Page 9 of Revenge Saints

I signal to Max, and he smirks, already reading my move.

Aspen drops to her knees slowly, tucked into the shadows behind a tree.

I circle wide, silent, placing myself behind the tree near one of the men. Ryker crawls through the underbrush like a ghost, getting right up to the second one’s boots, and the idiot doesn’t even blink. That’s how good Recon is.

Max waits, hidden, watching. As soon as the third guy passes his tree,

We strike.

I grab the fucker by the neck; he thrashes, kicking, fighting like a fish on a hook. But he’s not strong enough, not fast enough, and definitely not smart enough. His oxygen runs out before his ideas do, and just as he starts to golimp,

Crack.

His neck snaps like dry wood in a fire.

I drop the body, my chest heaving. Around me, the others fall. Clean. Quick.

“You okay, pet?” I call out, my tone low.

Aspen peeks out from behind the tree, her hand wrapped tight around the knife I gave her.

“Yes. Better than them.” She points at the corpses; there’s a spark in her eyes. “You guys are… really good at this.”

She sounds surprised. Almost impressed.

I shrug and drag one of the bodies off the path, hiding it in the bushes. “It’s what we’ve done since we were eighteen.”

We strip them and take the rifle and knives. No radios. Useless dead weight now.

“I’ll take her,” Ryker says, walking toward Aspen. She raises her arms for him automatically, and he chuckles.

Her arms snap back down across her chest. “What?” she snaps, her brows drawn tight.

Ryker just laughs, a smug grin tugging at his mouth. She glares at him like she’s about to shank him with that knife.

“Don’t piss her off, Recon.” I shake my head, unable to stop the smirk tugging at my lips.

“Nothing, really.” He scoops her up, and she loops her arms around his neck. But then her eyes, those fierce, stormy eyes, drift to me.

I know that look. She’s chewing on something, some thought rattling around in that stubborn little head of hers. She wants to ask me something. Maybe she’s afraid of the answer. Or my reaction.

I sling the rifle back into position, eyes scanning the trees. We lost time. We need to get to the farm, fast. Aspen’s still bleeding, and adrenaline only lasts so long.

Then she cuts through the silence.

“Was there a reason you guys didn’t want Ethan going to the farm?”

I breathe out and glance at her. “We started moving stuff to the farm after that one trip… the time me, Max, and Ethan went to town.”

She nods slowly, eyes narrowing. “So, you thought Ethan might be up to something?”

“Not exactly,” I say, stepping closer to Ryker as we weave through the woods. “He was off that day. Off in a way that made my gut twist, you know? But I didn’t want to believe he’d betray us. I just… wanted a backup. In case we were ever followed to the base, or something happened. The farm’s big, deserted, and intact; it made sense.”

“We didn’t know what Ethan was planning, Aspen,” Max adds. “If we had known… we would’ve stopped him. We would’ve never let anything happen to you. Or Bryn.”

A tear slides down Ryker’s cheek. Aspen sees it, and without a word, she reaches up and brushes it away with trembling fingers. Her own eyes shine, swimming with unshed tears.

“I know,” she whispers, smiling through the pain.