Chapter 30 Kreed
KREED
The shot cracked through the night like lightning splitting a tree in half.
Instinct overrode everything…fear, fury, logic, and thought itself.
My body moved faster than my brain could process, muscles acting on pure survival programming.
I grabbed Kaylor by the waist, my hands locking around her rib cage, and tackled her to the ground.
We hit the dirt hard, the impact driving the air from both our lungs.
I twisted mid-fall, caging her beneath me, my body becoming her shield as the bullet hissed past my ear, so close I felt the displacement of air against my skin.
Her gasp was swallowed by the explosion still reverberating through the clearing. The smell of gunpowder hit hard and metallic, acrid smoke filling the cold air with a choking thickness. My chest pressed into her back, the rise and fall of her breathing my indicator that she was alive.
The tingle of breaking glass rang out over the trees as her bullet tore through one of the cabin windows, punching a hole through the grimy pane.
I held her pinned, one hand splayed across her head, the other braced in the dirt beside her, waiting for the second shot, the third, the spray of automatic fire.
Waiting for the ambush Rusty threatened.
Seconds stretched into eternities.
Carson crouched behind his car, not far from me, and I prayed my brothers had found cover, but when no other shot was discharged, I started to doubt Rusty’s threats. That bluffing fucking prick.
Kaylor rustled underneath me. “D-did I kill him?” Kaylor stammered.
“No,” I murmured, my breath brushing her cheek, stirring strands of her hair. I pushed off her, rolling to the side. “No, little raven. You didn’t shoot him.”
“But my gun went off.” She stared at her shaking hands as if they were strangers. The weapon in question had fallen a few feet away from where we hit the ground. “I pulled the trigger. I felt the recoil. I—”
“It hit a window,” I said. She might not be happy she’d missed, but at least her conscience was clean. Mine, on the other hand…
I reached across the gravel path, picking up my gun with every fucking intention of finishing this.
“Then why—why is he bleeding?” she whispered from where she sat up, eyes fixed ahead, her breath faltering, hitching on a sob she was trying to swallow.
My head snapped up, neck muscles protesting the quick motion. What the fuck?
Rusty staggered backward on the porch, his hands pressing to his chest, fingers splayed wide, trying to hold something in that wouldn’t stay.
A dark stain spread across the front of his cream Henley, blooming outward so fast it soaked through the fabric in seconds.
His face went slack, eyes widening with shock and confusion.
His mouth opened, closed, and opened again, but no words came out.
His knees buckled, joints giving way all at once, and he slammed into the wooden boards with a dull, heavy thud.
Carson’s voice cut through the haze, answering Kaylor’s lingering question. “It wasn’t your shot.”
“Dad!” Jesse’s scream ripped over the clearing as he lurched forward, legs tangling beneath him in his haste. He caught himself on his hands and scrambled across the porch, reaching the man who’d ruined all our lives.
I shoved to my feet and moved to help Kaylor up, keeping one arm clamped around her waist. I hauled her upright in a smooth motion, locking her against my side and tucking her into the shelter of my body.
She was shaking, violent tremors running through her frame like aftershocks.
Hell, maybe I was too. My hands weren’t exactly steady, but I needed her close.
Needed her safe. Needed to feel her breathing against me.
My gaze lifted slowly, dragging upward, and locked on my father standing a few feet behind where Rusty had been, a gun in his hand. Smoke curled from the barrel in lazy spirals, dissipating into the night air. I hadn’t seen the gun until now, hadn’t even seen him move or draw, let alone fire.
He’d shot Rusty.
Holy shit.
He’d shot him clean through the back, the angle and placement perfect, the bullet going straight into the heart.
Rusty’s breath rattled in his chest, a wet, gurgling sound.
It caught, stuttered, then stopped altogether.
His body pitched forward with deadweight momentum, falling face-first. Jesse managed to catch him before he hit the dirt, but it was too late.
There was nothing he could do. Rusty’s arms splayed out at odd angles, blood beginning to pool beneath him.
Silence swallowed the clearing.
“What the hell have you done?” Raine demanded of our father. He stepped forward, gun still raised but wavering now, uncertain where to point it.
My father didn’t show any hint of emotion on his face.
His expression remained carved from stone.
“Keeping my word,” he stated simply as his eyes flicked to Kaylor for a fraction, and it clicked.
I understood with horrifying clarity. The deal he made with my girlfriend had been signed in blood—Rusty’s fucking blood.
Kaylor stiffened in my arms, understanding dawning at what happened, at the cost she paid for Rusty’s life.
Unfortunately, now wasn’t the moment to unpack how fucked up this situation was. I couldn’t think about that. Not while my nerves were still screaming, adrenaline flooding my system. Not while the threat might not be finished.
I scanned the tree line, head swiveling, eyes searching the darkness. “We’re not clear. There could be shooters in the woods.”
“No,” my father said calmly, finally lowering his weapon. He ejected the magazine, checked the chamber, then tucked the gun at his back. “There aren’t.”
“You don’t know that,” I snapped, unwilling to risk Kaylor’s life without certainty.
He gave a humorless half smile, one corner of his mouth lifting without warmth.
“I do. Rusty was bluffing. There was no one else. He was too arrogant to admit how few allies he had left.” My father walked to the porch steps, staring down at Rusty’s lifeless form cradled in Jesse’s lap.
“He trusted me. That was his final mistake.”
Jesse let out a broken half snarl, half sob, something animal and wounded. He leaned over his father’s body, shoulders shaking, hands hovering but not quite touching, as if he didn’t know whether to mourn or rage.
Carson sank against his car, his shoulders sagging. “Should we call the police?” he asked, and the question drew several glares from my brothers.
“Is he serious?” Maddox muttered, sweeping a hand through his hair.
And Kaylor…
She pressed closer to my side, her fingers clutching my hoodie, twisting the fabric.
I tightened my grip on her, pulling her fully into me, wrapping both arms around her now.
Rusty was finally dead. I should be ecstatic that he could never hurt her again; he could never take what was mine, but instead, I was apprehensive.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that she had traded one evil for another.
She owed my father a debt, and it terrified me.
I didn’t care what the favor was. Didn’t care if it was harmless or strategic or something my father thought would “protect” her.
The specifics didn’t matter, not when the fundamental truth remained unchanged: Donovan didn’t do anything for free, not even for his own sons.
And now Kaylor, my girl, was tangled in his bullshit.
My stomach knotted, twisting itself into tight, painful coils.
I was already planning how to sever whatever tie he thought he had over her, mentally mapping out the conversations, the threats I’d need to make, how I could convince him to transfer the debt to me when Raine said, “We got a problem.” He was holding his phone.
“What now?” Mason grumbled.
“Evan says we have company. A lot of company,” Raine informed.
Fuck me.
My head snapped to Jesse. He stood near Rusty’s body, hands hanging at his sides, fingers still stained dark with blood. He didn’t flinch under my glare, didn’t look away, didn’t make excuses. He just stared back at me, chin lifted, defiant.
“What did you fucking do?” I demanded, my voice dropping dangerously.
Jesse brushed the blood off his hands, smearing it across his jeans and leaving dark streaks. “I’m not the only one with trust issues, Corvo.”
“You called backup,” Mason snarled.
“Damn right I did,” Jesse replied flatly. “You think I wasn’t going to protect myself? Or her?” His chin tipped toward Kaylor, still tucked against my side. “You all have someone to lose. So did I.”
Engines rumbled in the distance, growing louder with each passing second. Four blacked-out cars rolled up the dirt path, their headlights slicing through the trees as dust kicked up in their wake, swirling in the light.
They came to a stop, one after the other, doors swinging open in near unison. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Vipers stepped out, tattooed, hard-faced, and packing. Kaylor’s father’s crew.
Her legacy.
My fucking headache.
Guns whipped up instantly, barrels gleaming under the thin spill of moonlight. Static tension sizzled between the two crews, familiar and old, born from years of uneasy coexistence.
“Easy,” my father barked as he turned his gun, not in surrender but in placation. “We didn’t come here for this. Not tonight.”
One of the older Vipers with steel woven through his beard stepped forward. “It looks like you got what you came for.” When his gaze slid to Rusty’s cooling corpse, his mouth flattened.
“He deserved what he got, Lucian,” my father replied.
“The decision should have fallen to us. Not you, Donovan,” Lucian retorted, speaking for the crew. I guess he was stepping into the role of boss.
“He threatened my family,” Dad stated.
Lucian’s gaze paused on Kaylor. And softened. The hard lines around his eyes eased fractionally, and something almost paternal fluttered across his weathered features.
Kaylor’s fingers pressed deeper into my arm.
“She isn’t yours. You took her,” Lucian accused, and he wasn’t half wrong, but that was then, and right now, she was mine, and she wasn’t leaving with anyone but me.
Dad’s hands fell to his side. “If that’s what this is about, she is free to leave. I won’t stop her.”
He was bluffing. I knew it. He knew it, but Lucian didn’t. Even if he let Kaylor go with them, I sure as hell wouldn’t. As if Mason, Maddox, and Raine anticipated what my response would be, they adjusted their stances. “She’s not going anywhere,” I growled.
Lucian held up a hand as a dozen weapons shifted an inch in my direction. I’m guessing the Vipers didn’t like my tone. “Jesse?” he prompted, but I didn’t know what Lucian was conveying or asking of him. I had an idea. If a fight was what they wanted, I’d be more than accommodating.
Jesse swiped at his face before he started coming our way. His feet seemed heavy, dragging slightly on the ground. He paused in front of me, glaring with too many fresh and raw emotions. “You hurt her, and you’ll have every Viper hunting your ass.”
“If I hurt her,” I said, leveling my gaze with his, “I’ll let you kick my ass.”
Jesse’s eyes moved to the girl in my arms. “I’m assuming you want to stay.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, Jesse.”
Hurt flashed in his eyes, and I couldn’t blame him for his disappointment. I just wish he would find another girl to care about. Kaylor had too many damn men in her life. “Don’t apologize, Bubbles.”
Carson snorted from his position pressed against his car as Jesse passed by. For once, Kaylor’s best friend and I were in agreement, but Carson still had a lot to answer for.
A murmur passed through the Vipers, anger and grief and relief all tangled into an indistinguishable knot. Some of them spat on the ground. Others just stared, faces ruthless.
“We’ll take care of the body,” Lucian said gruffly, his voice rough with decades of cigarettes and shouting orders. “He may have betrayed everything we stand for, but he was still one of ours. We take care of our own.”
My father put his gun away. “And how can I be assured nothing will trace back to my crew, that there will be no blowback?”
One of the younger Vipers curled his lip. “We’re trusting you with an heiress. The title is hers if she ever decides she needs it, as is our protection. We don’t abandon our own.”
My father’s mouth curved faintly. “Let’s call her what she is. Collateral damage.”
Over.
My.
Dead.
Body.
“You’re not using her,” I barked loud enough for both sides to hear me.
Lucian gave me a short nod. He agreed. “No, we’re not.
” When Lucian spoke again, it was directed at me.
“We’ll be checking in on her.” His chin dipped toward Kaylor, eyes never leaving my face.
“Making sure she’s alive. Not being dragged into more trouble than she already survived.
As long as she’s happy, we won’t have a problem. Understood?”
I nodded once, meeting his stare. “Crystal.”
Kaylor leaned into me, trusting and warm.
Raine tugged Maddox back by the shirt. “Come on,” he muttered, his head jerking toward our SUV. “We’re done here.”
The Vipers moved past us toward Rusty’s body, giving us a wide berth but making their presence known. Someone produced a tarp, heavy plastic that crinkled as it unfolded, from one of the cars.
Carson stood tense at my back, watching everything with disbelief.
“We’re leaving,” I murmured to the girl in my arms.
Kaylor didn’t resist when I guided her toward Carson’s car, my hand on the small of her back. She moved on autopilot, feet carrying her forward mechanically. She slipped into the passenger seat, and I circled to the back, positioning myself where I could keep eyes on Carson.
Mason, Maddox, and Raine piled into the SUV parked behind us while my father headed for his own black sedan parked at an angle. He was already on the phone, the device pressed to his ear as he slipped behind the wheel.
Jesse stayed with the Vipers.
With his father’s body.
As Carson started the engine, I twisted in my seat, glancing out the back window to see Jesse kneeling beside Rusty one last time.
His shoulders were hunched, head bowed. Then the trees swallowed him, darkness closing in like a curtain falling, and I couldn’t shake the thought gnawing at the back of my mind.
The trouble wasn’t over. Not fully.
Rusty might be dead, but tonight, the lines between enemies and allies had blurred beyond recognition, bleeding together until I couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. Kaylor’s world and mine had collided with a force that would not let us walk away untouched.