bewildered, children cuddled into their bosom. They stare at us as we walk through, none of them asking who we are or what we're doing.

"This place gives me the creeps," Fox mumbles to Nitro, Nitro nodding his head in agreement.

"Not a tear has been shed for these men, either."

"Why would they? The bulk of their husbands were bullies and rapists," I say, catching the eye of one woman in the crowd. She gives me a smile and mouths, "Thank you." I give her a nod in return. I'm not sure what will happen to them without the menfolk, but that's a problem for a later date.

We round the last bend, following the path that my mother laid herself, the one that leads right up to the Prophet's front door. My brothers wrestle with Royal who hasn't stopped wriggling and sneering. I mean, I don't blame him. We've killed his men, his followers. His bombs have been found and Hammer is tucked up safely in the SUV. Unless he has the Cordoza Cartel hiding up his ass, there's no one to save him.

Finally, Dom has enough, wrestling Royal into a good enough position to punch him in the gut. "Stay still, fuckhead."

Vic snorts and then tips his head toward the door, his hands still full with Royal's kicking, twisting feet. Following Vic's head tilt, Tav steps forward and kicks the door in.

"Oh Daaaddyy! We're hoooome!" Vic calls out in a silly voice.

Dom and Vic carry Royal into the house, followed by Marx, Tav, and myself.

"We'll wait outside and watch the perimeter. There were some women out here I don't like the look of," Tank mumbles, turning to the rest of the men who nod.

Stepping into the living room of the house I grew up in, my eyes are drawn to Mercy Landry, lying in a hospital bed. There's a young girl next to him, clutching at a glass of water with a straw in it.

"Darling, why don't you go wait outside, yeah?" Marx offers, smiling at the terrified woman. She glances at Mercy, then Royal, before scuttling past us, headed for the door.

Tav brings forward one of the stiff wooden chairs from the dining room, placing it at the foot of Mercy's bed. My brothers dump Royal into it. Vic stands behind him and grips both of his shoulders, holding him down.

"Patience?" My father's voice is thready and weak, his eyes barely open as he peers at me from the angle at which he lies.

"Fuck, this is depressing. Dom, sit his bed up so he can see what's going to happen," Marx demands.

Dom nods once, then moves to look at the controls on the remote attached to the bed on a curly wire. His brows furrow, and he presses something. We wait for Mercy to sit up, however his legs raise up instead.

"Shit, wrong button, hold up," Dom mumbles, pressing something else.

"Dude, you've turned him into a V," Tav snorts, then coughs, trying to cover up his laughter when Marx gives him a stern look.

We watch for probably too long as my stupid brother fiddles with the settings, none of them putting Mercy in a good enough position.

"Fuck's sake," Marx growls under his breath, snatching the remote away from Dom, throwing it across the room only to have it come boinging back on the curly cord it's attached to. Thanks to their quick reflexes Marx and Dom both duck away. Mercy isn't as lucky.

I roll my lips between my teeth and try to ignore Tav's shoulders shaking. Even Vic is trying hard not to laugh, his mouth is tight, and he looks constipated.

Marx grabs some cushions off the couch, grips Mercy by the front of his shirt, pulls him forward, and ignoring the old man's protests he shoves the cushions behind his back.

"There, now get to it. We have more fuckers to deal with once these two are done."

My father wheezes before squinting at me. "It is you, my little girl. Patience. You look just like your momma."

"Who I imagine looks just like Lovely's momma," I mumble back.

"They were beautiful women, who created more beautiful women,"

"That you then passed on to your brother you sick fuck," I retort.

His white eyebrows fly up his forehead. He looks as if he's about to wind up and preach to me about how swearing is the devil's language or some shit.

"We're not here for a family reunion. I just wanted you to know that in a few moments, Eden's Keep will be no more," I indicate to Royal.

"What are you talking about? Royal will be the next prophet. I've been grooming him since I became ill. He will lead Eden's Keep, make it stronger, save more lost souls. It will be glorious," the old man smiles, a faraway look in his eye as if he can see this kingdom on earth he dreams of. The one that enslaves women and then sells their children.

"Are you sure Royal will be the next prophet, Father?" I ask innocently.

"Of course! The angels told me Royal will be the next to lead our people."

Standing behind Royal, I run my hands through the hair on his head before I grip it and yank it back. "Say goodbye, motherfucker," I whisper to him.

His eyes blaze at mine and he opens his mouth to spew vitriol, but he's interrupted by his brother and Prophet. Letting go of his hair, he straightens up, looking at Mercy.

"I always knew you would be the one who would lead my flock to salvation," he smiles at his younger brother softly, then his eyes widen in horror.

Mercy's mouth opens and closes and nothing comes out except an awful wheeze as he watches the scene in front of him. Royal struggles and scratches at my hands, trying to remove the garotte from cutting into his fat neck, but it's no use. With my knee propped on the back of the chair I'm leaning back with my full weight, the thin wire cutting through skin, fat, muscle and ligaments, stopping when it hits bone and Royal's hands drop to his sides.

An awful mewling sound leaves Mercy, his eyes wide, staring at me. I watch as his dreams, my nightmares, turn to dust in front of him.

"You, you, you-" he points a bony finger at me, too lost to even form the words he wants to say.

"Where are your angels now, father? Hmm?" I step up to the bed and grip his hand in mine, turning to look at my handiwork. "You disowned your sons, threw them out like trash, calling them weak and useless. You wouldn't stand up for me when I came to you time and time again to tell you of the horrors I endured at Royal's hands. No, instead you gave him another of your ‘precious' daughters. You blamed our stubbornness on the devil and called us weak. Well, daddy dearest, who's weak now?"

I tilt my head until I'm looking into his dark, soulless eyes. My hand finds the textured handle of my gun, the weight feeling right in my hands. I press the muzzle against his temple and look deep into his eyes, waiting for recognition that it was me, me who ended him.

"Goodbye Father. Give my regards to the devil."