Page 21

"The spic whore at the birthday party?" The Patriot grins through bloody gums. "Yeah, I remember. Shame we only got her. Was hoping for at least one of the kids, too."

Rio goes very still.

Too still.

Then he pulls out a photo—a heavily pregnant Flora holding baby Florencia, who's laughing.

"This was taken a week before you killed her," he says conversationally. "When you gave the order, did you know you were killing a pregnant woman?"

"One less welfare leech to?—"

Rio's knife opens him from sternum to navel.

Not deep enough to kill.

Just enough to hurt.

"Names," Rio says calmly. "Give us names, or I start pulling things out."

Maybe it's Rio's dead voice.

Maybe it's the realization that grief makes men capable of anything.

But the Patriot starts talking.

Names pour out between gasps of pain, all for the hope that he’ll somehow be able to survive this.

Suppliers in Mexico.

Distribution hubs across three states.

Corrupt cops, judges, politicians.

A network that goes deeper than we imagined.

Tor records everything on his phone, typing notes as fast as the Patriot speaks.

"Judge Morrison in family court. Senator Peterson on the appropriations committee. Chief Daniels in Fairfield PD."

Each name is another thread in a web of corruption.

"Dylan Mitchell," I prompt when he pauses. "What's his real role?"

"Smart boy, that one. Came to me over a year ago. Said he was dating some biker's daughter, could get inside information for the right price."

My blood freezes. "He targeted Everly specifically?"

"Of course. Kraken's daughter, the EMT who'd have access to all kinds of useful intel?" He coughs, blood bubbling on his lips. "Though I think he liked toying with her more than anything. She was fun to him, a game."

"What else?" Runes demands.

"Shipping routes. Safe houses. The whole network's in the computers upstairs." He's fading now, blood loss making him gray. "Password's AmericaFirst1488."

Of course it is.

Nazi piece of shit to the end.

"Tor, go get everything," Runes orders. "Download it all."

As Tor heads upstairs, the Patriot looks at Rio. "Do it then. Finish your revenge."

"This isn't revenge," Rio says quietly. "This is justice. Revenge would be finding your family. Your grandchildren. Showing them what real loss feels like."

For the first time, fear flickers in the Patriot's eyes. "You wouldn't?—"

"No," Rio agrees. "Because I'm better than you. But you'll die knowing I could have. That your hatred created men capable of being worse than you ever were."

He slides the knife between ribs, precise, final.

The Patriot gasps, shudders.

"For Flora," Rio whispers. "For Bjorn, for all of them."

The light fades from those fanatic eyes.

The boogeyman who's haunted us for years dies with a whimper, not a bang.

"Burn it all," Runes orders. "Every brick, every board. Nothing left but ash."

We work quickly, dousing everything in gasoline.

The drugs, the building, the bodies.

All of it has to go.

Brothers haul out gas cans, find kerosene, some even find lighter fluid, soaking every surface.

The chemical smell burns my nose, mixing with blood.

"Five minutes," Fenrir calls out. "Everybody out in five."

As we're setting the final charges, my phone vibrates.

I almost ignore it—we're on a run, no distractions.

But something makes me check.

Vail's name on the screen.

My blood goes cold before I even answer, and something tells me this isn’t a good call.

"What's wrong?"

"Regnor..." Her voice is carefully controlled, professional EMT mode. "You need to come to the hospital."

"What happened?" But I already know. Can feel it in my bones.

"It's Everly. She's... she's bleeding. A lot. We're at County General."

The phone slips in my suddenly numb fingers.

"The baby?"

"Still there for now. But Regnor, it's serious. She needs you. She didn’t want me to call since you guys are out on a run, but I know Vanir would want to know if it was me."

"On my way."

I'm moving before I disconnect, everything else forgotten.

The Patriot's dead.

The warehouse is rigged.

Mission fucking accomplished, for now.

None of it matters.

"What's wrong?" Fenrir asks, noting my face.

"Everly's in the hospital. Bleeding. The baby—" I can't finish.

"Go," Runes says immediately. "We've got this."

But Kraken's already beside me, face white. "What about my daughter?"

"Bleeding," I repeat. "Vail said—fuck, I don't know. We need to go."

For a moment, we just stare at each other.

All the anger, all the conflict, suddenly meaningless.

His daughter, my woman, our fear—that's all that matters now.

"I'm coming with you," he says.

I don't argue.

We're on our bikes in seconds, racing through the night.

The warehouse explodes into flames behind us, orange flames licking the sky, but I don't look back.

Don't care.

All I can think about is Everly in a hospital bed.

Bleeding.

Maybe losing the baby she's protected so fiercely.

The baby I claimed as mine.

"How bad?" Kraken's voice through the helmet comm.

"Don't know. Vail just said it's serious."

"Fuck." A pause. "She's strong. Like her mother.."

It's the first non-hostile thing he's said to me since finding out about us.

"Yeah," I agree. "She is."

"You love her." Not a question.

"More than anything."

"Good." His bike edges ahead. "Because if she loses this baby, she'll need that. Need you."

We hit a red light.

I blow through it without hesitation, Kraken right beside me.

Let the cops try to stop us.

"I shouldn't have been such a dick," Kraken says suddenly. "About you two."

"You were protecting her."

"No, I was being selfish. Wanted to keep her my little girl forever." He guns it around a slow-moving car. "But she hasn't been little for a long time."

"She'll always be your daughter."

"Yeah, but now she's your woman too. Mother of your kid." He's quiet for a moment. "You're a better man than I gave you credit for."

The hospital appears ahead, lit up like salvation.

We park near the entrance to the ER, not giving a damn if we’re supposed to be there or not.

Security starts toward us—two bikers covered in blood and smoke—but Kraken nudges him.

"My daughter's in there," he snarls. "Move."

We burst through the doors, probably looking like we're here to finish someone off rather than save them.

I bark out her full name at the desk nurse. "Where is she?"

The woman's eyes go wide, taking in our appearance. "Are you family?"

"I'm her father," Kraken says. "This is her... boyfriend."

Boyfriend.

First time he's acknowledged it without sneering.

"Third floor," the nurse says quickly. "Room 312."

We don't wait for the elevator, taking the stairs three at a time.

My heart's pounding harder than during the firefight.

This is a different kind of terror.

The kind where violence won't help, where all my skills mean nothing.

Where I can't protect her from her own body.

Room 312.

I stop at the door, suddenly afraid to enter.

Afraid of what I'll find.

But Kraken pushes past me, and I follow.

She's so pale against the white sheets.

IV in her arm, monitors beeping, and she looks small.

Fragile.

Nothing like the woman who stood up to Dylan in a grocery store.

I'm at her side instantly, taking her hand. "Goldilocks?"

Her eyes flutter open, focusing slowly. "Regnor? You're here."

"Of course I'm here." I brush her hair from her face. "How are you? The baby?"

"Still there," she whispers. "Still fighting."

The relief nearly drops me to my knees.

"What happened?"

"Subchorionic hemorrhage," Vail supplies from the corner. "Bleeding between the placenta and uterine wall. Scary as hell, but baby's okay for now."

For now.

The words hang heavy.

"Dad?" Everly notices Kraken hovering by the door. "You're here too?"

"Where else would I be?" he says gruffly. "You're my little girl."

Tears slide down her cheeks. "I'm sorry. About everything. About lying, about?—"

"Shh." He moves closer, takes her other hand. "None of that matters. You're what matters."

And standing there, covered in blood from killing the man who terrorized our family, watching Kraken accept what I am to his daughter, holding the hand of the woman carrying a baby that's mine in every way that counts...

I realize sometimes endings and beginnings happen at the same time.

The Patriot's dead.

The threat he posed for years is over.

But this—Everly, the baby, the family we're building—this is just beginning.

"I love you," I tell her, not caring that her father's watching. "Both of you."

"Love you too," she whispers. "Did you... is it done?"

I know she's asking about the Patriot.

About the mission.

About Dylan's world crumbling.

"Yeah," I say simply. "It's done."

She closes her eyes, tension leaving her body. "Good."

"The warehouse he was at is gone," Kraken adds. "Nothing will be left but the foundation by the time the fire is done. And the Patriot..." He glances at me. "Rio got justice. For Flora."

"Good," she repeats, stronger this time.

A knock at the door interrupts us.

Dr. Sims enters, chart in hand.

"How are we doing?" she asks Everly.

"Better now that they're here," Everly admits.

"Good. Support is important." The doctor's eyes flick over Kraken and me, taking in our appearance. "Rough night?"

"You could say that," I mutter.

"Well, I have good news and cautious news," she continues. "The good news is the bleeding has slowed significantly. Baby's heartbeat remains strong at 165 beats per minute, and there's no sign of placental abruption."

"And the cautious news?" Everly asks.

"These hemorrhages can be unpredictable. Sometimes they resolve quickly, sometimes they linger. You'll need to be on modified bed rest—no lifting anything over ten pounds, no stress, no strenuous activity of any kind."

"For how long?"

"At least until your next ultrasound in two weeks. Possibly longer depending on how things look." She makes notes on the chart. "I am still going to keep you overnight for observation, then you can go home tomorrow if the bleeding stays minimal."

"She'll follow every instruction," I promise. "Whatever she needs to do."

"I can see she's in good hands." Dr. Sims smiles. "I'll check on you again in a few hours. Try to rest."

After she leaves, we sit in silence for a moment.

The adrenaline from the night is crashing, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

"You both look like hell," Everly says softly.

"Been a long night," I admit.

"Tell me," she says. "I need to know it's really over."

So I do.

Tell her about the warehouse, the drugs, the distribution map targeting minorities.

About the Patriot's confession, his complete lack of remorse.

About what Rio did, and the flames that consumed it all.

Kraken adds in any details I missed, and together we paint the picture of the monster's end.

"Dylan's still out there," I finish. "But his protection's gone. His network's exposed. It's just a matter of time."

"He'll run," she says. "He's a coward at heart."

"Maybe. But we'll find him either way."

Her hand tightens on mine. "I brought him into our lives. All those people who died from his drugs?—"

"Stop," Kraken says firmly. "You were targeted. Used. None of this is on you."

"Your dad's right," I agree. "Dylan's choices were his own. You were just another victim."

"Some victim—" she says bitterly.

Kraken speaks up. "Stop, baby girl. You made it through this."

She starts crying, really crying, all the stress and fear pouring out.

I gather her carefully against me while Kraken rubs her back, both of us offering wordless comfort.

"I'm so scared," she admits between sobs. "What if I lose the baby? What if Dylan finds us? What if?—"

"Shh," I murmur into her hair. "One thing at a time. Baby's still fighting. Dylan's a dead man walking. And you've got us. You're not alone in this."

"We're family," Kraken adds. "And you know the club will handle Dylan. Don’t you worry about that for a second, sweetheart."

Eventually her tears slow, exhaustion taking over.

"Sleep," I tell her. "I'll be right here."

"Promise?"

"Always."

She drifts off, still holding both our hands.

Kraken and I sit in silence, watching her breathe, watching the monitors that track two heartbeats.

"Thank you," he says suddenly.

"For what?"

"For being there when she needed someone. For loving her enough to do the right thing and stand by her."

"Wasn't a hard choice to make," I say. "She's everything I never knew I wanted."

"Yeah, she has that effect." He's quiet for a moment. "My brother was a good man, had his demons, but was good. His wife was the same. I never thought I’d end up adopting my niece because of a murder-suicide, but that little curly-haired blonde girl saved my fucking life."

"You saved her."

"No, she saved us," he corrects. "Gave us purpose when we were drowning. And now..." He gestures at her stomach. "Next generation. Another chance to get it right."

"We'll keep them safe," I promise. "Both of them."

"I know you will." He stands, stretching. "I'm gonna call Magnolia. Let everyone know she's okay."

He steps out, leaving me alone with Everly.

I study her face, peaceful now in sleep.

Hard to believe that hours ago I was killing men in a warehouse, and now I'm holding vigil over the woman and child I love.

Life's funny that way.

The Patriot's dead, but the war's not over.

Dylan's still out there.

The baby's still in danger.

But sitting here in this sterile room, listening to the steady beep of monitors, feeling her pulse under my fingers...

I've never been more sure of anything in my life.

This is my family.

This is what I'll kill to protect.

This is what I'll die for to keep safe.

The Patriot learned that tonight.

Dylan will learn it soon.

Anyone who threatens them will learn that Regnor Walsh doesn't play when it comes to his own.

My phone buzzes—text from Runes:

All clear. Warehouse is ash. Tor's going through the intel. Rest of the brothers are heading home.

I send back:

Everly is stable. Baby's okay for now. Staying the night.

Runes’ reply comes a few moments later:

Good. Take care of your family, brother.

Family.

There's that word again.

I settle back in the uncomfortable chair, hand still linked with Everly's.

Outside, sirens wail in the distance—could be heading to the warehouse, could be normal city noise.

Doesn't matter.

Nothing matters but the two heartbeats on that monitor.