Page 56 of Ghost's Obsession

He nods once. “Yeah. Just thinking what this place would’ve been to me a few years ago.”

“Execution grounds?” I say, quietly. I’ve heard that at one time he used to kill so his club brothers didn’t have to carry that mental burden.

His mouth tightens. “Maybe. Or a remote place to dispose of bodies—not that our club has ever had many to worry about.”

I give him a sharp nod, understanding what he’s trying to communicate. People can change. And he’s not that man anymore. Siege made sure of that.

I check the porch and see no visible movement. The door’s closed and the blinds are pulled. There’s a faint glow behind the blinds. It could be a battery lantern. Then again, it might be a trap.

My thumb brushes the safety on my pistol. The cabin waits ahead, tucked like a secret in the dark. And if Carnage is in there, he’s about to find out what happens when you target the wrong woman—or haunt the wrong club.

Siege holds up three fingers. I brace my boot just under the knob and wait for the drop. He flicks his fingers to two and then to one.

I kick hard, and the old wooden door flies inward, hinges screeching as it slams against the wall. The air inside hits me first—the scent is stale smoke, sweat, and the metallic bite of gun oil. I raise my gun and search for a target before I step inside the rough cabin.

To the left, there’s a cramped kitchenette. I clear it visually in a single sweep. The only thing moving are roaches. They’re crawling over half-eaten fast food. There’s a busted coffee pot and not much else.

Siege barrels through behind me, rifle aimed towards the narrow hallway that splits off the main room. Rigs and Tex follow close behind. The three of us move together like we’ve rehearsed this a hundred times.

From the bedroom on the left, there’s sudden movement—a rustle. We converge on the location and hear a crash, the sound of something heavy being grabbed. Then Tex’s voice cuts through the air like a blade.

“He’s going for a weapon!”

The first guy barely has the barrel of a shotgun in his hands when Tex drops him with two quick shots to the chest. He flies backward and crumples into a heap on the floor.

I don’t have time to think before a second figure bursts out from the hallway. He’s a wiry man I don’t recognize—shirtless, barefoot, wielding a crowbar. He lunges towards Rigs, but I cut him off mid-stride by slamming my shoulder into his ribs and driving my knee into his gut. The air leaves his lungs in a wheeze as he topples backward and hits the floor hard. He’s dazed but not out.

Rigs moves fast, rolling him onto his stomach and yanking a zip tie tight around his wrists with practiced precision.

Siege is already checking the back. “Anything else?” he calls out.

Tex pokes his head out from the bathroom, weapon still raised. “It’s all clear.”

I keep my gun up but lower it slightly as I scan the cabin. There are two sleeping bags, one still warm. Paper plates with grease stains litter a folding table. In the corner, a cracked burner phone lies face-up, glowing faintly with a still-open message thread.

I lean down, squinting at the screen. The last message sent reads:

Status?

The reply came just twenty minutes ago:

Nothing yet. Expecting contact soon.

I gesture towards the phone. “Looks like we showed up just in time.”

Siege grabs the restrained man by the collar and yanks him up into a seated position. He’s got a cut across one eyebrow and blood trailing from his nose, but his mouth is curled into something between a grin and a sneer.

“You’re late,” he mutters, voice hoarse and mocking.

Siege cocks his head, not rising to it yet. “Were you waiting for us?”

The guy shrugs and snorts, wincing as blood spatters his jeans. “He told us you’d come. Said the Legion can’t resist a trail this obvious.”

Rigs takes a step closer, his rifle slung over one shoulder. “So, this was bait.” It’s a statement, not a question.

The man shrugs again, like he doesn’t care that they just lost a battle to us. “You could call it that.”

Tex walks past and boots the dead guy’s shotgun further across the floor, just to be sure it’s out of reach. He glances back at the prisoner. “So, you’ve got one friend dead, another who packed up and ran, and you’re sitting here playing decoy?”

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