Page 106 of The Ghost of Rage's War

“End it, son, you earned it,” Spike said. “Out ofeveryone here, you swallowed his shit for years.”

Volcano looked at Fury. “You’re nothing to me and my siblings. My sisters and brothers have beautiful lives. Mom does, too. You ain’t gonna be remembered by us. You’ve got no legacy.”

Volcano rammed a gun into Fury’s mouth and pulled the trigger.

That was the end. It had all come down to this.

“We’ll take him to your crematorium. Can’t have him found in this condition. There were some older guys amongst the Fangs. Identify one of them as Fury, so RCPD doesn’t waste firepower hunting him down,” Spike said.

“Let’s head to the hospital. I need to see if Grey and Calamity made it,” Drake replied, shoving away the thought of them dying.

He walked out into the daylight and blinked.

A smile crossed his face. It was over.

Spike

He heard the shot before he saw Drake start to topple. Spike whipped his gun out and fired at the Fang in front of them.

The Fang hit the ground hard with five bullets in him. Spike watched, horrified, as Drake slowly began to fall backwards as his blood spilled onto his top. It mixed with Grey and Calamity’s.

“No! Fuck no!” Washington yelled, racing forwardand catching Drake as he collapsed. “It’s a chest shot, get my car!” Washington threw the keys at Irish, and she ran off.

Moments later, she sped around the corner, and they shoved Drake in. Washington climbed in the rear as Spike leapt in the front.

“He’s breathing!” Washington exclaimed. “Go!”

Irish hit the pedal as everybody else raced for their vehicles. Irish didn’t stop, as Washington held Drake close to him.

His head dipped as the radio crackled, and Axel announced that Calamity and Grey had survived surgery but were critical. With a heavy heart, Spike informed everyone that Drake Michaelson was coming in hot with a gunshot to the chest.

Drake needed immediate surgery and was critical.

No matter how old he’d get, Spike would never forget the wounded howl of Axel that day. Never.

Epilogue.

Elizabeth

Patiently, I waited. This was a goodbye I’d feared and dreaded. This world had been a part of my life for years, and the end had arrived. Three lives hung in the balance, each special in their own way.

Drake, the man who’d started it all and wormed his way into everyone’s heart. Calamity, the prospect who’d been so amazing, nobody could know him and not love him. And Grey, the guy who came from the shadows to emulate everything Rage yearned to be. The one I waited for would arrive. This meeting had been ordained from the moment I first wrote his name down.

Events had unfolded differently than I planned. This ending hadn’t been predicted until Calamity came into his own, and Fate spoke to me. And I hated what Fate required.

Yet even I realised the scales had to be balanced. Blood needed cleansing from wounded souls, and the piper demanded payment one way or another.

So many years and journeys we’d travelled together. And at the end, we at last met in person.

Stoically, I wiped tears from my eyes because if I could save him from this, I would.

Three lives. And the decision had been made.

It hadn’t been my choice what happened. Their stories had played out in a way that I’d never foreseen, and now I waited quietly.

Finally, Drake emerged from the darkness surrounding me and gazed around. His eyes found me, and recognition flared. Drake smirked at the swing I was sitting on, hanging from a huge oak tree under a sunny light in a field of wildflowers.

“Sweetness and light? That ain’t you,” he murmured as he approached and stopped a short distance away.

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