Six bodies, including Brandy. Which isn’t really important. It’s the people who aren’t here, that matter.
They were told to stay away.
None of this was about me, or my fine. It wasn’t even about Brick.
It was about loyalty. Principle.
It was a trap.
Silence settles over the compound.
Just wind. Dust devils spinning in the parking lot.
I spend the rest of the day feelin’ nothin’. Hollow, where emotions should be. Because there's work to do. Bodies to bury, blood to mop up, things to work out. Practical matters that add up to survival logistics.
And the whole time I feel it.
Something has changed.
Everything has changed.
Because nothin’ says you’re all in like a massacre.
CHAPTER 10
The golden hour washes over me as I ride. The wind is blowin' my hair, the sky all the colors of hell. Gorgeous bands of reds and purples softened up by deep peach and dark teal. A nightmare conjured up from the vacant mind of an insane artist.
Absolutely stunnin'. Unbelievably real. Indisputably foreboding.
There's no other way to interpret this sky.
Not after what happened this morning.
The body count felt like infinity, which was fitting. Because it seemed to take an eternity to bury them all. Even with the excavator, it was a chore.
The entire day felt like the definition of futility.
There's no fuckin' way we're gettin' away with this.
There's no fuckin' way this doesn't end in some televised shoot-out. The United States government vs. Badlands MC.
We're dead. We're all dead.
And I'm the one to blame for it.
Savannah is the only thing I care about right now. Who knows how long I have. Forty-eight hours? Seventy-two, if I'm lucky.
I've got things to say to that woman. Things that can't wait because this is it. The war is over. I've finally chosen my side. The archangel on my chest never had a chance. It's the screamin' demons that always had the upper hand. They always knew what truly lived inside me.
The Ashby Ranch rises up over the ridge like it always does. Perfect. Untouchable. Green grass that shouldn't exist in September, black fences that only people with money can really appreciate.
I slow the bike as I approach the gate. It's open.
Not quite dark yet, but almost. That in-between time when the world holds its breath.
She must hear me comin' because she's already on the porch when I round the last curve. Smilin'. White dress flowin' around her legs. Hair loose. Like a world that includes Demon Kane still exists.
Like I didn't just bury thirty-six bodies, includin’ Havoc. Twenty-five traitors. Five Feds, includin’ Brandy. And five women that were probably also Feds, but there was no way to sort that out, so… yeah. It is what it is.
