Jumping in the truck, Cowboy started the engine as I held Lilah in my arms, raking her uneven short hair from the wound on her cheek. Dipping my head down, I pressed a kiss to my woman’s forehead, her face still fucking stunning even hacked up to hell.

And for the first time in a long fuckin’ time, I started to cry.

*****

The clock ticked slowly in the long sterile hallway. The Hangmen were all here, lining up the linoleum floor with leather, everyday folk staying the fuck outta our way.

Lilah and Flame were both in surgery, Flame so fuckin’ crazed at being brought here and, worse, being touched that he had to be sedated on arrival, all so they could assess the damage and get his psycho ass into the ER.

Lilah had immediately been taken from my hands, the doctors and nurses all firing me shitty looks. The fuckers took one look at our colors and cuts and instantly jumped to the conclusion that I’d sliced up my bitch. It took all my strength not to beat the fuck outta their disapproving faces, but my woman needed them more than my rage right then.

The entire journey, she hadn’t woken up, and the docs had taken her to surgery to stitch her up without missing a beat. Styx and Mae, Bull, Tank, and Tanner arrived just after. Beauty and Letti stayed behind to deal with a shell-shocked Madds.

Which brought me to now, waiting and going insane, replaying Li’s final words in my head. No more temptation. You are free from temptation… and my soul is now saved. Her cut-up face was smiling. Fuck, she’d completely lost it.

Heavy leather boots squeaked on the floor beside me, and a second later, Styx slumped down beside me, his ass hitting the floor with a thud. His hands hung over his legs, and he signed, “Sheriff turned up. Security reported a gunshot and that the Hangmen were bringing in bleeding bitches.”

Sighing, I ran my hands down my face and said, “Fuckin’ perfect.”

“Tank and Bull paid him off and I made sure he got a bonus for keeping his good little bent-copper mouth shut.”

“Thanks, brother,” I said. “Last thing we need is cops crawling over our business.”

Styx’s hand landed on my shoulder and he left it there. That fuckin’ gesture from my best friend almost broke me. Since our old men met the boatman, all we’d had was each other. Then he got Mae. That bitch was seven shades to fucked up… but nothing to the level of my woman lying on that operating table, getting stitched the fuck up.

“We’ll get her through it,” Styx signed.

“Yeah? Through what? What was going through that head of hers to make her mutilate herself, or worse still, why the fuck didn’t I see it?”

“None of us saw it,” a quiet voice said. Lifting my head, I saw Mae standing before us, her arms wrapped over her chest. Styx held out his hand and, taking it, Mae allowed Styx to pull her onto his lap. Cheek on his chest, her eyes never left mine. “Lilah was always the one that took the elders’… schoolings best. She was the perfect obedient woman, and she loathed our title, our segregation, loathed being Cursed… I think… I think she no longer wanted to be beautiful… no longer a temptress.”

“Fuck me, Mae. Do those cult fuckers really have that much of a hold on y’all?” I asked, fucking trying to find some explanation in this shittin’ mess. Before Mae rocked up in our yard, bleeding out, I’d never even known cults still existed, never mind how much they could seriously fuck with folks’ heads.

“Yes,” she answered, fighting tears. “It is all we have ever known. It is hard for us to shed the teachings we hold most sacred.”

Styx wrapped his hand in Mae’s black hair and kissed the top of her head. Tipping my head back, I briefly caught the brothers all staring our way, listening to our conversation, before I closed my eyes and just worked on breathing.

Minutes later, a cough sounded, and I snapped my eyes open. A middle-aged male doctor stood awkwardly at the end of the hallway. “You men brought in a woman and a man?”

We all immediately jumped to our feet. I stepped forward. “The bitch, she okay?”

The doctor’s fucking assessing judgmental eyes looked me up and down, and he said, “If you are referring to the young woman who was brought in cut up and bleeding, then yes, she is out of surgery and is in recovery.”

“Take me to her,” I ordered, and the doctor dropped his clipboard.

“Do we have a name for the woman?” he asked, and I swear it took everything I had not to jam that clipboard up his tight ass.

“Lilah,” Mae spoke from behind me. “Her name is Lilah.”

The doctor began scribbling some shit down, and he asked, “Surname?”

Mae frowned. “She does not have one.”

The doctor’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t have one?” He laughed without humor and shook his head. “A young woman, bleeding from knife slashes on her arms and face, fresh, what look like, lash wounds littering her back, and a crucifix burned onto her torso, gets rushed in by… a… a notoriously nefarious motorcycle club, and now you’re telling me she has no full name. No legal name, no medical records, no history on our system. And just prior, one of your men is admitted, a bullet wound to his neck, a man so disturbed he had to be sedated, and that man is named Flame. No full name provided for him either.”

When I edged forward, the doctor’s face paled, and I wrenched the clipboard from his hand and launched it against the wall. The doctor stiffened. “Listen up, doc. We’re gonna overlook everything you just said.” I tore his name badge from his white coat and threw it back at Vike.