“Tomorrow will undoubtedly bring back ugly memories.” Kit rubbed her cheek, feeling the slightly raised line of the scar. “I want to put the PZ stuff behind me, but I need to hand out the money from the cave.”

“Bull or I would go instead, you know.”

Kit smiled. “You really are the bestest friend.”

“Then—”

“No. Bull probably wouldn’t even be allowed in. And the women might refuse to see a stranger, even you.”

This was also a rather questionable appropriation of funds. She wouldn’t risk getting Frankie or Bull in trouble for it.

And no staff would be in the room when she handed each woman her stack of bills. If any PZ or official found out about the money, Parrish might claim it, or the police would impound it. The women sure wouldn’t see any.

They were in the same boat as Kit. Savings gone. Belongings sold by their husbands. Like Kit, they needed a way to start over.

Kit would be the one going in. She just…didn’t really want to go.

No choice.

She’d have to suck it up and deal with her fears.

Hey, what was one more terror in the midst of so many, right?

Chapter Ten

Always remember to pillage BEFORE you burn. ~ Unknown

Midmorning on Thursday, Nabera heard a car door outside, then Alvin’s voice calling a greeting to someone.

Luka had arrived at the farm. It was about time the lieutenant showed up to explain what had come up.

Cell phones were useful, but the government was on the hunt. The libtards were sure the authorities didn’t eavesdrop, but Nabera knew better. The Feds spied on everyone.

His mouth twisted in bitter memory of the phone call he’d gotten last week. His men had been cautious with their wording, but the meaning was clear. The three men sent to retrieve the Patriot’s emergency cash had been ambushed by an overwhelming force of at least ten heavily armed men. The money was gone, and his men had been shot. Even worse, they’d had to draw from their limited funds. The doctor had to be bribed not to notify law enforcement of firearm injuries.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Nabera tugged on his black beard, frustration growing. What else could go wrong?

Word had reached him from Texas. The Prophet was still in jail, awaiting trial, and spending money on lawyers and bribes.

Nabera had really needed the money from the cave.

Then again, at least he was comfortable. The Prophet was locked up with no comforts. No women.

Both of them had enjoyed the rewards of being at the top with all the women available for their use. Nabera had been given the right to punish the unholy and disobedient. Sex was most enjoyable when accompanied by screams, sobs, and pleading.

Sometimes even death.

“Captain. How are you, sir?” Luka entered the kitchen.

“Good.” Nabera looked him over.