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She paused.
“He laughed. He claims Mick and his men were guys being guys, and ‘at least he didn’t get away with it.’ He told me if I didn’t want attention, I shouldn’t dress like bait—even though he bought most of my wardrobe.
“I wore a hoodie and jeans. I was sixteen. He barely gave me the time of day. Just waved me off like I was a fucking nuisance interrupting his murder-plotting schemes.”
I leaned down to kiss her temple lingeringly, but she had one last thing to say.
“I still gave him unconditional love, but that was the day I stopped being his daughter and instead became his puppet. I just didn’t know it yet.”
Caroline turned to me, taking both my hands in hers. Her eyes were so beautiful, looking up into mine. Her mouth was like a bow, sweet and blood-stained. “Thank you for being my second chance. I’ve never had that before—never thought I needed it, then never thought I would get it. I’m not used to mercy. You gave me that capability—to feel. To care about someone other than myself.”
I wanted to crack a joke about her sudden ability to say thank you, but I knew it wasn’t the right time. Nor was it the time for goodbye-sounding confessions.
I tried to talk her out of it. “You said it yourself, baby, that he doesn’t give a shit about you. You betrayed him multiple times now. Why would he do anything you ask?”
Caroline straightened, looking suddenly coy and quite proud of herself. “Because I am an actress.”
Jackson cleared his throat loudly before I could make a comment. “That isn’t a plan, lady. That’s?—”
“Fine. What do you propose instead?”
Suddenly, it was a standoff between a president and a disgraced president’s daughter. Both were formidable to a fault—and really fucking stubborn.
All the guys, including me, looked back and forth between them like an intense tennis match.
“How about,” Mason said, intervening, “we work it out civilly. This is her territory. We can use it to our advantage. She killed that bastard with one shot while seven of us couldn’t.”
And then the attention went to her and Mason. I was utterly floored.
For a second, no one spoke. Caroline stood even straighter, bolstered by what we all thought we would never hear in a million years: a compliment from Mason Ledger.
“Wow, man,” I said. “Who knew blood loss could make an honest man of you?”
Mason snorted, then flinched in pain. Brody gave him the evil eye. “Honesty is subjective. I’m just saying this next phase is too important just to throw out ideas.”
Caroline nodded. “Yes. No more unprepared fistfights. No gunfights out in the open. No more letting the enemy get away.”
She turned first to me, then to Jackson, where there was suddenly a heavy weight between them. This whole MC war began with William Black and Walter Bates.
It was going to end with Jackson Black and Walter Bates.
“This war ends here and now,” Caroline said. She held his burning gaze until he gave the smallest of small nods, then met each of the Devils. “We’re all on our last leg. We all have people who depend on us to stay alive. You have babies on the way. They need their fathers. I don’t need mine to take that away.”
Abel’s throat bobbed. I knew he was thinking about Elle and their baby, just a few months away from being born. I looked at Jackson. He suddenly had something in his hand—a small piece of paper, his head bent to stare at it.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Jackson’s jaw worked as if debating whether to show it or not, then huffed and straightened, flipping the paper over for his MC to see.
It was a wallet-sized photo of Jackson holding Sam’s belly. It was clearly a candid shot. The Devil’s Luck’s big, bad president wouldn’t be caught dead in public doing something so tender, looking so vulnerable.
Silence settled among us. Damn, that was a weird reality check. Killing Bates was more important than being Reno’s vigilantes. This was about ensuring two babies were born into a life where their parents weren’t living day to day, wondering if a psychopath was going to burn down their home.
Caroline laced her fingers tightly in mine but spoke to my found family. “Walter will be dead within the hour. I swear it. Your babies, your homes, your fucking bikes—they’ll be untouchable. I swear on the blood I’ve already spilled.”
Goddamn, I didn’t know vengeance speeches could give me a hard-on, but here we are.
I looped my arm around Caroline’s waist and pulled her close to me, grinning at my brothers. “You heard her. Let’s spill some more.”