Page 55 of Gravity
“The hell it isn’t.” Stone stepped closer, face inches away, voice dropping to a rough rasp. “It damn well is when you’re all I’ve got.”
Dave’s breath hitched, just once.
“I can handle Franklin.” His voice was quieter now, but sharp, controlled.
Stone shook his head, chest tight. “This isn’t about handling Franklin. It’s about me burying you.”
The words hung between them, raw and jagged.
Stone felt the pull to reach for him, to close the space between them, but his hands stayed locked at his sides.
“Stone…” The edge in Dave’s voice broke—just for a beat. The steel, the command, all of it flickered and fell away.
Stone’s throat worked, but the fury wouldn’t let go. “Don’t you get it? I’d rather lose Franklin than lose you.”
Dave looked away, swallowing hard, then dragged his gaze back. “We don’t have that choice. We can’t risk him getting away. That’s the only reason I’m doing this.”
Stone stared at him, eyes raw, jaw set like granite. He didn’t argue again, but the silence said enough.
Finally, he turned for the door, voice clipped. “Then do what you always do. Carry the weight, break yourself, and leave the rest of us to pick up the pieces.”
The door slammed behind him.
Dave stayed rooted in the silence, chest tight, the fight still clawing through him. For a moment, his shoulders sagged, and he rubbed at his temples.
Then he straightened, pulled the steel back into place, and walked from the room.
The war room was quieter when Dave stepped back in, but the tension clung like smoke.
Boston leaned forward in his chair, restless energy vibrating off him. Sage sat still, sharp eyes flicking up at Dave and then away. Rip scowled at the table, jaw working. Viper stood with arms crossed, expression hard.
Dave shut the door, the sound sharp in the silence. He crossed to the head of the table, planted his hands on the scarred wood, and let his gaze sweep the room.
Titus hadn’t moved. He lounged where he’d been, that same cool calm wrapped around him like armor, the faint curl of a smile still playing at his mouth.
Law stood near the back, broad shoulders braced against the wall, arms crossed. His eyes weren’t on Dave or Titus—they tracked Sage. Quiet, measured, like he was already weighing the young man’s chances.
The door opened again.
Stone stalked back in, jaw set, eyes still burning. He didn’t speak, just moved to stand beside Dave’s desk, arms folded tight across his chest.
He might’ve been pissed as hell, but he wasn’t leaving Dave alone.
Ever.
Dave’s voice cut through the noise, clipped and steady. “Here’s how it stands. Titus doesn’t have enough men to go solo.”
The room went still. Even the hum of the lights seemed to fade.
“Franklin won’t talk to kids—no offense,” Titus added, flicking a glance at Boston and Sage.
“None taken,” Boston said easily.
Dave nodded once. “So, Franklin will deal with me.”
“It’s better if you go in as a seller instead of handler. He’ll expect a transaction,” Titus said.
“That’s settled then. I’ll go as a seller. Boston and Sage run under my cover.”
