Three years later Bridgette stood outside looking at the remains of her childhood home. All that was left was a charred frame and a foundation that had been weathered by the years of bipolar Texas weather. The fire that she had started to remove any trace of her existence still remained heavy on her mind. She had whispered a sad goodbye to her home and the memories of her family that night. She had buried her daughter’s remains in the dirt floor of the old shed her family had built years ago. Bridgette said a silent prayer begging for forgiveness for not saving her from the horrors of her father, covered the grave with straw and old boxes, and left vowing that she would one day return. Now she was back. “Hey, Bridge.” A small voice called out to her. Bridgette turned with a small smile on her face as the six year old girl climbed out of the car. Her only friend for four years had passed away. Like Bridgette, she was all alone so she had asked her to take care of the litt

  It's been three years and Kane found himself in an annoying situation. He had gone to The Coffee Palace to see his sister, hoping that she would divulge some of the information that she had on the young woman he had met. Somehow he had managed to get caught in the middle of a fight involving a one night stand and a fuck buddy of his.  Kane rubbed at his temples as the two shrieked at each other. He was regretting his decision to even come into town. If it hadn't been the Prez sending him he would have still been asleep.  “For the love of God take this shit outside and out of my fucking restuarant!” Mary yelled, coming out of the kitchen. “Kane, you’re my brother and I love you, but for the sake of my sanity you need to get better taste in women.” Mary growled.  “Excuse me!”A tall bru

A/N: This chapter contains explicit violence. I will mark where it begins and ends so feel free to skip it if it makes you uncomfortable. Look for the *****     The large opulent mansion stood erect once again. It had taken over a year to complete and Bernard had spent that year in a violent rage that scared even his men. Bernard Shaw was now pushing fifty and he was glad to be done with rebuilding his mansion. He felt like the fire and the escape of his song bird had been the wakeup call he needed and as a result he had increased his security ten fold. After that night it had become very clear that he had become complacent and allowed his ego to get the better of him.    Bernard thought back to his younger years. How he had reached such successful heights at the age of twenty-four. The death of the cartel boss that had