Chapter 28 #2
Sophia lifts her arm. Metal flashes in the light. Then thunder cracks.
Pain erupts in my side. The bullet punches through me just above the hip. My legs falter. Air catches in my lungs like broken glass. I drop to my knees with a grunt, blood flooding down the inside of my jeans, hot and thick.
“Aero!” Lacey screams, twisting in Sophia’s grasp, but Sophia yanks her closer, backing toward the far door.
“I warned you, didn’t I? You shouldn’t have walked away from me like I was nothing.” Sophia hisses, dragging Lacey with her like some twisted trophy.
“You were nothing,” I bite out, choking on blood. “And you still are.”
She sneers, raising the gun again.
Lacey shifts. Her eyes catch mine. Not fear. Not panic.
Fury.
Pure and righteous.
Sophia doesn’t see it coming.
Lacey’s hand flashes to the small of her back, where she stashed an extra pistol taken off one of her fallen men. She jerks it free, spins in one motion, and with both hands gripping the weapon, she shouts, “Get your fucking hands off me!”
The shot echoes around us.
Sophia’s eyes widen. Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Her grip slips. The gun falls from her hand before she does, blood blooming red across the bodice of her dress. She crashes to the ground at Lacey’s feet like a marionette with its strings cut.
Lacey doesn’t look away. Doesn’t blink. She just breathes hard, shoulders shaking, staring down at the woman who nearly destroyed everything.
“There’s nothing I won’t do to protect my baby.”
Sophia coughs, blood flecking her lips. Her hand scrapes weakly toward the fallen pistol. Lacey kicks it away.
“Aero’s baby.” She serves Sophia one final dig.
I drag myself toward them, each movement lighting fire through my side. My hands are wet with blood. Lacey rushes to me, drops to her knees, her arms catching me before I hit the floor completely.
“I’m here,” she says, breathless. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
“I told you…” I rasp, pressing my forehead to hers. “I told you I’d get you out.”
“You did,” she whispers, brushing blood-slick hair off my face.
Around us, the gunfire dies down. The battle’s ending.
Sophia doesn’t move again.
Lacey clutches me tighter. “I love you, Jaxson Stone.”
“I love you, Bambola.” I lower my face, pressing a kiss to Lacey’s belly, “and I love you, Pulcino.”
The door bursts open behind us, boots pounding, voices shouting.
My brothers flood the room like a damn storm.
Relief crashes through me like a wave, but it’s short-lived.
My knees threaten to buckle. Lacey holds tight as I stagger forward, one hand on her back, the other pressed tight to the wound at my ribs.
I find the nearest support beam and lean hard against it, my breath ragged. The wood’s rough against my palm, but it holds me up.
Padre rushes to help, his jaw tight as he tears open a pressure bandage. “Hold still, Prez.”
The taste of blood is still sharp on my tongue. My cut’s soaked through. The bullet tore clean, but I’ve lost a lot of blood and every breath feels like it’s lined with razors.
Lacey hasn’t left my side. She’s crouched beside me, one hand clamped around mine. Her shirt is stained with blood. Some of it hers, most of it not. Her knuckles are scraped raw. There’s a gash across her arm that I keep glancing at it like I can somehow undo it.
Across the warehouse, the cleanup has begun. Garett’s body is a twisted mess near one of the fallen beams. Sophia lies where she dropped. Blood soaking into the cracks of the wooden floor beneath her, her eyes frozen open in disbelief.
There’s dead silence now, except for the low murmur of voices, the creak of boots on the boards, and the occasional crackle of a dying fire from the explosions.
Hashtag stands a few feet away, face pale behind his glasses. I wave him over.
“I hear we have you to thank for this.”
Hashtag steps over the rubble, a satisfied glint in his eye. “It was nothing, Prez.”
I chuckle even though it hurts. “I doubt that, kid.”
He shrugs offering up the details. “I knew something was wrong when your phone went dark. Figured maybe it was off, until Lacey’s stopped pinging too.
” I let him continue. “Backtracked her last signal. One tower hit off the highway. Checked nearby traffic cams, found footage at a gas station. Saw that black Ford roll up on you. Ran the plate. It was registered to a Ricci front. Cross-checked Ricci holdings. Found this place tucked under a dummy corp. We rolled as soon as I had it confirmed.”
I nod once, the weight of it all crashing down. “You did good.”
He shakes his head like he’s still processing it. “Did what had to be done, Prez. Wasn’t gonna lose you.”
“Thank you.” Lacey whispers as Hashtag starts to walk away.
“Oh.” Hashtag says, pulling something from his pocket and tosses it back. I reach up with a wince, catching it one-handed. The weight of my keys familiar in my hand.
“Figured you’d want your bike back once the dust settled,” he says. “It’s outside. When you’re ready to get the hell outta here.”
Hashtag leaves us alone again. Lacey brushes her thumb along the back of my hand. “You could have died.”
“But I didn’t.” My voice is a rough whisper, but it gets a hint of a smile from her.
Grizzly drops to a crouch in front of us, his beard streaked with soot. “We’re clear. What’s left of the Ricci family is in a pool of blood.”
“Except for Antonio.”
Lacey shifts closer, pressing her forehead to my temple. “It’s not over is it?”
“I’ll handle Antonio. Sophia and Garett might be his kids but they double crossed him. He won’t let that slide.”
“I hope you’re right.” I press a reassuring kiss to her head. I hope I’m right too.
We sit in the wreckage together, just breathing. The adrenaline’s fading now, leaving only pain and the raw weight of what we’ve survived.
I turn to her slowly, my eyes meeting hers. “I meant what I said, Bambola. I love you and I won’t let anyone hurt you or our baby. Ever.”
“If we’re going to do this,” she murmurs, her eyes wet with tears. “Really do this, then you have a responsibility to take care of my heart.”
That hits me deep. “Bambola, I’ll take care of more than that.”
I lean forward, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“I swear to God, Aero, if you ever shut me out again.”
“I won’t.” And I mean it because for the first time in a long time, I want to live every second of this life with her. With our kid.
“Let’s go home.” I stand, slow and aching, and reach for her. Her fingers grip mine, firm despite the tremble. Together we climb over the splintered wreckage, stepping through the blood and ruin like survivors clawing their way out of hell.
The sun’s breaking over the horizon by the time the clubhouse comes into view.
Blood’s still drying in my hair. My ribs are cracked.
My body screams with every bump in the road, but I don’t stop.
I’ve got Lacey on the back of my bike, her arms wrapped tight around me, head pressed between my shoulder blades and that’s the only thing that matters.
I feel her shift, her palm gently flattening against my side where I took that bullet. I cover her hand with mine and give it a squeeze as the gates of the RBMC compound creak open. A few of the guys are already back. Pike, Surge, Crank. They nod when I roll in.
I kill the engine just outside the door and help Lacey off. She’s stiff, sore, bruised, but when she turns to me, her face is something else entirely, like she’s trying to figure out how the hell we’re still standing.
“Come inside,” I say, voice hoarse. “Let me clean you up. Let me take care of you.”
She looks at me for a long beat, like she’s still unsure if she can trust me with her heart.
“I’m in this, Lacey. All the way. I want to be the kind of man who doesn’t just fight monsters. I want to be the man that little kid looks up to. I want to be better. For them. For you.”
A tear slides down her cheek. She wipes it away before I can reach for it. Silence stretches between us again. Then she finally steps closer, resting her hand against my chest. “Let’s go inside.”
So we do. Things aren’t perfect yet, but it’s a start.
We survived hell. Now it’s time to build something real. Something strong. Something ours.