Chapter 9 #3
When she hangs up, I nod once, satisfied. “Now, the police. Same story.”
“The police?” she squeaks, panic returning. “But I already told the hospital…”
“Sexual assault is a crime,” I remind her. “You committed it. Own it.”
The second call is harder for her, but with Mark’s stern encouragement and my unwavering gun, she manages a full confession to a detective who sounds increasingly disgusted as she speaks.
When she’s done, I finally lower my weapon, though I don’t put it away.
“One last thing,” I say, pulling out my phone and opening the voice recorder app. “I want you to say it again, on record, for Dr. Blane. Everything you just confessed.”
She complies, defeated now, reciting her crimes in a monotone that contrasts sharply with her earlier dramatics. When she finishes, I put my phone away, satisfied.
“If you ever try anything like this again with anyone, this recording goes public. To your family, your friends, your next employer. Everyone.” I move toward the door, pausing to look at Mark. “Get her help. Real help. Or next time she might target someone who won’t be as merciful as me.”
He nods, looking at his wife with a mixture of disgust and pity. “I will. And… I’m sorry. For what she did to your doctor.”
I don’t acknowledge his apology, just slide the door open to leave. Before I step out, I turn back one last time. “The Devil Souls have a long memory, Alex. Remember that.”
The ride back to the clubhouse clears my head, the wind scouring away the worst of my rage. By the time I pull into the parking lot, I’m calm again, centered. The recording on my phone is insurance, yes, but also vindication for Xavier.
Inside, I find him sitting with Grey and a sharp-looking man in a suit. The lawyer, presumably. Their conversation stops when I enter, Xavier’s eyes immediately finding mine and searching for answers.
I pull out my phone, set it on the table between them, and press play. Alex’s confession fills the room, her voice small and defeated as she admits to everything.
* * *
Xavier
The lawyer takes the recording, a predatory smile spreading across his face. “This is exactly what we need.”
Zach moves to my side, his hand coming to rest on the small of my back. The solid warmth of his touch grounds me, anchoring me when everything still feels unsteady.
“How did you…” I begin, then shake my head, deciding I don’t need to know the details. “Thank you.”
He simply nods, the look in his eyes telling me everything I need to know. He’d do anything to protect what’s his. And somehow, against all odds, that now includes me.
The clubhouse door bursts open, and Demon rushes in, his expression tense. “Grey, we’ve got a problem. Lookouts spotted Reaper scouts circling the perimeter again.”
Grey’s face hardens instantly, the president replacing the supportive friend. “How many?”
“Just two this time. Keeping their distance but definitely watching.”
I feel Zach stiffen beside me, his entire demeanor shifting as he slips into enforcer mode. “They’re getting bolder.”
“Or more desperate,” Grey mutters, already heading toward the chapel. “Meeting. Now.”
* * *
Riggs (Reapers MC)
I slam my fist against the wall of the motel room, cracks splintering through the cheap drywall. My lieutenants flinch but stay silent. They know better than to speak when I’m in this mood.
“Three men dead at the bank,” I seethe, pacing like a caged animal. “Three more missing from the warehouse run. And the hospital plan failed completely.” I whirl on my VP, eyes burning. “So tell me how the fuck Devil Souls keep getting the drop on us.”
Viper, my second-in-command, clears his throat. “They’ve got good intelligence. Better security than we anticipated. And their enforcer—”
“Slaughter.” I spit the name like poison. “That self-righteous bastard thinks he’s untouchable.”
“He’s just doing his job,” Viper says, then immediately regrets it when I step into his space.
“Are you defending him now?” I growl. “After what they did to our brothers?”
“No, boss. Just stating facts. We need to be smarter about this.”
I step back, forcing my rage down until something colder takes its place. “You’re right. We’ve been too scattered. Too predictable.”
I move to the makeshift map of Devil Souls territory pinned to the motel wall, my fingers tracing the boundaries until they stop at the clubhouse marked in red.
“We’ve been hitting the periphery,” I say, tapping the map. “The hospital. The bank. Individual members. But that’s not how you kill a snake.” My finger stabs the clubhouse. “You cut off its head.”
Viper approaches carefully, studying the map. “The clubhouse is a fortress, boss. Cameras. Reinforced doors. Armed members twenty-four seven.”
“Which is exactly why they’ll never expect a direct attack,” I say, a vicious smile curling my mouth. “They think we’re too smart to try it.”
“With respect,” Crusher interjects, “we’d take heavy casualties.”
I turn on him, letting my expression harden. “You afraid to die, Crusher?”
He stiffens. “No, sir. Just considering the odds.”
“The odds change when you have a surprise.” I rip the map down and spread it across the table. “And when you have this.”
From my cut, I pull out a folded sheet of paper and smooth it flat. The room leans in as recognition hits—blueprints. Detailed. Precise. The Devil Souls’ clubhouse.
“Where did you get these?” Viper asks quietly, fingers hovering like he’s afraid to touch them.
“Not everyone in Devil Souls territory is loyal to Grey,” I say, tapping the page. “Look here. Service entrance to the basement. Minimal security. Blind spot.”
Excitement replaces hesitation as I outline the plan.
“We hit them at dawn, when most of them are sleeping it off. Two teams. One causes chaos at the front gate. The other comes through here.” I trace the route through the building. “We eliminate anyone we find, but the priority targets are Grey and Slaughter. Their VP, Trenton, is out of town.”
“And the doctor?” Crusher asks. “Word is Slaughter’s claimed him.”
A cruel smile twists my face. “Especially him. Nothing hurts like watching someone you love die in front of you. I want Slaughter to see it—really see it—before we put a bullet in his head.”
Silence settles over the room. This isn’t about territory anymore. This is annihilation.
“When?” Viper finally asks.
I study the blueprint one last time, decision locked in.
“Tomorrow. First light.”
* * *
Xavier
I can’t sleep. Despite the comfort of Zach’s arms around me, despite the exhaustion weighing on my body, my mind refuses to quiet.
The events of the past week swirl in an endless loop: the hospital shooting, Alex’s lies, my firing and vindication, and now this new threat lurking just beyond the clubhouse walls.
Carefully, I extract myself from Zach’s embrace, smiling slightly when he mumbles in his sleep but doesn’t wake. The enforcer may be hypervigilant when on duty, but in sleep, his trust in the security of his own room allows him to rest deeply.
I pad to the window, peeking through the blinds at the clubhouse grounds below. The predawn light casts everything in shades of gray, security lights creating pools of harsh brightness against the shadows. Prospects patrol the perimeter, alert despite the early hour, weapons visible on their hips.
A fortress, as Zach called it. But even fortresses can fall with the right strategy.
I shake the thought away, unsettled by my own fatalism. This isn’t like me, I’m usually the optimist, the one who believes problems have solutions if you just work hard enough. But the past week has shaken that certainty, replaced it with a wariness I’m still learning to navigate.
Movement at the edge of the property catches my eye. A flash of something near the tree line, there and gone so quickly I wonder if I imagined it. I lean closer to the glass, squinting into the darkness.
There it is again, a shadow moving where no shadow should be, detaching from the trees and sliding toward the back of the property, away from the patrolling prospects.
My heart rate kicks up, pounding in my ears as I watch another shadow join the first, then a third. This isn’t my imagination. Someone is approaching the clubhouse from the blind side, using the trees as cover.
I turn, rushing back to the bed. “Zach,” I whisper urgently, shaking his shoulder. “Zach, wake up.”
He comes awake instantly, years of training overriding the pull of sleep. His hand reaches for the weapon on the nightstand before his eyes are fully open. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s someone outside,” I tell him, keeping my voice low. “By the tree line, moving toward the back of the property.”
He’s out of bed in one fluid motion, pulling on jeans as he moves to the window. I follow, pointing to where I saw the movement. For several long seconds, he stands perfectly still, eyes scanning the darkness with an intensity that reminds me of a predator.
Then I see it, his slight tensing, the narrowing of his eyes as he spots what I saw. “Fuck,” he breathes, already reaching for his phone. “How many did you see?”
“Three, maybe four,” I answer, my mouth suddenly dry. “Is it them? The Reapers?”
Instead of answering, he dials, speaking the moment the call connects. “Grey. We’ve got company. Northeast corner, moving toward the service entrance. At least four that Xavier spotted.” He listens briefly. “Understood. Activating protocol now.”
He ends the call, immediately dialing another number as he pulls on a shirt and reaches for his cut. “Butcher. Code red. Northeast perimeter breach in progress.” Another pause. “Yeah, Xavier saw them from our window. Wake everyone, quietly. Positions in three minutes.”
As he pockets his phone, I see the transformation complete, my lover disappearing entirely behind the enforcer’s cold efficiency. He moves to a cabinet I’ve never seen him open, unlocking it with a key from around his neck to reveal an arsenal that makes my breath catch.