I thought back to Ash, sitting with us at the table. I remembered his face, fucking smiling as he ate Maddie’s food. Talking to my wife.

He was happy here.

“Flame?” Maddie said my name again. I watched her. “I have been wondering . . . perhaps Asher would like to stay with us?”

“Tonight?”

She shook her head. “I have been thinking that perhaps Asher should live here with us. He is your brother and he adores you. I know he loves AK too, but you are his brother. We are his family. I feel he should move in with us.”

I shook my head. I breathed hard through my nostrils. “I don’t . . . I don’t know how to care for him. What the fuck would I say to him? Where would he stay?”

“Shh,” Maddie soothed. “It was just an idea. Something that can stay between us. Something for you to think about. There is no need to panic. Or worry. And we could make up the back room for his bedroom. He is sixteen and very independent. Asher would not need caring for like a small child. And you can talk to him. You do so now. It would simply be more frequent, which I think would be good for you. Good for you both.”

I tried to think of Ash living here. My body went cold, and I couldn’t fucking breathe. “Flame,” Maddie said, and I focused on her face. “It is something to think about. But not right now.” Maddie’s hand softly traveled down my abs. I hissed as her hand reached the waistband of my leathers. “Right now I wish to be with my husband. I wish to remind you that I am here for you, always. That I am not where Phebe was. Instead I am in your arms, in our bed, in our home. And that I love you.”

“Yeah,” I said hoarsely. “I want that too.”

Then Maddie kissed me. She kissed me and the need to cut my arm went away. The thoughts of her in the ghost town left my head. Because now she was here.

In our bed.

In my arms.

My fucking Maddie.

Mine.

Chapter Ten

Phebe

I stared at the trees as they whizzed past—a blur of green and brown. The truck was silent as we drove up a dirt path. Fields and fields of green spread out around us. If I did not know better, I could have believed I was back in New Zion. But somehow I thought I would have always known that was not true. Everything about this devil’s den felt different. And not in the way I would have thought. I did not feel fear, but nor did I feel safe. I was stalled in a state of purgatory, not knowing where I belonged.

A fallen leaf caught in a strong wind.

“I am to stay with Rebekah from now on?” I asked as I stared out of the window. I toyed with the sleeve of the loose, white, floor-length dress Bella had brought for me.

My heart was a trembling mess as I thought of the last time I had seen Rebekah. A part of me feared she would hate me, that she would not welcome me into her home. But on the other hand, I wanted to break free from this truck in which I traveled and run into her arms.

One of AK’s hands was tight on the steering wheel. He had a cigarette in the other, and he took regular drags from the lit embers as we drove.

Over the past few hours, I had tried to piece together what had happened to me in New Zion, in the end. I remembered that Judah, fearful of an attack by the devil’s men, began gathering our people. I remembered hiding Grace near the prison. I remembered Cain coming back and promising me that if anything happened to me he would secure Grace’s safety. I remembered freeing Cain, Sister Ruth, Brother David, Solomon and Samson from their cell.

Then I remembered Meister finding me near the woods as I rushed back to Grace. He took hold of my hand. I had tried to resist him, but he had been violent and put something in my arm. He had been gradually putting something in my arm many weeks before that, the potion that made me feel strange, but that day it had been different. Because that was the last thing I truly remembered. Only flashes and segments of other moments remained—dark rooms, Meister and his friends laughing at me.

And pain. Lots and lots of pain.

AK took a left turn, the motion of the vehicle dragging me from my thoughts. A house came into view. Similar to AK’s, but bigger and with more greenery outside. My pulse took off into a sprint as the truck rolled to a stop.

AK pointed at the house. “This is Ky and Lilah’s.”

“Oh.” A sudden onslaught of nerves gripped me. I tried to focus on the windows, checking for any movement, but I could not see beyond the reflection of the trees against the glass.

I played with my hands in my lap. “I have wanted this moment for so long . . . yet I find myself frozen in this very seat,” I said, my voice shaking. I looked down at my hands, at the broken skin, at the ashen pallor, and wondered what Rebekah would think of me.

“I have thought of this moment many times, AK. For so long I believed I would never get this chance. To see the sister I have loved for so long, yet wronged in so many ways . . .” I laughed nervously. “I suppose you do not understand what I am saying.”

He shifted in his seat. “I think I probably do.”

“Yes?” I said in relief. Relief that perhaps someone knew how I feared this moment as much as I treasured that it was finally here.

AK nodded, then looked out of his window, turning his head from me.

“Then did . . . did you ever get this moment too?” I asked.

I heard the birds in the trees and the wind rustling through the leaves, but nothing came from him. Eventually he faced me again, a wash of sadness in his eyes. He dropped his head.

“No.”

His voice was cut and raw, and my heart yearned to comfort him. I moved my hand toward him, but just as I laid my hand on his thigh, the thick muscle tensing underneath, he spoke. “But you get yours, now.”

“I am afraid,” I confessed as I saw the front door of the cabin open. The blond man with long hair who I remembered from that night on Perdition Hill stepped out and looked across at our truck. Ky.

“She’ll be coming soon,” AK said.

I slid my hand off his thigh. “AK?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you help me out of the truck, please? I feel . . . I am not sure I can get out and see her myself. My feet, I am sure, will not carry me.” A flush of embarrassment surged to my cheeks. “You do not have to if you do not—”

Before I could finish the sentence, AK was around the side of the truck and opening the door. He reached in and took hold of my waist, lifting me from the truck. My sandaled feet hit the soft grass and the warm breeze flowed through my hair.