So that was how they knew Zion had left. I didn’t think they’d be smart enough in the first place or fucking sober enough, but I was wrong.

“Plans change. I knew this fucker wouldn’t just walk out the door with us,” Henry said, scratching his arm with the gun.

“I won’t let this happen,” Samantha screeched, rocking back and forth on her feet.

Henry snorted. His eyes darkened as he smiled. “Like you have a choice. Now move, bitch.”

“Move, Samantha,” I said softly. She was a shit mother, but she proved she had a small amount of feelings for me trying to stop this shit.

She shook her head over and over and then stilled to yell, “No, I won’t. I’m not moving. You said he’d be roughed up a bit not—”

The gun fired. I dove for the ground, and in the next blink, I saw Samantha’s body on the floor with a hole in her head.

A boot connected with my gut hard. I coughed out a breath, but I couldn’t look away from the body.

From my mother.

He shot her.

Shot his wife.

“Why?” I asked harshly.

Henry laughed. He bounced up and down as if happy he’d just killed her. “It’s my way. My way. I was sick of her bitching and whining. Now I’ll get what I want and won’t have to listen to her.”

I got to my knees, with three of them standing around me after one of the guys dragged Samantha’s lifeless body out of the way. “She was your wife.” White-hot fury burned me inside.

He chuckled. “You stupid little faggot. I only put up with her for so long because she was easy and gave it up to anyone who’d give us drugs.”

I ground my jaw together, fisted my hands, and it was the first time I’d thought of murder. I wanted his life gone. I wanted his blood on my hands, and I would get it.

It may not be possible now, but if so, I’d relish in it.

“Wallet, PIN, card, now,” he ordered, scrubbing a hand over his oily hair and then down his face, only to do it again and again.

Wallet.

My fucking wallet where I kept one of Death’s alarmed pins. Standing, I said, “I’ll get it.”

He hummed under his breath. “Good boy.”

“Do not call me boy,” I snarled.

Henry chuckled, so did the other two fuckers. They moved aside and followed me into the bedroom. I listened to their comments about how sick it was that I was with a guy while I snatched up my wallet from the bedside table, opened it, and took out the pin from the back pocket. I switched it on and hit the alarm before taking out my card. Turning, I dropped the pin to the bed behind me, hoping they didn’t see it while I handed over the card with my other hand.

“Here,” I said, and gave him the digits to gain access. I didn’t give a fuck if they took everything. I just wanted them out of the house in case any of the neighbors called the cops, and then Zion would be notified, and he’d come home. I couldn’t risk him… even when I knew they wouldn’t leave without hurting me. At least I knew Death would come with reinforcements.