Page 77 of Revenge Saints
A fucking trading coin.
And the second we take the base back?
I’m putting a bullet in Bryn’s skull.
I don’t care how long it takes. Idon’tcare who tries to stop me.
Dante nods, silent, but I see it in his eyes, the tension winding through his jaw, the way he keeps rolling his shoulder even though it’s clearly fucked. He’s in pain, but his rage runs deeper.
“She’s even more insane if she thinks Roman gives a shit about her,” Max mutters, eyes fixed on his half-empty can.
“He’s sick,” Dante spits, and both of us snap our heads up.
“What do you mean, sick?” Max asks sharply.
Dante exhales, slow and bitter.
“There was this guy, Sean. A doctor. He was part of some community Roman, and his men raided. Sean said Roman washunting women, but I think he already knew a doctor was there.” Dante looks straight at me, hard.
“Sean?” I ask. “Was that the man you had with you?”
He nods. “He kept me alive. When I was in the living room with a gun to his head, Bryn tried to shoot me, and some of Roman’s guys stopped her. Said RomanneededSean.” Dante shakes his head. “His man would rather have me escape than kill Sean. He needs the doc.”
“Fuck.” My brain starts firing. Connections snapping together like wires sparking.
“So that’s why he wanted the base. Water. Power. Clean floors. Security. If his health’s deteriorating…” I trail off, fists curling.
Now it makes sense. He wasn’t after us; he was after survival. The base is a fortress, and Roman’s finally scared.
Too bad he isn’t dying faster. A desperate man’s the most dangerous kind. And Roman? He’s the type to burn everything down with him.
“So we kill Bryn. Roman. Every last one of his men.” Max spits out. “And deal with the destruction later.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Dante mutters with a tight smile.
But I don’t smile back.
“Aspen will never forgive us if we kill Bryn,” I say quietly.
And just like that, the tension cuts the air.
“She can’t stay alive,” Max growls. “There’s no fucking way.” But I hear it. The flicker of doubt behind the anger.
Dante stares at the floor, his face hardening. “So welose Aspen too?”
“Never.” I growl, closing my eyes and leaning back. “She might get pissed. She might hate us. But she’ll never leave us.”
They don’t answer.
They don’t have to.
I know what they’re thinking. But I don’t give a shit.
When I said she was mine,ours,I meant it with everything inside me.
I’m not letting her go.
Yeah, it’s cliché as fuck. But I don’t care. Even before the Crimson Plague, I’ve never felt this way about anyone. That need tohaveher.Touchher.Tasteher. Destroy anything that looks at her wrong.
