Gavin’s jaw flexed, fury battling the raw desperation and fear in his eyes. For several tense seconds, he didn't move, the weight of his choices hanging heavy in the room. Finally, he broke, shoulders slumping, defeated.
“Fine. Fucking fine,” he muttered resentfully, grabbing the pen Ash offered and signing the document with a quick, furious scrawl.
King nodded, his gaze hard as he looked at Kevlar and Stryker. “Take him to the safehouse in Smyrna.”
Kevlar hauled Gavin out of the chair with a firm grip, shoving him toward the door without another word. Ink followed close behind, ensuring Gavin wouldn’t make a run for it. Gavin didn’t resist, too defeated and beaten down to even attempt defiance.
As they exited, Ink glanced over at me, eyes hard with understanding. “Think this shit is over?”
I shook my head slowly, my voice flat and resolute. “Division Nine isn’t gonna roll over this easy. They’ll come back for more.”
I stood motionless for a moment, the silence settling around me, heavy and oppressive. Slowly, I turned and met King’s gaze, his expression unreadable but understanding everything without me having to say a single word. “Appreciate you backing me on this.”
King scowled—which was practically a warm and cuddly expression compared to the one he’d been wearing in front of Gavin. “We protect our own, Cross. You fucking know that. Isa and Hannah are family now—yours and ours.”
I lifted my chin slightly, acknowledging his words, then turned and walked out of the office, determination burning in my chest.
Division Nine wouldn’t back down easily, but neither would we. No matter what shit Gavin had gotten us into, it ended now.
And no one—fucking no one—was going to harm my girls.
19
CROSS
The morning air had felt off from the moment I opened my eyes. A quiet tension crawled beneath my skin, keeping my nerves wired and ready for whatever was coming. I’d learned a long time ago not to ignore instincts like that, and when the call came, it was exactly what I’d expected—shit was hitting the fan.
Wizard’s voice was grim, tight with controlled anger when he gave me the update. “Division Nine’s been quiet since the beating you gave their guys. Too damn quiet. And now we know why.” The pause that followed told me the next part was going to piss me off royally. “They hit Inferno. Torched that custom build you’ve been working on—the expensive one. Blaze just called it in. Damage was contained but clearly intentional. It was a message, brother. Loud and fucking clear.”
My jaw tightened to the point of pain, my blood simmering hot beneath my skin as fury clawed at the edges of my control. They’d touched something of mine that was tied to my livelihood and my club. A ruthless certainty settled inside me. Enough was fucking enough.
By the time I arrived at the garage, smoke still hung in the air, acrid and heavy, the scent of burning metal and melted paintbiting at my throat. Blaze stood outside with a grim expression, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he surveyed the damage. He didn’t say a word, just gave me a curt nod, his eyes reflecting the fury pulsing through my veins.
Stepping into the garage, I saw the remnants of the masterpiece I’d poured weeks into, now charred and twisted, a complete loss. Rage tightened my chest, but I kept it under control. Losing my shit wouldn’t fix anything. These assholes were trying to send a message, making it clear they could reach what was mine. It was a mistake they’d fucking regret.
A moment later, King strode in, the lethal energy radiating from him like a physical force. He stopped beside me, his gaze sweeping over the damage, eyes narrowed as he assessed the scene. “They’re getting bold. This ends now.”
It took a few days to get everything set up and locked down tight. Wizard tracked Division Nine’s current operation point, confirming their movements, routes, and patterns. The clubhouse was a hive of activity as teams were organized and plans put into place. There was no hesitation or second-guessing—just cold, calculated precision.
Finally, we moved.
It was night when we arrived at the Division Nine warehouse, tucked away in an industrial corner of town. Shadows stretched long under the dim moonlight, giving us ample cover as we approached silently. Our entry was swift and quiet.
Perimeter guards went down first, efficiently neutralized without alerting those inside. I stepped over one lifeless body, gaze scanning ahead, my heart steady and breathing controlled.
Inside the warehouse, our teams moved like well-oiled machines. Kevlar, Blaze, Echo, and the others took point, systematically clearing room after room, taking down anyone who stood in the way. Each step brought me closer to my goal, my blood pumping with grim determination.
I knew exactly who I’d find here—Vice. Isa’s uncle, the man who’d threatened what was mine. My target.
He wasn’t hard to find. Vice stood in a back room, smug, confident, still believing he held the upper hand. He turned when I stepped into the room, an arrogant smirk forming when he realized I was by myself.
“Well, look who it is,” he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “Griffin fucking Reid. You’re either brave or stupid coming here alone.”
I let his insult roll off me, meeting his gaze without blinking. The coldness in my eyes seemed to give him pause. “You were warned, Vice. This is what happens when you fuck with what’s mine.”
His smirk vanished, replaced by a brief flicker of uncertainty, but it was too late. Before he could react, my weapon was drawn, aimed, and the shot echoed like thunder in the confined space. He fell, his eyes wide with shock, his body crumpling heavily to the ground. I got justice, swift and absolute.
My brothers stepped from the shadows, their faces grim but resolved, silently acknowledging the act that had been necessary. The remaining Division Nine men were dealt with swiftly and brutally, leaving only one man alive to carry the message back to their leadership. It was a clear signal—the Hounds were not to be fucked with. Anyone who threatened ours would pay with blood.
