Chapter 6 #2
Blade goes straight to Bri, cupping her face in both hands and pressing his forehead to hers like he needs that second to breathe.
He kisses her, slow and firm, then shifts his palm to her belly, thumb brushing over the curve that already owns his whole damn soul.
“I’ll be back,” he murmurs against her hair.
“You and the baby stay right here. Doors locked.”
Bri nods, eyes wet but fierce. “You come back to me in one piece.”
Switch pulls Bella into his arms next, lifting her off her feet for half a second before setting her back down and kissing her hard, like he’s trying to leave a mark that’ll last until he gets home.
He presses his forehead to hers, hands sliding to her waist. “You call if you need anything,” he says quietly. “Anything at all.”
Bella swallows and nods. “Just come back to me.”
“I will,” Switch says, and it’s not a promise, it’s a fact.
I look back at Brooke, and for a second the hallway and the guys and the plan all disappear, and it’s just her and me and the way she’s gripping my hands like I’m her anchor.
I glance at her sisters and Ansley. “You stay with her. Razor and Ghost are posted outside, and they’re not leaving. Nothing and no one gets near this house, but you keep the doors and windows locked. You stay inside. You don’t open that door for anyone unless it’s Razor or Ghost. You got me?”
“We know the drill, Rev,” Bella says, wiping at her face but holding it together like the badass she is. “Go handle it. We’ve got her.”
Bri tightens her arm around Brooke’s shoulders. “She’s not alone. Not for a second.”
Ansley nods. “We’re not letting her out of our sight.”
I look back at Brooke, and for a second my chest tightens so hard it almost hurts.
“I’ll be back,” I promise. “And when I am, I’m not going anywhere.”
Her fingers squeeze mine one last time. “Be careful.”
That nearly breaks me, but I lean in and press a kiss to her forehead instead, slow and steady. “Always am, Princess. Especially when it’s for you.”
Then I stand, because if I don’t leave right now, I’m not sure I will at all.
Blade’s already at the door, Switch right behind him, both of them looking like they’re heading into war.
And I’m right there with them.
The clubhouse is already packed when we roll in.
Bikes line the lot, engines still ticking as they cool, and the second we step inside, I feel it. That shift. That charged, electric quiet that only happens when church gets called fast and nobody’s laughing.
Riot comes in right behind us, laptop tucked under one arm, eyes already scanning the room like he’s clocking exits and faces at the same time. He drops into the chair at the table without a word and flips the screen open, fingers moving before Mason even starts talking.
The officers are already seated. Mason at the head, Blade and Switch taking their spots, with Dagger, Tank, and Piston filling in the rest. The other brothers line the walls, lean against pool tables and support beams, arms crossed, faces hard, waiting.
Nobody’s here by accident. Everybody knows something went down.
Mason waits until the last man is inside, then plants his hands on the table. The room goes dead silent.
“Tonight, one of our own was attacked,” he says, voice calm but heavy as hell. “Brooke Calloway. Bella and Bri’s sister. Iron Reapers family.”
A low, dangerous murmur moves through the room, like thunder rolling in.
“She got away, and she’s safe right now,” Mason continues. “But that doesn’t change what happened, and it damn sure doesn’t change what comes next.”
My jaw tightens, heat crawling up my spine.
“This wasn’t random,” Mason says. “This was a man who knew who thought he could do whatever he wanted without consequences.”
He pauses, letting that sink in. “That was a mistake.”
Nobody argues. Nobody even breathes. Mason turns his head toward Riot. “Let us know when you’ve got something.”
Riot doesn’t even look up from the screen. “I’ve got something.”
That gets everyone’s attention. “Already?” Dagger says, brows lifting.
Riot finally lifts his eyes. “Yeah. I ran his license plate through city traffic cams and parking sensors as soon as Rev gave me the name. Tracked his route after he left the overlook.”
He turns the laptop so the officers can see a map pulled up with a blinking dot. “I followed him all the way back to his house. Gated community on the downtown side. He pulled in less than an hour ago. He should still be there.”
Tank cracks his knuckles slowly. “So he went home like nothing happened?”
Riot’s mouth tightens. “Looks that way.”
Mason doesn’t rush it. He studies the map on Riot’s screen for a long second, jaw working like he’s already running through options in his head. “We don’t handle this at his house,” he says finally. “Too many cameras. Neighbors. Security. I’m not dragging heat down on us or the girls.”
Riot nods. “He’s in a gated development. Cameras at the entrance, probably inside the house too. Quiet extraction is possible, but we don’t stay there.”
“Good,” Mason says. “Then we don’t.”
He looks around the table. “We take him off-site.”
That lands heavy and solid in the room.
Blade leans forward. “Warehouse?”
Mason shakes his head. “Old freight building on County Road Twelve. We used it last year when we had that issue with the Saints. No cameras. No traffic. Plenty of privacy.”
Switch’s mouth curves slow and mean. “I remember that place.”
Mason’s gaze shifts to Riot. “You can loop his home security?”
Riot’s already typing. “Give me two minutes and his cameras will be on a delay. Long enough to get inside, get him out, and be gone.”
“Good,” Mason says. Then he looks at me, Blade, and Switch. “You three are the grab team.” No argument. No hesitation. “You go in fast, controlled, and quiet,” Mason continues. “No weapons unless he pulls first. You get him cuffed, bag his head, and move him to the van.”
Tank shifts off the wall. “I’ll drive transport.”
Piston nods. “I’ll ride shotgun.”
“Dagger, you and Bones set the perimeter,” Mason says. “Anyone comes near that house, they get redirected.”
Switch cracks his neck. “And if he runs?”
Mason’s eyes go cold then looks to Switch, Blade, and I then smirks. “That won’t be a problem.”
Mason straightens. “The objective is not murder. The objective is to send a message.”
My jaw tightens. “He touched our family.”
“I know,” Mason says, holding my gaze. “And he’ll pay. But he pays in a way that keeps Brooke and her sisters safe. We do this smart, not sloppy.”
Blade nods once. “Understood.”
Switch smirks. “Smart can still hurt.”
Mason’s mouth twitches. “Plenty.”
He pushes off the table. “Mount up. We move in three.”
The room explodes into motion. Men grabbing jackets, helmets, weapons getting checked and tucked away. Riot shuts his laptop and tucks it under his arm, already heading for the door.
As we file out, Mason falls into step beside me, voice low so only I can hear. “You want me to pull you off this if you get too close to the edge, Rev?”
I don’t even look at him. “No.”
He studies me for a second, then nods. “Then I trust you to finish it without crossing lines we can’t uncross.”
“I will,” I say. And I mean it. Not because Whitaker doesn’t deserve worse, but because Brooke deserves better than blood on my hands.
Outside, engines roar to life, the pack forming up fast and tight.
And somewhere across town, Grant Whitaker is about to find out exactly what happens when you touch the Iron Reapers family.