36. Halo

Sacrifice.

From its root words of sacer and facere, it means to make something sacred.

There are few things I've owned that felt sacred. My Navy trident. My cut.

And I can't think of anything more sacred than Arianne's and Lola's lives.

Even if the saving of them involves losing my own.

Fuck, I may well have already lost Switch. It feels like a lifetime since I dropped him in the cabin knowing Ari and Lola were only footsteps away. That head wound was gnarly as fuck, and I didn't have time to triage it because Bates was under fire, trying to provide cover so I could get Switch into some kind of safety.

We're positioned within the brick garage they set up as a rest spot on the side of the property. Footsteps on the gravel say my half-brother and his men are closing in, but I don't regret my choices.

If we'd stayed in the house, the only line they'd have to cross was the threshold. By remaining outside, we provide an extra boundary to the house. Plus, they're here for me, so being far away from Lola and Ari is a good thing.

"There are four around the rear of the cabin." My voice is a hoarse whisper as I accept the fact we're surrounded. There is a broken pane of glass, and I have my gun pointed through it, as I pray for a fair wind to get my brothers here with superhuman speed. "How many around the front?"

"I'm guessing six still alive. I'm out of ammo," Bates says. There is a knife in each of his hands as he sits on the floor, his legs out in front of him, a tight belt tourniquet cinched deeply into his thigh. Blood stains his jeans.

"Fuck," I curse. "I have three rounds left." The gunfight has been brutal. I'm pretty certain I got four. There is no doubt in my mind that if there is anyone in the house across the way, they'll have called the cops.

Not sure there is any getting us out of this.

And we need a fucking ambulance for Switch.

Or a hearse.

"Maybe they'll line up, one behind the other, so you can send the same bullet through three of them," he says.

I glance over at him and chuckle. It's not that I'm utterly unaware of the fragility of my life. But it's what I've always done. Live in the moment. Suck the life out of it.

Believe that you can live until the very second you can't.

Until that one second is your last.

Do I want to die? Fuck. I'm still here, trying to calculate odds. Trying to think of a way to rebalance the game in our favor.

I scan the garage with my flashlight. An oil drum. If there's anything in it, I have my lighter. But I can't burn the garage down with us inside. I search for something to fill, do-it-yourself Molotovs.

"What the fuck, King," I mutter. "You couldn't leave at least one beer bottle lying around?"

I could try pouring it, see if it trickles away from the brick.

But Bates can't run, even if I could create a diversion.

And what if any fire I create spreads to the cabin?

Tools?

There's a ladder. Some rope.

Nothing I can use as a splint for Bates's leg.

To the left of the garage is a narrow path down the side of the cabin. To our right is a heavily overgrown embankment.

"Hey, Bates," I say.

"What?"

"At least if we die, I won't have to watch you do all that ridiculous jump rope to stay in shape anymore."

There's a pause, and then Bates chuckles quietly. "Not ready to leave my girls yet."

It sobers us. "Yeah. Me neither. So, let's make sure that doesn't happen."

I glance down at my watch. I set the dial when King told me they were on their way. We've held them back for thirty minutes, but help isn't coming for another ten. Even if they break all the speed limits, I doubt it's going to be less than eight.

This isn't Bates's fight.

It's mine.

"I'm going to go buy us some time." We're surrounded. It's an undeniable fact.

"Don't you even fucking think about it," Bates says. His voice is so low, it registers like static.

"He's not going to kill me straightaway. He's going to want to mess me up first." I remember the last time I was tortured. It took seven hours until I was rescued. Lost three fingernails, had thirty-seven stitches, needed three months of leave, and required five mandatory hours of psychiatric evaluations to make sure I was ready to go back into the field.

If I could withstand that, I can hold my own for some number less than ten minutes.

"You don't know that. It's a death sentence."

"Would you do it if it were Avery in that house? Vi?" I ask.

Bates sighs and rubs his hand across his chin. "They can't get to them in the panic room."

I eye Bates. "But they can get to you." I hand him my gun.

Bates shakes his head. "Not fucking taking it, man."

The crunching gravel is getting closer. When I look out the window, I see three men coming from one direction and four coming from the other. Don't know where the others are.

"We're outmanned. Outgunned." I put my SIG by his leg. "And I'm not leaving with it. They're only going to take it from me as soon as they pat me down, and those three bullets might send you back home to your girls. Look after Ari and Lola for me if this goes to shit."

Tears rim Bates's eyes. "With my life. Do the same for Vi and Avery, yeah?"

"Call your old lady," I say. The words are raw.

Old lady.

I've got to live so I can make Ari mine.

Before I can let the emotions he's feeling seep into me, I stand and rearrange my knives. I put one into my boot. It's uncomfortable but might save my life down the line.

One I slide down the back of my jeans and make sure my untucked shirt covers it.

It strikes me that while this is the most practical outcome, me leaving Bates in the shadows with a gun, it's also a grand gesture of solidarity with a man I see as a brother.

But I make it anyway.

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.

Ari and Lola will live.

King will make sure they are taken care of and will see to it that everything of mine will become theirs.

"I'm more courageous in defeat than you will ever be in life. My brothers will see to it that everything you have built burns to the ground. And they'll piss on you before they set you on fire."

West grins. It strikes me that his smile is like Dad's. Slightly lopsided and thin lipped. "Maybe. But you won't be here to see it."

"Tell me one thing. What's in the sealed file? Is that what caused these daddy issues?"

The grin drops. As does his Adam's apple as he swallows deeply and looks around to see how many of his men might have heard.

"I mean, you don't carry this kind of anger as a full-grown adult unless your childhood was shit."

"Be careful, Brother."

"Or what?" I ask. "We both know you didn't tie me to this tree for shits and giggles. For the record, Dad didn't know about you, and you've clearly known about him for a long time. Why didn't you just come look for him like a normal person instead of this?"

"Where would the fun in that be? Anthony Flynn was a man without morals." West punches me again, this time in the stomach.

I bend forward as far as the cable ties will let me, unable to contain the gasp that escapes my lips. "Says the man who trafficks women."

"We've become a nation of men left impotent by society. Equality has left the country without a clear rule of order. The Bible and history have shown that a man's place is the head. Of the country, of business, of family. We're marginalized, and that decision is running the fucking country into the ground. Don't you see it?"

"Sounds like an incel manifesto, but go ahead."

"Your dad's part of the problem. Leaving kids without father figures around the country to be raised by their mothers or strangers who perpetuate the narrative that masculinity is toxic."

Fucker took the red pill. I raise my head and roll my eyes as I try to decide whether he's explaining his reasons or doing a shit job of trying to convert me. "Because this behavior is normal?"

"What you do is no better. You think I don't know that Bonnie and Clyde showed up at my sister's house tonight to take her?"

My heart stops and drops for a second. I hope nothing happened to Niro and Cat.

"Found the place empty because we're a step ahead of you Neanderthals."

I shake my head. "Pretty sure when you get back to Red Pill HQ in Texas, you'll find we're one ahead of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I don't tell him that King called on three clubs to head to Fort Worth to reinforce the local chapter and ransack the Brotherhood. They're killing members in their beds, burning down their properties.

"It means you'll never win."

"We'll see about that. Hurt him," West says as he steps back.

I barely have time to take a deep breath before fists make contact with various parts of my body.

One second.

Stay calm. Breathe.

Even as my cheekbones shatter and my ribs break.

I stifle the cries, until someone hits my kidneys with a Taser or cattle prod or some shit.

My teeth vibrate as the electric shock goes through me.

One second.

Suck in air.

Arianne.

I focus on her face.

The pressure of the ties around my wrists releases, and I feel something pressed into my palm. A knife handle.

I look around, expecting Bates to have crawled or some shit, but instead, it's Jax, who is already running away from the tree.

As I'm about to use the knife, a bullet hits a man standing just off to the left, and he slumps to the floor. A second hits the floor just by West's feet.

A third catches West in the calf, and he drops to the ground, rolling in pain.

Pain from my ribs fires through me as I make quick work to cut through the rope securing feet. My hands shake with the agony of it. But this is what Hell Week as a SEAL prepares you for.

There's a reason you almost die trying to become a SEAL. It's an early introduction to what the agony of being one in a live situation will feel like.

Vomit rises, and I spit it out as I try to calculate where the shots are coming from.

The cabin.

Switch must be alive, but I'm guessing his vision is blurred because the shots seem random.

In the chaos, men race for cover, and I'm just about to run to my half-brother to slice his throat when a bullet hits him square in the face.

For a second, I stand unable to move, holding my ribs.

The brother I never got to know but won't miss, is dead.

Even as I planned to do it myself, the event still shocks me.

Gunshots sound from the outbuilding where I left Bates. Four of them. I grab West's gun and start to run past the currently untouched cabin.

Bates only had three bullets in that fucking gun.

Four shots can't mean he's?—

One second.

One breath.

I collect my thoughts.

My heart races as I charge to him, my boots hitting the ground with a thud, the pain from my ribs bringing me one step closer to passing out.

A man flees from the outbuilding, and I shoot him with precision and zero remorse.

When I finally step inside, Bates and two other men are slumped on the floor.

"Fucking luckiest miss," Bates says as he sits back up and points to a burnt-out hole in the wood framing, four centimeters from his head.

"This is going to hurt," I say as I manhandle him to his feet. We're a similar size, but I have the edge in weight and strength. Although that means nothing with the way my ribs feel like they're about to pierce my lungs.

"Fuck," he says through gritted teeth.

"I'm getting you in the house. Just fucking hold on, and fire when I say." I hand West's gun to him.

And then the sweetest fucking sound I've ever heard in my whole life breaks through the chaos.

Motorcycles.

Two of them.

I lean Bates against the wall to glance through the window and see Niro and Catalina drive straight into the clearing, weapons raised.

While I'm happy to see them, I'm happier still to see their ammunition.

I keep out of sight as they orientate themselves. Accidental shootings are a thing. Don't want them thinking I'm on the other side. I've survived enough tonight, so I watch through the window.

More bikes arrive, and I step out, trying to wave one of my brothers over.

Saint is the first to see me and drives over. "You look like shit."

I go to wipe my face, but I remember my nose is probably broken as soon as I touch it. "Motherfucker." I point behind me. "Bates is in there, and Switch is in the house; both need a hospital."

"By the look of it, so do you."

"I need to get to Ari."

My body shakes from the pain and adrenaline. Each step toward her becomes harder and harder to make. There's a rainwater barrel, and I dip into it, splashing water on my face, no matter how much it hurts, because I don't want Ari to see me covered in blood.

When I'm confident I'm not going to scare her, I step towards the door.

Raising my hand to show three fingers takes the last of my energy. My hand on the doorframe is the only thing keeping me standing.

The door opens in two seconds, and Ari is in my arms.

"Gentle, Ari," I gasp as I hold her to me.

She loosens her hold, and I see her tearstained cheeks. "How badly are you hurt?"

"I'll live," I say. Although it might take a little while to feel human. "But there was a moment when I thought I wasn't going to be able to do this again." Gingerly, I cup her cheeks and kiss her. It's messy because I'm breathing hard, and my face is still wet.

And it's everything I survived for. The sight of her. The smell of her. The feel of her wrapped around my broken body. I revel in every glorious, painful minute of it.

Every single emotion I've buried hits me in a maelstrom. Fear I was going to die. Loss that I'd not get the future with Ari I longed for. Shame that my brother could cause so much destruction. Fury that Jax died for nothing, getting killed in the crossfire. Terror that something could happen to Ari and Lola. Dread that Switch is, at best, brutally injured, or at worst, dead.

My heart beats uncontrollably as my arms and knees shake.

The pain of my injuries slices through me.

And Ari clings to me through all of it as she bursts into tears. "I'm so sorry it took me so long."

I run my fingers through her hair. It comforts me as much as it soothes her. "So long to do what?"

"I had to get Catalina to show me how to use a gun, and then I couldn't see what was happening and I was scared I was going to hit you by accident. I should have shot them sooner."

I step back and look at her. "What?" I glance over to the safe room, which is locked. "Why are you out here? What are you?—"

Then it all suddenly makes sense. There's a Glock on the small table by the window. And a blood trail to the safe room.

Holy fuck.My stomach drops, even as I take in her bravery.

"You dragged Switch in there and then stayed out here and shot those men."

Ari nods, tears still falling. "But I let you get hurt first because it took so long. And I missed. I think. I don't know how to aim so I'm not even sure what I hit. It all went so fast. But I ran out of bullets, and then I heard the bikes."

Thoughts come too fast to process. The chances she took. The bravery and courage it required of my sweet girl. "You saved my life, Ari."

"I saw them walking you somewhere on the cameras. I couldn't sit in there and do nothing. Did I kill anyone?"

I want to tell her how grateful I am that she killed the man who would hurt us. But surely carrying the weight of killing my half-brother will cause lasting guilt. A trauma she'll find it hard to recover from. Whereas one more death on my conscience will barely register. Instead, I dodge the question. "You created the perfect diversion, sweetheart. It gave me enough time and distraction to make sure we wouldn't be targeted again. Where's Lola?" I ask as King and Clutch join us.

"An ambulance is on its way," King says, interrupting us. "Where's Switch?"

"In there with Lola. She was waking up, though. I placed a blanket over Switch so she hopefully wouldn't see his wound."

"Shit. Is he dead?" Clutch asks.

"Not when I last checked," Ari says. There's a waver to her voice, and I pull her close, even though I feel like my broken ribs are piercing through my skin. The feel of her is the only thing cutting through the noise in my head. I'm still alive. I made it.

All those medals and commendations and tours and victories and lives saved, but none of it felt as visceral as this moment.

King reaches the panic room, enters the code, and we're met with the sounds of Lola's cries. Clutch grabs Lola and hands her to Ari, who lets go of me to cuddle her tightly. "It's okay, Lolly," she soothes.

"Come here," I say to Ari, and I tug the two of them into my arms, leading them away from Switch and my brothers.

"It's over. And you helped save us," I say, kissing the top of her head.

She falls against me, and I wrap her tight to my chest, because the pain is nothing compared to the ecstasy of knowing I have Ari for the rest of my life.