Chapter 10 #3
The convoy forms—twenty-five men on motorcycles and in trucks, a wall of leather and chrome, ready to end this today.
Shadow's in the truck now with Banshee, and he looks back at me one last time.
Our eyes meet across the parking lot.
Then he's gone.
They all are.
The rumble of motorcycles fades into the distance, and I'm left standing in the compound with Siren, Sakura, Charlie, the rest of the women and children, and three Reapers Rejects prospects who drew the short straw to stay behind on guard duty.
"Come on," Siren says, touching my arm. "Let's go inside. No point watching the road."
The clubhouse feels empty without the brothers.
Too quiet. Too still.
Siren, Sakura, and I sit in the main room.
Charlie's at my feet, cone bumping against my leg as she shifts.
The rest of the women and kids are running amuck, but I’m really focusing on the small group in front of me.
Nobody's talking.
We're all just... waiting.
I check my phone. 8:59 PM.
They should be there by now. At the lot. Facing Copperhead Kings.
Facing Flint.
"Stop," Siren says, not looking up from her own phone. "Checking the time every thirty seconds won't make it go faster."
"I know. I just—" I can't finish the sentence.
Sakura reaches over, squeezes my hand. "They'll be okay. It's twenty-five against maybe ten. The odds are overwhelmingly in their favor."
"Unless it's a trap," I whisper.
"Then they spring the trap and deal with it." Siren's voice is matter-of-fact. "That's what they do, Grace. They handle shit, with whatever means are necessary."
I nod, but my hands are shaking.
Shadow's out there. My father's out there. My brother's out there.
All the men I love, riding into a confrontation with a man who threatened to cage me.
Minutes crawl by.
9:10 PM.
9:15 PM.
They're there now. The meet is happening.
9:25 PM.
My phone rings.
Unknown number.
My heart stops.
"Should I—"
"Answer it," Siren says, her voice sharp. "Could be one of the brothers."
I answer, hands shaking. "Hello?"
Static. Then a voice I don't recognize. Male. Cold. Older.
"Is this Grace?"
"Who is this?"
"This is Venom. Flint's father. I think we need to have a conversation."
My blood turns to ice. "How did you get this number?"
"Same way my son did. We have resources." His voice is calm, controlled. Dangerous in a way Flint's wasn't. This is a man who's been running an MC for decades. "Your father and your husband just showed up at our meeting with overwhelming force. Very aggressive. Very disrespectful."
"You threatened me. Your son came into Reapers Rejects territory uninvited. You started this."
"Did we?" Venom sounds amused. "Or did your brother start this nine years ago when he murdered my son?"
I can't breathe. Can't think.
How the fuck would he know Shiver was the one who killed Bronco?
"What do you want?"
"I want what was paid for. Four million dollars bought you for my family. Your father can bring all the brothers he wants. Doesn't change the debt."
"I'm not property. I'm a person. I'm married. This is over."
"It's over when I say it's over." Venom's voice hardens, losing the amused tone. "You tell your father and your husband that this doesn't end tonight. This doesn't end until the debt is paid. One way or another."
The line goes dead.
I'm shaking so hard I almost drop the phone.
"Grace?" Siren's voice is sharp. "What did he say?"
"Venom. Flint's father. He called me. Said this doesn't end tonight." My voice is barely a whisper. "Said it doesn't end until the debt is paid."
Sakura stands. "We need to call Damon. Now."
But before she can move, we hear it.
Motorcycles.
Multiple engines. Coming fast.
Way too soon.
They shouldn't be back yet. The meet just started ten minutes ago.
Unless something went wrong.
Siren's already moving, hand going to the gun at her hip. "Stay behind me."
The three prospects are on their feet, weapons drawn, moving toward the door.
The engines get louder. Closer.
Sakura hollers for the other ol’ ladies to get the kids in the safe rooms, downstairs in the armory, anywhere they can run.
Then bikes continue to roar into the compound.
But not ours.
Different cuts. Different patches.
Copperhead Kings.
"Get back!" Siren shouts, pushing me behind her.
The prospects raise their weapons, but they're outnumbered.
Ten Copperhead Kings brothers pour into the compound, guns drawn, spreading out in a practiced formation.
And in the center, climbing off his bike with a smile that makes my skin crawl—
Flint.
"Hello, Grace," he says, his voice smooth and cold. "Told you I'd collect what's mine."
Siren steps in front of me, gun pointed at Flint's chest. "You're on Reapers Rejects property. Uninvited. You leave now or you die here."
Flint laughs. "There's three prospects, two women, and a dog. Against ten of us. Do the math, sweetheart."
One of the prospects moves, reaching for his radio to call for help.
A gunshot.
The prospect drops, clutching his shoulder. Not dead. But down.
Sakura screams.
Siren's finger tightens on the trigger, but Flint's faster. His gun is aimed at my head before she can fire.
"Drop it," he says calmly. "Or Grace dies right here. Your choice."
Siren hesitates, her eyes meeting mine.
I shake my head slightly. Don't.
But Flint cocks the hammer. "Now."
Siren lowers her weapon, her expression murderous.
Flint's smile widens. "Good choice." He looks at me, and his eyes are cold. Empty. "Now, Grace, you're going to come with me. Quietly. Or everyone here dies. Starting with your new friends."
"Shadow will kill you," I say, my voice shaking but defiant. "My father will kill you. You won't make it out of Vegas alive."
"Maybe." Flint shrugs, unconcerned. "But by the time they figure out where you are, you'll already be in that cage I promised you. And trust me, sweetheart—once you're there, they'll never find you."
He steps forward, reaches for me.
And I do the only thing I can think of.
I run.
I make it maybe ten feet before someone grabs me from behind.
Strong arms, rough hands, lifting me off my feet.
I scream, kick, fight with everything I have.
Charlie's barking frantically, trying to help despite her cone.
But there are too many of them.
Flint's in front of me now, his hand wrapping around my throat.
Not choking. Just holding. A promise of what he could do.
"Enough," he says quietly. "You can come quietly, or I can knock you out and carry you. Your choice."
I spit in his face.
His expression doesn't change. He just wipes the spit away calmly, methodically.
"Knock her out," he says to whoever's holding me.
I feel the hit coming but can't avoid it.
Pain explodes across the back of my head.
My vision goes dark at the edges.
Then nothing.
The last thing I hear before I lose consciousness is Siren screaming my name.