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Grime gives him a feral grin. “One road in and one road out. We’ve got the high ground.”

He barks out orders, frantic. “Slaughter, take the center of the room. There’s a trap door near the conveyor belt. Use it for cover.”

Carnage points at me like a curse. “If I fall, kill her.”

Grime nods, but his eyes never leave mine.

And the look says there is no chance of him following Carnage’s order—because if his leader falls, he’s claiming me for himself.

The room erupts into motion when the Legion bursts in. I cover my ears with my hands but can still hear the dull thud of boots and the slamming of doors. Lifting my hands slightly, I listen carefully, to every footstep and every barked command, straining to hear Ghost’s voice.

I see more movement from the back of the room, silhouettes entering the production floor.

Before, they were shooting from the shadows, but now they’re showing themselves.

Ghost is one of the first faces I recognize.

I’d know that frame anywhere. He has broad shoulders and walks with a sure footing.

His rifle is tucked tight to his shoulder as he scans his surroundings.

I don’t try to move because I’m still zip-tied to the radiator. Instead, I scream out a warning to the Legion, “They’re on the production floor! Watch the catwalk! Carnage has the high ground!”

Carnage whirls around to stare at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You little bitch! I’ll make sure you regret betraying me!”

As the fight rages on, my eyes roam around the room and I realize something—Carnage and the men who came to help him are scared. Then I see why. The Savage Legion has come with their own reinforcements, and their cuts say Sons of Rage MC. Brittany’s family. Together, they’re ferocious.

Suddenly, the Grave Diggers’ president—the man they call Marauder—motions his men to fall back towards the front of the room where the exit is located.

Grime is waiting patiently, but for what, I don’t know.

Carnage is unraveling, screaming commands that no one is paying attention to. Which means all I have to do is survive the next few minutes. Carnage climbs above me on the catwalk, snarling orders at the top of his lungs, still thinking he has control of this fight.

Everything is chaos. Shouting from both sides. The sharp crack of suppressed rounds echoing in bursts. Shouts for cover, footsteps scattering through the sugar-dust haze. Somewhere to my right, a crate explodes into splinters.

Grime’s hand snaps out unnaturally fast and snatches me closer.

It’s not for my protection. I feel his hatred in the way his grip squeezes me hard enough to leave bruises.

He pulls me tight to him. The knife in his hand comes up to my throat and presses just enough to let me know he has all the control in this situation.

“That was a fuckin’ stupid thing to do,” he hisses. “Let’s see if we can get your lover boy to drop his weapon.”

He shifts me in front of him, tucking in close. He absolutely reeks of sweat, urine, and body odor. Across the warehouse, Ghost sees me. I feel the atmosphere shift to something more dangerous and deadly.

And even though I can’t see his eyes through the gear and shadows, I know they’re locked on mine.

Grime tightens his grip. The knife’s edge lifts just enough to kiss the underside of my jaw.

“Let’s see who blinks first.”

It doesn’t take long for Ghost’s voice to cut through the chaos, sharp and clear. “Drop the knife. Let her go.”

Grime doesn’t flinch. He keeps the blade against my jaw. His hand isn’t shaking. He’s calm and poised.

Carnage is still snarling orders from the mezzanine, firing wildly. Unfocused. Unhinged. The Grave Diggers are all noping out the front door one at a time.

“Heather’s mine!” Carnage screams. “You come near her and I’ll—”

“That’s enough.” Grime’s voice slices through the fighting, firm and in charge.

That’s when Carnage freezes. Everyone freezes.

“You’ve lost the battle, Carnage,” Grime says. He’s not being loud, but every word lands with a resounding thunk. “You’ve gotten one of us killed. Two locked up. And now you’ve brought him here.” He tilts his head towards Ghost. “For what? To prove something? To burn it all down?”

Carnage’s voice wavers. “You want to talk this now? While we’re under fire?”

Grime chuckles. It’s the worst sound I’ve ever heard—dry and rasping. “You destroy everything you touch.”

Grime raises his voice, not yelling, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Savage Legion! I’ve got your girl. I’ve got Carnage’s secrets—including where his weapons caches are.

I know everything about his operation, safehouses, and which one of your club contacts he’s been sniffing around. I’m offering all of it.”

My breath catches in my throat because I almost can’t believe he’s actually turning on Carnage.

“Let me and what’s left of our crew walk,” Grime says. “You get the girl, all the intel in my head, and your fucking pound of flesh. If you kill us all, you get none of that.”

“You traitorous bastard!” Carnage bellows at the top of his lungs.

Grime turns his head just enough to speak over his shoulder. “Funny coming from you, the biggest betrayer of all time.”

Carnage fires at Grime, and the shot slams into the wall behind us. I jerk in Grime’s grip, causing the knife to make a shallow cut against my neck.

For the first time, I feel Grime flinch as well.

The warehouse goes quiet with stunned silence. Even the Legion’s side goes still. No one fires, shouts, or talks.

Grime looks down at me, the blade still in place. His lips curl into a tiny, playful smile.

“Still hard on my toys,” he whispers. “But I’m not stupid.”

Grime keeps me close, his eyes scanning the warehouse as if he’s already rewriting the outcome in his head. Carnage is still on the mezzanine, his gun pointed at us. His nostrils flare like a cornered animal who doesn’t know how to survive a hostile situation.

Ghost hasn’t moved from cover. Neither has the rest of the Legion nor the Sons of Rage.

Then the silence is broken. I hear whispers coming from the Legion.

I can almost make out the individual voices of Siege, Rigs, and Ghost’s deep, steady voice.

I can barely understand what they’re saying, but it sounds like they’re talking tactics, parsing risk.

Trying to get their heads around Grime’s offer.

A single word is shouted from Siege, “Deal.”

Grime nods once.

Carnage screams, “You’re siding with them? You think they’ll let you live, you psychotic piece of—”

The rest of his sentence never lands. Because he raises the gun in his hands—the one already pointed in our direction—and targets Grime’s face. Carnage’s mouth twists in rage as he gets ready to shoot one of his best friends.

Just before he can squeeze off a shot, Grime moves like a striking snake. Dropping the knife, he jerks out his own gun. The bang from Grime’s weapon is deafening.

Carnage jerks backward, a spray of red arcing across the railing before his body crumples. He falls off the side of the catwalk and hits the floor with a sickening splat.

Everything freezes again.

Then Grime deliberately lets go of my arm, stoops down, picks up his knife, and cuts the hellish zip tie off my ankle. “You’re free,” he says.

He says it like it’s nothing. Like he didn’t just have a knife to my throat.

My knees nearly buckle from the sudden absence of pressure, but I don’t wait. I run straight to Ghost without looking back. The cold concrete floor is shockingly cold against my feet, and everything around me is a blur. All I can think about is getting into Ghost’s arms.

I almost trip over Carnage’s body, but as I run past at breakneck speed, I realize he’s not quite dead. He’s lying there with a gunshot wound to his stomach, and his leg is twisted at an odd angle from falling off the catwalk.

Unwilling to stop for the man who planned to turn me into his own personal incubator, I run straight to the man I love.

Ghost steps from behind a metal beam the second I get close.

He shoulders his weapon and opens his arms for me.

I throw myself into him, and he catches me like he’s done it a thousand times before.

He easily lifts me off the ground, arms wrapping around me tight.

One of his big hands cradles the back of my head.

“I’ve got you, sweetness,” he says, his voice low and emotional in my ear.

And for the first time since this whole situation started, I feel safe again.

When Ghost lowers me to my feet, I turn to see what he’s looking at.

It’s Siege and the largest member of the Sons of Rage standing over Carnage, handguns drawn.

They bring their weapons up at the same time.

Siege says, “This is for your part in killing my old man.” He waits a brief second, while the other guy announces coldly, “This is for hurting my granddaughter. Brittany didn’t deserve what you did to her. ”

Ghost wraps his arms around me tighter and whispers, “Don’t look. You don’t want this memory floating around in your mind.”

When he turns my face to his chest, I let him. The sound of double gunshots rings in my ears for far too long before Ghost puts his arm around me and walks me out of the building.

Something about the fresh breeze caressing my face washes away some of the horror of what just happened.