Chapter Forty
THE ROAR OF engines cut into the night like thunder chasing lightning. My brothers and I rode hard, fast, the kind of pace that broke rules and roads alike. Every mile slammed into my chest with one thought, one name—Wren.
We hit the rutted parking lot as one. Gravel spit under our wheels, the warehouse looming black against the sky. No hesitation. No second chances. We stormed.
The first lock didn’t last a second. Maul’s boot splintered the door.
Scyth and Rex swept in first, guns raised, their shouts rolling over the walls like a warning bell.
The sound of boots, of safeties clicking off, of voices claiming space, it was chaos meant to rattle prey.
I was behind them, weapon drawn, my blood boiling hotter with every step.
And then I saw her.
Wren.
Her body pulled tight against Bones’ chest like a shield. His arm banded her waist, his other hand steady around a gun pressed cruel to her temple. Her face was pale but fierce, eyes wide, locked on me the second we broke through. She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just found me.
Something inside me split.
Bones grinned like the devil himself, eyes glinting in the thin light. “Well, well. I should’ve figured the old man squealed like the rat he is,” he sneered, voice slick, calm as ever. “Guess you get to watch me kill this bitch.”
I raised my gun. “Let her go.” My voice didn’t shake. Didn’t have room for it. “Now.”
He pressed the barrel harder to her skin, the metal biting into her temple. “Or what? You’ll paint the walls with me? Don’t tempt me, boy. I’ll take her with me first.”
Every muscle in my body screamed to lunge, but one wrong move and she was gone. The club fanned out behind me, every weapon trained on him, but Bones didn’t waver. He was patient. Hungry. Ready to bleed us all just to prove he could.
“Look at you, puppy,” he whispered against her ear, loud enough for me to hear. “Your man is here, but he can’t save you. Not from me.”
Her eyes flickered—fear, fire, a prayer. And then, to my shock, she moved.
Her elbow jerked back hard into his ribs. It wasn’t much, but it was sharp enough to make him grunt, to jostle the gun just off her skin. Her voice, raw and shaking, cut the air: “Ashen!”
The sound of her calling my name—her voice so loud and strong—lit something inside me, a blaze that burned through every shred of hesitation. My grip tightened on the gun until the metal bit into my palm. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might break free.
Bones jerked Wren hard, shoving the gun harder into her skin. My stomach dropped when I heard a click, but then a growl sounded, and everything broke.
Dusty.
What the fuck?
He came out of the shadowed corner, staggering, face bloodied, eyes hollow but set with rage. For a second my brain couldn’t catch up, couldn’t understand. But then he was moving, lunging, both arms wrapping around Bones from behind, dragging him back with every ounce he had left.
“Now!” Dusty roared, his voice tearing from somewhere deep.
Bones cursed, spinning with fury, the gun ripping free from Wren’s temple. The shot cracked, deafening in the concrete room. A bloom of red spread across Dusty’s chest as the bullet tore through him.
“NO!” The word ripped from me raw, my body already moving, scared Bones would fire again—at Wren.
She collapsed free, stumbling forward, scrambling across the floor on hands and knees, away from the danger, toward us. Toward me. That spark of fight still in her eyes even through the terror.
Bones twisted to bring the gun back around, but I was faster. I slammed into him, the world narrowing to nothing but the fight.
We went down hard. The gun went wide. My fist found his jaw, his ribs, his throat, every strike fueled by every scream I imagined Wren had given over the years. Bones buckled but clawed back, a savage animal, his teeth bared as he caught my arm and tried to twist me off.
We hit the wall with a crash that rattled steel.
My knuckles split on his cheekbone, pain sharp and grounding.
He grabbed for the gun, fingers brushing metal, but Scyth’s boot kicked it out of reach.
Behind us I heard Wren cry out, the brothers shouting, the chaos of it all, but I didn’t stop. Not until the fight bled out of him.
Bones dropped, chest heaving, blood streaking his mouth. Breath ragged, body broken, I pressed the barrel of his own gun to his temple. My voice was a growl from somewhere deep. “You don’t touch what’s mine.”
I pulled the trigger. Bones dropped, lifeless, the grin finally gone.
And then it was over.
The silence that followed was thick, broken only by Wren’s sob and the wet rattle of Dusty’s breath. I turned. He lay crumpled, blood blooming fast across his cut. Wren was already on her knees beside him, her hands pressed desperate to the wound, whispering his name, whispering please.
Dusty’s eyes found mine through the haze, glassy but sharp with regret. “Tell… tell my kids…” He coughed, blood catching in his throat, his hand twitching against Wren’s. “I love ‘em. Always.”
Wren’s tears fell silent onto his chest. My hand closed over hers, holding, steadying, because she was shaking too hard. Dusty’s chest rose once more, then stilled. His eyes went empty.
Gone.
For a long breath, no one spoke. The room was heavy with grief, sweat, blood, and the weight of too many choices. Maul swore low under his breath. Rex lowered his gun. Scyth muttered something that might have been a prayer.
I pulled Wren into me, my arms locking around her as if I could keep the whole damn world out. She buried her face against my chest, fists knotted in my cut, and I whispered into her hair, fierce and raw, “You’re safe. I’ve got you. He’ll never touch you again.”
The others stood silent, heads bowed, not for Bones, but for Dusty. A brother who’d been lost, broken, and at the end had given everything he had left to make it right.
And I swore to myself, as I held the woman who was my whole damn world, that I’d never waste the second chance Dusty had bought us with his last breath.