Page 14 of Savage Possession (Savage Reign #3)

Venom And Reaper walk up behind me, weapons drawn.

Reaper taps me on the shoulder and all three of us move with precision through the shack and the surrounding forest, clearing the location.

It takes less than ten minutes to secure the place to make sure it’s safe before Isa leaves the truck.

Not that I wanted her to come, but there was no holding her back.

She’s a brave woman and if she needs to be at the head of the charge, then I'll be the shield at her back.

Reaper looks at her with respect and Venom, well, he gave her coffee. That’s like welcoming her into the family by his standards.

When she joins us, the first place she walks to are the metal barrels stacked up on the outside.

Mud and mosquitos are enough to make me want to get back in the truck, but she doesn’t look phased as she marches through it all with a look of determination written all over her expression.

I didn’t think I could love her more than I already do, but my heart grows with the fluffy stuff until my chest hurts.

“Look.” She points to a mix of numbers and letters painted on the side of each barrel.

“It matches these.” She shows it to me and Reaper when we come to stand at her side.

“And this.” She points to initials painted on top of the lid of each barrel and then to a far right column on the paper.

“These two things together mean something, but I don’t know what. ”

“It means you are messing with business that you don’t need to meddle in.”

All three of us whirl at the sound of a man’s gruff voice. We level our weapons on an older man who steps out from behind an old cypress draped with trailing Spanish moss, his weathered face half-hidden in shadow as though he, too, were part of the ancient tree’s secrets. Or about to die for them.

“Malcom Fontaine, I presume.” I don't give any thought to the double-barreled shotgun he has pointed at my chest. As long as it stays there and not on Isa. Instinct has me wanting to step in front of her, but that could make the wild-eyed man trigger happy.

“Father? What are you doing?”

“I told your mother when you were born you were meant for great things, child. I plan on making that prediction come true. You are coming back with me.”

Isa steps into me and places her hand on my lower back. “No. I’m not coming with you. What you need to do is stop whatever this is.”

“Drugs, sweet angel. Your father is getting into the drug running business.”

“What?” I don’t have to look at Isa to hear the disbelief in her voice.

“It’s all money. It doesn’t matter how it’s made as long as progress is being made.”

Fontaine steps over various thick roots and comes to stand on the dirt road that led us this deep into the bayou.

“Not another step closer or you’re going to find out if you can shoot faster than me.”

Fontaine’s dark eyes seem to gleam the idea of ending me. “It’s not that I wanted you to get saddled with a worthless piece of crap like Grudge, but it’s for the money and that fixes everything. You’ll see.”

The older man is so consumed by his greed and illusion of obtaining massive power, he’s not hearing himself speak.

“I’m not going with you, father. I am not going to be a pawn in your game.”

“Listen to your daughter, Fontaine.” Reaper steps forward, drawing Fontaine’s attention, his voice low and steady as it slices through the humid air.

“Using this place as a checkpoint, or any other like it, won’t last. You know we’ll find every last one of them, and we will shut you down.

” Reaper’s gaze never wavers from Fontaine as he rattles off the list of ingredients stamped on the barrels, each word a calculated knife cutting through Fontaine’s pride.

“We know what you are doing. It ends now.” Then Reaper asks the question that’s been festering in my gut since we got here. “Where are your labs, Fontaine? Give us what we need to stop Euphoria from killing more people, and we don’t end you right here. Simple choice—one or the other.”

That’s when Isa steps out from behind me, her petite body nearly lost against the towering cypress and the shroud of silver moss.

My heart damn near stops. One twitch of Fontaine’s finger and she could be gone.

I want to pull her back, to shield her behind me, but I know—fuck, I know—I have to let her do this.

Her eyes glisten like shards of blue glass under the thin shafts of early morning sunlight breaking through the canopy.

Her voice trembles but carries enough conviction to make a monster pause.

“Father, whatever you are after, it’s not worth it.

Think back to Mom. The good times we shared.

All the family holidays. The happiness we had as a family.

Don’t tarnish her memory with whatever Grudge is pushing you to do.

How long before you serve your purpose and they kill you? ”

Fontaine’s jaw twitches, the shotgun shaking faintly in his hands. “They need me. And as long as I breathe, I’ll do everything in my power to poison humanity just like it poisoned me. So they are not using me, I’m using them.”

Tears spill down Isa’s cheeks, streaking through her freckles, and it takes monumental control over every violent instinct inside me not to end the man who dares make her cry.

“Isa,” I whisper, pleading, praying she can hear what I really mean.

She turns her head just enough for me to catch the steel in her trembling chin. “It’s okay, Ash. My father isn’t going to kill me.”

The old man lifts the gun, but I see his finger doesn’t move to the trigger. He keeps it resting on the guard like some invisible thread tethering him to this side of the veil.

“Dad, look at me.” The plea in Isa’s voice cracks me in half. I want to storm forward, rip the weapon from his hands, but I choke down the urge. This is her moment.

“Put the gun down and talk to me. What you’re doing won’t bring Mom back. She’s gone. But you still have me. Don’t throw me away. You have two choices. Live or die. Reaper, Venom, Ash—they’ll end you without hesitation. Or… you can help us.”

As she speaks, Isa walks closer, each step threading fire across my skin. My heart thunders so hard it feels like the fucking thing might blast out of my chest. Beside me, Venom and Reaper hold steady, iron in their hands, discipline coiled tight, but I see their respect for her bravery.

My woman is so damn brave.

“Give me the gun, Dad. Please.” Her small hand, delicate but unflinching, closes over the barrel of the shotgun. She lowers it inch by inch, her voice breaking on the last words. “Please, Dad.”

And then it happens. Something inside Fontaine crumbles. His knees buckle, his shoulders shake, and the shotgun thuds uselessly to the dirt. Tears run down his face as he collapses against Isa, clutching at her like the broken man he is.

“Thank fuck,” Venom mutters, shoving one gun back into his holster, though the other stays trained. He’s too jaded to trust any man fully, and God bless him for it.

“No kidding,” I breathe, scrubbing a hand down my jaw. “Last thing I wanted was to kill her old man right in front of her.”

Reaper meets that with a single sharp nod. I guess we both didn’t want that to happen, but we all understand how close it came.

When Isa finally untangles from Fontaine’s arms, she walks to me, eyes watery but bright as the summer sky. Tears wet the front of her shirt and mud streaks across the top of her boots. She’s so small compared to me—but fuck, she’s made of steel stronger than any brother I’ve ever ridden with.

“He says he’ll talk,” she says, voice steadier now, “but he needs protection. If you can offer that, he says he has the information you want.” She looks at each of us, holding our gazes. “Will you do that for him? For me.”

“Deal.” Reaper lays a gentle hand on her shoulder, and Isa looks at him like he’s the brother she never had. The warmth of it does something to my chest I can’t describe. She’s found a family here. My family.

For the next half hour, Fontaine spills it all.

The operation. The “black curtains” shacks hidden across the bayou where product moves unseen.

The chemists are people Grudge and the Russian have kidnapped and enslaved to cook Euphoria.

The kitchens are constantly on the move, tucked inside cargo trailers owned by Fontaine that move on endless train routes.

Piece by piece, the puzzle comes together.

And with every word, I know we’re getting closer to cutting the head off the snake once and for all.

By late afternoon, we’re heading back to the Savage compound.

The swamp air hangs thick, saturated with the smell of brine and rot.

In the truck bed, Isa leans into me, her snow-white hair brushing my jaw, her freckles glowing faint beneath the fading sunlight.

Venom drives, silent and sharp-eyed, while Reaper takes her father into Ares’ protection.

We called in Storm with another truck and they took off in the direction of a private airport hanger we own in the city.

Isa breaks the quiet. “Where’s Reaper taking my father?”

I press a kiss to the crown of her head. “Ares offered to watch him. He’ll be safe. He can feed intel about his brother to Ares from the inside.”

She hesitates, her voice a fragile thread. “Will he really be safe?”

Bless her soft heart. I’m quickly learning her empathy for others is what makes her unique and another reason to love all of her. “As long as your father doesn’t try to kill anyone, Ares won’t end him. That’s the deal.”

“Sounds fair.”

I pull her tighter into my chest, my hand spanning most of her small back. She fits into me like she was always meant to. “Isa… you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met. I love you.”

Her head lifts just enough for me to catch those blue eyes shining up at me, tears softening their glow. “And I love you. I never thought I’d find family, Ash. But I did. With you.”

I hold her the entire way home, the sound of cicadas and the low hum of the truck rolling steady beneath us, a promise in the dark bayou that for once—maybe—we’ve earned a bit of peace inside each other’s love.

After Venom drops us back at the cabin, we sit on the front porch just letting the evening settle our nerves. The bayou swallows up the taillights as Venom's truck disappears down the dirt track.

Isa curls close to my side on the porch swing. Her snow-white hair tangles in the evening breeze, her hand small and warm in mine. The shouts of bullfrogs and the murmur of the wind through cypress needles fill the darkness.

For the first time in years, a fragile peace settles in my bones.

But peace is a liar’s promise in our world.

That’s for damn sure. Darkness always circles back, and revenge is a beast that never sleeps.

Grudge and demon crew still breathe, and the Savages just got the keys to tear his house down for good.

Isa leans her temple to my shoulder, and I know for a fact that whatever vengeance tomorrow brings, family is worth fighting for and what matters most. And tonight, with her heartbeat thumping soft against my ribs, I let myself enjoy the peace while it lasts.