Prologue

Willow Fork, TX

Jared Burch knew it was a stupid idea to hole up on the devil's land, but he didn't have anywhere else to go.

It was what they called Jack Barnes around town. The devil. His own mother claimed the man had been put on the earth to lead people astray. Jared had met the man, but it had been years before when he'd been a normal kid. Before his dad had died and his mom had married his stepfather. It was sometimes hard to believe there had been a time before Ezekiel Smith, that he'd had something of a childhood where he'd played with kids who lived close to him, and his whole world hadn't revolved around pleasing one man.

He hadn't managed to do it today.

He'd run, and the wrong way in his complete panic. He'd known his stepfather would follow him and use the shotgun on him if he didn't get out fast enough. After all. before he'd been kicked out, his stepdad had set his brother and stepbrothers on him. It had only been after they'd given him a walloping that Ezekiel Smith had delivered his judgment. Banishment.

Now he found himself on the outer range of Barnes's land. He seriously doubted the stories about Abigail Barnes being some man-eating siren, but he could believe Barnes could be ruthless. Not that he believed the crap his stepfather shoveled about Barnes. It was the twenty-first century, but sometimes he believed Willow Fork was stuck in 1892 or something.

He was absolutely certain his parents were since they'd chucked him out of the house for being a bad influence on his siblings. There were three of them. One older and his full brother. Two stepbrothers who were older. He was the baby of the "family" and yes, he put quotes around the word because they sure as hell hadn't felt like family today. Maybe not since the day he realized his older brother believed everything their stepdad taught them. Billy was one of them now, and he'd proven it mere hours before.

Jared shivered in the chill. Autumn in Texas meant hot days and chilly nights.

It wasn't fair. Anger warred with a deep sense of sorrow as he made his way across the flat plane that would hopefully lead him to the main road. He thought it would, but nothing had gone right today. All he'd done was dared to stand up to his stepfather. This time when his stepfather had punched, he'd punched back.

And then his stepfather told his brothers to defend him, and they'd given Jared a beating he was still recovering from. His brothers. His only friends.

It wasn't like he was allowed to play with other kids. Not that he was a kid. He was sixteen, and he barely had an education that would get him any kind of job. School wasn't important to his parents, and they'd made him drop out two years before. "Homeschool" had meant working on their ranch, reading the Bible, and learning not to talk back or have a single thought that went against their father.

And stay away from those heathen Barnes-Fleetwoods.

Well, he couldn't now unless he wanted to walk twenty miles, and damn it, it was starting to rain.

When his stepfather had tossed him out without a dime to his name, he hadn't exactly offered a ride. So Jared had started walking. He'd jumped the fence separating his stepfather's land from the devil's because there had been nothing else to do. He had to make it to town, and this was the fastest way.

Damn, it was getting cold.

He'd found one of the outer buildings the Barnes-Fleetwood ranch hands used when they got caught on the range after dark. Or when they were babysitting the herd.

His stepfather would have shoved a tent his way and told him to make do.

This place was kind of a palace compared to what he was used to.

He would get warm and be on his way.

The door opened easily. No lock, like what his stepfather put on every building and many of the rooms in their house. There was a lock on the pantry and the fridge, one on the room with the only television because his stepfather believed no one else could be trusted to watch and not to be tempted by the outside world.

Sometimes he blamed his real dad for everything. One day he'd been okay. Sure he was poor, but they'd gotten along. And then he'd died and his mother joined the most extreme church she could find, and now he was homeless because he didn't respect authority.

He wasn't sure there would be one, but he felt for the switch and breathed a sigh of relief when soft light illuminated the shack. Shack? It was a small house. Like one of those tiny ones he'd seen when he'd been in school. Sometimes he would see magazines or get time in the library on the Internet. He knew things, and he knew this was a nice place.

It wasn't his place, though, and he needed to get warm and get out before morning when Barnes would surely figure out someone was using his land. There would be a price to pay if he got caught. There always was.

Barnes was mean, according to the people around him. Barnes had more than once threatened his stepfather.

Sometimes Jared wished Barnes would have taken his stepfather out.

He shoved the thought away because he was too tired to be mad tonight. He ached. Every muscle felt weary after the trudge across the miles that separated his ranch from Barnes's.

Not his. It had never been his.

This ain't your home. Get out. If you call the cops, you'll get more of what you had tonight, boy.

And his mother had stood there, tears in her eyes, but she'd not said a word to defend him. His brothers had made sure he didn't take anything that didn't belong to him—and it had been made clear almost nothing belonged to him.

He found a bottle of water and sucked it down before shoving three more into his almost-empty backpack. He had a pair of worn jeans, two plain white T-shirts, and socks that had seen better days.

There was food in the cabinet. It was tinned stew, and he ate it cold because he didn't know how to cook it. Boys weren't supposed to do things like that. Women's work. When he'd tried to help his mom, he'd been smacked and told to be a man.

So he ate it cold and then stole the rest of that, too.

He should move on, but the cot looked so cozy. The cot looked like paradise. He wasn't even sure where he was going. He didn't have any friends. His brothers were the friends God had provided. There wasn't a homeless shelter in Willow Fork. He would have to make his way to a larger town. Godless Tyler probably had a place for people like him. Maybe.

He couldn't think about it tonight.

He turned off the light and lay down on the cot, pulling the blanket over him. He would rest his eyes for a moment. Maybe half an hour, though he wasn't sure how he would tell time since he didn't own a watch. His stepfather gave his brothers watches when they were deemed responsible enough. Until then, time, his stepfather said, didn't matter.

So it didn't matter. His sixteen years on earth didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

He yawned and his eyes closed.

Nothing mattered at all.

Jared stirred at the sound of hushed voices talking.

"Is that who I think it is?" a deep voice asked.

"Sure looks like Jared, though it's been years since I saw him up close," another voice said. "You know the kids call him Grim now."

He stayed as still as possible, panic threatening. He knew they all called him Grim. Because he didn't talk much, didn't join in on the laughter even with his own brothers. Laughter was paid for with pain in his household.

"I heard he dropped out," the voice continued, "and we haven't been in school together since his momma quit her job at the resort. He moved over to the public school. You're a snooty rich pants who went and built a whole school so Livie and I weren't around the riffraff."

There was a snorting sound. "Sure. I did it to keep you in your societal class."

"I know why you did it, Dad." This voice was younger, somehow, and softer now. "You protected us. If he is who I think he is, you protected us from his asshole brothers. Don't. I'm working today. If I'm on the range punching cows, I get to cuss. And that is a family full of assholes. But Jared's a good kid, from what I can tell. I know I liked him when we were younger."

"He was your best friend in preschool and the cause of one of the weirdest parent-teacher meetings I ever had to sit through," the deeper voice continued.

"We don't run in the same circles now. I'm pretty sure his stepfather doesn't let him be friends with anyone outside that cult of his, but Sarah and Jess told me they broke down a couple of months ago and he stopped and fixed their car for them. Said he seemed kind, but his brothers aren't."

Jared kept still. Joshua Barnes-Fleetwood. The golden boy of Willow Fork, Texas. He was known for being a bit wild, and every teenaged girl in town wanted to be with him. Some of the adult women, too, if the rumors were true. Josh, who had been his friend until his momma lost her damn mind and sent them all to hell while she was desperately searching for heaven.

Hopefully the other voice was Sam Fleetwood. Please don't be Jack Barnes. Please don't be Jack Barnes.

He'd screwed up. He'd fallen asleep, and now he would likely go to jail or worse.

Or worse… Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. What the hell had life shown him that was good?

"He's awake," the deeper of the two voices said with a sigh. "Jared? Son, are you all right?"

Who could have thought the devil could sound so kind? But then he'd had a couple of encounters with the woman his stepfather called a Jezebel, Abby Barnes, and she was the single nicest person he'd ever met. He'd scraped his knee up real good once at a park, and she'd helped him. She'd explained how to take care of the wound and to tell his momma what had happened.

Then she'd bought him an ice cream cone, and he'd never told anyone how nice it had been. Even with his knee aching, he'd loved sitting in the park with that kind woman and her daughter and eating ice cream and feeling like he was normal for once.

The devil lied. Wasn't that what everyone in his church group believed? Hell, Barnes was right. There was church, and that was a normal thing. Church was often a good place to be. What his stepfather was involved in was a cult, and they preached the devil lied and misrepresented himself and cloaked himself like a righteous man at times.

Maybe his stepfather was the devil.

Or maybe his stepfather was simply a man with hate in his heart.

Jared could run. He could fight. He could believe the world was as nasty a place as Ezekiel preached and never open himself up to it.

Or he could ask for help, and if Jack Barnes wouldn't give him any, then at least he would have tried.

Slowly, he sat up, his face heating when he saw the backpack on the floor. It was raggedy, and one of the cans of stew had fallen out. There was a big man in jeans and a T-shirt, and a Stetson covering his dark hair. And a slightly smaller, younger version of the man beside him. Jack and Josh.

"I'm sorry for stealing, Mr. Barnes." There was a certain amount of resignation in his soul. Whatever happened next, he would take it. If Barnes called the sheriff, at least he would have a place to stay.

"The food is out here for anyone who gets stuck overnight," Barnes said.

Josh's lips curled slightly. "I think technically Grim here probably felt pretty stuck. Did you get lost?" Josh tilted his hat toward his father. "Don't be afraid of him. He's a big old teddy bear when it comes to strays. Did your stepdad finally kick you out? Everyone around town knows you're the only one with a lick of sense in your family, so it was inevitable. Is he the one who gave you the shiner?"

Grim. He'd hated the nickname, but it sounded right coming out of Josh's mouth. It didn't sound mean coming from him. And what had he meant by everyone in town thought he was the sensible one? His stepfather and brothers always told him how dumb he was. He touched his left cheek and winced. "I told him I wanted to go back to school. He disagreed with me. I tried to tell him I could make my own decision. He took exception to that."

"It looks like he beat the shit out of you," Josh said, and his father winced but let it go.

"Do I need to get the sheriff involved?" Jack asked, looking a whole lot like Jared's nickname.

The thought had Jared getting to his feet. "No, sir. I'll be on my way."

"Grim, he wasn't going to call them on you," Josh said, his expression serious. "He was going to report your stepdad, but if he did protective services would be notified and then we have to worry about you going into the system because I don't think your momma is going to stand against her husband."

"No, she won't." Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. If he had a roof over his head and food in his belly, it might not be terrible. But he doubted his stepfather would accept the outcome. "He would find a way to get me back and… I don't know if I'd survive the next beating."

Barnes was quiet for a moment, then looked to his son. "You got any problem with what I'm thinking?"

Josh smiled and seemed to light up the small space. "You and Pops have been worried about him for a long time. He seems like he could use some help. And you know Mom and Livie will have a ton of fun buying him clothes." He grimaced. "Sorry, buddy, that will be a nonnegotiable fact of life."

"The truth is your mother has also been worried about what went on in that house. She tried to tell Margie she could come to us if she needed help, but I think she's too scared."

Mrs. Barnes had worried about his mom? "She is, but it's more than being afraid of my stepdad. She's sure if she doesn't do what he says, she'll go to hell."

A long sigh came from Barnes's chest, and kind green eyes pinned Jared. "I'm sure your stepfather's said a lot about my lifestyle. I need to know if you're afraid of me, son. I'm going to ask if you would like to stay here for a while, but I don't want you to be afraid to say no. I'll still help you, but I'll find someone you feel more comfortable with."

Now that he was standing in front of the man, he wasn't afraid at all. He remembered how Jack Barnes would come to the little school room out at the resort his mom had worked at and play with the kids. He would take them all out to the stables and let them see the horses. "You've been kinder to me in five minutes than my stepfather was my whole life, Mr. Barnes. But taking me in could cause some trouble for you. If he knows you're helping me, he'll likely try to force me to come home."

"Let me worry about that and you worry about the two women who are going to make you over." Barnes shook his head. "They'll probably try to force you into dress shoes."

"Yeah, you should think this through, Grim," Josh joked with a grin.

But he was tearing up. All of his life he'd looked over the fence separating his stepfather's land from the Barnes-Fleetwood Ranch, and while his stepfather preached heavily against the family, the well-kept fence seemed like a barrier to a better life.

Suddenly he didn't mind the nickname. Grim was what he was most of the time, what he felt when he'd looked over that fence and saw Jack Barnes and Sam Fleetwood riding across their land, laughing and joking with their ranch hands. What he felt when he saw Abigail hugging her kids like they were her whole world and he knew no one would hug him because affection spoiled a child.

His stepfather had always told him this world didn't matter. This world was only a way to get to the next.

But everything good seemed to be across that fence, and now he'd been invited in.

"I could work." He didn't want the man to think he would be a layabout. "I've worked my stepfather's ranch since I was a kid. I know what to do. I could be one of your hands."

Barnes stepped up, clasping Grim's shoulder. "You will, but only the way Josh works. Part time, and no cussing if you're not working. At least not around Mrs. Barnes. You'll go back to school with Josh and Olivia. I know this will be hard to believe, but I have been worried about you, son. Sam, too. We've talked more than once about what we would do if you came to us and needed help."

"Why?" Such a simple question, but it was the whole world to him.

"Because we've needed help before," Jack replied. "I've been in your shoes. I've had nowhere to go and no one to depend on. I've been hungry and scared, and I'll be damned if I let another kid go through that alone. Like I said, you are welcome to stay here. Not as a worker. Not as a guest. If you want, this can be your home, or I'll find you a place somewhere else if you want out of this town. If you want a fresh start, I'll find a good place for you in Dallas or Austin."

"I don't think I ever got started here, Mr. Barnes." Or rather he had and then he'd gotten off track. He'd been young, but he still remembered how it felt to be Josh's best friend.

Was it wrong to want to see if they could be friends again? Would he be a burden to all of them?

Josh held out a hand. "I know this is going to sound weird to you, but I always knew somehow we would be friends again. Come on up to the house and we'll get some real food into you." He shook his head his father's way. "What is wrong with you, old man? Tinned beef stew? No wonder you can't keep ranch hands."

Grim braced for Barnes to erupt. If he'd talked to his stepfather like that, it would have meant an immediate beating.

Instead, a grin broke over the man's normally placid face. "Sure, son. You know I can't get rid of them. We're all old men now. I need some youth. I want to live up to my reputation and start running this place like Yellowstone."

He didn't know why Mr. Barnes would run his ranch like a national park, but as they joked, he felt himself relax.

Maybe, just maybe, it would be okay.

* * * *

Childswood, Oregon

Eight years later

Nora Holloway stared at the body, the vision not quite reaching her brain. It wasn't real. Because if it was real, then her husband was dead on the floor.

The idea of his death didn't spark sorrow because he was an abusive asshole she planned to divorce.

Don't think you can leave, Nora. You have nothing. I'll ruin you.

He'd already ruined her.

He'd ruined her the day he'd married her and brought her into his hell.

"Micah?" His name came quietly out of her mouth as though she didn't want to wake him. She didn't. He was sleeping. Or maybe she was and this was a dream.

Micah's body didn't move. He was face down on the living room floor, a pool of blood forming around his body.

How was this a shock? She'd always known he would come to a bad end, but somehow she'd thought she wouldn't be here to witness it. She would either have found a way out or he would have killed her.

"Damn, but you are a lovely woman," a deep voice said. "Even standing there over my brother's dead body, you still manage to look hot."

She turned, fear coursing through her. If there was one person she feared more than Micah Holloway, it was his older brother, Ted. Ted stood in the hallway leading to the magnificent foyer of the McMansion Micah had first brought her to three years before. He'd carried her over the threshold, and a few weeks later he'd smacked her for the first time. This beautiful house had become a cage. Ted was taller than Micah, his features darker. He was the head of the family, though his father was still alive. He'd taken over the family company and ruthlessly pursued money and power. His wife was a shell of a woman who knew how to smile without a light in her eyes, when to nod and agree.

Nora had known that was exactly who she would become if she stayed, but now she feared she'd waited too long.

Or maybe he would be reasonable. "I don't know what happened. I walked in and he was here. I was out having dinner with friends."

A brow rose over Ted's dark eyes, and he looked far too calm for a man who had found out his only brother was dead. "Were you? See, I don't think you were. If you were out with friends, then you would have an alibi for this mess we find ourselves in. But if, say, you were out at the lake house practicing with the .22 you bought illegally, then no one would know because you didn't want anyone to know."

Her heart threatened to seize. She'd been quietly taking self-defense classes, and she kept the gun in a locker at the gym. She'd run it by before coming home because she didn't trust Micah not to go through her things. "How do you know that?"

One big shoulder shrugged. "Because I had someone follow you. That was how I knew the timing was right. You see, my brother has been a liability for a long time, and now he's run up debts with some nasty people, and I'm fairly certain the feds are about to come after him."

Her breath caught as she realized he was holding a gun in his gloved hands. A familiar-looking gun. "You killed him."

"I did what I had to in order to protect us all," Ted said, coming into the light for the first time. He looked neat and tidy in his three-piece suit. Like a man who'd merely stopped by after a long day at work. "And by us, I do not mean you."

The implications twisted through her brain. "You're going to tell everyone I did it? How did you get my gun? I just left it."

"Yes, there will be footage of you walking into the ladies' gym roughly twenty minutes after Micah was killed by a .22 caliber pistol." He held the gun up. "This one, but the cops will find yours exactly where you left it, and they'll discover you've fired a pistol in the last twenty-four hours."

Her hands started to shake. "Why are you doing this?"

"What—killing Micah? Because he's a dumbass. Or setting you up? Because cops like a neat and well-explained crime. You've been talking about leaving. You've whined about Micah hurting you to whoever will listen. So here's what I'm thinking. You could try to tell the cops I'm the one who spent months setting you up. I have an ironclad alibi, by the way. Good luck since you'll be dealing with a public defender. No more money for you, honey. Or you could decide to plead self-defense and again, good luck with that. Either choice you make, no one's looking my way and the feds no longer have a target."

"I'm not letting you do this to me." Outrage sparked through her, but she had to also remember he was a dangerous man. How easy would it be for him to say he walked in on her and she attacked him like she had his brother? He had to take her down.

"Or, you could take the bag sitting on the bar, get into your car, and run."

"So you can hunt me down?"

Ted shook his head. "Why would I do that? If the police find you, there's some small chance one of them will believe you. It's better if you're simply not here. If you're on the run, the focus remains on you. See, that's what I call a win-win. I mean except for Micah, but then this is what happens to dumbasses who don't listen to solid advice and embezzle a shit ton of cash so he can try to pay off his mob connections. I'm afraid my brother likes to gamble."

How was this happening? Surely this was some nightmare. "Are you insane?"

"No, I'm quite of my right mind, Nora. And I think I'm being rather kind giving you this shot. That bag has everything you need. I know you have access to another car. You were planning on running anyway. I assure you Micah wouldn't have handed you a bag with ten thousand dollars cash and a couple of burner phones and a credit card and false ID you should change as soon as possible. I want to give you a day or two to get as far as you can. Unless you want to come to a different arrangement." He was too close now, and the hand not holding the gun came out as though he wanted to touch her.

She stepped away.

His hand flattened out, and he gave her some space. "No? It might not be so bad. You could be my dirty little secret. I'm not as violent as baby brother here. The current situation notwithstanding. I don't feel the need to smack my woman around. Too much effort. It's better to find a damaged one and bring the bitch to heel. But since you won't have to be out in public…"

God, he was really doing this. He had her in a neat trap, and she couldn't think of a way out. She only knew one thing. She wasn't giving in to him. "I assure you if you try to lock me away, I'll make what you did to Micah look like a restful evening."

"There's the spark I knew you had. I know you won't believe me, but I always knew you were too good for my brother. Let's see how long you can last. You should run."

So she did.