Page 42 of Damascus & The Wildfire
“He’s a rat,” Thane muttered, slamming his fist on the bar. “I knew something was off about him. He wasn’t the same kid I knew after he got back from college.”
Merrick just shook his head. “We don’t know that yet. Linc will find out.”
As if on cue, Linc walked in. He slid a file across the bar to Thane. “She’s FBI. Safe Streets and Gang Unit. Tyler’s meeting with a fucking fed.”
“Shit,” Merrick muttered. “We need to find out what he knows. What he’s told her. Because of his dad, I’m sure we’ve all shared more than we would with any other prospect.”
“I’ll text him,” Reaper said. “I can ask him to swing by and grab something from Thane after his ‘dentist appointment.’”
“He won’t need to worry about the dentist when I’m done with him,” Merrick growled.
The bait was set. We waited, the air thick with anticipation. Then we heard two vehicles pull up—a bike and a car. My stomachtightened. Who else would drop by the clubhouse this early in the morning? We pulled our weapons, ready to snatch Tyler.
The door swung open, and in walked Kenna with Tyler trailing behind her. The tension ratcheted up another notch. Tyler took one look at us—guns drawn, faces grim—and knew he was made. Before anyone could move, he grabbed Kenna by the throat, squeezing hard enough that her lips parted as she gasped for air. He reached behind and pulled a gun from his waistband, pressing it to her head as she clawed at his wrist. She looked between us with a panicked expression, silently begging to be saved.
“Let me leave or I fucking kill her.” His wild eyes darted between the weapons trained on his frantic movements as he used Kenna as a human shield.
Kenna’s eyes met mine, wide with fear but still sharp. I wanted to shoot the bastard, but one wrong move and she was dead. His fingers dug into her throat, rough enough that they’d leave a hand mark for weeks.
Merrick’s icy voice cut through the room. “You hurt her, you die. And it won’t be quick.”
Tyler laughed, but it was hollow. “Pretty sure I’m dead either way. You think I don’t know you’re going to kill me?”
Reaper stepped forward, hands up, voice steady. “You don’t want to do this. You’re not that guy. Your father wouldn’t want this. You remember what he stood for—no hurting women, no hurting kids. He helped build this club on honor. Don’t throw that away. Don’t betray his legacy more than you already have.”
Tyler’s eyes flickered at the mention of his dad, his grip loosening just a fraction. Kenna coughed, sucking in a breath of air like she’d been held underwater. For a second, I saw the doubt and the guilt as he remembered the man who’d raised him.
That was all Kenna needed. She twisted suddenly, driving her elbow into Tyler’s ribs in a move Fuse would have been proud of. She stomped hard on his foot, and he grunted, grip slipping, and Kenna tore herself free. She bolted straight for me, eyes wide with terror andadrenaline. I holstered my weapon, trusting the others to keep theirs trained on Tyler, and pulled her into my arms. I held her tight as she sobbed against my chest.
“You did so good,” I murmured. “You’re safe now. You were so brave. I’ve got you.”
She clung to me, her entire body shaking, her breath racking through her in ragged gasps.
Tyler, realizing he was out of options, turned to run.
Merrick didn’t hesitate. He fired a single shot.
Kenna screamed into my shoulder as the gunshot echoed through the space. Tyler went down with a cry, blood pouring between his fingers as he clutched his leg.
The clubhouse erupted into chaos—shouting, cursing, Reaper barking orders. But all I could focus on was Kenna, trembling in my arms.
Merrick strode toward Tyler, his face a mask of fury. He hauled him up by the collar, his fist slamming into Tyler’s jaw with a sickening crack. Tyler’s head snapped back, blood spraying from his mouth. Merrick hit him again, and again, each blow landing with brutal precision.
Kenna let out a squeak. I tightened my hold on her and yelled. “Merrick! Enough! Kenna’s seen enough!”
Merrick barely glanced at me, checking his red-hot rage just enough to clock the fear on her face. His face twisted in a pained expression before he ripped Tyler up from the ground by his neck and dragged him toward the door.
“Reaper, call Eva,” Merrick commanded. “Get her here now to take Kenna home, then meet me at the junkyard.”
The door slammed shut behind them. The clubhouse suddenly seemed too quiet, except for Kenna’s shaky breaths and the distant roar of a truck peeling from the parking lot.
Kenna trembled against me as we listened to Reaper make the call, giving Eva little detail.
“Eva’s fifteen minutes out. Stay with Kenna until she’s here,” Reaper ordered as he followed Merrick.
I nodded once and guided Kenna to one of the corner sofas. I sat, pulling her into my lap and holding her tight. She trembled with the aftershocks of the adrenaline rush. I stroked her hair, murmuring soft reassurances. Her breath shuddered against my chest, but when she finally pulled back, her eyes blazed—not just with dissipating fear, but also fury.
“What are they going to do to Tyler?”
