Page 7 of Revenge Saints

But I’m not anyone. And I’m not letting her bleed out because her pride won’t sit the fuck down.

“Good girl.” The words come out rough as I scoop her into my arms, holding her close against me.

She winces, and I stop. “Didn’t you say it didn’t hurt?”

“You touched it,” she bites out, glaring at me like I’m the one who cut her.

I smirk, cocking a brow. “I didn’t even go near your thigh. That’s all you, pet.”

She grumbles something under her breath, probably calling me names, but her arms curl tighter around my neck.

We start moving. Eight hours ahead, maybe more. My grip tightens, her weight grounding me. This, keeping her safe, is the only thing keeping me from snapping and storming the fucking base.

“Where are we going? And… Dante?” She asks softly, but it slices through me like a blade to the ribs.

Fuck.

Dante.

Max answers before I can find my voice. “The old MacCallen farm. Secluded. It’ll buy us time.”

He and Ryker are on full alert, guns drawn, sweeping the woods like they’re waiting for the trees to attack. With Aspen in my arms, I’m useless in a fight unless it comes down to teeth and rage, and right now, I wouldn’t mind going feral if someone so much as breathes wrong near her.

“I know that name,” she murmurs, her fingers threading through my hair, the other hand pressed against my chest like she knows I’m about to snap. I tighten my hold on her instinctively.

“Oh!” she gasps, jolting a little, and we all freeze like goddamn statues. “It’s the farm you didn’t take Ethan! When Ryker and he fought!”

Fucking hell. I almost drop her. My heart lurches.

“She’s going to be the death of us,” I mutter under my breath, shaking my head.

“We didn’t fight,” Ryker replies flatly, barely glancing at her. “For that, he’d have to actually hit me.”

I chuckle. It’s more reaction than humor, more habit than anything else. Because inside? I’m unraveling. Ethan. That memory… It’s like glass in my throat.

And just like that, I realize how badly we didn’t see it coming.

Fuck.

Ryker had been the first to pick up that something was off—the tension, the hesitation—but we didn’t listen. I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because if I let myself believe Ethan could turn on us… I don’t think I would’ve survived it. Neither would Dante.

If Roman’s telling the truth, if he really killed him, then this betrayal cost us everything. And even after everything Ethan did… My chest still splinters like glass under steel at the thought of him being gone.

He was with us since the fucking plague.

He wasn’t a part of the BloodHawks, but he was ourbrother. One of us.

I remember those early days, how we sparred in the mornings and trained until we couldn’t lift our arms. I showed him how to fight, how to survive, and how to shut down the fear.

He was just a scared kid back then, clinging to some fading memory of family while stuck in a base in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by mercenaries. He knew the stories from our past.

Ethan… He made dumb jokes, always poking at shit he didn’t understand, messing with things just to show off. But he always had our backs.

Or so I thought.

Fuck.

You were one of us, man.