Nila, I’m coming.

Once she was in my arms, I was never letting her go again.

Looking through the taxi windshield, my eyes widened at the countless cars and SUVs decorating the entrance to the Hall. All of them black and threatening—waiting for commands.

I hope to fuck that’s Tex and his men.

“That’s ten pounds twenty.” The driver twisted in his seat, pointing at the metre.

I threw him twenty quid from the bankroll the captain had given me in exchange for another diamond and climbed out. “Keep the change.”

The driver nodded, shifting into gear and pulling away from the verge. As he drove off, I prowled toward the convoy, peering at men I didn’t recognise.

No, that wasn’t true.

I did recognise them. I recognised the ferocity in their gaze. The merciless stare of a hired killer. I felt their quiet thoughts and slipstream of emotional commitment to a job they’d been hired to do.

I wanted to grab them all in a fucking hug and thank them profusely for being on my side after a lifetime of war.

Vaughn spotted me first.

Nila’s brother careened around a 4WD, pointing his finger in my face. “You. What the fuck is going on?” Gel plastered black hair away from his face; his eyes ready to slaughter me.

Not giving me time to reply, he grabbed his right forearm, shoving it beneath my nose. “What did you do to her? Why do I have an ache in my arm?” Grabbing me by the neck, he growled, “Tell me what the fuck you did to my sister!”

His internal thoughts flew haywire, screeching in fear and fluster.

I held up my hands, submitting to his hold. “Your fight is not with me.” I held my ground as he clenched his fists, tightening his grip. “I didn’t touch her. I love her. I’m on your side, Weaver.”

“Let him go, V.” Tex appeared from around another vehicle, dressed all in black like his son. They truly looked alike, whereas Nila looked very much like Emma. A true family. The only thing my family had in common was insanity and golden eyes.

Damn genetics.

Damn contracts and debts and greed.

Vaughn bared his teeth, ignoring his father. “I asked you a question, Hawk. I said what the fuck is going on? I didn’t ask if you’re on our side. That’s debatable, and we’ll make up our own minds without you telling us thank you very fucking much.”

I dropped my hands, my fingers itching for one of the guns holstered to the men slowly surrounding us. Each man held an arsenal on his body, fully equipped for battle and not afraid of firepower or injury.

My back ached from bowing with my neck in a headlock, but I wouldn’t fight. I refused to fight with the Weavers anymore. “Let me go.”

“No. Not until you talk.”

“We’re going to end this.” My voice sounded tired to my ears, but truth rang loud. “That’s what’s going on.”

V shook with anger. “Where’s my sister?”

“At the Hall.”

“Is she safe?” Tex asked, his aging face strained but resolute. In a different world, I would’ve liked Nila’s father. His inner thoughts were gentle and quiet—almost like Kes with the ability to switch off overwhelming hate or happiness, living a mediocre life of monitored emotions. Unlike Kes, who’d learned to hide in order to live a better existence, I doubted Textile did it for fun.

My suspicions were he kept his true feelings locked away, padlocked and buried, so he didn’t have to deal with a daily drowning of sorrow and regret of losing the women of his family.

Surprisingly, there was no guilt. He’d allowed me to take Nila with no fight or fury. He should feel some patina of shame for handing over his daughter, even if he’d been trained to do exactly that. There was more to his defeat than he let on. Something lurked on the outskirts of his thoughts…wrapped up in flickering pride and solemn dignity at something he’d done where Nila was concerned.

What did he do?

Vaughn suddenly released me, pushing me away from him and rubbing his forearm. “She’s hurt. I feel her—always did.”

My eyes shot to his, appreciating the twin-link he and Nila shared more than he knew. He might feel her physically, but I felt her emotionally. And he was right, she was hurt.

Tex sucked in a heavy breath, his large shoulders rolling beneath stress. I made a note to ask him what he’d done when this was all over. I wanted to know his secrets. I had a feeling he held the answers to a lot of loose ends.

But now is not the time.

Nila.

We’d stalled enough.

Is she safe? Are you safe, Nila? Please, be fucking safe.

I shook my head. “We need to go. You’re right, she’s hurt. My father broke her arm, and I have no doubt he means to do more than that. That’s why we have to move fast.”

“What!?” V’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You’ll pay, Hawk. I’ll make you pay for every injury Threads has endured because of your fucking family.”

My heart pattered irregularly—my rhythm always struggled when faced with such overwhelming emotion. “I’ll pay whatever you want, Weaver. But for now, we have to work together.” Eyeing up the cars, I counted eight in total. At least two men to a car, so sixteen men.

Sixteen men to kill Cut and whatever brothers remained patriotic to him. I didn’t relish the thought of killing club members who’d served beneath me for years, but maybe I wouldn’t have to if Flaw managed to separate the loyal from the traitors.