"I just gave it to her," I murmured while finally daring to look at Swan again.

She knelt among the messed up sheets and blankets, now dressed in a pair of jeans and a sedate emerald green top. Her big blue eyes were filled with worry, and she had her hands fisted in the sheets tight enough to turn her knuckles white. With a start, it dawned on me that she was so freaked out because she thought the call was about a threat to her. And maybe it was. I doubted Veronica's death was a random act of violence. It might be a form of revenge. Whoever had stolen those missiles had to be fuckin' pissed about losing them.

Julia yelled to someone in the background, "Hey, I'm going to pick Smoke up from the airport at six. You mind watching the kids?"

Holding Swan's gaze, I tried to let her know that it was gonna be all right, that she didn't need to worry, but she only looked even more alarmed. Her attention kept darting to where her guns were stashed and I knew I had to get off the phone and calm her down. Taking care of her helped center me-simple as that.

"Gotta go. Love you."

She sounded distracted as she replied, "Love you too. I'll see you and Swan at six."

"Roger that."

I hung up and turned back to find Swan standing about two paces from me now. Damn she was sneaky, and quick. When her steel-blue gaze locked on mine, I sighed internally as I realized just how quickly she'd slipped into survival mode. While she was still stressed, she was done with me not telling her anything.

Sure enough, "Smoke, if you want me to be your wife you have to be on the level with me. What is going on? Tell me. I can take it."

My voice sounded tight and choked as I forced out, "Veronica was murdered last night on Hustler's back porch."

Her eyes grew impossibly wide and she pressed a hand to her chest like her heart hurt. "Oh my God, you're serious. How?"

"I don't know the details, but she was shot in the back of the head."

Tears glimmered in her eyes and she continued to press her hand to her chest. "That's awful. I'm so sorry."

Yeah, the whole fuckin' thing was heartrending on so many levels it made a Greek tragedy look like a romantic comedy. I was gonna break down soon, I could feel it nipping at my heels and even though I wanted to go mourn by myself, I also wanted to hold Swan while I let my grief go. I just worried that it would be too much for her to process, that she wouldn't understand that while Veronica was far from my favorite person, she was still my family and didn't deserve to be shot and dumped on Hustler's porch like a piece of garbage.

Swan took the decision out of my hands by pulling me gently back into bed with her. She sat with her back against some pillows and the headboard, then drew me down until my head was in her lap. I wrapped my arms around her legs and held her tight, closing my eyes at the simple pleasure of her playing with my hair. Flashes of my life with Veronica kept spilling into my head as I tried to deal with the fact that she'd never have the chance to enjoy the sensation of someone playing with her hair again. It was such a weird thing to focus on, but my brain seemed to be stuck on it, stuck on all the things Veronica would never experience. Shit had gotten bad with her over the last couple years, but at one time, before her bipolar disorder took over her life, she was a nice woman with a bright future.

The tears started of their own accord, and I turned my head to Swan's thigh, pressing my face against the warm cotton of her jeans and gripping her hips harder. She began to whisper sweet words of love and healing, trying her best to ease my pain. I can't tell you how good it felt to have someone who loved me hold me while I cried. Now I know some guys think it's a pussy thing to cry in front of their woman, but that's bullshit. Crying over the loss of a loved one isn't a sign of weakness, it's part of what makes us human.

Eventually, I wound up wrapped around Swan, tired and feeling empty. She watched me closely, petting me and loving me, easing my grief. With a soft groan I rolled over to my back, hauling her on top of me. She traced the bow of my lips then said in a quiet voice, "My heart aches for you and your family."

That squeezed another tear from me, and I held her tight. Loving the gentle give of her body and her warmth as she wrapped herself around me. I slowly relaxed, and my mind cleared. I held on to one absolute truth. As long as I had my woman, everything would be all right.

The flight back was uneventful. Beach had booked us first class seats and Swan slept most of the way, her head on my shoulder, while I stared out the window as the world sped by. We had to leave our weapons with Khan because taking that shit through airport security was impossible. I know Swan had been irked to leave her knives behind, but she didn't complain.

As we stood around waiting for our luggage, I kept a constant eye on my girl, making sure no one got too close to her or looked too hard. I swear guys were eye fuckin' her left and right. Not that I could blame them one bit. She was probably the hottest woman these gaping motherfuckers would ever see, but I made more than one man take a step back when I caught him staring at her a little too long. Swan was oblivious, busy texting her sister. She kept running her tongue over her lower lip, and I wanted to kiss her hard enough to make her melt. But I knew she probably wouldn't appreciate me mauling her in a busy airport, so I kept my hands and my lips to myself.

I tried calling my sister, but there was no answer, not that I really expected one. Julia never answered her cell phone while driving, so I sent her a text letting her know we were here and asking where we should meet her. By the time I was done, I noticed a guy approaching us out of the corner of my eye. I turned quickly, ready to knock someone right the fuck out if they messed with Swan, but I quickly recognized the man grinning at us. It was Cruz, a member of the Iron Horse MC and an old friend. With his full grey beard and large size he was a physically intimidating man, and Swan hung back, slightly behind me, as I introduced her to him.

Cruz shook my hand. "Smoke, sorry to hear about what happened to Veronica, man."

I stiffened, then nodded, not wanting to talk about it here in the baggage area. "Thanks."

He shifted uncomfortably, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans then sighed. "Damn shame. Anyway, Julia sent me to pick you up."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah everything is good. They managed to hunt down Tricks, and she was talking to him on Skype when I left."

My stomach clenched as I imagined the conversation my sister was having right now and the need to be with her and take care of her, dug into my gut.

While Cruz and I talked about what had been happening at the clubhouse Swan stayed slightly behind me, her gaze darting around as her body language broadcasted her increasing unease.

I leaned down, brushing her soft hair away from her ear to whisper, "You okay?"

"I'm okay," she whispered back. "Just...there's a lot going on."

While I wasn't sure if she meant what was going on around her or all the bullshit that we'd been through, I knew the limit of her tolerance for the crowd was reaching its peak. She'd worn a peach long-sleeve turtle neck along with a pair of dark jeans to cover as much of her skin as possible in order to avoid freaking out over the accidental brush of a stranger. Right now she'd pulled the cuffs down over her hands and had fisted the fabric, shielding her exposed skin as much as possible.

Cruz continued to go on about Los Diablos being a dangerous pain in the ass-something about them beating the hell out of one of our prospects-but I was more distracted by my worry for my baby girl than the threat of an all-out war between the two clubs.

I gave Cruz a hard look. "Why the fuck do they want to go to battle with us? They know they'll lose."

It was true. Not only was Iron Horse bigger than Los Diablos-our men were hand selected for not only their physical strength, but their quick minds as well-we could outmaneuver, outshoot, and basically crush Los Diablos if it came down to it. If drawn into a fight, losses would be great on both sides, to us and our allies, as well as to Los Diablos and their allies. The thought of my brothers and their families facing that kind of danger made my protective instincts go full out. As soon as I got shit settled with my family, I'd have to deal with this new hot fuckin' mess.

Swan moved away from me and I realized that while I was thinking our luggage had popped out onto the conveyer belt. As we gathered our bags, she was quiet, tense, and constantly scanning the crowd. Her big blue eyes met mine and the unease I saw there made the hair on my arms stand up. Before I could ask her what was wrong Cruz took her suitcase with a smile.

"Let me take care of that, darlin'."

Swan handed her suitcase over without protest, and I gave Cruz a hard look that let him know flirting with my old lady was off limits. My closest friends got away with it because they were cocky fuckers I knew would never make a real move on my woman. Cruz hadn't earned the right to smile at Swan like that. His gaze lingered on her breasts pressing against her peach shirt but before I could say anything, he looked away.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

I followed Cruz, the wheels of my suitcase bumping over the ground as we left the terminal and made our way to the parking lot. It was around ten o'clock at night, and the vast parking area was pretty much deserted except for the occasional random traveler off in the distance. The scent of Austin mixed with the smell of jet fuel filled me, and I was glad to be home. A few days ago, I'd been pretty sure that I would die trying to save Swan's life from some pretty fuckin' overwhelming odds. If we could beat those and come out the other side with our love stronger than ever, there was nothin' we couldn't do.

We stopped at a light blue mini-van with a 'My Child is an Honor Roll Student at Lake Travis High' bumper sticker on the back. I recognized it as Julia's mini-van and an ache of homesickness went through me. Knowing my sister was probably a wreck by now tugged at my gut, and I was eager to get to her. We stopped near the back while Cruz fumbled with the keys.

"Isn't this Julia's ride? Where's your Mercedes?"

Cruz owned his own lawn company that was doing pretty well if his lavish lifestyle was any indication. "Julia wasn't sure how much luggage you were bringing with you. My convertible isn't really built for hauling shit around."

Swan stayed by my side, scanning the parking lot. As I watched her I wondered how long it would take her to decompress and what I could do to help her deal with all this bullshit. Thankfully, I wouldn't have to figure it out on my own. Mike and Mimi were coming down to stay with us for a few days, and I wanted to take some time to sit down with them and talk. Sarah was also within driving distance, but I knew she has enough of her own shit to deal with at the moment, not to mention Beach. I'd be surprised if he let Sarah out of his sight ever again.

"Fuckin' trunk is stuck," Cruz muttered. "Swan, go ahead and have a seat inside while Smoke and I screw around with this."

After a moment's hesitation she nodded, and when Cruz opened the sliding passenger door for her, three things happened at once that turned my world into an absolute nightmare.

An unfamiliar man jerked Swan into the van and held a gun to her head. Two more guys spilled out of the trunk, with their guns trained on me, while a third quickly put a cloth over Swan's face. The two guys from the back of the van I recognized as Los Diablos members, kept their guns pointed at me.

"Don't you fuckin' move," the older guy with his salt and pepper hair and bad teeth snarled. "You so much as flinch in our direction and your bitch pays for it."

I desperately wanted to go to Swan as she struggled against her captors, impotent rage churning in my gut. She had gotten a couple of good punches in, but whatever they drugged her with soon slowed her movements. Her eyes locked with mine right before they rolled back into her head and went limp.

Cruz took a step forward, refusing to meet my gaze as he looked into the van. "My part's done. Where's the money?"

While that betraying bastard talked with whoever held Swan, the other two guys approached me with duct tape and evil intent in their gaze. I tensed to fight when the old man shook his head. "Don't be stupid. There is no way you could take on all of us. And even if you tried, we've got a couple of brothers in the lot waiting to shoot your ass. If you want to keep us from ass-fucking your girl until she bleeds while we ride to our destination, stow it and cooperate. Otherwise... "

Wrath filled me, making me vibrate with the need for violence, but we were well and truly fucked. The thought of Swan being raped pushed me dangerously close to the edge, but I knew I couldn't let go. I looked in the van and saw Swan was being held in the lap of some buck-toothed fucker who was currently grabbing a handful of her tit.

"Get your fuckin' hands off of her," I snarled.

The men laughed, but the older guy who was talking to me shook his head. "Sorry, you don't get to call the shots here. Demon'll keep his dick to himself, but I won't begrudge him a li'l feel of those big titties."

They shoved me into the back of the van, and I kept my gaze on the man holding Swan, who was now mauling her unconscious form. Disgust, rage, guilt, and the need to kill boiled inside of me. They secured my hands with a zip tie and put some tape over my mouth. My nostrils flared as I took a deep breath, already regretting that I went with them without a fight. There had to be something I could have done other than just giving up, but I couldn't let Swan pay the price for my rebellion. If I died she'd be all alone, so even though it went against every instinct I had, I didn't protest when they pulled a black hood over my head.

The last thing I saw was Cruz's guilty look before nothingness overtook me.

Chapter Nineteen.

Swan My mouth tasted terrible and I couldn't move.

Those were the first thoughts I had as I came back to the real world from the drug-induced slumber.

This being knocked out thing was really getting old.

As I struggled to open my eyes, bits and pieces of the last day came to mind in a confusing whirl of colors and emotions. I shifted and my extremities filled with pins and needles that cut through my disoriented thoughts. As I slowly surfaced, panic sped up my pulse rate, and the adrenaline in my system began to force everything awake.

Before I dared to open my eyes I listened hard, to see if I could hear anyone. Somewhere off in the distance there were faint voices, but nothing in here. The air had a musty smell to it, but no dampness, so I probably wasn't in a basement again. I gradually, carefully opened one eye and found myself staring at a pale green wall with a peeling wallpaper border that had old lady style roses embossed on it. A quick glance showed a battery operated lantern not too far away from me on an old blue milk crate. I slowly lifted my head, waiting for someone behind me to say or do something, but I appeared to be alone. My neck strained as I tried to see where I was and despair filled me. A small part of my heart had hoped that Smoke would be here with me, but I was alone.

It was quiet enough for me to be sure I wasn't in the city, but I thought I heard other faint sounds coming from somewhere in the house. For a moment, I imagined I heard a yell that sounded like Smoke, then nothing. Fear sat heavy in my chest and I strained to hear if it really was him but there was only silence.

Dreadful images of what they could be doing to Smoke right now, if he was still alive, tore at my mind and willpower. Without realizing it, I'd begun to struggle against my bonds, only to end up hurting myself as the zip ties chaffed my wrists. I was well secured to a folding steel chair and soon I slumped against it, my breath heaving out of my lungs as sweat trickled down my face. A boarded over window to my right let in a small amount of what I assumed was moonlight from outside, and from what I could see, it was still dark.

Something I was pretty sure was a generator of some kind roared outside, and I hoped that maybe I could use the noise to try and cover our escape-once I found Smoke.

I wanted to cry, to sob out my pain and hurt over the thought of anything happening to Smoke, but I managed to choke it back.

No, I had to hold on, had to save him.

With a renewed sense of determination, I began to shift my chair around, trying to minimize the scrape of the legs across the old wooden floor.

My senses were on high alert so when the squeak of the door opening filled the small space I froze, waiting to see what monster I had to kill in order to get out of here.

The person who came into the room was indeed a monster, but not the kind that I could ever kill.

No, this monster had my blue eyes, my blonde hair, and at one point, claimed to love me.

The monster was my mother, and she looked terrible.

Her once beautiful face had aged, making her appear haggard, like the wicked witch in a fairytale. She had scabs and open sores on her arms. When she smiled, I noticed that her once gleaming white teeth were yellow, and her gums had receded. Her appearance made her big smile all the more terrible, like some kind of insane clown from a child's nightmare.

She had tried to put makeup on, but her hand must have been unsteady because the black eyeliner that she normally wore was smeared over her eyelids and her lipstick was a bright pink slash on her surgically plumped up lips. She wore a short-sleeved shirt, with a plunging neckline, which showed off her abundant cleavage, but even the skin of her chest was damaged. As I watched she absently scratched at her forearm hard enough to peel one of the scabs off, but she didn't appear to notice.

I was so stunned by this zombie image of my birth mother that all I could do was stare at her. She came in and shut the door behind her while nervously licking her lips. When she leaned back against the dull wood and watched me, I became aware of a black cloth bundle clutched in her right hand and the fact that her pupils were pinpoint. I'd been around her enough while she was high to know that she was wasted right now. Far in the back of my mind, past the shock of my mother's appearance and betrayal, a cold, practical part of me was happy that she was here because she was way easier to overpower than any of the Los Diablos members who had abducted me earlier.

"Swan," my mother said in her husky voice. "I'm..."

When she just continued to stare at me with watery eyes I snapped. "You're what? Sorry that you had me kidnapped? Sorry that my fiance is probably dead right now? Sorry that you almost got Sarah and me sold into sexual slavery? Or is it because you used to beat Sarah for years? Maybe you feel bad for pimping Sarah out to a casino owner when she was sixteen. What part are you sorry for, mother!"

I was close to screaming and Billie crossed the small room, a panicked look on her face. "No, no. Shhhh. You have to be quiet. They don't know you're awake yet, and I want to help you. I'm going to make sure they don't hurt you."

Sudden hope bloomed within me. "Are you letting me go?"

She looked down at her hands and I noticed for the first time the track marks going up and down her arms among the scabs and scars. Oddly enough, she had massive bejeweled rings on every finger, the real kind, a fortune in jewelry on dried skin that looked like it belonged to a mummy. My stomach sank as she slowly shook her head, and I had to fight back tears when she looked back up, her apathy filling the air. She was utterly weak...defeated. Always so damn fragile. Even though I hated her for what she'd done, I also despaired at what she had become- a drug-addicted whore who would help in the kidnapping of her own child.

"No, Swan, I can't let you go. If I do they'll just find you again and take away my medicine." She ignored my bitter laugh at calling whatever she'd been taking 'medicine'. "This is for the best, really. The Chief wants you, and he's promised me that he'll keep you safe and take care of you as long as you behave. I think he has a crush on you."

She gave a girlish giggle, like we were just gossiping about cute boys, and the sound made my skin crawl.

"Who the hell is the Chief, and what the hell are you talking about? Are you trying to tell me some psycho wants to be my boyfriend? Is that somehow supposed to make me feel better? To know when he's raping me that my mom considers him relationship material?"

The familiar shutter came down behind her eyes, the almost visible wall that she put up around herself, when I was saying something she didn't like, so she could pretend she never even heard me speak. "He'll be here soon so you need to be good, please. Smoke is going to pay for messing everything up-the bastard. The others wanted to sell you, but Chief wants you for himself. Please don't make him mad. If you do, he might let them have you, and you do not want that. I've seen what they do to women."

She gave a hard shudder, her gaze haunted as I scrambled to understand what was going on. "So I'm supposed to play nice with Chief? Who is he?"

Billie seemed to drift away for a moment, her jaw slack and her hands motionless. I realized that she must have shot up right before she came into the room and hate filled me. Here I was, a prisoner and about to be given to some sadistic man as his toy, and if I displeased him I'd be handed off to a group of men to be raped to death. Perfect timing for my loving mother to escape reality and get fucked up.

A pang went through me at the knowledge that I might never see Mimi and my dad again, my real parents who loved me unconditionally. I had to shove away the deluge of emotions that accompanied that thought and refocus myself on my mother who was now brushing my hair off my face with a dreamy look. I tried to not show it, but my skin crawled at her touch.

"Swan, I can't say who he is, if I say who he is he'll lock me in a closet without my medicine and make me pay. He has a plan for you, and I can't tell you about it. But he won't hurt you. He promised, but you must cooperate with him. Do what he says and try to hold your tongue. His temper is...just don't get him mad, okay? He can give you a real nice life as long as you mind him."

"Have you lost your damn mind?" Desperate to reach her, to try and get past her drug-induced fog, I begged in a desperate voice, "Mom, please, help me get out of here. We'll run together, you don't have to stay here. You could be free."

The desolation in her red rimmed blue eyes, so like my own, killed what little hope I had. "You can't escape them. Ever. You'll just run from one devil to another. All you can do is survive and find beauty where you can. Like wild flowers in a garbage dump."

"But I have found happiness. Smoke loves me and I love him. We're going to build a life together."

The harsh grate of her laughter scratched along my skin. "Love? You think he loves you? I know Smoke and that psychopath doesn't love anything or anyone."

"No, you're wrong. He does love me and we're getting married." I sucked in a quick breath and tried to get through to her. "He's fought for me, killed for me, and he even stood up to Dad for me. He loves me."

From the bundle in her arms she brought out a bottle of water, opening it then putting a straw in before holding it to my lips. "Drink."

Arguing with her might have been an option if I wasn't suddenly so thirsty I'd drink a puddle of dirty rain water. After guzzling more than half of the big bottle, she pulled it away and offered me a few peanut butter crackers in silence, then some raisins. I ate them without comment as she hand fed them to me, arguing with myself that I needed the strength, that I couldn't allow myself to spit the meager food back at her.

Once it was gone, I stared at her, trying to find a drop of humanity to appeal to.

She licked her dry, cracked lips with a quick flick of her tongue like a lizard, then her gaze darted to the closed door. "Chief will be here soon and he'll want to touch you. I know it's going to hurt you since he's a stranger, so I brought you some medicine so you won't feel anything bad, only good. You're going to love it."