CHAPTER 1
Everything slows down.
The way it always does when death enters the conversation.
The gun in my hand feels unusually light. Like three pounds of cold certainty against my palm belongs there. Has more right to be there than a spoon or a pen ever did.
The barrel points at Colt's forehead, dead center. I could put a hole right between his eyes from twice this distance.
My finger rests alongside the trigger guard—not on the trigger. Not yet.
But that's discipline, not mercy.
Behind me, I hear the clubhouse door creak open. Boots on gravel.
In front of me, Colt's eyes widen just enough to show he understands exactly how close he is to the end of his story.
My arm doesn't shake. Prison built these muscles layer by layer, cell by cell. Three years of push-ups and pull-ups until my body became a weapon that didn't need to be smuggled in.
Destiny clutches her baby tighter, the yellow blanket bright against the gathering dusk. "Legion, don't?—"
"Shut up," I say, voice flat. Not angry. Just empty.
My focus narrows to Colt's face, but my mind splits open, falling backward through time.
Once upon a time, Destiny was my world. When she was small. Hours old. Days old. Weeks old. Hell, my fascination with Destiny Kane lasted several years. I was fifteen when she was born.
Before Destiny, it was just me and mama. When Deacon, Destiny and Mercy's father, started hanging around, I thought things would never be good again. Not that they were much better before, but a single boy to take care of is one thing. A boy and two girls paints a very different picture of what it means to survive.
But it wasn’t all bad. Deacon didn't hang around much after Destiny was born. He worked, spent most of his money on gambling, came home at night to fuck my mama, sleep, and eat our food. But he helped, I guess.
Destiny was the most beautiful child ever. She's got a more exotic look to her compared to me. Dark hair, almost midnight black, where mine has always been blond. But we both have mama's blue eyes.
There were days back when she was small where I would just look at her. Get lost in that beauty. In my limited world of scrubland and lonely prairies, Destiny was a bluebell surrounded by dust.
Then Mercy came and it all fell apart.
One kid a single mother can handle. Even one like me.
Two… it's iffy.
Three breaks everythin’.
Deacon’s angry indifference, combined with the demands of hungry children—well, it was too much for her.
Did my mama kill herself? Did her car slip off that icy freeway overpass on purpose, or by accident?
Won’t ever know.
But did she choose to take enough oxy to kill a horse that same night, leave her newborn baby home alone, and then go out drivin’ in a blizzard?
That’s a resoundin’ yes, folks.
I won’t let Destiny’s life end up being so worthless.
I can’t do it. I won’t be able to live with myself if her end is nothin’ but a repeat of the woman who brought her into this world.
The wind picks up, blowing grit across the parking lot. It stings my eyes, but I don't blink. The late afternoon sun sits heavy and gold on the horizon, casting long shadows across Colt's face. Sweat beads along my hairline, trickling down my temple.
