Page 39 of Revenge Saints

She barely knows him. I need to do something.

Bryn’s either lost her goddamn mind, or she’s playing some next-level game of pretend. And the worst part?

I can’t tell the difference anymore.

But she’s right about one thing: if Aspen hasn’t shown up yet, Knox probably caught her in time.

He’d never let anything happen to her.

I scan the room for anything—a weapon, a tool, something. But when Knox locked Aspen in here, he stripped the place clean. Left nothing she could use to hurt herself… or us.

I drop onto the bed, the mattress stiff, the silence louder than it should be.

I stare at the ceiling.

And it’s not Bryn I see.

It’s them.

Max. Ryker. Knox. Aspen.

My family.

And I’m not naive enough to pretend Knox can just walk in here and get me out clean. There’ll be blood. Ours. And if any of them die trying to save me?

I’ll never forgive myself.

Roman, just the thought of his name makes my blood boil.

He’s the reason we became the BloodHawks.

Roman called Knox, asked him to make an international team,but we would only receive orders from him and go where he told us.

But we didn’t give a shit. We craved the adrenaline, the mission, the brotherhood. We thought we were doing something good.

What a fucking joke that turned out to be.

No contact with anyone else at the base. No middlemen. No backup. Just us and the mission.

They gave us a small wing inside the base.

In our downtime, Ryker found a place offsite. A real house. Normal shit. We’d drink, crash, and bring back hookups like we weren’t walking weapons waiting to be unleashed.

Then came the call.

Late at night. Roman summoned us to the headquarters.

Said we were flying to Romania. Some ex-CIA prick had stolen intel, classified files that, if leaked, could expose active agents, fellow soldiers. The kind of thing that would get people killed, a mission too risky to delegate, so it had to be us.

We were airborne in under an hour.

Same routine: tight silence, tense focus, Roman giving his orders like a goddamn ghost general. But this time… this time was different.

Roman came with us.

Said he missed the action. Missed the field. Wanted to feel the rush again.

Bullshit.