Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
He swallowed hard. “I—”
“Don’t.” I cut him off with a snarl. “You don’t get excuses. You don’t get speeches. You had every chance to walk a cleaner road, and you pissed on all of them. You chose this end the day you crossed us.”
His face sagged, hopeless. “Then… at least let me—”
Burn was already on his feet, gun in hand.
Stanley froze, his words choking out. “Wait—”
Burn tilted his head, grinning like a wolf. “Here’s the thing, Stanley. You don’t get to pick your ending. We do. I offered you the choice to do it yourself or me to do it, but you don’t get to pick another method.”
For a moment, the only sound in that house was the tick of the wall clock and the faint whistle of Stanley’s breath. He shook his head, tears streaking his face.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “She loved him. She loved him and hated me. He didn’t care. I’m sorry. I was hurt.”
I stared straight into his eyes. “Not sorry enough.”
Burn raised the pistol, steady as steel. “Time’s up, Mayor.”
The shot cracked like thunder in the living room.
Stanley’s head snapped back, blood spraying the expensive wallpaper behind him. He crumpled sideways in the chair, lifeless before his body hit the floor.
Silence followed, heavy and absolute.
Burn lowered the pistol, exhaled like he’d just finished a job and nothing more. “There it is,” he muttered. “Debt settled.”
I stood, the smell of gunpowder mixing with the copper tang of blood. I looked down at Hampton Stanley, the man who thought he owned us all, now lying in a pool of his own failure.
“Pop’s avenged,” I said, voice flat. “GJ’s free. This chapter’s closed.”
Burn holstered his gun, smirking again. “On to the next one, brother.”
Tower stepped back inside, gave the scene a single glance, then nodded. “Street’s clear. Nobody heard a damn thing.”
Disciple crossed himself out of habit, murmured low, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. May his name rot with the worms.”
We filed out, boots heavy, leather creaking. No one looked back.
The house stayed behind us, silent except for the tick of that damn clock. Hampton Stanley had thought himself untouchable. Tonight, he found out there’s always someone who can reach you.
And when it’s the Saint’s Outlaws, there’s no mercy.
Chapter 20
Gonzo
The clubhouse was loud. Too damn loud.
Music pounded through the walls, laughter bouncing off the rafters. Women draped themselves across laps, bottles cracked open like the world wasn’t burning outside. Normally, I’d take comfort in it. Noise meant life. Brotherhood meant survival.
Tonight, it all felt hollow.
I sat at the end of the bar, nursing the same bottle I’d cracked an hour ago. Sober by choice. My mind had enough poison without adding whiskey.
Every time I blinked, I saw her. IvaLeigh.
The way she’d looked at me that night on the porch, fire in her eyes even when the ground had been ripped out from under her. The way her voice had steadied when she told me she wanted truth, even if it made her hate me for a minute.
I’d given her space. She deserved that much. But the silence gnawed at me, chewed me down to bone. She hadn’t called. As much as I wished she would, there wasn’t a single text or communication from her.
A hand slid over my thigh.
Shay.
Her hair spilled down her back, lips painted, eyes heavy with invitation. She leaned in close, her perfume too much, her voice a purr. “C’mon, Gonzo. Been a long time since you let yourself have fun.”
Once upon a time, I’d have let it happen. Shay was easy. No strings, no expectations, no promises. Just a body against mine, heat in the dark.
But when her hand slid higher, I grabbed her wrist and set it back on the bar.
“Not tonight.”
Her brows shot up. “You serious?”
“Dead serious.”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Guess the rumors are true. Little college girl ruined you.”
I didn’t bite. Didn’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I just pushed the bottle away and stood.
That’s when GJ caught me.
He was leaning against the pool table, cue in one hand, beer in the other. He’d been watching. Kid always had eyes sharp as knives. He set the beer down and walked over.
“What’s up, old man?” he asked, smirk tugging at his mouth.
I gave him a look. “You know damn well.”
“Yeah,” he said easily, like the whole world hadn’t chewed him up and spit him out already. “She matters.”
I swallowed. “More than I planned.”
He grinned, teeth flashing in the dim light. “Ain’t life funny like that? All the women in this world, and the one who gets under your skin is the one you can’t have easy.”
I huffed out something between a laugh and a groan. “Smartass.”
“Runs in the family,” he said, bumping my shoulder. Then, quieter: “Don’t run from it, Dad. Not this time.”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
He let it go, wandered back to his game, leaving me standing there with the weight of his words pressing heavier than the leather on my back.