I'm going to keep putting out chapters to try and make up for how long I was absent. My mental health is in the gutters right now, which means pretty much no motivation to do jack-squat but that's no excuse for just leaving you guys hanging.

I'm sorry.

Gemma's POV:

I backed up, holding the knife out in front of me in a threatening manner. I wasn't about to let these guys get their hands on me a final time, not when my brother's were this close to a rescue. My mother and Daniel shared a glance before splitting up, my mother escaping back into the house and Daniel taking a gun from one of his soldiers and sauntering towards where the gunfire was echoing from.

Not going to lie, I was a little confused. I was their best bet at survival and they were ignoring me in favor of either running or going toe-to-toe with people they couldn't win against.

"Victoria, get Gemma out of here." Daniel ordered, exiting the courtyard right after. The old lady took a step towards me, lips parted and eyes panicked, but I held up my knife.

"I'm not afraid to cut you." I warned. She backed up before bolting out the door, hurrying after my mother in an attempt to find safety.

There was no where she could run that we wouldn't find her. It was just a matter of time.

An arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me into a chest and something cold was pressed to my temple. And there was the hostage moment I was just thinking about. I let out a heavy sigh, unimpressed with their lack of creativity, and flipped the knife around in my hand. I thought I would drop it, but I managed to keep my grip. I thrust the knife back and the person holding me hostage wheezed, stumbling away from me. The knife was embedded in his gut, but he wouldn't die from it.

Considering everyone else in the courtyard had fled, either to fight or try to escape, so it was only me and the guy who'd failed miserably at holding me hostage. Wasn't the first rule of taking someone as a bartering chip was to make sure they didn't have any weapons?

I'd have to update the handbook.

I ran through the house, searching for a way out of the maze of a building. I wasn't sure if it was bad architecture or if the house was built that way, but it seemed to be impossible to find an exit. I growled when I opened yet another door to find another bedroom. Honestly, how many people did Daniel think would come stay here? He doesn't have any friends!

"Gemma? Gemma?" A familiar voice called. I peeked my head out from the bedroom I was currently in, searching for a window. A smile pulled my cheeks up to the point of pain and I dropped my knife, flying down the hall and into Sinclair's waiting arms.

"Sin! I missed you so much!" I shouted, squeezing him as tightly as I could. He was holding me just as tightly. We spent a moment breathing each other in, letting the safe feeling of home sink into the air. We released each other, still smiling at each other.

I kept a grip on his forearm, sinking my fingers into the black material of his long-sleeve shirt.

"Okay, baby, here's the plan: I need to get you to safety outside. These guys," He gestured at the group of surly looking men, all wearing leather and wielding guns, that I hadn't even noticed in my excitement. "Are going to get us there. I just need you to keep holding onto me, alright?" He finished, bending slightly at the knees so that we'd be at the same height. I nodded, gulping down any trace of fear.

When I was around my brothers, it was like I unconsciously knew I was safe and my guards fell. Emotions I hadn't been able to deal with wrestled with logic. I knew there was no time for crying but it didn't stop the tears of fear and anger from welling up in my eyes.

"It's our mom. She's the one who did this. She gave me to him. She- she-" I blubbered, unable to speak past the cries. Sinclair knelt completely, his knees touching the floor, and wrapped his warm arms around me.

"Oh, sweet girl, I know, I know. I need to get you out of here right now but when we get safe, when we get home, we can sit and you can cry all you want and I will hold you for as long as it takes so that you aren't sacred anymore, sound like a plan?" Sinclair asked. I could tell he was in a rush, trying to hurry, but I couldn't resist wrapping my arms around him again and burying my face in his neck.

"I love you, Sin." I mumbled, regaining control over my tear ducts. Sinclair stiffed for a moment, surprise I imagine, but he quickly relaxed and gave me one, final squeeze.

"Love you, too, bubba. Now, how would you like to go find the others?" He asked, smiling down at me as he stood to his full height. I nodded excitedly, ready to escape this house and go home.

Sinclair stood in front of me, one hand capturing mine, the other holding a gun. The men circled around us started moving in unison, almost as if they were trained soldiers. Glancing up at Sinclair, it wouldn't have shocked me if he'd trained them himself. He seemed the type.

It was like our group was dancing, each member turning in time with each other. Even when there was a surprise, like a bad guy wearing black Kevlar, the dance of death didn't stop. A bullet or two flew, bad guy dropped to the floor dead, we continued marching.

I had no doubt Tobias wanted a couple of these guys to interrogate. I also knew that Sinclair didn't care if it meant getting us out alive.

We came to a hallway with a door that was ajar, fresh air wafting in from the slight opening. I wanted to race towards my first taste of true sunlight, of fresh air (as the courtyard had a stained glass roof that was kind of ugly), but Sinclair kept his firm grip on my arm to keep me from making such a mistake. For good reason, too, as the door opened and my mother stepped through, hands raised in surrender.

Her hair was mused and her eyes red, as if she'd been crying for a long while.

"Sinclair, my sweet boy, I'm so happy you're here." She simpered, lips trembling with her words. I rolled my eyes. As if I hadn't told him she was one of the evil doers, as if I wouldn't go into detail about all the terrible ways she'd betrayed us as children in front of him.

"Didn't expect you to still be here." Sinclair said, stone faced. Mother dearest sent me a smug look, like she won. Did she really think Sinclair would believe anything that came out of her mouth? Did she really think Sinclair would take her word over mine?

How stupid could one person be?

"He made me say horrible things. He made me do horrible things. Please, Sinclair, help me." She put her hands together in a begging fashion, tucking them under her quivering chin. Sinclair looked down at me, winking swiftly before going back to being unaffected.

He nodded once at one of his men. The guy grabbed my mother by her upper arm, bringing her into the circle of protection. I didn't make a sound. I trusted my brother and knew he had to have some sort of plan.

"Okay, we'll help you. We'll get you out." Sinclair said. We moved forward, exiting the building.

I wasn't sure why my mother decided facing her son was the wise decision. Either she was incredibly power hungry and thought she could fool all four of my brothers or she was just a head-case. Personally, I figured it was a bit of both.

We made it to the front yard. The bodies were countless and laid out on the ground, blood and bullet casings strewn about. My mother turned a light shade of green at the sight of Victoria laid out, dead, her throat cut. Damian's handiwork, no doubt. I fought back my vicious, feral grin.

I hid behind Sinclair's leg, waiting till I saw my other three brothers before making my grand appearance. I couldn't spot them. Their soldiers, the sort-of good guys were rushing around the yard, tending to the wounded and hauling the bodies of their enemies back into the house. I was pretty sure said house was going to be burnt, bodies included.

I perked up majorly when I saw yet another familiar face, littered with features we shared.

"Oh, Zion, my beautiful boy." My mother stepped forward, arms outstretched as she attempted to stroke Zion's cheeks. He batted her hands away, searching for something through the crowd. When he started to duck down a bit to see through people's legs, I figured it was time to put him out of his misery.

"Zi!" I shouted, jumping into his arms in much of the same way I did with Sinclair earlier. Zion swept me into a hug, whirling me around in joy. My flailing legs nearly clipped my mother in the face and the sight of her jerking away made me chuckle. Zion held me tightly to his chest, his heart thumping erratically under my cheek.

"God, Gem, I was so worried about you. Are you okay? Any injuries?" Zion asked, letting my feet touch the ground before he was bending to look me over for any bumps or bruises. My bottom lip shook even as I dismissed his worries.

"'M not hurt. I just wanna go home." My eyebrows furrowed as I concentrated on speaking with breaking down into tears. Zion whispered soothing words in Portuguese. I didn't understand a lick of what he was saying, but his voice was comforting in and of itself so I slowly started to relax, my tears receding once more.

"I know, baby, and we'll go home soon. We just have a few more minor details to iron out." Zion released me from his crushing hug, pinning my mother in place with a glare so icy, Elsa would've been jealous. I nodded, stepping aside so he could focus entirely on our egg donor.

Oh boy, this was going to be good.