I grab my cut from the chair and shrug it on. The weight settles over my shoulders like it always does. Purpose. Brotherhood. War.
Carly watches me.
“You’re different,” she says softly.
“When?”
“When you get a call like this.”
“Yeah.”
She steps closer and straightens the edge of my collar without thinking.
“You’re going to bring her out,” she says.
It isn’t a question.
“Yes.”
I cup the back of her neck, pulling her in close. Press my forehead to hers.
“You ride with me,” I murmur. “When we arrive, you stay behind me. You don’t stray.”
“I won’t.”
I look down at her one more time.
Last night, I carried her out of the dark.
Tonight, she’s choosing to walk toward it.
And I’ll burn whatever stands in front of her.
Chapter 8
Doc
Theenginevibratesthroughmy thighs, steady and alive beneath me. Carly’s arms are wrapped tight around my waist.
The road stretches ahead in a long strip of cracked asphalt and fading paint. Wind cuts sharp against my face, colder now that the sun’s dropping lower. It slips under my cut, finds the sweat at the back of my neck, cools it fast.
Behind me, Carly presses closer.
I feel her cheek against my back.
Viper rides ahead, Road Captain instincts in every subtle shift of his body. He scans intersections before we hit them. Blade is two bikes back, tail steady, watchful. Saint rides loose but alert. Ghost keeps tight formation near me.
We roll off the main road and onto a narrower stretch lined with abandoned warehouses and faded signage. The place Ghostsent is up ahead. Single-story industrial unit. Rusted roll-up doors. One side entrance.
Two cars in the lot. A dark van parked farther back near the loading dock.
Lights on inside.
I slow.
Viper raises two fingers.
We fan out without breaking rhythm.
