6. Kane
SIX
KANE
By the time I leave Bella's house, the rage has settled into something useful. It doesn't make me reckless. My father's anger did that. King would tear through a room because somebody bruised his pride, then leave the rest of us to work out what his temper had cost.
I don't want noise; I want an answer so complete that nobody mistakes it.
A brother stays beneath the trees across from Bella's house while I ride back to the compound. Another takes the road behind it.
The clubhouse is awake despite the hour, every brother who lives off-site called in. The room beyond them is full.
"Fenn?" I ask.
"Cash found him at the river motel," Judge says. "He gave us Dekker's location."
"Easy?"
Cash rubs his knuckles. "Eventually."
Judge opens the church door. A map is spread over the table.
Dekker has taken over an old freight depot upriver, a concrete box beside a disused loading dock.
Two trucks, four cars, nine men that we know about, and enough product stored inside to make the river route worth fighting over.
He came prepared to build an operation, and the rock was only the first brick.
"Power comes in here," Judge says, tapping the map. "Wilder can cut it from the service road. Back gate's chained, but Cash says the lock's nothing."
"North side?" I ask.
"River."
"Boats?"
"One tied at the dock."
"Tank takes it."
Tank nods. Around the table, men listen without speaking. Nobody questions my decisions. Whatever else they think of my presidency, somebody came into our town, attacked a woman under our protection, and set fire to her business while she was still inside. That part is simple.
"Bodies aren't the objective," I say. "The operation is. Vehicles, product, money, weapons. We take away every reason they came here."
"And Dekker?" Judge asks.
"He leaves breathing."
Griz shifts. "Doesn't that make us look soft?"
I shake my head. "No." I meet his eyes across the table. "He carries the warning."
Nobody says anything after that. We ride out thirty minutes later.
Not in one roaring column, the way King would've done it. We split before the highway, approach from three roads and kill our lights before we reach the depot.
The night is thick and warm beside the river. Insects grind in the weeds, and water knocks softly against the pilings beneath the old loading dock.
Wilder cuts the power at one fourteen. The building drops into darkness.
Cash is through the side gate before the backup lights come on. Tank reaches the dock and deals with the boat. Judge and six brothers move on the front entrance while the rest close around the yard.
By the time Dekker's men understand they're surrounded, their vehicles can't move and their only open exit leads straight to me.
One of them comes through the side door carrying a shotgun. Griz puts him on the ground before he can raise it.
The next man is smarter and drops his weapon. The third tries to run toward the river and meets Tank.
It's over quickly, though not quietly. There are a few punches, one gunshot into concrete when a man's hand jerks the wrong way, and bodies on the ground, conscious enough to understand what's happening and hurt enough not to interfere.
Kingdom Come moves through the depot with the efficiency of men who've spent years doing worse things for worse reasons.
Cash and Wilder empty a safe. Judge collects documents and phones.
Brothers destroy enough product to wipe out months of profit.
Dekker watches it happen from his knees in the middle of the warehouse.
Blood runs from his nose onto the white shirt he wore when he met me upriver.He looks less expensive now.
I walk toward him. One of his men groans nearby. Another curls around a broken arm. Dekker lifts his head. "You made your point. You said I'd get a warning."
"You got it."
I stop in front of him. "You put a rock through her window. And you tried to run her off the road. Then I stood in front of you and told you exactly what would happen if you touched her again."
His gaze flicks toward the yard, where his operation is being dismantled piece by piece.
"She's alive."
The sentence is a mistake. I hit him hard enough to turn him over. He catches himself on one hand and tries to rise. I kick his arm out from under him, then haul him upright by his shirt.
"She was inside."
"I didn't order--"
"You ordered the pressure. You picked the target. Everything after that belongs to you."
He swings, slow and desperate. I block it and drive my fist into his ribs. Something gives beneath the blow. He folds, but I don't let him fall. The rage stays exactly where I put it, neither wild nor blind, but aimed.
I hit him again, and the memory of Bella on the ground outside the Landing flashes through me. Soot in her hair. Her cough. Her hand lifting to my face because she saw my fear and tried to comfort me while her cafe burned behind her. Another blow drops Dekker to one knee, and I drag him back up.
"You thought my father dying made Ransom available."
Blood coats his teeth when he breathes. "You're proving me right about the club."
"No." I drive him into the concrete pillar behind him. "I'm proving you wrong about me."
His knees give out and I crouch in front of him. "You saw me change the rules and decided that meant I wouldn't enforce them. That's the mistake men like you keep making."
He spits blood onto the floor. "What do you want?"
"I want you to understand the price."
"I understand."
“I don’t think you do." I grip the back of his neck and make him look through the open doors at what remains of his operation.
The trucks sit on ruined tires. The boat lists against the dock, slowly sinking.
Brothers carry the last of the cash and weapons into the yard while smoke rises from a steel drum where the documents and phones burn.
"This is what it costs when you test my town," I say. "What happened to you is what it costs when you touch her.” His breathing turns shallow.
I release him. "You'll be gone by sunrise."
"And if I'm not?"
"You won't get another lesson."
He thought King was the dangerous Calhoun because King was cruel enough to do anything. What he understands too late is that cruelty without control wastes itself. I know exactly what I'm willing to do. That makes me worse.
Judge approaches as I stand. "Yard's clean."
"Leave them two cars."
His eyebrows lift.
"They need something to leave in."
Judge nods and turns away. Dekker stays on the floor while we finish. He doesn't threaten me again.
***
By the time we ride back into Ransom, the sky is beginning to pale. We pass Bella's street without slowing. The brother beneath the trees lifts two fingers as we go by. She's safe, and for now that has to be enough.
The table is full when I call church. Nobody's changed clothes. Blood marks knuckles and shirts. Adrenaline still runs hot through the room, but it quiets when I take my place behind my father's empty chair.
"What happened tonight is finished," I say. "Dekker's leaving. His operation's gone. Ransom stays ours.” Approval moves through the room, low and rough. I wait until it dies. "Now we deal with what happened here.” Griz's jaw tightens, which is good.
"If anyone's got a problem with Bella being under this club's protection, they've got a problem with me.” Nobody looks away, but nobody speaks either.
"She heard what was said after the fire. She heard men who patched beside Red for thirty years talk like keeping his daughter alive was some favor they were tired of giving."
Griz leans forward. "I was angry. I didn't say she deserved what happened."
"You said she wasn't ours.” His mouth flattens.
I look around the table. "Red Rourke was a brother in this club for thirty years. King decided he stopped counting. The rest of you let that decision stand because it was easier than challenging my father."
A few faces harden. Chains doesn't move. Judge sits beside me, steady as stone.
"My father decided who counted," I say. "I decide different."
Griz's fingers curl against the table. "You can't rewrite every call King made."
"Watch me." The room goes still and I straighten. "My club. My gavel. You answer to me."
Griz holds my gaze for several seconds. He isn't converted, and I don't need him to be. I only need him loyal.
Finally, he dips his chin. "Understood."
A few other men follow. Chains gives nothing except silence, but he stays in his chair and doesn't challenge the call. That's enough for tonight.
I pick up the gavel and bring it down once, ending church.
***
The air around Rourke's Landing still smells heavily of smoke. The fire crews are gone. Yellow tape hangs loose across the entrance, and the front windows are black around their broken edges.
Bella stands inside what used to be the dining room. Her auburn hair is twisted into a knot, though half of it has already escaped. She picks up a piece of the shattered pastry case and sets it in a box.
I stop several feet behind her. She knows I'm there. Her shoulders stiffen before she turns.
Her gaze moves over my face, my hands, the dried blood on the cuff of my shirt.
"You dealt with it."
I stop beside her. “It has."
"What does that mean?"
"They won't come again."
She studies me. She looks around at the burned walls. "That doesn't fix this. Or what I heard."
"I know that."
She folds her arms, not as armor this time but to hold herself together.
"Whatever you heard, they've been put right."
"Because you ordered it?"
"Yes."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?"
"They're not in charge, Bella. I am." The words echo softly through the ruined cafe. "What I say goes, and what I say is you.” Her face shifts.
I keep going before control gives me another excuse to stop.
"You're the one I've always loved.” Her breath catches.
"The one I always will. I should've told you before any of this," I say.
"Before your father lost his patch. Before mine made everything between us something I didn't think I had the right to touch. "
Her eyes fill.