“It feels like my fault.”
I rise on my toes and kiss him—soft, gentle, trying to pour all my reassurance into the contact. “The only people responsible are Caruso and his men. And they’re dead or in federal custody. It’s over.”
“I’m trying to give you space. But after everything?—”
“I know, and I appreciate it.” I smile at him. “But I really can shower alone. I promise not to drown.”
His mouth curves reluctantly. “I make no promises about not checking on you.”
“One check. After five minutes. Deal?”
“Two minutes.”
“Four.”
“Fine. Four.” He kisses me again, harder this time, then steps back. “Go. Before I change my mind.”
“Promises, promises.”
I’m laughing as I close the bathroom door behind me.
STONE
Church convenes a little before 9AM.
Every brother is present—a full table for the first time in weeks. The air is different today. Lighter. The shadow that’s been hanging over us since Summit first appeared in our lives has finally lifted.
We won. Against all odds, against a cartel with connections stretching across the Eastern Seaboard, against everything they threw at us—we won.
But that’s not why I called this meeting.
“Before we get to regular business,” I say, standing at the head of the table, “we’ve got an important issue to discuss.”
The brothers exchange glances. They know what’s coming.
“Steel.” He jerks upright from where he was leaning against the wall at the back of the room. As a prospect, he can be invited to observe, but only full members have earned the honor to sit at the table. I gesture at the empty chair at the far end. “Take a seat.”
He looks confused, but he sits. He’s young, but he’s proved he can handle himself, and do what needs to be done for the club.
It’s time.
“You all know what happened,” I say, keeping my voice steady despite the emotion threatening to crack it. “My woman was taken. Kidnapped by a cartel boss who intended to use her as leverage against this club. Against all of us.”
The room goes silent. Every man here knows the story, but hearing it laid out in Church gives it weight.
“We planned a rescue operation in coordination with the FBI. Tactical teams, coordinated assault, the works. But when we breached that building, Caruso had Josie at gunpoint. There was no clear shot for anyone.”
I look around the table, meeting each brother’s eyes in turn.
I turn back to Steel. “Except Steel took the shot.”
Hawk whistles low. He’s seen the aftermath. He knows what that shot required.
“Two hundred yards,” I continue. “Through a broken window. At a moving target partially obscured by a hostage. One chance.One bullet. And this prospect—” My chuckle, correcting myself. “Thisbrotherput that bullet exactly where it needed to go. He saved Josie’s life. Saved mine too, probably.”
Steel is sitting straighter now, his shoulders back, his jaw set. But I can see the hope in his eyes.
“There are a lot of things that make a man worthy of wearing our colors,” I say. “Loyalty. Courage. The willingness to do whatever it takes to protect this family. But more than any of that, what makes a brother is simple. When the moment comes, when everything’s on the line, you show up. You do what needs to be done.”
