Chapter 25 Cash #2
“This is how I see it.” He paces a slow circle at the room’s core.
“Summit got tired of waiting for everyone to sell, so they’re escalating.
They sent Gabriel after Cash, thinking maybe a little intimidation would scare him into giving them something they could use.
When that didn’t work, they went ahead and burned down our best asset.
They want to break us in public, in front of the whole goddamned town. ”
“So we take ‘em out.” That’s Tank, all anger and muscle and intent. “Say the word, Prez. I’ll handle it. Break some knees, send a message.”
For a heartbeat, Stone lets us taste the idea. Then he flicks his gaze to me. “Cash. This was about you and Mercy. The bar was just the opening shot.”
I know what he wants from me—restraint. He wants my logic over his rage.
But right now, sitting here with my ribs tap-dancing every time I breathe and Mercy’s fingernails digging into my shoulder, I want nothing more than to march down to Summit’s gleaming glass palace and pull Gabriel through the doors by his nostrils.
But I force myself to think.
“They’re going for shock and awe. Trying to spook the locals, break our hold on downtown, get all the businesses to sell early or switch sides.”
Every word feels wrong, because what I really want to say is, Let me at him. Let me find that bastard and set him on fire.
But I learned something last night when his goons were working me over.
Gabriel’s playing the long game—fake arrests, black sites, burning evidence.
He’s building a narrative where we’re the criminals violence follows, and he’s the hero cleaning up the town.
The second we give him real violence? We hand him the story he needs.
So I give Stone what he needs instead: my brain, not my fists. Gabriel wants a war. We’ll give him a trial.
“We can’t fight fire with fire on this,” I continue.
“Correct,” Stone says, voice sharp. “They want us to react, make a move they’ll use to frame the club as a violent threat.”
“They’re baiting us,” Hawk says, half question, half statement of truth.
“Which means we work in the shadows on this,” Stone replies, but there’s a mean curl in the edge of his mouth. “We get one shot to punch where it counts.” He turns to me again. “Cash, you talked with Josie yet this morning?”
Before I can answer, I see her. She’s in the back, immaculate, phone in hand. She winks at me.
I shake my head. “Nope, not yet.”
Mercy’s hands shift on my shoulders, a silent solidarity.
Stone continues. “Josie and I have a plan. We go legal on this one. Gather our own evidence. We do this right, because if we slip up even once, every cop in the county will have the excuse they need to start rounding up patches. Cash, you’re no good on the road.
So, you and Mercy are on research. What we have right now can be argued as circumstantial.
We want concrete. All the cameras in the bar had offsite storage.
Find faces, car plates, anything we can use.
Hawk, you’re on logistics—find out which Summit properties those uniforms came from and if they’re still on payroll.
Tank, you’re with Bones on street intel.
Don’t get seen, don’t get caught, but find out who started the fire and who gave the order.
This was meant to be public, so someone’ll know something. I want names.”
He looks at me again, harder this time. “I know you want retribution. But we’re dealing with a different kind of enemy than we’re used to.
We’re doing this the right way. Quiet. Smart.
We get the fucking proof. Then we bring them down so hard they’ll wish the goddamn mountain had fallen on them instead. ”
I almost salute him. Instead, I look up at Mercy and nod. “We’ll get it.”
Stone breaks the meeting with a single, sharp, “Go,” and the room comes to life all at once.
But it doesn’t empty immediately. People stand around in clusters, voices low and angry.
I can feel the violence humming under everyone’s skin—that particular MC energy that comes right before someone gets their teeth kicked in.
The energy shifts again when Kya walks in with Lee. She’s covered in soot, clothes wrecked, her face streaked with tears and ash. The room goes silent.
“Kya,” Mercy breathes, pulling away from me to rush to her friend.
Kya just stands there for a moment, looking lost. “It’s gone. All of it. The photo wall with everyone’s pictures. The signatures. The pool table where Axel cheated to beat Poppy. The stool Cash always sat on.” Her voice cracks. “All those memories, and it’s just... ash.”
Mercy wraps her arms around Kya, who breaks down, sobbing into Mercy’s shoulder. Lee looks ready to murder someone with his bare hands.
The stool I always sat on. The one where I first worked up the courage to talk to Mercy. The place where I stopped being a shadow, where Kya would pour my drink before I even asked, where I learned what it felt like to be known. To be seen.
Gabriel took that feeling from all of us. But he’s wrong if he thinks ash can erase what we built. You can’t burn down family. You can’t destroy belonging.
“We’ll rebuild,” Stone says, his voice carrying that particular gravity that makes everyone listen. “Bigger. Better. They want to tear down what’s ours? Fuck them. We’ll make it twice as good.”
“With what money?” Kya asks, pulling back from Mercy. “Insurance is already giving me the runaround. They’re calling it suspicious circumstances, which means they won’t pay out for months, if at all.”
“The club will front it,” Stone says without hesitation. “Every penny.”
“Stone, I can’t accept—”
“You can and you will.” His tone isn’t accepting anything but agreement. “Devil’s Bar is ours. You’re ours. We take care of our own.”
Duck speaks up. “I’ve got some money saved. Was gonna use it for a new bike, but—”
“Me too,” Hawk adds. “Got about ten grand sitting around.”
“Fifteen here,” Axel chimes in.
One by one, every member starts pledging money. Even the prospects are offering what little they have. Kya starts crying again, but differently this time.
“We’re about to go through all the camera footage,” Mercy tells her, wiping her own eyes. “See if we can get clear shots of whoever did this.”
Kya nods, composing herself. “Thanks. We have all the footage backed up to the cloud. If those fuckers so much as breathed near my bar, we should have it on video.”
“Good,” Stone says. “Cash, Mercy, get on that. Josie’s already working on federal charges. But we need evidence.”
I try to stand and nearly face-plant. Mercy’s there immediately, steadying me.
“You need to rest,” she says.
“I need to help nail these fuckers.”
“You can do both,” Josie says. “Set up in the chapel if that’s OK? I’ll bring my laptop, all the legal files. We’ll build this case together.”
Stone nods. “Do it. Everyone else, you have your assignments. We meet back here at four with whatever we’ve found.” He pauses, looking around the room. “They think they broke us. They think burning our bar will make us run. They don’t know who they’re fucking with.”
Gabriel thinks he’s won. Thinks beating me and burning Devil’s will break us. But he doesn’t understand what he’s up against. Not a motorcycle club trying to protect territory. A family that’s survived worse than him.
We’re not backing down. We’re digging in.
And when this is over, Gabriel’s going to wish he’d just signed those fucking divorce papers and left us the fuck alone.