Page 45 of Everest

The guy spilling his guts swallows hard, his eyes cutting to his friend's bloodied, broken body. "Not him. His son. He said the Kings killed his father, almost destroying the business his father had built for years. He's got men, weapons, and plenty of connections. He says this city is his now."

My stomach turns, rage burning on the inside. I glance back at Rollins. He's barely breathing and bleeding, but he's fucking smiling. "You're about to take your last breath." My hand tightens around the knife's handle. "Got anything to say?"

"He'll come for you. All of you," he spits.

"Let him." I drive the blade into his chest, right into his heart. I twist until the light in his eyes fades like a dying light bulb.

I look at Nova, who turns and raises his gun at our guest with loose lips.

"But…" his eyes widen with fear, "… you said you'd let me leave if I talked." His eyes fall on Riggs, pleading for his life. "Please."

"I said you could leave. I never said how," Riggs states and Nova puts a bullet between the fucker's eyes. He turns and looks at Riggs.

"What's our next move?" Nova asks.

Riggs glances at all of us, then at the door as if he can already see what's coming down the road. "We lock shit down. Club and family. Until further notice."

The silence that follows is deafening with unspoken truths.

These weren't just warning shots.

Velasco didn't merely ignite a fire.

He sparked a goddamn war.

If he wants New Orleans to bleed, he’d better be ready to drown in blood.

Because this time, we won't stop until the entire Velasco bloodline is buried deep beneath our feet.

12

LONDON

Before I even open my eyes, I know Kallum is gone because I don’t feel his heat on my back. When we’re in bed together, there is never a moment he’s not holding me.

Slowly, I open my eyes and look at the empty space beside me. I reach out and grab the pillow where his head was and hug it close to my body. Kallum’s scent still lingers on the soft fabric, and I can’t help but close my eyes and breathe it in.

The club is on lockdown, so we spent the night at the clubhouse. That also means my avoiding my best friend and the girls is ending. There’s no avoiding it. Kallum has made the changes between him and me clear, and he did so in front of everyone when we walked into the clubhouse hand-in-hand. Then he went and made our situation even clearer by kissing me. I’m sure by now the girls know a little about what has transpired in the past twenty-four hours, but they will want to hear the details from my mouth.

Rolling over in bed, I stare up at the ceiling and wonder how Promise will react when I tell her the truth. She’ll be pissed, no doubt. Pissed because we don’t keep secrets. I can handle her being mad, though. Her disappointment in me is something Iwon’t be able to take. Either way, it’s time to face the music and let the cards fall where they may.

When I walk downstairs, it's still early. The sun isn’t up, and since Promise and I won’t be going into the office today, she’ll take advantage and sleep as long as Jaxson lets her. On the other hand, I have too much on my mind to sleep.

The common room is empty, so I head to the kitchen for a much-needed coffee. When I walk in, Catcher is there, back resting against the counter, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Hey, Catcher.”

“Mornin’," he grunts.

Obviously not a morning person.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Kallum is, would you?” I ask.

Catcher downs the last of his coffee and then sets the mug in the sink. "The guys had some shit to look into, said they’d be back by lunch.”

By ‘shit to do’ he means club business. Club business means none of mine. I don’t take offense to Catcher’s lack of information. I’ve been around long enough to know the rules of the club. I also know ‘said business’ is likely to do with my failed kidnapping. “Gotcha.” I nod, making my way over to the coffee pot.

“You doin’ all right this mornin’?” Catcher asks, catching me off guard. Catcher has been around the club for a while, and though I don’t know him well, I do know the man is not one for small talk.

I shrug. “I’m okay. I’ve never been stun-gunned and kidnapped before. "Ten out of ten, I don’t recommend.” I try to make light of the situation, but the way Catcher clenches his jaw says he doesn’t find my comment amusing.

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