Page 21 of Total Carnage
Later, as the moon hung high like an unblinking eye, I brought them together—my chosen few—in a warehouse abandoned by all but ghosts and shadows. Canon, Moab, and now Shivs. Each man a pillar of strength, each shadow blending into the next until we were indistinguishable from the darkness we embraced. Brock sat nearby, beer in one hand, phone in the other. I assumed he was reporting back to Jameson.
"Brothers," I began, my voice slicing through the thick anticipation. We're at the crossroads of what was and what will be. Our pasts, written in blood and betrayal, lead us here—together."
"Speak your mind, Vin," Canon said, his voice steady as a sniper's hand. He reminded me a lot of myself, that live hard die free attitude.
"Lexington's underbelly doesn't know it yet, but change is howling at its doors. We're not just starting a chapter; we're rewriting the damned book," I declared, the fire of my resolve casting flickering shadows on the walls. Stansfield wouldn’t be surprised when I showed up, but he would be surprised at the arsenal I was bringing.
"Damn straight," Moab grunted, his massive arms crossed over his chest like iron bars.
"Ride hard, hit fast, and stay ghost—that's the creed. We'll carve respect from their fear and build something that can't be broken or bought," I continued, my gaze locking with each of theirs in turn.
"Like a phantom army," Shivs murmured, his mind already plotting courses through the treacherous terrain ahead.
"Exactly. We hit where it hurts, vanish before they can lick their wounds," I agreed, my lips twisting into a semblance of a smile.
"Here's to being feared," Canon raised an invisible toast, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. The man had murder and revenge in his eyes. He tugged on his dark ponytail and shrugged, sitting back in a chair struggling to hold his mass.
"Feared and free," I echoed, the words an oath sealed in the silent understanding between men who had nothing left to lose. I felt the looming confrontation with Stansfield etching itself into my bones. It was more than a promise now; it was a path laid out before me, one I'd follow to the bitter end. Justice and redemption were calling, and I was damn well going to answer.
The night air held a chill, but inside the derelict warehouse we'd claimed as our war room, tension hung like a thick fog. I leaned against an old workbench scattered with maps and notes that had been ominously left by an RBMC confidant, arms folded across my chest, eyes fixed on the men before me—my brothers-in-arms, each one a crucial piece of the machine I was building.
"Stansfield," I said, the name tasting like poison on my tongue. "He's the bastard that put me in the dirt, thought he buried me. But you can't kill what's already dead inside. His fortress, that damn horse farm out by the Interstate, it's where he hides his sins behind a mask of respectability."
Canon, still as a coiled spring, nodded. "Intel is key. We need to know his routines, his security detail, how tight that noose is around his neck."
"Agreed," I grunted. "We need a few eyes watching, noting comings and goings. But it's gonna take more than just knowing his breakfast menu to bring this high-and-mighty fucker down."
"Precision," Canon added, his sniper instincts kicking in. "We hit him surgically. No collateral damage to give the law a reason to come sniffing around."
"Damn straight," I approved, meeting his steady gaze.
Moab stepped forward, the concrete floor practically shaking under his bulk. "When it comes to throwin' punches, count me in first. Loyalty means we stand together, but it also means we don't hesitate to strike when the iron's hot."
"Your fists will have their time, brother," I assured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "But this is chess, not boxing. We'll hit him where it counts, make sure he feels it."
"Routes in and out, alternative paths, choke points—we've got to map them all," Shivs interjected, his eyes flickering over the sprawled charts. "If this goes tits up, we can't be caught with our pants down."
"Planning's your game, Shivs," I said with a nod. "Make sure our exits are as clean as our entries."
"Done," he replied, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. He looked at the others. “Each of us needs to bring on three Prospects. We need to grow the club fast. Get our spotters on the place.”
"Remember, gentlemen," I continued, sweeping my gaze over them, feeling the kinship tighten like a fist. "This ain't just about revenge; it's about setting a new order. Stansfield thinks we're nothing but dirt under his polished shoes. We're gonna show him how deadly that dirt can be."
"Here, here," they murmured, unity weaving through the words.
"Time for honor among thieves, boys," I declared, the fire of vengeance heating my blood. "For us, for those who can't fight, and for the sweet, bloody justice that's been denied too damn long."
"To retribution," Canon whispered a dark promise in his eyes.
"Retribution," Moab rumbled in agreement.
"Retribution," Shivs echoed, resolve hardening his features.
We had laid the groundwork, sworn an unspoken oath. In the shadows of the warehouse, amidst the blueprints of our enemy's demise, we found the beginning of something more than a club—an uprising. The night was ours, and so was the path ahead. It was woven with danger, threaded with darkness, but it would lead us to the dawn of reckoning.
I’m coming for you, Raven. Your knight on his shiny Harley. You and me babe. But then it hit me harder than the bullet I had taken to the chest two days previous. She had to know I was dead or had died that night. I’m sure she looked for me. I’m sure she stood at my grave. What the fuck would she think when I walked into the room and threw my arms around her? She’d be scared as fuck. Na. Our love was undeniable. In her eyes, I saw a future filled with love, promises, endless possibilities, and no regret. We were nothing without the other.
I spread the blueprints across the scarred surface of the table, my fingers tracing the lines that marked Stansfield's compound like a vulture circling its prey. The warehouse around us hummed with the promise of dark deeds as Canon, Moab, and Shivs leaned in, their eyes sharp and hungry. Brock watched intently, though he’d be heading back to St. Louis in the morning.
