Page 67 of Tempest

“Impressive, Tempest,” he sneered, leveling the weapon at my chest. “But this ends now.”

I didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze with barely contained fury. He knew who I was. Sure, my name was on my cut, but I didn’t know if he’d read it while we fought, or if he’d looked into me beforehand.

We circled each other slowly, predators sizing up their prey. The sounds of battle faded to a dull roar in my ears. There was only us, locked in this deadly dance.

“Your little crusade ends here,” the leader taunted. “You have no idea what forces you’re messing with.”

I spat blood, never taking my eyes off him. “I know exactly what I’m dealing with. Scum like you, thinking you can come into our town and run things. You took my fucking wife! Your fucking men started this shit.”

His finger tightened on the trigger. “Unfortunate choice of target. I can admit as much. But you should have just let her go. Plenty of women out there. You’re in over your head. Last chance to walk away.”

A humorless laugh escaped me. “That’s not how the Dixie Reapers operate. We finish what we start.”

The tension crackled between us, a powder keg waiting for a spark.

The cartel leader’s eyes narrowed. He fired.

I twisted the moment I saw him squeeze the trigger, the bullet searing across my side. Pain exploded, but I channeled it into action. In one fluid motion, I closed the distance between us.

“Fuck!” I snarled, driving my fist into his solar plexus.

He doubled over, gasping. I wrenched the gun from his grasp, tossing it aside. My next blow caught him square in the jaw.

“That’s for thinking you could take our town,” I growled, following up with a vicious uppercut. “For taking my woman.”

The leader staggered, blood streaming from his split lip. He swung wildly, but his movements were sluggish. I easily dodged, retaliating with a swift kick to his knee.

As he crumpled, I seized the front of his shirt. “And this,” I hissed, “is for the Dixie Reapers. The men you’ve killed or injured.”

My final punch connected with a sickening crunch. The cartel leader slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Breathing heavily, I surveyed the chaos around me. Gunfire still echoed, but it was sporadic now. Through the haze of smoke, I saw my brothers advancing, cartel members retreating or surrendering.

“Status report,” I barked into my comm.

“We’ve got the upper hand, Tempest,” Wire’s voice crackled. “They’re falling back on all fronts.”

A grim smile tugged at my lips. “Good. Let’s finish this.”

I took a step toward my team, ready to regroup and push our advantage. That’s when the world exploded.

The blast hit like a freight train, hurling me off my feet. My back slammed into something hard, knocking the wind from my lungs. Debris rained down, pelting my skin with stinging shrapnel.

“Fuck!” I gasped, struggling to breathe through the thick cloud of dust.

My ears rang, muffling the chaos around me. Blinking furiously, I tried to clear my vision, but everything swam in a hazy blur. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.

“Tempest!” Someone was shouting, their voice distant and distorted. “Tempest, report!”

I attempted to respond but only managed a ragged cough. My body felt like one massive bruise, every movement sending jolts of pain through my nerves.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to move.Get up. Get the fuck up!

Slowly, agonizingly, I pushed myself to my knees. The world tilted dangerously, and I had to fight the urge to vomit. As the dust began to settle, I could make out shadowy figures moving through the wreckage.

“Wire,” I croaked into my comm. “What the hell was that?”

Static crackled, then Wire’s voice came through, tense and urgent. “IED, looks like. Bastards had a failsafe. Tempest, you need to move. Now!”

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