Page 57 of Fear

Jason laughed, but there was something hollow in it. Something breaking. “She’s stronger than I thought. You should’ve seen her fight…bit one of my guys. You’d have been proud.”

The air changed, everything in Goliath stilled. Then exploded. He was across the room in seconds.

Jason fired…once, twice. Goliath didn’t stop. The first bullet grazed his side, the second hit his shoulder, he didn’t feel either. All he saw was Sofia on that cot.

Her bruised face, her trembling voice, her pain.

Jason was every scream she never let out, every nightmare she wouldn’t speak of. He slammed into Jason like a freight train, tackling him to the concrete. The gun went flying, fists connected with flesh, over and over and over. Bone cracked, blood sprayed.

Jason screamed, Goliath didn’t stop, he didn’t see the hangar, didn’t hear the chaos outside. He only saw Sofia’s pain in this man’s face.

“You think you can take someone like her and keep breathing?” Goliath growled. “You think I wouldn’t come for you?”

Jason coughed blood, trying to speak, but Goliath’s hand closed around his throat, lifting him to his knees before slamming him down again.

“This is for her,” he said, voice guttural. “For every fucking bruise—” Smash.

“For every scream…” Crack.

“For every second I thought I lost her…” Bone shattered under his fist. Jason was a gasping wreck now, barely holding onto consciousness.

Goliath leaned in, his voice cold. “You should’ve never touched what wasn’t yours.” Then he gripped Jason’s head with both hands and snapped his neck with a brutal, final twist.

Silence.

Goliath knelt there for a moment, chest heaving, Jason’s body at his feet. Blood dripping from his hands. His heart still pounding like war drums, but it was done. The world slowed, the red haze cleared, and in that vacuum of silence, only one thought remained.

Sofia.

He rose, unsteady but certain. Jason was gone, but what mattered most…she was still breathing. Footsteps echoed in the hangar. Dirt boots. Heavy silence.

King, Dixon, and Frost stepped through the shattered doors, bloodied, bruised, and still breathing.

King’s eyes swept the scene…Jason’s body crumpled at Goliath’s feet, the mangled state of it saying more than any words could.

Frost gave a low whistle. “Guess he got what was coming.”

“No one’s shedding tears,” Dash muttered.

Goliath didn’t look at them. He stood slowly, fists bloodied, his shoulder slick with where the bullet had grazed him. His shirt clung to his ribs, soaked in sweat and streaked red from the second shot.

“You’re hit,” King said, stepping closer.

“I’ll live.”

“Maybe,” Frost added. “But not if we don’t patch your ass up.”

“We’ll burn the bodies,” Dixon said, eyes locked on Jason. “Burn this whole place to the ground. Make sure there is nothing left of him or his name.”

King gave a sharp nod. “No evidence, I don’t want no questions, no trace.”

They all turned to Goliath, but his focus had already shifted.

He was walking away, blood dripping from his knuckles. His wolf was quiet now. Sated. But his heart was already back at the clubhouse, back with his mate. Behind him, the others moved with silent purpose.

King pulled a flare from his pocket and cracked it, tossing it onto the oil-soaked floor of the main hangar. Within seconds, flames licked up the old timber beams, catching fast, hungry.

Dixon lit another corner. Frost disappeared into the side structure, setting fire to the old office Jason had used as a base. Hunter dumped gas onto the back wall, watching it light with a flash and roar.

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