Page 37 of Rebel

I stepped into the compound’s open yard, the night air hitting my skin like a cold slap after the stuffy back room.Men were already moving with purpose, leather cuts and heavy boots, weapons prepped and ready.It was a beautiful, terrifying sight.

Rio stayed close to my right side, her steps matching mine.Her face had settled into something hard and focused -- the face of a soldier, not a victim.Good.We’d need that.

Across the yard, Azrael was already directing traffic, his features intense.He moved with the deadly grace of a man comfortable with violence, comfortable with death.They called him the angel of death for a reason.

“Gear up, we move in five!”I barked, watching small groups split off to secure the compound’s exits.The pounding of heavy boots on concrete echoed off the surrounding buildings.I saw a few of our brothers gathering near the gate, not to leave with us, but to remain behind and protect the women and kids.Down the road a ways, I saw Jordan step out onto their porch, holding a shotgun.

“Perimeter team,” Stripes called, his thick accent carrying across the yard.“You take the east approach first.No direct engagement unless you’re compromised.”

The designated men nodded, checking their weapons one last time before mounting their bikes.Engines roared to life, a familiar rumble that settled something in my chest.This was what we did -- we rode, we fought, we protected our own.

I led Rio toward a black SUV parked near the garage.“This is our transport.Tinted windows, reinforced panels.After the club’s last fiasco, Charming had it ready for situations like this.”

She ran her hand along the hood, assessing.“Bulletproof?”

“The doors and windows are.Not the whole thing.”

“Better than nothing.”She glanced back at the clubhouse.“You really think they’ll come here?They aren’t just faking us out to see what we do?Seems stupid to attack a compound full of armed bikers.”

“Men like that -- men who drug and rape women -- they don’t think like normal people,” I said, checking the vehicle’s supplies.Extra ammo, water, first aid kit.“They think they’re untouchable.The Moretti connection makes them dangerous, but it also makes them cocky.”

Rio studied my face.“You’ve dealt with men like this before.”

It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway.“Yes.”

“Is that why you’re so determined to be the one to extract me?Some personal vendetta?”

I closed the SUV’s trunk with more force than necessary.“My reasons are my business.”

“Not if they affect the plan,” she countered.“Not if they put others at risk.”

She had a point.I leaned against the vehicle, keeping my voice low.“A friend was attacked years ago, back when I was too young to know what the fuck to do.Men with connections, men who thought their money and their names would protect them.The cops did nothing.The courts did nothing.”

“But you did something,” she guessed.

I met her eyes.“Two months after the attack, one of them disappeared while boating.The other had a fatal accident with his motorcycle on a mountain road.Very tragic.I was twenty-two at the time.Before I came to the Devil’s Boneyard.”

Rio held my gaze, something shifting in her expression.Not judgment -- understanding.

“So this isn’t just about protecting club interests.”

“It’s about justice,” I said simply.“Sometimes the system works.Sometimes we need to be the system.”

Before she could respond, Charming approached.

“Shade’s got movement on the cameras,” he said without preamble.“They’ve split up.Two vehicles heading for the front, one circling around back.”

“They’re trying to box us in,” I muttered.“Expecting us to hunker down here.”

“Which is why your girl’s plan is already working.”Charming nodded.“Azrael’s team is in position for the diversion.Renegade’s setting up the roadblock now.”

I scanned the compound.The club had transformed from a group of hard-drinking bikers to a mercenary unit in minutes.This was why the Devil’s Boneyard survived when other clubs folded.Discipline when it mattered.

Across the yard, Jackal was coaching a pair of younger members, showing them how to position themselves behind the concrete barriers at the entrance.His hands moved in sharp, precise gestures, demonstrating sight lines and cover positions.The men listened intently, nodding at his instructions.

“Remember,” Azrael’s voice carried to us through the comms.“Wait for my signal.Not before.We need them fully committed to the approach.”

I checked my watch.“How long until they hit the perimeter?”

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