Page 76 of Burned in Stone
Devil’s. It wasn’t just a bar. It was an institution. It was where I learned what genuine camaraderie felt like over nights out with my brothers. Where I sat every Friday night for years, nursing beers and pretending I wasn’t desperately lonely until Mercy showed up and changed everything.
Gone. All of it. Because Gabriel couldn’t break us, so he’s burning down everything we care about instead.
There’s a current in the clubhouse—a hard wind of movement and words, men and women flowing in the same direction, everyone with that grim, urgent focus you only see when something unthinkable happens.
In the great room, Stone is already standing near the mantel. He’s all commanding presence, not a hint of the worry I know has to be eating him alive. Bones and Tank are there too, plus every patched member I’ve ever seen. Even Duck, looking more alert this early in the day than I’ve ever witnessed him, is already seated with Maggie beside him, both of them with their game faces on. Around the edges, hang-arounds and prospects cluster like debris pulled upstream by the force.
“Find a seat or somewhere to stand,” Stone says, and every ass in the room hits a chair in unison. Mercy helps me to a seat near Hawk and Axel, and they jump up to help lower me down. Then Mercy stands behind me, hands perched on my shoulders, steady and sharp and ready to rip out anyone’s jugular if they so much as look at me sideways.
Stone waits until everyone is gathered—Steel and Mouse take posts at the doors, every member lining up the walls like wallpaper made of meat and tattoos. Only then does Stone start talking, and when he does, every word lands with the weight of a bullet.
“At 4:18 this morning, Devil’s Bar burned to the ground,” he says. His voice is quiet, steady, but there’s a razor edge in it I’ve never heard before. “Fire crews are still working, and Kya and Lee are at the scene. But from what we know, it’s arson. Whole thing was torched front to back. Fire chief is calling it suspicious because the main line to the sprinklers had been cut. No one was inside, no casualties. But the bar is a total loss.”
A hush rolls through the room, then a collective growl that’s more wolf pack than human. I ball my fists so hard my wounds break open, and I feel Mercy’s hands clench over my shoulders in tandem.
“We know who did it?” Hawk asks, knuckles white against his knees.
Stone gives one sharp nod. “Security footage is already in Kya’s hands. She’s working with the insurance guy and the city. But from what we can see, two men in Summit uniforms left five minutes before the blaze started, and our new friends at Stoneheart PD ran interference to keep fire response delayed. This was a coordinated fucking hit.”
Bones leans forward, voice iron. “You want blood?”
Stone’s eyes practically glow, and I realize he’s barely holding onto his own leash. “That’s why I called the meeting here instead of in the chapel.” He looks around the room. “The events last night were an act of war. Some of you haven’t been here longenough to remember what Stoneheart was like before the MC. Back then, this town was just a punching bag for anyone with a badge, a bank, or bigger fists. But we changed that. We gave people a place to feel safe. When they burn Devil’s, they’re not just torching a bar. They’re telling everyone on the mountain our protection doesn’t mean shit. That we’re already done.” He takes a breath, just one, but it’s enough for every body in the room to tense even tighter. “I won’t let that message stand. Not for a fucking second.”
He scans the room, pausing on everyone—his patch brothers, their old ladies, even the hang-arounds. The meaning is clear. This isn’t some back-alley squabble. This is survival, MC style.
“This is how I see it.” He paces a slow circle at the room’s core. “Summit got tired of waiting for everyone to sell, so they’re escalating. They sent Gabriel after Cash, thinking maybe a little intimidation would scare him into giving them something they could use. When that didn’t work, they went ahead and burned down our best asset. They want to break us in public, in front of the whole goddamned town.”
“So we take ‘em out.” That’s Tank, all anger and muscle and intent. “Say the word, Prez. I’ll handle it. Break some knees, send a message.”
For a heartbeat, Stone lets us taste the idea. Then he flicks his gaze to me. “Cash. This was about you and Mercy. The bar was just the opening shot.”
I know what he wants from me—restraint. He wants my logic over his rage. But right now, sitting here with my ribs tap-dancing every time I breathe and Mercy’s fingernails digging into my shoulder, I want nothing more than to march down toSummit’s gleaming glass palace and pull Gabriel through the doors by his nostrils.
But I force myself to think.
“They’re going for shock and awe. Trying to spook the locals, break our hold on downtown, get all the businesses to sell early or switch sides.”
Every word feels wrong, because what I really want to say is,Let me at him. Let me find that bastard and sethimon fire.
But I learned something last night when his goons were working me over. Gabriel’s playing the long game—fake arrests, black sites, burning evidence. He’s building a narrative where we’re the criminals violence follows, and he’s the hero cleaning up the town. The second we give himrealviolence? We hand him the story he needs.
So I give Stone what he needs instead: my brain, not my fists. Gabriel wants a war. We’ll give him a trial.
“We can’t fight fire with fire on this,” I continue.
“Correct,” Stone says, voice sharp. “They want us to react, make a move they’ll use to frame the club as a violent threat.”
“They’re baiting us,” Hawk says, half question, half statement of truth.
“Which means we work in the shadows on this,” Stone replies, but there’s a mean curl in the edge of his mouth. “We get one shot to punch where it counts.” He turns to me again. “Cash, you talked with Josie yet this morning?”
Before I can answer, I see her. She’s in the back, immaculate, phone in hand. She winks at me.
I shake my head. “Nope, not yet.”
Mercy’s hands shift on my shoulders, a silent solidarity.
Stone continues. “Josie and I have a plan. We go legal on this one. Gather our own evidence. We do this right, because if we slip up even once, every cop in the county will have the excuse they need to start rounding up patches. Cash, you’re no good on the road. So, you and Mercy are on research. What we have right now can be argued as circumstantial. We want concrete. All the cameras in the bar had offsite storage. Find faces, car plates, anything we can use. Hawk, you’re on logistics—find out which Summit properties those uniforms came from and if they’re still on payroll. Tank, you’re with Bones on street intel. Don’t get seen, don’t get caught, but find out who started the fire and who gave the order. This was meant to be public, so someone’ll know something. I want names.”
