Page 69 of Break Me

“You disobeyed a direct order.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t do this for the club. You did this for her.”

“Yes.”

The words land solid, unashamed.

The night hums around us. Insects chirping. The low murmur of Bishop and Diesel behind us.

For a long moment, Knox doesn't say anything. Then, quietly, “You saved her.”

I don’t say anything. Because this isn’t about tallying points on a ledger where one act wipes clean the rest.

He steps closer, lowering his voice. “You put yourself between Raven and them.”

“I’ll do it ever damn time,” I say.

There’s no forgiveness or absolution, but the shape of the fight between us changes. Fewer fists. More fault lines.

“We’re not done,” he says.

“I know.”

“And you’re still on probation.”

“I didn’t ask for anything different.”

He exhales hard, glancing toward the dark road like he can see the ripple effects stretching out ahead of us. “You don’t get to play hero and think it fixes everything.”

“I’m not playing,” I say. “I’m choosing.”

That finally does it.

Knox looks at me like a man who understands exactly what that costs, not just tonight, every night.

Then, he turns away, barking orders over his shoulder. “Diesel. Bishop. Get this cleaned up. I don’t want anything left that says they were ever here.”

“Yes, Prez,” Diesel answers immediately.

Knox faces me again, voice lower now. “I’ll make sure the bodies disappear. This will never come back to you or her.”

The words land heavier than any punch.

“Get out of here,” he says quietly. “Before I remember all the reasons I should still break your jaw.”

Whatever comes next between us can wait. Because I’ve crossed the line where distance pretends to be safety. Whatever comes next, votes, consequences, blood, forgiveness, it all comes after this.

I didn’t choose the club tonight.

I chose Raven.

And I’ll live or die by that choice.

Samuel

The road back is desolate. It’s that time right before morning when the night hasn’t quite let go. The sky begins to pale just as the trees thicken.