My phone vibrates against my thigh, the sensation jolting through me like an electric shock.I pull it out, my thumb leaving a smear of sweat across the screen as I swipe to unlock it.Xavier’s name appears, and for one heartbeat, relief floods my system that he’s okay, that he’s able to text.
Then I read the message.
Something’s happening downtown.Gunshots near the hospital.We’re on lockdown.
Ten simple words that turn my blood to ice.The phone nearly slips from my suddenly numb fingers as the implications crash through me.The hospital.Xavier’s hospital.The place where he saves lives, where he should be safe.
“Greyson,” I say, my voice coming out with a deadly calm that doesn’t match the hurricane raging inside me.I hold up the phone, screen facing him, watching his eyes scan the message.“The hospital’s on lockdown.They’re targeting medical facilities.”
Greyson’s face transforms, the controlled anger hardening into something terrible, something I recognize, because I feel it building in my own chest.His jaw locks, a muscle jumping beneath the skin.
“Mount up.Now.”
The command ripples through our ranks, brothers moving.No questions, no hesitation.Just the synchronized movement of men who understand exactly what’s at stake.
I swing my leg over my bike, the leather of my seat creaking beneath me.The key slides into the ignition, metal cool against my fingertips despite the heat of the day.My father appears at my side, his own bike rumbling to life, our eyes meeting in silent understanding.This isn’t just club business anymore.This is personal.
The engines around me roar to life, a thunderous chorus of controlled power.The vibration travels up through the handlebars, through my arms, settling in my chest alongside the cold rage building there.I position myself at the front beside Greyson, where I belong as enforcer, as the club’s right hand.
As we pull onto the highway, formation tight and purposeful, a single thought drives me forward with laser focus: if they’ve hurt Xavier, if they’ve so much as frightened him, there won’t be a place on Earth where they can hide from me.
The wind whips past, tugging at my clothes, the familiar sensation grounding me in the moment.I lean into the curve of the road, my bike responding like an extension of my body.
Two miles to town.Two miles to Xavier.
I check my mirrors, seeing the line of bikes stretching behind me, a snake of chrome and leather, my family, my brothers, all moving with the same deadly purpose.The Reapers wanted to make a statement?They’re about to learn exactly what happens when you threaten what belongs to the Devil Souls.
My father pulls alongside me at a stoplight, his expression grim behind his sunglasses.He taps two fingers against his chest, our old signal from when I was a kid.Be smart.Think before you act.I nod once, acknowledging the warning even as adrenaline courses through my veins, urging me forward faster.
The first sirens wail in the distance as we approach Main Street.Blue and red lights flash at the intersection ahead, a barricade of police cruisers blocking the road.Civilians huddle on sidewalks, faces pale with shock and fear.The familiar rhythm of my town has been disrupted, replaced with the jagged pulse of chaos.
Greyson signals, and we pull over a block from the barricade.No sense in antagonizing the cops, not when we share the same immediate goal of stopping the Reapers.
“Demon,” Greyson calls, voice carrying over the rumble of idling engines.“What’ve we got?”
Demon slides off his bike, phone already in hand, fingers flying across the screen.“Police scanner says at least six Reapers opened fire near the courthouse, then split into two groups.One headed toward the hospital, other toward the high school.”
The high school.Where Samantha teaches.Where Xavier’s sister works.
My hand tightens on the handlebar, knuckles white beneath my leather gloves.These bastards know exactly what they’re doing, targeting the places that would hurt our community the most.Schools.Hospitals.The beating heart of any town.
“They’re trying to stretch us thin,” my father observes, voice tight with controlled anger.“Make us choose.”
Greyson nods, already making calculations behind those blue eyes.“We split up.Half to the hospital, half to the school.”He points to various brothers, dividing our forces with the efficiency of a general.“Slaughter, you’re with me.Hospital.”
Relief floods through me, though I keep my expression neutral.He knows.Without me saying a word, Greyson knows exactly where I need to be.
I check my weapon one last time, the familiar weight of it against my palm steadying me.The metal is cool, the grip textured beneath my fingers.I slide it back into its holster, secure against my ribs beneath my cut.
“Remember,” Greyson says, voice pitched for all to hear, “civilians are everywhere.No wild shooting.We take these fuckers down clean and controlled.”
Nods all around.We may be an MC, we may operate outside the law in many ways, but we protect our town.We don’t endanger innocents.
As we prepare to move out, my phone vibrates again.I check it immediately, heart in my throat.
Still locked down.Patients are safe.I’m okay.Be careful.
Xavier.Still alive, still thinking of others’ safety even in crisis.Something fierce and protective surges through me, mingling with the cold rage already there.The combination is dangerous and makes me capable of things I try to keep leashed.
