Page 114 of Jolt's Vengeance

I glance at Widow, noting the hard set of his jaw and the steel in his eyes.

As a father, I know he's seeing this through a different lens—imagining if it had been his own daughter, Zoe, in Aggie's place.

His hand rests on the butt of his gun, a clear indication of where he stands on the matter.

Turning back to Aggie, I watch as she processes Widow's words.

Her fingers twist in the hem of her shirt, a nervous habit I've come to recognize.

I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms, to shield her from this brutal reality, but I know she needs to make this decision on her own.

My mind races, torn between my duty as a member of the Reapers Rejects MC and my growing feelings for Aggie.

The clubhouse, our home, seems a world away from this grim chamber.

I think of the life I want to build with her, wondering how this moment will shape our future.

"Ghost," I say softly, using the nickname that's become so natural. "Whatever you decide, I'm here. You don't have to carry this alone."

Aggie takes a deep breath, her emerald eyes flickering with a mix of emotions. "Aye, Widow's right. He does deserve it."

I nod, relieved and proud of her strength. "I made sure you didn't have to watch the torture, Ghost. If you don't want to see this, you don't have to."

She turns away, her blonde hair swinging with the motion. "I don’t want to see it."

I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands clench at her sides.

My heart aches for her, knowing the weight of this decision.

I pull out my gun, the metal cool and familiar in my hand.

Trevor's unconscious form is still before me, covered in barbed wire and blood.

For a moment, I see red, remembering what this piece of shit did to Aggie.

My finger itches on the trigger.

"This is for my girl," I think, aiming at Trevor's head.

The sound of the gunshot echoes through the room, loud and final.

Aggie flinches at the noise but doesn't turn around.

I holster my weapon and move toward her, my steps quiet on the blood-stained floor.

Coming up behind her, I resist the urge to wrap my arms around her waist.

Instead, I lean in close, my lips near her ear.

"Trevor won't ever bother you again, or any other woman," I murmur, my voice low and intense.

She turns to face me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Thank you, Jolt," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "For protecting me, for being willing to do these sorts of things."

I shrug, trying to lighten the mood. "It's my job, darlin'." But even as I say it, I know it's more than that. I'd move heaven and earth for this woman, club be damned.

Widow's gruff voice cuts through the heavy silence. "We gotta head back to the club, prospect. We'll get this cleaned up later."

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