The shot rings out, deafening in the small space.Morrison staggers, the gun falling from his hand as he looks down at the spreading red stain on his chest.
"You..."He coughs, blood bubbling at his lips."You killed me."
"No," Tempest says, lowering his weapon."You killed yourself the moment you touched her."
Morrison drops to his knees then falls forward.His breathing rattles, wet and labored.Dying, but not dead yet.
I kneel beside him, making sure he can see my face.Making sure these are the last words he hears.
"Evangeline is free of you.Those kids are safe.And you'll die knowing you failed at everything that mattered."
He tries to speak, but only blood comes out.Then his eyes glaze over, fixed and empty.
Dead.
I stand, looking at Tempest."You didn't have to do that."
"Yeah, I did.He was going to shoot you, and I wasn't going to let that happen."Tempest meets my eyes."This one's on me, brother.Not you."
"We're all responsible."
"Maybe, but I pulled the trigger."
Ghost appears in the doorway, taking in the scene."Clean?"
"Self-defense.He pulled first."
"The gun's still in his hand," Rogue says from behind us."Powder residue will prove he fired."
Did he fire?I don't remember hearing a second shot.But the brothers are already moving, already setting the scene, already making sure the story holds.
"Detective Isaacs gets a call in the morning," Ghost says."Anonymous tip about Morrison's location.When she arrives, she finds him dead, gun in hand, evidence of his crimes all over the cabin."
"And us?"
"We were never here."
It's clean.Professional.The kind of operation we've run dozens of times.But this time feels different.This time, a man is dead because of choices I made, paths I chose.
"Let's go," Ghost says."Nothing more we can do here."
We file out into the night, leaving Morrison's body in the cabin that will become his tomb.Behind us, I can hear Rogue and Savage finishing the cleanup.Setting the scene.Making sure the story is airtight.
The ride back to the clubhouse is silent.Each of us lost in our own thoughts about what we've done, what it means, whether it was right.
I don't have those answers.Maybe I never will.
But I know one thing with absolute certainty: Evangeline is safe.The kids are safe.And we can finally start building something that isn't overshadowed by Morrison's threat.
That has to be worth something.
* * *
The moment we enter the clubhouse, I head straight for the bathroom, needing to wash the night off before I can face Evangeline again.The water runs red at first, Morrison's blood and my own mixing in the drain.I scrub until my skin is raw, until I can't smell gunpowder and death anymore.
But I can still feel it.The weight of what we did.What I asked my brothers to do.
Clean clothes.Deep breaths.Then I go to her.
