Page 166 of Riot

But Tessa? Tessa just laughed. Low and cold.

“Because you’re a bitch.”

And that was it.

Havoc’s face twisted. He didn’t think. He didn’t aim.

He just pulled the trigger.

The sound shattered the world.

Tessa’s body jolted. Blood splattered across the antique chair. Her head slumped forward. Her eyes didn’t close.

“NO!” I roared—and shot.

Two rounds.

Right between his eyes.

He hit the floor like a rag doll. Limp. Soulless. Gone.

“FUCK!”

I screamed it, punched the wall until my knuckles split open. Creed just stood there, staring at Tessa’s body like his brain couldn’t catch up.

Our mother was gone.

Madeira was gone.

And Rollo?

Rollo was still missing—no, not missing. We knew. Deep down, we both knew.

He was gone, too.

Creed finally spoke, voice low, hoarse. “We’ll find his body.”

I couldn’t answer. My mouth worked, but nothing came out.

I had nothing left to say.

Just blood on my hands… and a multiple graves to dig.

We had to clean this shit up, but my mind wasn’t right. Couldn’t think straight. Havoc’s confession had me twisted. For years, we thought Silas was only touching strangers. But that sick motherfucker poisoned his own blood. His own fuckin’ son.

And yeah, I hated Havoc. Still do. But in that moment? I felt sorry for him. Real sorry.

Silas ruined all of us, but he ruined Havoc the worst. That boy never stood a fuckin’ chance.

He was broken before he ever got to breathe.

And now look, Madeira’s gone. My mother’s gone. Rollo’s probably gone. And it all traces back to that sick bastard and the shit he did in the dark.

Everything dead in this house?

Silas killed it first.

His ghost still got us being puppets on his phantom strings, making us bleed, making us bury each other one by one.

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