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"And destroy her career in the process," I add. Something heavy settles in my ribs. "No badge. No law enforcement. Ever."

Diesel studies me. "That was her choice."

"A choice I'm not going to let her make." The words come out harder than intended.

"Why?"

"Because this badge is everything to her. Has been since her sister died." I run my thumb along the edge of her badge. "And I'm not going to be the one who takes that away."

Diesel leans back, studying me. "Even though she's handing you Royce? The thing you've been working toward for two years?"

"Even though."

Diesel's mouth quirks up. "Guess she's not the only one willing to sacrifice everything."

My phone buzzes. Hammer's number.

"Yeah?"

"Vargan called me." Hammer's voice is sharp. "Says Nova left what you need to end this tied up in a pretty little package for you." A pause. "What's our move?"

I walk to the window, staring out at the empty parking lot where Nova's cruiser should be. Where it won't ever be again.

"She knew what she was doing," I tell him. "Left me evidence that would destroy Royce tomorrow. But using it destroys her, too."

"Ah." Papers rustle on his end. "And you can't do that."

"She'd lose everything. Badge, career, any future in law enforcement."

"I figured as much." Hammer's quiet for a moment. "You know I've got to ask—what about the families? The town? We've put two years and significant resources into Shadow Ridge. It's become one of our most valuable territories."

My grip tightens on the phone. The weight of what he's saying settles in my chest. "I know."

"This is bigger than just you now, brother. The club's invested. Other charters are watching how we handle this. If we let corruption win because you can't sacrifice one woman..."

"She's not just one woman." The words come out rough.

"No," Hammer agrees quietly. "She's not. But you've got to weigh what matters more—her career, or justice for everyone Royce has destroyed. Including her."

I stare out at the empty lot. At the scar reflected in the glass.

"There has to be another way."

"Maybe. But are you willing to bet everything on maybe?"

The line goes quiet again. Waiting.

"I'm the one who wanted this," I continue. "It's my blood the town should be freed by. Not hers."

"How?"

I turn back to the war room, to years of work spread across tables and pinned to walls. Evidence gathered and connections mapped. Everything I've built to take down the bastards who've been bleeding this town dry.

"I'm not using the recording," I tell him. "At all."

"You've built this case from nothing."

"And I'm handing it over without destroying Nova." I close the laptop containing every legal brief, every strategy memo, every piece of research I've compiled. "The moment that recording surfaces in any court, she becomes the corrupt sheriff who took bribes."

"You're talking about walking away from guaranteed victory," Hammer says quietly. "The victory she gave you and wanted you to use."

"I'm talking about making sure Nova still has a future when this is over."

Hammer's quiet for a moment. "So what's your play?"

"Give everything I've built to clean lawyers.

Human lawyers with no connection to Nova, no connection to me or the club.

They use the bank records, property transfers, witness testimony.

My contacts, my sources." I push the laptop away.

"Takes longer without the recording, but it sticks just the same. "

My fingers tighten around the phone. Legal warfare has been my weapon since the camps. The thing that kept me alive when fists weren't enough. Now I'm handing it all over to strangers.

"Royce won't see it coming," I add. "He thinks he's got us trapped—use the recording and destroy Nova, or don't use it and have no case. He never planned for a third option."

I'm not walking away from a fight. Sacrificing my biggest advantage.

And maybe that's what this is really about. For weeks, I've been trying to control every piece of this. Demanding she let me protect her, getting pissed when she made her own choices.

This is how it has to be. I keep the case alive, keep her safe, and lose every damn thing that matters to me in the process.

Hammer's quiet for a long moment. Then: "You think she's coming back?"

Something cold spreads through my ribs. "She's done with this place. Done with me. But at least she'll still have a badge when this is over."

"What do you need from me?"

"Someone with federal connections. A lawyer whose reputation is spotless."

"I might know someone. Former Atlanta DA's office. Clean record, iron spine. One of the few humans who helped those few years after the camps closed."

My shoulders drop an inch. "Perfect. They take point, build the case independently. Separate from anything Nova or I touched."

"I'll cover your ass on this," Hammer says after a moment, "but I need you to tell me why she's so important. This isn't just about Shadow Ridge anymore, is it?"

My throat tightens. On that laptop sits a recording of Nova negotiating for justice she's been denied for years. A sister buried while her killer walked free. A wound that's never healed.

"She deserves to have the system work in her favor for once," I say, the words scraping out. "She's spent her whole damn life fighting other people's battles. It's time someone fought for her."

Hammer goes quiet for a moment. When he speaks again, there's something different in his voice. "You sure about this? Once we start down this path, there's no going back. No case for you, no Nova."

I stare at Nova's badge on the table. The beast in me wants to hunt her down, drag her back, make her stay. But that's exactly the kind of monster she was running from.

"I'm sure."

"Why?"

I don't hesitate. Don't calculate legal angles or weigh strategic advantages. Just answer.

"Because keeping her alive matters more than keeping her."

"She's in Atlanta right now. Probably sitting somewhere, hating herself for what she thinks she had to do." My throat closes. "Maybe she'll figure out what I gave up. Maybe she won't. Doesn't change anything."

"And if she doesn't come back?"

"Then at least she'll still have options."

The line goes quiet for a long moment. Then Hammer's voice, rougher than usual: "Send me what you have. I'll have someone in Atlanta within six hours."

After I hang up, I sit alone in the war room surrounded by years of work I'm about to hand over to strangers. My hand hovers over the thumb drive—Nova's voice captured in digital hell, the evidence she thought would save everyone but herself.

I pocket it, then wipe the file from the laptop. One last act of protection.

I could be in Atlanta by midnight. Could hunt her down, demand answers. My beast claws for that confrontation, that closure.

Instead, I reach for the nearest file box and start organizing evidence for Hammer's lawyer.

Can't chase someone who doesn't want to be found. Can't undo a sacrifice that's already made.

Her badge sits in the evidence box Santos brought. Not mine to keep. Belongs to the woman who torched her life to save a town that never trusted her.

But I hold onto the thumb drive. That part of her story isn't finished yet.

I'll make sure the families get their justice. And then I'll do what she couldn't—I'll find Derek Sullivan.

She gave up everything for people she barely knew. Least I can do is finish what she started. For the sister who never got justice. For the woman who walked away from everything that mattered to her.

Not because I'm some fucking hero. Because she ripped my guts out showing me what real strength looks like.

Stepping back. Letting go. All the shit I never learned how to do.

Two years I thought I was the only one who could save this place. Three weeks with her and I find out there's more than one way to win a fight.

Now I get to finish what she started. Clean up the mess we both made. Make sure the woman who destroyed herself for people she barely knew gets something out of it.

Doesn't matter that it's killing me. Doesn't matter that I'll never see her face again. Doesn't matter that every breath feels like swallowing glass.

She walked away from everything that mattered to her.

The least I can do is let her sacrifice mean something.