Page 26

Ghost

M erc’s face is already busted by the time I walk into the room. Not from me, but from Siege.

He sits dead center in the concrete-floored room in the basement we call our interrogation room. Merc knows what we use this room for—and that he’s got no way out except in a body bag or by giving us what we want.

Right now, his lip is split. One eye’s swelling shut. His arms are zip-tied behind the chair because we don’t trust him.

Siege stalks back and forth. He hasn’t said a word in a full minute. He’s letting the silence spin out, giving Merc’s mind a chance to run away with him.

Rigs stands off to the side, arms folded across his chest, eyes dark.

I never knew him before, but I’ve heard tales.

He used to step forward for executions, taking all the darkness inside him.

That was until he met his old lady. However, the way he’s glaring at Merc I suspect that the darkness isn’t very far from the surface tonight.

Merc’s breath is shallow. He’s sweating now, even in the cold. Blood is drying on his cheekbone, and I can tell he’s trying real hard to figure out how to squirm out of this.

Siege finally stops pacing right in front of Merc and stares at him for a long, hard moment.

“You didn’t pull the trigger,” he says, voice like gravel. “But my old man’s blood is on your hands just the same because you were part of the conspiracy.”

Merc licks his split lip. “It wasn’t my idea, and I didn’t pull the trigger.”

Rigs pushes off the wall. “But you went along with it.”

“I didn’t know they were going to fuckin’ kill your old man. You think Butch told us that kind of shit? He was a paranoid fuck who didn’t trust anyone.”

“You knew,” Siege snaps, taking a step forward. “You knew Butch and Carnage were planning something, and you kept your mouth shut. That makes you just as dirty.”

Merc shifts in his seat, trying to square his spine. “I’m not the monster. Carnage is. He was the one who took pleasure in watching your old man die.”

Siege hits him hard across the jaw, sending Merc’s head sideways. When he spits blood out of his mouth, a couple of teeth come flying out as well.

“You stood with Butch and Carnage,” Siege says. “And because of that, my father died with his eyes open, bleeding out beside his bike while the club he built tore itself apart.”

“I’m not responsible for what other fuckers did,” Merc groans, spitting out more blood.

“You are, though,” Rigs says, quieter now. “Even if you didn’t throw the match, you stacked the kindling.”

Siege’s hands curl into fists again. I can see that he wants to end this. Wants to let rage finish what grief started. But then Rigs steps forward—not towards Merc, but towards Siege.

“Let me take care of this fucker,” Siege growls.

Rigs just shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I’ll do it, so you don’t have to carry the guilt. It’s too much of a burden.”

Siege calms down some. “You don’t need to carry this forever either. You’ve got Mattie, Rosie, and Evan now. You can’t slip back into the darkness.”

Rigs looks Merc dead in the eye. “And I won’t let you make Siege carry the burden of ending your sorry life either. So, we’ll give you one chance to walk out of this situation alive.”

Siege frowns and forces himself to get on the same page as Rigs. “Okay, you give me Carnage, and in return, you leave here breathing. Betray the Legion again, and you’re a dead man.”

Merc’s chest is heaving now. He knows this is it. Finally he cracks.

“There’s a cabin,” he chokes out. “It’s in the middle of nowhere. I drove him out there once. He’s a paranoid fucker who doesn’t stay long in one place, but he stashed gear. He has a burner. He checks in every few days.”

Siege narrows his eyes. “Where?”

Merc gives us coordinates. My hand’s already in my pocket, texting Zen.

Then Siege crouches down, eye-level with the man who helped gut our club back in the day.

“You help us find Carnage. You deliver him to us, and you get to go home—wherever the fuck that is. You show your face in Las Salinas after that, and I’ll finish what I started tonight.”

Merc nods, trembling. “I’ll turn him over to you. He was always the most unhinged fucker in our group. He’s nothing but trouble.”

Siege straightens, turns to Rigs, and nods once.

When I glance at my phone, Zen’s already pinging location data. It’s time to hunt.

I need to touch base with Heather, to see with my own eyes that she’s okay.

I find her in the upstairs suite—the same one where she got ready for the gala.

Apparently, it used to be Rigs’ suite before he got a place for him and his family.

Right now, she’s curled up in one of the chairs by the window, still in that glittering dress.

She’s barefoot and quiet. Her face is stained, like she’s been crying.

Her eyes find mine the second I walk in.

“I heard you found one of the other betrayers. Brittany said you were interrogating him for information on where to find Carnage.”

I’ve always thought Tusk tells his old lady too much about club business.

But I guess seeing as she used to be a club girl, she’s probably seen enough club action to know what goes down.

But I don’t want that for Heather, I don’t want her to be scared when I walk out the door. “Yeah, we know where he is.”

“Tell me you’re not going alone,” she says softly.

“I’m not.” I cross the room, crouch down in front of her, and take both her hands in mine. “Siege, Rigs, Tex—half the brothers are already gearing up. But I need you to stay here, alright?”

She frowns. “At the clubhouse?”

“Yeah. Right here. This room’s got a private lock, thick door, and it’s dead center in the building. Zen and the prospects are posted all over the building and the property outside. It’s easier to defend one fortress than a dozen little houses. You’re safest here.”

Her fingers tighten around mine. “I get that the club can’t spare prospects to guard me at your place when there’s so much going on. Staying here is no problem.”

“Good. Your safety is the most important thing in the world to me.”

Her hands tighten in mine. “And when you’re out there? Who’s keeping you safe?”

I lean in, press my forehead against hers. “Don’t worry about me. I’m tough as nails and have my club brothers at my back. Just keep the door locked and the light on until I come back, alright?”

She kisses me before I can pull away. She’s always so soft and sweet with me. Enough to make my heart ache for more.

“I hate waiting and worrying,” she whispers.

“I know, darlin’. But this? This ends it. He shows his face again—he doesn’t leave breathing.”

“Will you let me know when the danger is over and you’re on your way home?”

“I’ll call you first thing after we get him.”

I kiss her again, deeper this time. I pray nothing goes sideways this time. I want to get my hands on Carnage so bad I can taste it.

When I pull back, I kiss her knuckles, one by one. “I love you, sweetness. Lock the door behind me.”

She nods. “Come back to me, Ghost. That’s all I ask.”

I go downstairs to the main meeting room. We call it church when we’re having a club meeting, but right now it’s more like a war room. We’ve used this space for club strategy before, but this time it’s personal.

When I take a seat, everyone is whispering. The mood of the room shifts as Siege steps inside.

Zen’s already got a satellite map pulled up on the old projector screen.

It shows the coordinates Merc gave us. He wasn’t joking when he said its location is remote.

The satellite images show no neighbors. The closest gas station is fifteen miles out.

There’s no through traffic on the dirt road leading to the cabin.

In other words, it’s the perfect place to hide out.

Siege plants both hands on the table and states flatly, “Carnage is living at that cabin. Merc says he rotates locations, but he left gear there. Weapons, burners, food. He’s coming back. And we’re gonna be waiting.”

Tusk leans forward. “Any security?”

“Maybe cameras. Possibly traps,” Zen says. “Nothing wired. He’s off-grid. But I wouldn’t rule out trail cams or early warning systems.”

Rigs crosses his arms. “He trained for this kind of stealth in the military. He knows how to disappear, but he also knows we’re coming for him.”

I growl, “That’s why he ran tonight. He knows damn well what’ll happen to him if we get our hands on him.”

Siege nods. “He’s thoroughly obsessed with your girl. He was willing to take a terrible risk just to get close enough to rattle her.”

Rigs responds, “Instead, he exposed himself.”

Tex slams a fresh mag into his Glock. “Now we take his damn head off.”

Siege looks to Zen. “You running command from here?”

“Yep. Venom is heading back from his mom’s and should be here in fifteen minutes. He’s got the new drone he was working on. I’ll monitor drone feed once you’re all on-site.”

“Good,” Siege says. “We move in teams. Rigs, Tex, Ghost—you’re with me. Tusk, Tank, Rider, Dutch, Talon, and Vapor circle the perimeter. The rest of you hold back as second wave. If any of us fall, you step in.”

Siege announces, “Everyone associated with our club lays low. Our old ladies, kids, and club girls stay locked down. No one else needs to bleed tonight.”

There’s a low hum of agreement from the room. Old military instincts kick in for many of us. The way a crew moves when things get dangerous reminds me of sharks when there’s blood in the water.

We all finish gearing up. I check my sidearm.

Double-check the blade strapped to my vest. No one speaks to me, but I know they feel what I feel.

This isn’t just a takedown. This is closure—for our club, but for our club president most of all.

These fuckers have been running free for way too long, and it’s high time we finish this.

***