Chapter Forty-Seven
CHARLESTON HAD ITS own kind of darkness. Neon bled off wet streets, laughter spilled outta bar doors, and the air carried salt and rot from the harbor.
We tailed Gabrial’s men easy, our convoy stretched just far enough we didn’t draw eyes. Devil led, sure and silent, rest of us fallin’ in behind.
The SUV pulled up outside some white-tablecloth joint where the rich folk paid too much for wine and meat they barely cooked. They got out like they belonged—jackets sharp, hair slick, eyes cold. Calculated. Always calculated.
We watched ’em go in, watched the valet take their keys.
Mystic leaned forward in his seat, drumming restless fingers on his knee. “This don’t smell right. They’re too calm.”
Chain grunted from beside me, his eyes locked on the glow spillin’ out the restaurant windows. “Men don’t sit down to surf-and-turf in the middle of a hunt. Not unless they’re already fed.”
I said nothin’, just kept watchin’. The itch between my shoulders wouldn’t quit.
They were inside near an hour. Came out slow, casual, talkin’ low amongst themselves. Then it was back into the SUV, headin’ across town. We followed, keepin’ shadows between us.
They pulled up to one of the ritziest hotels in Charleston. Marble steps, doormen in white gloves. Not the kinda place a pack of killers usually bedded down. But they walked in calm, checked in like they had reservations waitin’.
“They’re bedding down here,” Devil said, his eyes on the hotel.
“Or makin’ it look like they are,” Mystic muttered.
I narrowed my eyes, watchin’ the gold doors swallow ’em. Too neat. Too easy.
Spinner spat a curse. “So we hit the lobby, drag Gabrial out by his damn throat?”
“No,” Devil snapped before I could even open my mouth. His gaze stayed locked on the hotel, hard as stone. “We’re not storming no five-star full of cameras and uniforms. That’s exactly what he wants, us in cuffs while he slips off clean.”
Mystic swore, slappin’ his palm on the handlebar. “So what, we just watch?”
Devil’s jaw flexed. “I’m beginning to believe that’s the plan.”
Silence. None of us had.
“Just not ours,” he added. “He wanted us to see him. It’s theater. Shadows, not the man himself. Gabrial isn’t sitting in a hotel suite waiting on us. He’s too smart for that. I’m willing to bet he walked right out the back.”
Engines idled low, heat seepin’ into our boots from the concrete. The frustration sat thick in the air, but Devil was right. If we made a move here, we’d be buryin’ ourselves before the real fight even started. But if this is a set-up then that means—
My phone buzzed before the thought could take root.
Jacob.
I snatched it up, putting it on speaker. “Talk.”
His voice came rough, rushed, road noise loud behind him. “Thunder, you need to get back here. Now. Two black vans just tore outta your momma’s drive.”
Ice hit my veins.
“You see ’em loadin’?”
“No. We rolled up just in time to see tail-lights vanishin’ down the county road. I’m on ’em now, but they’re pushin’ ninety.”
My pulse roared in my ears. “Hunter?”
Another voice cut in, breath ragged. Hunter. “Inside’s a mess. Front door’s busted. Chairs overturned. There’s blood on the table. They’re gone, brother. Miriam, Sable, the kids—they’re gone.”
The words cut me open raw. For a second, I couldn’t breathe.
Then fury hit, red and wild.
“Fuck!” My fist slammed the handlebars.
“We’ve been played, ” Devil snarled, his face a mask of rage.
It sank in like a nail to the skull. They’d dangled bait, Gabrial parading with his men through Charleston like kings. And while we sat watchin’, they gutted the one place I swore was safe.
Jacob’s voice broke through. “I’m stayin’ on ’em, but if they split, I’ll lose track.”
“Stay on ’em,” Devil ordered. “Don’t get close, don’t get dead. Just eyes.”
“Understood.”
Hunter’s breath rasped heavy. “Thunder, I’m sorry. It was fast. They had everything timed it looks like. Back door wide open. Shears on the floor. Blood… not much, but enough.” His voice cracked. “Her bunny’s here, man. Zara’s bunny.”
That image hit harder than a fist.
Not the blood. Not the busted door.
The bunny.
Face down in the hall, button eyes starin’ blind.
“I’m gonna kill him.” My voice came out shredded. “I swear to Christ, I’ll burn him down for this.”
“Not alone you ain’t,” Horse growled.
Mystic’s knuckles went white on his handlebars. “We ride now. Don’t care if hell itself’s in the road.”
Devil’s voice cut clean. “Back to the house. All of you. Now. We regroup before we do a goddamn thing else.”
Engines roared. The convoy spun hard outta Charleston, lights flashin’ off storefront glass as we tore down the strip and out onto the highway.
I barely saw the road. My head was nothin’ but flashes, Sable’s eyes in lamplight, Malik’s careful questions in the garage, Zara’s giggle at breakfast, Momma’s braid swingin’ as she worked the kitchen. Now all of it was in his grip. Gabrial’s.
The roar of engines carried across dark fields. Gravel spit fire as we turned up the long drive.
The house waited, silent and broke.
We were off our bikes, boots hittin’ dirt, weapons ready though it didn’t matter. War had already been here.
The porch light busted. The front door hangin’ crooked, splinters scattered across the entry. Inside, the kitchen lay in ruins, chairs overturned, glass shattered, a dark smear of blood across the table.
And there it was.
The bunny.
Zara’s. Lyin’ in the hall, soft ear bent, one button eye starin’.
The sight near knocked me to my knees.
Mystic bent low, picked it up gentle like it still held her warmth. He didn’t speak. Just set it on the counter.
Hunter stood stiff by the wall, pale, jaw tight. “They fought. Hard.” He pointed at the blood, the snapped shears on the counter. “Miriam didn’t go easy.”
Bolt’s fists curled, voice low, lethal. “She never would.”
I stood in the wreckage, the silence screamin’ louder than any battle I’d fought. My chest heaved. My hands shook.
“They ain’t gone,” I rasped. “They’re taken.”
Devil filled the doorway, shadow heavy, voice steady steel. “And we’ll get ’em back. But not blind. Not reckless. Gabrial wanted this, he wanted you burning rage before you could think. Don’t give it to him.”
I turned, eyes blazin’. “He laid hands on my family.”
“And he’ll pay,” Devil said, unshaken. “Every mile, every man, every drop of blood, it’ll be his. But we do it smart, or we lose ’em for good.”
Silence stretched thick.
I forced myself to breathe. To swallow the fire. For now.
But starin’ at that bent, button-eyed bunny, I swore on every drop of blood in me—
I was gonna make Gabrial burn in the flames he worshipped.