Page 30 of Fury
What happens next unfolds with the brutal efficiency of men accustomed to violence. Greyson crosses the room in three strides, his fist connecting with Richard's jaw with a force that lifts the man off his feet. Richard crashes into the wall, but before he can slide to the floor, Greyson grabs him by the throat, mimicking the way he'd choked me moments before.
"You touched what's mine," Greyson says, his voice terrifyingly calm as he slams Richard's head against the wall. "You hunted her. Terrorized her."
Each accusation is punctuated with another slam, blood smearing the rough wood behind Richard's head.
"Enough." My father's voice cuts through the cabin. He steps forward, gun in hand. "Not here. Not like this."
Greyson doesn't release his grip immediately. For a moment, I think he might kill Richard right there, consequences be damned. Then, with visible effort, he steps back.
Richard slumps to the floor, barely conscious, blood streaming from multiple wounds—the bullet graze on his arm, the gash on his forehead from my crowbar, and fresh injuries from Greyson's assault.
"Get him out of here," Dad orders. Two club members drag Richard to his feet and out the door.
Then Greyson is kneeling beside me, his hands gentle as they cradle my face. "Livie," he breathes, eyes scanning every inch of me for injuries. "Jesus Christ."
"I'm okay," I rasp, my voice hoarse from the choking. "I fought back."
Pride flashes in his eyes. "I saw that. Remind me never to piss you off when you're holding a crowbar."
A laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep inside me, slightly hysterical but genuine. "He didn't expect me to fight. That was his mistake."
Greyson helps me to my feet, his arm around my waist supporting most of my weight. Now that the adrenaline is fading, I can feel every bruise, every scratch, the burning in my throat, and the ache in my muscles.
"The prospects?" I ask, suddenly remembering the men who had been guarding the house.
"Two wounded, none killed," Dad says, coming to my other side. "They'll recover."
"And Richard?"
A dark look passes between my father and Greyson. "Don't worry about him," Dad says. "He won't hurt anyone ever again."
I know better than to ask for details. Some things in MC life are better left unspoken, especially when it comes to how enemies are dealt with.
Outside, the forest is alive with activity, with club members securing the area and bikes parked haphazardly where they were abandoned in haste. In the distance, I hear sirens approaching.
"Police," Mason answers my unspoken question, appearing from around the cabin.
"Good," I say, surprising everyone including myself. "They should see this. See him. And I have evidence they need to see."
Greyson's arm tightens around me. "Evidence?"
"Diane sent everything. It's in my email and I forwarded it to all of you. Records of all his victims, the payments, even his plans for me." I look up at Greyson, then at my father. "I want him prosecuted. I want it all on record what he did, what he planned to do. So even if he somehow walks away from this, there's a paper trail a mile long following him."
Dad nods slowly, understanding dawning. "Smart girl. The legal system might fail, but the record remains."
"And if the legal system fails," Greyson adds quietly, for my ears only, "we won't."
The police arrive in a flurry of activity, where statements are taken, evidence is collected, and Richard is loaded into an ambulance under guard. I tell them everything, showing them the files Diane sent, explaining the stalking, the break-in, the attack. I leave out certain details, like exactly how Richard received some of his injuries, but the truth is damning enough without embellishment.
Through it all, Greyson stays by my side, a solid presence anchoring me when memories threaten to overwhelm me. His hand never leaves mine, a silent promise that I'm not alone, not anymore.
As the sky darkens and the last police car pulls away, I find myself sitting on the porch of Greyson's house, wrapped in a blanket someone found. The power has been restored, the broken window temporarily patched. Greyson brings me a mug of hot tea, sitting beside me on the steps.
"You were incredible today," he says after a long silence. "Most people would have collapsed under that kind of fear."
I sip the tea, letting its warmth soothe my raw throat. "I was terrified," I admit. "But something happened when he broke into the cabin. I just… refused to allow a man to harm me without fighting tooth and nail to make sure I make it back home.
"I'm also really fucking angry at Diane," I say, setting my mug down with more force than necessary. "She knew what kind of monster Richard was. She had evidence of what he'd done to other women. And she hid that flash drive in our apartment without telling me what I was living with."
