Aurora studied him for a long moment. “You really think this ends tonight?”
“No,” Nitro said. “But it’s a start.” He reached for her hands, squeezing them into his own. “This isn’t about closure. It’s about leverage. We get him talking, and we’ll get the proof we need to gain your freedom. We draw the Saints into the light, and they’ll end up having no choice but to let you go.”
“And then?” she asked. “What happens if I ever get my freedom from the Saints?”
Nitro’s eyes went dark. “Then we don’t have to hide anymore. We can go anywhere and do anything. No one will be coming for you—not ever again.” She nodded, accepting the answer for what it was—and that was enough for him.
“Give me just a few, and I’ll be ready to go,” she breathed, as she turned to walk down the hallway to the master bedroom. Nitro felt like he was holding his damn breath as he watched her walk away.
He wasn’t afraid of the Saints. He was afraid of losing her because he misjudged something about their mission. Nitro checked his weapons again and adjusted his jacket. He slipped his comm into place and sighed, knowing that the shit was about to hit the fan—but he was ready for it. He was ready to fight for the woman he had fallen in love with.
Nitro knew that the Iron Vipers were rolling into position, making his plans come to fruition. He knew that he could count on his club, and the guys he had called on the downlow—they’d have his back too. He could always lean on his military buddies, no matter how bad things got.
Nitro stepped out into the night and looked up at the sky, noting that it was overcast. They weren’t calling for rain, but it sure felt like it was going to. It didn’t matter, though, because nothing was going to stop him from doing this mission. He’d spent his life walking into traps designed by worse men than theSaints. The difference this time? He was the one setting a trap that none of the Saints would survive.
AURORA
Aurora had spentmost of the ride back to town feeling as though she might be physically ill. A few times, she thought about asking Nitro to turn the truck around and go back to the safehouse, but doing so would never get her the freedom she so badly wanted. So, she sucked down her anxiety, put on a brave face, and let him keep on driving to the abandoned building where they had all agreed to meet.
She wasn’t really nervous about seeing her father again. Aurora had spent so much time thinking about what she’d say to him if she were ever in the same room with him again. So many nights were spent plotting her escape from the Saints, lying awake, knowing that her father was the one who had put her there. Or, at least, that’s what the Saints had told her. Salis liked to remind her daily that she was there because her old man couldn’t pay his debt, so he used her to make things right with them. He said that the Saints owned her and that her father’s debt would never be paid in full, so she wasn’t ever leaving.
God, she wished that she could have seen the look on Salis’s face when he woke up the morning that she had actually escaped and realized that she was gone. Aurora remembered the night she escaped better than any other moment of her life. Notbecause it was loud or dramatic, but because it was her quiet way of taking back her life.
God, it felt like just yesterday that they took her to live at their compound. She was only a child when her father sold her to the Saints, and although no one touched her at first, they didn’t wait long to break her in. She quickly became Salis’s pet, and she hated him the most.
The Saints’ compound always had a way of settling into a rhythm by midnight. She had learned that quickly after they had taken her. There were no roaring engines, laughter, or heavy boots dragging across the hardwood floors of the clubhouse as men staggered to their beds or passed out where they stood. Aurora lay on her side on Salis’s mattress, eyes closed, breathing even, every muscle loose in a way that took years of practice to fake.
Salis liked her compliance, so she let him believe that she was. He liked to believe she was broken enough not to try to run. That was his first mistake, but every night she made plans to do just that. She waited until his breathing deepened—until the weight of his arm slackened where it draped over her waist. The smell of alcohol was strong and sour on his breath, as he snored softly. He was a man utterly convinced of his ownership of her.
Aurora would count to herself—one, two, three. And then, she’d slide free inch by inch, letting the sheet fall back into place so the bed still looked occupied. Her feet touched the floor without a sound as she reached beneath the loose board behind the nightstand—the one she’d worked free for months, millimeter by millimeter. Inside was a bent nail, a stolen key, and a folded scrap of paper with directions she’d memorized until they lived behind her eyelids every time she closed them.
Her heart hammered, but her hands were steady. That was her first miscalculation—assuming fear would paralyze her. Aurora slipped into the hallway, barefoot, timing her steps withthe hum of a generator outside. She knew the guards’ routes. She quickly learned who smoked, who drank too much, and who cut corners when they thought no one was watching.
She moved like a shadow they’d trained her to be. At the back door, she hesitated only once—pressing her palm flat against the cold metal. Freedom waited on the other side. So did the consequences of running. They had been ingrained in her from the first day that the Saints took possession of her, but she was willing to risk every punishment that the Saints might pile on her for the taste of freedom.
She turned the key, and the lock clicked open. There was no alarm. No shouts came from the guards that she was escaping. Aurora stepped into the night and breathed in the cool air. Freedom had never smelled so good. She didn’t run—not at first. Running would draw unwanted attention from the guards. She walked, slow and steady, down the dirt path until the trees swallowed her whole. Only then did she break into a sprint, her lungs burning, her feet shredding on rocks and roots in the forest, but she didn’t slow down. She didn’t stop until dawn.
By the time the sun rose, Renee no longer existed. She changed her name three days later. Her hair, two weeks after that. Her life became her own every single day that followed. Still—sometimes, in the darkest moments, one thought surfaced uninvited.
Aurora wished she could’ve seen the look on Salis’s face when he woke up that morning to find her gone.
He’d find the bed empty, the key missing, and the realization would hit him that the girl he thought he owned had vanished into the world without his permission. Aurora imagined the rage and panic he’d have when he realized what had happened. The way control would’ve slipped through his fingers like sand would have been fun to watch, but she’d never have that pleasure.
She’d never be his again, and although that thought didn’t heal her, it sustained her. Because even now, as she got ready to meet with her father, Aurora knew one thing with absolute certainty—she had already beaten them once, and she would never belong to the Saints again.
Nitro madeher wait in the truck until he cleared the area. She counted over a half dozen guys there, and a truckload of about five more guys showed up before they went in. He introduced them as his military buddies, and she wondered if they were in the same line of work as Nitro. He had pulled out all the stops in her protection. Maybe he was being overly cautious, but she appreciated his protection more than he’d ever know.
Aurora recognized her father before she saw his face. It was the way he stood with his shoulders hunched, hands clasped too tightly in front of him like a man forever bracing for the next blow. He was smaller than she remembered, and much older. He looked like the kind of man who looked like regret had hollowed him out and left nothing worth saving behind.
For a moment, she stayed in the shadows, not because she was afraid, but because she needed to remember that she was no longer the girl he had handed over like currency. Nitro’s hand brushed hers—brief and grounding. He didn’t look at her, but he didn’t need to. He was there by her side, and that was enough.
Aurora stepped out of the shadows of the abandoned mill. The building loomed behind her father, its windows dark and its paint peeling. It seemed a fitting backdrop for a meeting that should never have been necessary. Gravel crunched beneath her boots as she crossed the distance, each step measured and deliberate.
Her father looked up and nodded when he saw her. “Renee,” he breathed.
She stopped several feet away from him, not sure if she wanted to respond or not. Aurora needed to remember that she was there to settle things with her father, and then, she’d walk away and never look back. She needed to do this for herself, and allowing him to have the power to silence her again wasn’t part of the plan.
“That’s the name you sold me with,” she said calmly. “But it’s not my name anymore.”
