Page 72 of Ghost's Obsession

“The fuckin’ Legion is not getting her back,” he growls, his voice vibrating with anger. “I’m tired of them taking every fuckin’ thing I value.”

Grime gives him a feral grin. “One road in and one road out. We’ve got the high ground.”

He barks out orders, frantic. “Slaughter, take the center of the room. There’s a trap door near the conveyor belt. Use it for cover.”

Carnage points at me like a curse. “If I fall, kill her.”

Grime nods, but his eyes never leave mine.

And the look says there is no chance of him following Carnage’s order—because if his leader falls, he’s claiming me for himself.

The room erupts into motion when the Legion bursts in. I cover my ears with my hands but can still hear the dull thud of boots and the slamming of doors. Lifting my hands slightly, I listen carefully, to every footstep and every barked command, straining to hear Ghost’s voice.

I see more movement from the back of the room, silhouettes entering the production floor. Before, they were shooting from the shadows, but now they’re showing themselves. Ghost is one of the first faces I recognize. I’d know that frame anywhere. He has broad shoulders and walks with a sure footing. His rifle is tucked tight to his shoulder as he scans his surroundings.

I don’t try to move because I’m still zip-tied to the radiator. Instead, I scream out a warning to the Legion, “They’re on the production floor! Watch the catwalk! Carnage has the high ground!”

Carnage whirls around to stare at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You little bitch! I’ll make sure you regret betraying me!”

As the fight rages on, my eyes roam around the room and I realize something—Carnage and the men who came to help him are scared. Then I see why. The Savage Legion has come with their own reinforcements, and their cuts say Sons of Rage MC. Brittany’s family. Together, they’re ferocious.

Suddenly, the Grave Diggers’ president—the man they call Marauder—motions his men to fall back towards the front of the room where the exit is located.

Grime is waiting patiently, but for what, I don’t know.

Carnage is unraveling, screaming commands that no one is paying attention to. Which means all I have to do is survive the next few minutes. Carnage climbs above me on the catwalk, snarling orders at the top of his lungs, still thinking he has control of this fight.

Everything is chaos. Shouting from both sides. The sharp crack of suppressed rounds echoing in bursts. Shouts for cover, footsteps scattering through the sugar-dust haze. Somewhere to my right, a crate explodes into splinters.

Grime’s hand snaps out unnaturally fast and snatches me closer. It’s not for my protection. I feel his hatred in the way his grip squeezes me hard enough to leave bruises. He pulls me tight to him. The knife in his hand comes up to my throat and presses just enough to let me know he has all the control in this situation.

“That was a fuckin’ stupid thing to do,” he hisses. “Let’s see if we can get your lover boy to drop his weapon.”

He shifts me in front of him, tucking in close. He absolutely reeks of sweat, urine, and body odor. Across the warehouse, Ghost sees me. I feel the atmosphere shift to something more dangerous and deadly.

And even though I can’t see his eyes through the gear and shadows, I know they’re locked on mine.

Grime tightens his grip. The knife’s edge lifts just enough to kiss the underside of my jaw.

“Let’s see who blinks first.”

It doesn’t take long for Ghost’s voice to cut through the chaos, sharp and clear. “Drop the knife. Let her go.”

Grime doesn’t flinch. He keeps the blade against my jaw. His hand isn’t shaking. He’s calm and poised.

Carnage is still snarling orders from the mezzanine, firing wildly. Unfocused. Unhinged. The Grave Diggers are all noping out the front door one at a time.

“Heather’s mine!” Carnage screams. “You come near her and I’ll—”

“That’s enough.” Grime’s voice slices through the fighting, firm and in charge.

That’s when Carnage freezes. Everyone freezes.

“You’ve lost the battle, Carnage,” Grime says. He’s not being loud, but every word lands with a resounding thunk. “You’ve gotten one of us killed. Two locked up. And now you’ve brought him here.” He tilts his head towards Ghost. “For what? To prove something? To burn it all down?”

Carnage’s voice wavers. “You want to talk this now? While we’re under fire?”

Grime chuckles. It’s the worst sound I’ve ever heard—dry and rasping. “You destroy everything you touch.”

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