I should have felt relief. Instead, I felt dread. "More people will die."
"Yes." No softening, no comfort. Just truth. "But if we don't act, more people will die anyway. At least this way, we choose the battlefield."
I thought about Jake, pale and bleeding on that floor. About the three names I'd already forgotten. About Chen's cold smile and Viper's army and everything that had brought us here.
"Okay," I said.
"Okay?"
"I'm with you. Whatever comes next." I squeezed his hand. "I'm not running."
He lifted our joined hands, pressed a kiss to my knuckles.
"I know," he said. "That's why I love you."
We sat there as the sun climbed higher, watching the damaged clubhouse come back to life around us. Members patching holes, boarding windows, preparing for whatever came next.
This was just the first wave. We both knew that. But we'd survived. And as long as we were breathing, we had a chance.
14
FRACTURES
Two days after the siege, the clubhouse still smelled like smoke. They'd boarded the windows, patched the walls, scrubbed the blood from the floors. But the scent lingered—acrid and accusing, a reminder of everything we'd lost. Every time I breathed in, I tasted that night.
Jake was recovering. Slowly, painfully, but recovering. I'd removed the bullet myself the morning after the attack, working by flashlight in our makeshift infirmary while Maria held him down and Tank stood guard at the door. Not my cleanest work, but he'd live. The scar would be impressive. "Battle wound," he'd said weakly when he woke up. "Chicks dig scars, right?"
"Sure, Jake." I hadn't had the heart to remind him he'd been questioning his interest in chicks just days before. Now I stood in the war room, watching men I'd come to love plan violence I couldn't stop.
"Viper's compound is here." Tyler tapped the map spread across the table—satellite imagery, hand-drawn notations, red circles marking entry points. "Warehouse district, east side. He's been consolidating forces since the attack. Probably expecting retaliation."
"How many men?" Hawk's voice was gravel and exhaustion.
"Thirty, maybe forty. Plus whatever reinforcements Chen can provide."
"FBI at a biker compound?" Irish shook his head. "That's bold, even for her."
"She's desperate. Tyler's evidence threatens everything she's built." Axel stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, jaw tight. He hadn't slept in two days—I could see it in the shadows under his eyes, the tension coiled in every muscle. "Desperate people make mistakes."
"Or they burn everything down and run." Tank's rumble cut through the room. "We need to hit them before she has that chance."
"Agreed." Hawk straightened. "Tomorrow night. Full assault. Every able body we have."
My stomach dropped. "What's the objective?" Blade asked.
"Viper. We cut off the head, the body dies." Hawk's dark eyes swept the room. "Chen's a secondary target. If we can grab her, we do. If not, Tyler's evidence goes public and she's finished anyway."
"And the compound itself?"
"Burned." No hesitation in Hawk’s voice. "Whatever Viper's running out of there—drugs, guns, girls, boys—it ends tomorrow."
Girls. Boys.The words hit me like a punch. I thought about Chen's corruption, about the trafficking Tyler had mentioned, about foster kids who reminded him of us.
"What about casualties?" The question left my mouth before I could stop it. "Theirs, I mean. Not everyone in that compound is a volunteer."
Silence. The officers exchanged glances.
"Kai—" Axel started.
