Chapter 21 Hades #2
"I'll keep that in mind," I say, which isn't a promise but isn't a refusal either.
Isaacs seems to accept that. She heads for the door then pauses. "How is she? Evangeline?"
"Banged up. But alive. Ruin says she'll heal."
"Good. Tell her I'll need a statement when she's ready. And tell her... tell her I'm sorry we didn't move faster."
"Not your fault."
"Maybe not. But I should have seen this coming." She meets my eyes. "Make sure it ends tonight, Hades. One way or another."
She leaves, taking her uniforms with her, and I finally let myself breathe. Ghost appears beside me, arms crossed.
"We got lucky."
"Luck had nothing to do with it. Isaacs knows which battles to fight."
"Still, we need to move fast on the rest. Ethan Morrison's still out there, probably panicking, probably planning his next move."
"Then we end it. Tonight."
Ghost doesn't argue. Just nods and heads for the war room, where I know the others are already gathering.
But first, I need to see her.
I slip back into the room where Evangeline's resting. Ruin's gone, leaving us alone. She's asleep now, her face relaxed despite the bruising, breathing steady.
I pull a chair close to the bed and sit, taking her uninjured hand in mine.
"It's almost over," I tell her, even though she can't hear me. "Just one more thing to take care of, and then you're safe. Then we can start building that life we talked about."
Her fingers twitch in mine, and I wonder if she's dreaming. I hope they're good dreams, not nightmares about warehouses and torture.
I stay there until Ghost comes to get me, until duty pulls me away from the woman I love and toward the man who tried to destroy her.
* * *
Her eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, then finding me in the dim light.
"You're still here," she whispers.
"Told you I would be."
"The kids?"
"Still asleep. Willow and Natalia are watching them. They don't know anything yet."
She nods slightly then winces. "What happens now?"
I could lie. Could tell her everything's fine, that Isaacs is handling it, that justice will take its course through proper channels.
But I've never lied to her, and I'm not starting now.
"Now I make sure he can never hurt you again."
"Hades—"
"I know what you're going to say. That I don't have to do this, that the police will handle it, that violence isn't the answer." I squeeze her hand gently. "But, Angel, some things need to be finished by the people who started them."
"You didn't start this."
"Maybe not. But I'm going to finish it."
Tears well in her eyes. "Just come home. Whatever you have to do, just come home after."
"Always."
I lean down and kiss her forehead, breathing in the scent of her beneath antiseptic and blood. She's alive. She's healing. That's what matters.
"I love you," she whispers.
"I love you too. More than anything."
I force myself to stand, to walk away from her, because if I don't leave now I might not leave at all. And this needs to be done.
Ghost is waiting in the hallway. "Ready?"
"Yeah."
The war room is full when we enter. Rogue, Tempest, Savage, Sniper—all the brothers I trust with my life. All the brothers who've proven they'll go to war for family.
Ghost pulls up a laptop, showing a map with a red pin. "Got a hit on Morrison's burner phone. Pinged a tower near an old hunting cabin his family used to own. Property records show it's still in his name."
"How far?"
"Forty minutes. Middle of nowhere, one access road."
"Perfect place to hide," Rogue says. "Or a perfect place for an ambush."
"Could be both," Tempest adds. "But if he's running, he's desperate. Desperate men make mistakes."
I study the map, memorizing the terrain. Woods, isolated, defensible if you know it's coming. But Morrison's not a fighter. He's a businessman who hired muscle to do his dirty work.
And his muscle is dead.
"We go in quiet," Ghost says. "Surround the cabin, cut off escape routes. I want him alive long enough to answer questions."
"What kind of questions?" Savage asks.
"Who helped him? Who knew about the kidnapping? Whether the Shadow Hawks are done or if we're looking at more retaliation."
Savage nods. "And after we get answers?"
The room goes quiet. Everyone knows what I'm asking. What I'm planning.
"After we get answers, we make a decision. Together." I look at each of them. "This isn't just about revenge. It's about making sure Evangeline and those kids are safe. If Morrison lives, he's a loose end. A threat that could come back."
"And if he doesn't live?" Rogue asks quietly.
"Then we make sure it can't come back on the club. On Evangeline. On anyone."
"Detective Isaacs told you to let the law handle it," Ghost points out.
"She also told me to make sure it ends tonight. One way or another."
"Those aren't the same thing."
"No. They're not."
The weight of what I'm considering settles over the room. This isn't a heat-of-the-moment decision anymore. This is premeditated. Planned. The kind of thing that changes who you are.
"I won't ask any of you to be part of this if you don't want to be," I say. "This is my choice, my burden. But I need to know you'll have my back either way."
"Always," Tempest says immediately.
The others nod, one by one. Brotherhood isn't just about the easy times. It's about standing together even when the path gets dark.
"Then let's move."
We gear up in silence. Guns checked, ammunition counted, escape routes planned. This isn't our first operation, won't be our last. But it feels different somehow. Heavier.
Because this time it's personal.
I make one more stop before we leave. Evangeline's door is cracked, light from the hallway spilling across her sleeping form.
I don't go in. Don't wake her. Just stand in the doorway and watch her breathe, alive and healing and mine.
"I'm doing this for you," I whisper. "To keep you safe. To give us a future without looking over our shoulders."
I don't know if she hears me. But I need to say it anyway.
Then I turn and walk away, toward whatever ending this night brings.
* * *
The cabin is exactly where Ghost said it would be, nestled in woods so thick you can't see the stars through the canopy. One light burns in the window, casting long shadows across the clearing.
We approach in silence, brothers spreading out to cover all exits. Savage and Sniper take positions in the trees, rifles ready. Rogue circles around back. Tempest stays with me as we move toward the front door.
Inside, I can see movement. Shadows crossing in front of the light. Morrison's in there, probably thinking he's safe. Probably thinking he's got time to plan his next move.
He's wrong.
I try the door. Locked. One solid kick and it splinters inward, the sound echoing through the night.
Ethan Morrison stands in the middle of the room, a gun shaking in his hands. His expensive suit is rumpled, his face pale with fear and rage.
"Nowhere left to run," I say, stepping inside.
"Stay back!" He waves the gun wildly between me and Tempest. "I'll shoot! I swear to God I'll shoot!"
"No, you won't." I keep my voice calm, steady. The voice I use when I need someone to really hear me. "Because if you shoot, you're dead before you can pull the trigger twice. And you know it."
"You took everything from me!" Spittle flies from his mouth. "She was supposed to be mine! My wife, my life, my future! And you ruined it all!"
"I didn't ruin anything. You did that yourself when you had Marcus and Calla killed."
"They were going to expose me! Destroy everything I built!"
"You built a house of cards on stolen intelligence and blood money. It was always going to fall."
The gun steadies slightly, pointing at my chest. "None of this would have happened if you'd stayed away from her. If you'd just let me have what was mine."
"She was never yours."
"YES SHE WAS!" He's screaming now, control completely gone. "I molded her, shaped her, made her into exactly what I needed. And you destroyed that! You made her think she could leave me, could choose someone else!"
"She chose herself. I was just lucky enough to be there when she did."
"Touching." The gun doesn't waver. "Too bad you won't be there anymore."
His finger tightens on the trigger. I see it happening in slow motion, see the exact moment he commits to pulling it.
But Tempest is faster.
The shot rings out, deafening in the small space. Morrison staggers, the gun falling from his hand as he looks down at the spreading red stain on his chest.
"You..." He coughs, blood bubbling at his lips. "You killed me."
"No," Tempest says, lowering his weapon. "You killed yourself the moment you touched her."
Morrison drops to his knees then falls forward. His breathing rattles, wet and labored. Dying, but not dead yet.
I kneel beside him, making sure he can see my face. Making sure these are the last words he hears.
"Evangeline is free of you. Those kids are safe. And you'll die knowing you failed at everything that mattered."
He tries to speak, but only blood comes out. Then his eyes glaze over, fixed and empty.
Dead.
I stand, looking at Tempest. "You didn't have to do that."
"Yeah, I did. He was going to shoot you, and I wasn't going to let that happen." Tempest meets my eyes. "This one's on me, brother. Not you."
"We're all responsible."
"Maybe, but I pulled the trigger."
Ghost appears in the doorway, taking in the scene. "Clean?"
"Self-defense. He pulled first."
"The gun's still in his hand," Rogue says from behind us. "Powder residue will prove he fired."
Did he fire? I don't remember hearing a second shot. But the brothers are already moving, already setting the scene, already making sure the story holds.
"Detective Isaacs gets a call in the morning," Ghost says. "Anonymous tip about Morrison's location. When she arrives, she finds him dead, gun in hand, evidence of his crimes all over the cabin."
"And us?"
"We were never here."
It's clean. Professional. The kind of operation we've run dozens of times. But this time feels different. This time, a man is dead because of choices I made, paths I chose.
"Let's go," Ghost says. "Nothing more we can do here."
We file out into the night, leaving Morrison's body in the cabin that will become his tomb. Behind us, I can hear Rogue and Savage finishing the cleanup. Setting the scene. Making sure the story is airtight.
The ride back to the clubhouse is silent. Each of us lost in our own thoughts about what we've done, what it means, whether it was right.
I don't have those answers. Maybe I never will.
But I know one thing with absolute certainty: Evangeline is safe. The kids are safe. And we can finally start building something that isn't overshadowed by Morrison's threat.
That has to be worth something.
* * *
The moment we enter the clubhouse, I head straight for the bathroom, needing to wash the night off before I can face Evangeline again. The water runs red at first, Morrison's blood and my own mixing in the drain. I scrub until my skin is raw, until I can't smell gunpowder and death anymore.
But I can still feel it. The weight of what we did. What I asked my brothers to do.
Clean clothes. Deep breaths. Then I go to her.
Evangeline's room is quiet, just the sound of her breathing and the hum of the clubhouse waking up around us. I sink into the chair beside her bed, exhausted down to my bones.
Her eyes open, finding me immediately.
"It's over," I tell her. "You're safe now."
"What happened?"
"Morrison's dead. The threat's gone."
"Did you—"
"Does it matter?"
She studies my face for a long moment, reading things I can't hide. "No. I guess it doesn't."
"I'm sorry you have to know this about me. About what I'm capable of."
"I already knew. I just hadn't seen it up close before." She reaches for my hand. "Are you okay?"
"I don't know. Ask me in a few days."
"Okay." She squeezes my fingers gently. "But Hades? Whatever you had to do to keep us safe... thank you."
"You don't have to thank me for that."
"Yes, I do. Because you didn't just save my life. You saved our future. Mine, yours, and those five kids who need us."
Our future. Something worth building toward. Something worth the dark stains on my soul.
I lean forward, pressing my forehead against hers. "I love you."
"I love you too. All of you. Even the parts that scare me."
"Especially those parts?"
"Especially those parts."
I sit with her as the sun rises fully, chasing away the shadows of the night. In a few hours, the kids will wake up. We'll have to explain where I've been, why Evangeline's hurt. We'll have to start building the life we fought so hard to protect.
But for now, it's just us. Two people who've walked through hell and somehow found each other on the other side.
Hell's done taking from me. From now on, I build something worth living for.
Starting right here, right now, with the woman who taught me that love is stronger than violence, that hope is braver than rage, and that sometimes the best way to fight is to choose to keep living despite everything that tries to drag you down.
"Rest now," I tell her. "I'll be here when you wake up."
"Promise?"
"Always."
Her eyes drift closed, trusting me to keep watch. To keep her safe.
And I will. For as long as I live, I'll protect this family we're building from the ashes of everything we've lost.
That's my vow. My purpose. My redemption.
And it starts now.