Page 67 of Freeing Souls

“I don’t know. I worked my ass off to make that nightclub what it was. It became my home away from home and a place I had that was just mine. I love my brothers, don't get me wrong, but raising those three wasn’t easy, and I didn’t feel qualified most of the time. So, Dirty Sinner was just my thing. Sugar said I can decide what happens now, but I don’t know. Maybe it’s time to move on.” He shrugs, but I can tell by his tone that isn’t what he really wants.

“Don’t let her do that,” I huff.

“What?” He pulls his eyes away from the road to glance at me.

“Don’t let Tammy take something away from you. She has taken so much from me, and she is partially to blame for my dad being taken from all of us. Don’t let her take this. Rebuild, put in the work to make it even better than before. The guys are adults now and are deciding what they want for their futures. You are free to do the same.”

“You’re right.” He nods. “I’ll have to put some thought into it, and it probably won’t happen right away. I have to get my shit together first.”

“I know losing Gabe hurts.” His shoulders tense up, but I don’t stop. “Just know that I am his daughter, so I feel like it’s my duty to personally kick your ass if you let losing him fuck up your future.”

Noah laughs. “I’ll hold you to that. I have an idea of what the boys want with their futures, but what about you? When this is all said and done, what does Harley want?”

“I want to breathe,” I murmur and glance out the window, hoping he will let the topic go for now. I don’t know what I want to do with my future, but I do know my one goal right now is to just finally breathe and not feel like I am suffocating.

Pulling up to our destination, Noah glances at me. “Ready?”

“Fuck yes.”

Standing at the bed of the truck, we gather our supplies. “If they’re home, what’s the plan?”

Before I can answer him, his phone starts to ring, and he’s quick to answer it on speaker. “Care to tell me what you are doing?”

“Not really,” Noah says back.

“Blade,” Nerds sighs, seeming exhausted. “Just fucking tell me.”

“Harley and I are going to send a little warning about burning down things that don’t belong to them.” He tells him, without any snarky comments clearly picking up on the same tone as I did.

“Hmm, fine. Give me a second,” Nerds rasps. We can hear him typing and his mouse clicking before he says, “Their car is in Virginia right now. Be careful in case one of them is still home.”

After hanging up, Noah stops me from grabbing the gas cans. “Harley, in all seriousness, what is the plan if one of them is here? You ready for that?”

I grin, which throws him off slightly as he eyes widen. Reaching into the black bag in the bed of the truck, I pull out coils of rope I found in the safe slash gun room downstairs.

“Tie them up, maybe have some fun, then put them in the basement and listen to them scream like I’ve wanted to for three fucking years.”

“You know, when you allow yourself to feed this unhinged side I think you have hidden in you, you could rival me for my position as enforcer.” He says, dead serious.

I shrug. “I don’t love this side of me, but sometimes, it feels like it’s the only way I can ever find a way to be free.”

“Alright. Let’s fucking do this,” he says, grabbing the gas cans and bag we brought, ready to move on from the serious talk.

We keep to the side of the driveway by the trees as we walk down the long road of the Wilson driveway. As we approach the house, Noah asks, “Where do you want to do this?” He shakes the gas cans.

Locking eyes with him, I say, “The basement.”

“You sure?” he questions, no pity on his face, which makes this much easier to handle.

“Yes.”

“I can get the front door open. If anyone is home and awake, shoot first, ask questions later, got it?”

I nod, pulling my gun out of my leggings waistband as he picks the front door lock. Easily getting it open, we walk inside, checking our surroundings as we make our way through the house, checking for anyone.

My heart thuds against my chest at just being back in this house that hasn’t changed at all since I was here last. I don’t know whether I am hoping one of them is home.

But when we check the final room before heading down to the basement, I can’t help the trickle of disappointment that takes root at the house being empty.

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