“I know…but he wouldn’t.” Her face was permanently somber now, the high of liberation gone the second we’d left Bethany behind. Once the action and excitement were over, she was filled with sadness. Maybe even a little guilt. “He…wouldn’t.”

“Even if you’re right, there’s only one person who could have done it.” Fender would figure it out even if Magnus lied. I was the only other free person who had escaped the camp, and I certainly wouldn’t have done that alone.

She stared at the TV with a blank face. “The camp doesn’t exist. The girls are free. The drug enterprise doesn’t exist. There’s nothing for them anymore. They’ll move on.”

I knew Fender better than anyone. “He’ll want revenge.” And I wouldn’t be able to protect her this time.

“Then he can come and get it,” she whispered. “I have no regrets—and I never will.”

Four

Disloyal to Loyalty

Fender

In the center of the bed, I lay still.

The fire had died out, my bedroom engulfed in shadow.

My eyes were on the ceiling, the chandelier that was twenty feet above me, the crystal having a faint shine from the lights coming in from the property outside. Sleep was a luxury I didn’t enjoy anymore, no matter how hard I worked, how hard I drank.

My phone rang on the nightstand.

I almost didn’t answer it because this cloud of indifference hit me right in the heart. But I reached for it and answered in silence.

Chaos was loud over the line. Screams. Orders being barked out. “Stop them!”

I sat up. “What the fuck is going on?”

It was Karl, not Magnus. “We’ve been hit. Camp is on fire. The girls are loose.” He was out of breath, like he was running from something that very moment. “We can’t save the cabins. They’re all torched.”

I jumped out of bed and grabbed my clothes. “Where’s Magnus?”

“No one’s seen him…”

My heart fell into my stomach, picturing him burned alive in his cabin that he couldn’t escape because he was trapped. “Who…the fuck…did this?” I’d take my men and hit them now. Kill them, their entire family, and destroy any legacy they could have had. My jacket was thrown on, and I was out the door and marching to war.

He hesitated, as if he didn’t want to say. “The girl…”

I halted at the second landing and looked down at the foyer, where she’d stood just weeks ago, twisting an invisible knife into my brother’s back to get what she wanted. Gilbert ran into the foyer because he must have heard me, his hair messy, dressed in his pajamas.

“Sir?” he asked, half asleep. “What’s happening? I’ll get the car…” He sprinted outside and shouted to one of the men.