The Chase

Zach hung his head. “I was afraid you’d say that. What about Joanna? And Amity? And the rest of Jed’s daughters?”

“You’ll either have to leave or let the FBI break up that den of depravity. I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

“I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try.”

Zach’s easy acceptance—especially since his young daughter’s well-being was at stake—set off alarms in Seth’s head. He raised his gun and curled his finger along the trigger.

Beck darted a confused glance his way, then locked a dissecting stare on his brother. “What are you going to do?”

“Return to Messiah City, gather my wife and daughter, and leave while I still can. I don’t know where we’ll go. I don’t much like the outside world, but I suppose we’ll start a new life, like you. But no matter what happens, you’ll always be my brother.”

When Zach opened his arms, beckoning Beck for a hug, Liam stood from the protection of his sandbag barrier. “Beck. Seth! They’re here.”

The words had no more than rolled off his tongue when the shrill beep of the transmitter pealed from atop the roof.

Zach paled. “Is it Jed?”

Dean’s stare was glued to his phone, then he cursed. “We’ve got a whole convoy coming.”

“Jed and the Saint Squad.” The younger man clenched his jaw. “Then give me a gun, brother. I fight this day.”

* * *

Dread climbedup Beck’s spine as he weighed his brother’s request. But he didn’t have time for indecision. “If you turn on us, everyone here will blow your head off.”

“I-I wouldn’t. I—”

Beck didn’t wait to hear the rest, just shoved the AR into Zach’s hands, dragged him to the porch, and nudged him behind the sandbag barrier with Buddy. “Do you know what to do with that?”

Zach nodded. “Jed made us all learn.”

“No surprise there.” Beck snagged another automatic weapon for himself and turned toward Seth.

His brother grabbed his arm. “I’m with you. Thank the good Lord you also have others to defend you.”

“Did you think Seth and I were stupid enough to confront Jed alone?”

“I prayed you would know better. How many?”

Why the hell did he want a head count? “Enough.”

Beck hoped.

Jerking free, he joined the PI, who now stood in the driveway, scanning his friends’ positions around the house. Everyone was in place.

“Talk to me about the convoy, Dean.” Seth nodded his way. “What are we dealing with?”

“We got one…no, make that two nineteen-sixty-something deuce-and-a-half troop haulers. The fuckers are fully tarped, so no idea about the hostiles or firepower they’re hauling.” The cop paused, then let out a low whistle. “And lookie there. Those cocksuckers have a fifty cal mounted on a Jeep. They’re definitely not coming for coffee and donuts, boys.”

“Fuck,” Seth spat. “This is going to get ugly.”

Beck nodded grimly. “Dealing with Jedediah always is.”

On the roof, River raised his big-ass grenade launcher. “Dibs on the fifty cal!”

“Greedy prick,” Dean groused. “You always steal the fun.”

“Don’t be a whine bag,” River tossed back. “Next time we melt a sweet thing between us, you can have dibs on whichever end you want. Happy?”