Page 37 of The Devil's Dream

“Your turn, brother.”

Without hesitation, I moved in, my knuckles were already split from earlier, but I barely felt a thing as I started throwing blow after blow. Each hit was made with purpose. For Nova, who’d been chased by Ivan and his men thanks to this prick. For the club, for every brother who'd suffered because of this corrupt piece of shit.

“Enough.” Banner's command cut through the haze I’d begun to slip into.

He approached slowly, the daggers in his hands glinting in the fluorescent lights. “You should have walked away,” he said, his voice conversational as he traced the blade down Tony’s chest, leaving a thin line of red.

“Fuck you,” Tony spat, blood staining his teeth.

Banner smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. “Wrong answer.” The next cut was deeper, drawing a hiss of pain. “You know, I’ve wondered for months what the fuck could be so special about that warehouse that you’d risk everything. And now look at you. You’re going to die, and for what? A worthless building that’s falling in around itself.”

The Fed's eyes darted between us, probably calculating his odds. There were none. He would die soon.

“You really want to die without confessing your sins?” Banner continued, making another precise cut. “That's not very Catholic of you.”

Something broke in Tony’s eyes. “The money,” he gasped. “It's under the concrete floors.”

Banner paused. “What money?”

“Federal Reserve... ten years ago.” Each word seemed to cost him. “My team... we hid it...”

The pieces clicked into place. The building wasn't just valuable real estate—it was a fucking treasure chest.

Banner nodded slowly. “See? Was that so hard?” His blade flashed once more, opening Tony’s throat in a clean arc.

“Fuck, Ban. Could have at least warned me you were going to do that,” Ghost snapped, his eyes narrow as he watched, seemingly mesmerized by the gaping opening in Tony’s neck that was spilling blood out onto the floor.

Banner shook his head at his brother.

I wasn’t really sure why he seemed so surprised. Ghost had been counting down the days until we finally found the prick.

Ignoring their back and forth, I turned back to Tony, watching as he bled out.

“Ghost,” Banner called out. “Get the cleanup crew in here. Haze.” He turned to me. “Walk with me.”

I followed him through the warehouse and out into the cold night air, my knuckles throbbing, and blood drying on my shirt. The anger I’d felt had subsided, and all that remained was exhaustion. I was fucking tired.

“You good?” Banner asked, lighting a cigarette.

I nodded, accepting one when he offered. “Nova...” I started, remembering her face when I shouted at her.

“Will understand,” Banner finished.

I took a long drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs.

Banner was right. Nova would understand. That was the kind of woman she was.

“Go get cleaned up,” Banner added, nodding toward my chest. I glanced down and sure enough, my shirt was covered in Tony’s blood. I’d lost my shit once I got my hands on him. “Go find your girl and apologize for being a prick.” He pinned me with a knowing look.

I grunted, taking another drag as the image of Nova's hurt expression flashed through my mind again.

I had to make things right.

After taking a quick shower at the clubhouse, I hopped on my bike and headed to the brownstone. Even before I opened the door, I could hear Nova's soft voice and Kane's deeper rumble. When I stepped through the door, they both looked up from their spot on the couch. Nova was curled into Kane’s side while he was stroking her hair. I stood there with my heart in my throat at the sight of Nova's red-rimmed eyes.

Fuck.

I’d done that.

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