Page 53 of Hunter's Game
Her smile was sharp as broken glass. “Revenge.”
They split up, Hunter heading to reinforce King’s position while Eden made her way toward the factory. The battle raged around her, but she moved like a ghost through familiar shadows. Every explosion, every burst of gunfire was a distraction from her real target.
Mike Carson. The Devil’s Mark Vice President and her father’s longtime confidant. Carson had been a fixture in Eden’s childhood, the seeminglyloyal lieutenant who’d mentored her in motorcycle mechanics and occasionally stepped in when Merrick’s temper flared.
For years, she’d believed he was one of the few genuinely decent men in her father’s club. Now she knew better. The surveillance footage had revealed his regular meetings with Romano, his role in her mother’s death, and his continued efforts to undermine both MCs from within.
She reached the factory’s maintenance ladder just as another helicopter passed overhead, its searchlight sweeping the compound. In its harsh glare, she caught glimpses of the chaos below: Blind Jacks and Romano’s forces locked in brutal combat, the line between outlaw and mercenary blurring in blood and violence.
The roof access was already open when she reached it. Eden moved silently, staying low as she approached the figure silhouetted against pre-dawn sky.
Mike Carson stood with his back to her, his stocky frame silhouetted against the lightening horizon. Even from behind, she recognized the vice president’s distinctive posture—shoulders slightly hunched from an old motorcycle accident, head cocked to the right as he surveyed the battlefield below. The early light caught the silver in his beard and the worn leather of his cut, patches faded from years of sun and weather. His hands, broad with thick fingers and prominent knuckles from decades of both mechanic work and violence, rested on theparapet as he calculated angles and distances with practiced precision.
“I wondered when you’d figure it out.” Carson turned slowly, his familiar face twisted in something like regret. “Though I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re your mother’s daughter, after all.”
Eden kept her weapon trained on his chest. “How long have you been working for Romano?”
“Longer than you’ve been alive.” His laugh was bitter. “Your mother knew, you know. That’s why she tried to run—not just from Merrick, but from all of it. She knew how deep the corruption went.”
“And you helped kill her.” The words tasted like ash.
“I gave her a chance!” Real emotion cracked his controlled facade. “Told her to take the money and disappear. But she wouldn’t let it go. Wouldn’t stop digging into Romano’s operation. Just like you won’t stop.”
“Because some things are worth dying for.”
“Honor?” He spat the word. “Justice? Wake up, Eden. The world doesn’t work that way anymore. Men like Romano, they’re the future. The best we can do is pick the right side.”
“And that’s what this is?” She gestured at the battle raging below. “Picking the right side?”
“This is survival.” He moved slightly, and Eden recognized the shift in his stance. He was preparing to fight. “Romano’s going to win. Hisoperation is too big, too well-connected. The smart play is to be on his payroll when the dust settles.”
“Always about the money with you guys.” Eden’s smile was razor-sharp. “That’s why you never understood my mother. Or me.”
“Then enlighten me.” But his hand was moving toward his weapon. “What’s it really about?”
“Family.” The word hung between them like a death sentence. “The one thing Romano could never buy.”
They moved at the same moment, Carson drawing his weapon as Eden dove for cover. Bullets sparked off metal as they engaged in a deadly dance across the roof.
“Your father understood!” Carson called over the gunfire. “He knew the game, knew how to play it! If you’d just followed his lead—”
“My father was a coward who got played by everyone!” Eden’s shot caught him in the shoulder, spinning him around. “Romano, you, even me! He died thinking he was finally choosing a side, when really he was just another pawn!”
“Better a living pawn than a dead hero!” Carson’s return fire forced her to roll behind a ventilation unit. “Look around you, Eden! How many more people have to die for your crusade?”
As if to emphasize his point, another explosion rocked the compound. Through the smoke, Eden caught glimpses of movement on the ground—Hunter and King leading a counterattack, the Blind Jacks rallying behind their leaders.
“You’re right.” She pitched her voice to carry. “People are dying. But not for my crusade.”
“No?” She could hear him moving, trying to flank her position. “Then what are they dying for?”
“Ask yourself that question.” Eden tracked his movement by sound. “Why are you really here, Mike? Because Romano’s paying you? Or because you can’t live with what you helped do to my mother?”
His hesitation was minute, but it was enough. Eden came around the corner firing, two shots center mass before he could react. Carson went down hard, blood blooming across his chest. She should be effected by the brutal image of a man she’d known for practically ever lying there bleeding by her own hand, but all she could see was the betrayer instead.
“You’re just like her.” Blood stained his teeth as Carson smiled. “She had that same look when she figured it out. When she realized I’d betrayed her.”
“Did she beg?” Eden kept her weapon trained on him as she approached. “When you helped kill her?”
