ASHES & PAIN
Chapter 10
STABBED
Morning light leaked through the blinds, cutting across tangled sheets, bare skin and discarded clothes.
Dulce’s bra hung from the lamp sideways. One of her heels sat near the bathroom door. Kolton’s kutte was half draped over the chair beside an empty Jack bottle and a crowded ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts.
Dulce stood near the dresser wearing one of Kolton’s t-shirts while trying to force her miniskirt on.
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, looking around the floor. “Where’s my other damn shoe?”
Kait cracked one eye open against the pillow.
“You threw it at Prince.”
Kolton groaned from beside her without opening his eyes. “Almost got my head with it.”
“You deserved it after being so fucking rude,” Dulce shot back instantly.
A faint smirk tugged at Kait’s mouth before disappearing again.
Her entire body ached.
Exactly what she’d wanted last night.
Just noise, alcohol, coke, and mindless sex.
Dulce finally spotted the heel near the bathroom and grabbed it. Her eyeliner was smeared from the night before and a dark bruise had already surfaced along the outside of her thigh.
Kait rolled slowly onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.
“We still gotta talk about that studio on the Eastside.”
“I know.”
“I’m serious, Dulce.”
The room settled quiet again.
Pipes groaning.
Wind scratching softly outside.
Dulce slipped her jacket on. “I’ll come by this week.”
Kait finally looked over at her. “You better.”
“I will.”
Then Dulce stepped closer to the bed and leaned down toward Kait, aiming for a soft goodbye kiss.
Kolton stopped by her putting a finger on her forehead.
“Nah,” he said roughly, voice thick with sleep. “You got enough of her last night.”
Dulce blinked at him.
Kolton smirked lazily without even opening his eyes fully.
“Your services are no longer needed.”
The words landed ugly.
Not loud.
Not angry.
Just dismissive enough to change the air in the room.
“Don’t be an asshole,” Kait said glancing back.
Kait watched Dulce’s expression flatten for half a second before she covered it with a scoff.
Kolton only grinned wider.
“Congrats on getting VP, by the way… Your Highness.”
Dulce looked back toward Kait after saying it.
“Yeah, yeah, fuck off already,” Kolton said reaching for a cigarette.
“See ya, Kait take care of that pretty face for me,” she said blowing her a kiss from the door and flipped Kolton off.
Kolton threw a pillow at her.
“Fuck you.”
Dulce giggled and shut the door.
“Stupid bitch.”
Kolton rolled closer behind Kait, warm hand sliding across her stomach beneath the sheets.
Kait grabbed his cigarette and took a drag.
“You okay?” he murmured against her shoulder.
Kait exhaled.
She didn’t know how to answer honestly.
Because the truth was she felt absolutely nothing.
“Yep.”
Kolton studied her another second like he didn’t fully buy it, then leaned over the side of the bed long enough to shove his cigarette into the ashtray before rolling back toward her.
His mouth found the side of her neck slowly.
Warm.
Lazy.
Possessive.
“I thought that may have been a little too much last night,” he murmured against her skin.
Kait closed her eyes and sighed.
“Not even…”
Kolton laughed softly under his breath and kissed lower beneath her jaw. “If I’m sore, you gotta be too, babe.”
“Well,” she muttered sleepily, “that ain’t stopping ya, is it?” she said grabbing him and feeling him already hard.
“Fuck no, it ain’t. Happy first fuck of the year.”
“That was last night.”
“Threesomes don’t count.”
That finally pulled a real laugh out of her.
Small.
Tired.
But real.
Kolton grinned against her throat and slid his hand along her waist beneath the sheets.
Kait rolled toward him and kissed him hard enough to shut both of them up.
Kolton pulled her closer, and she matched him with the same reckless intensity as the night before.
DON & LORAINE'S HOUSE
The house was quiet when Don walked in.
Not peaceful quiet.
Heavy quiet.
The kind that settled after too many years spent hating each other in the same rooms.
Loraine sat at the table already dressed, cigarette burning between her fingers beside a half-finished cup of coffee. Her tarot cards were spread neatly across the table in slow deliberate rows.
Of course they were.
Don dropped his keys near the counter with more force than necessary and immediately regretted it when his hangover stabbed behind his eyes.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
Loraine didn’t look up right away.
Her eyes lingered on one card another second before finally lifting toward him.
Then toward his neck.
A red mark just above his collar.
Her eyebrow rose slightly.
“Hm.”
Don already looked irritated. “What.”
Loraine took a slow drag from her cigarette.
“Why even pretend anymore, right?”
“Don’t start your shit. I’m way too hungover.”
Don pulled a bottle of water from the fridge hard enough to rattle the shelves.
Loraine smiled faintly at that.
Just sharp enough to remind him she still enjoyed cutting him open when she felt like it.
“Well, you got your wish, Kolton’s interim VP. Got majority of votes for some fucking reason.”
Don twisted the water bottle open and drank half of it in one pull before leaning heavily against the counter.
Loraine took a slow drag from her cigarette. “I told you he just needed a chance to prove himself. He’ll do great.”
Don laughed once without humor.
“That title is too big for him.”
“Well, tough shit. Your golden boy ain’t here no more.”
That did it.
Don crossed the kitchen in two strides and backhanded her so hard the chair twisted sideways beneath her before she crashed into the floor.
The tarot cards scattered across the tile.
Silence.
Loraine stayed down for a second, one hand against the floor, the other slowly touching her face.
Don stood over her breathing hard.
“This is the last goddamn time you stick your nose in my club’s business.”
Loraine said nothing.
Don pointed at her from above like he could barely stand looking at her anymore.
“You hear me? Getting real fucking tired of this shit.”
She looked up at him coldly from the floor.
Not afraid.
Just tired of everything.
Don’s jaw flexed.
“Happy fucking new year to you too, you old bitch.”
Then he turned and walked out of the kitchen before she could answer.
LA GLORIA - LATER
The taco stand sat on the edge of La Gloria like it had survived three back-to-back Mexican-American wars.
Faded Coca-Cola signs hung crooked beneath the awning. Half-colored Christmas lights still clung to the roofline despite New Year’s already passing. Mi Vida Eres Tú played softly from a radio inside the kitchen while the smell of grilled meat, onions, cilantro and gasoline drifted through the cold afternoon air.
Krait’s bikes lined the dirt shoulder outside beneath a leaning power pole.
Kait sat sideways on the Kriger near the curb with a cup of coffee warming her hands while Klik and Kloud argued nearby over whether the tacos were better here or in El Paso. Kriket smoked near the road watching traffic pass through town.
Diablo leaned silently against his bike a few feet away.
Watching everything.
Kolton came over and stopped close between Kait’s knees while absently running his thumb along her jaw where the bruising had finally faded yellow instead of deep purple.
“That’s lookin’ a hell of a lot better.”
Kait smirked faintly. “You should see the other guys.”
“That should be taken care of any day now, baby,” Kolton said and kissed her.
Kait took another sip of coffee without commenting.
Kolton’s hand slid from her jaw to the back of her neck gently.
“Was the ride okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine. Stop asking. I’m not crippled.”
Kolton grinned despite himself.
“There she is.”
Kait rolled her eyes slightly, but the corner of her mouth pulled upward anyway.
Across the road, Diablo watched the interaction quietly before glancing toward the highway again.
A pair of trucks rolled through town.
Dust trailing behind them.
Then finally, three Reyes bikes appeared in the distance.
Roque rode in front now as their new VP.
That still felt strange.
Murrieta rode beside him, face unreadable beneath dark sunglasses and a black beanie, low over his head.
Engines rumbled down.
Nobody moved fast.
Nobody relaxed either.
Roque removed his gloves slowly while looking over the group.
His eyes landed briefly on Kolton’s VP patch.
“Congrats are in order, I guess.”
Kolton held the stare evenly. “Likewise.”
Roque nodded once.
“Felicidades,” Santos said.
No judgment in it.
Just acknowledgment.
Murrieta stepped toward the taco stand window and pointed at his guys.
“You boys wanna eat now or later?”
“Now and later,” Kloud answered immediately.
“Nah, not you guys. We don’t feed snakes,” Murrieta answered.
“Wise man,” Kait said.
Kloud shrugged. “Well, he said it in English, so I thought he was talking to us.”
They all laughed.
Even Diablo almost smiled.
Almost.
“Later, come on,” Roque said.
The two new vice presidents made their way to the picnic table and sat down first. The old green metal table rocked unevenly when everybody else settled around it. Santos unfolded a stained county map across the middle while Roque lit a cigarette beside him.
Santos pointed toward a cluster of backroads south of La Gloria.
“They were here two nights ago.”
Kolton leaned forward slightly. “Confirmed?”
Roque nodded once. “Local rancher saw armed men moving vehicles after dark.”
“Same crew?” Diablo asked.
“Yep,” Roque answered. “Same truck. Same faces.”
Silence settled over the table.
Cold wind rattled the awning overhead.
Roque tapped another point farther north.
“Locals recognized a couple of them from the barrio shooting outside Rio Grande.”
Both Reyes men crossed themselves automatically.
Nobody else spoke.
They all remembered that one.
Roque tapped a little unnamed road cutting through brushland.
“They’re usin’ this route now.”
Kait finally leaned forward slightly. “Stash house?”
“Temporary,” Roque answered. “Little ranch place. Looks abandoned during the day.”
“How many?” Kolton asked.
“Six confirmed, maybe more.”
Roque pointed again toward the road.
“Anyway, we’ll only take y’all as far as the old church with no roof about a mile north. After that, you’re on your own.”
Santos nodded toward the map.
“Road splits past the church. Left side takes you toward the ranch house.”
“No address?” Klik asked.
Murrieta chuckled.
“This ain’t Dallas.”
That got the faintest snort out of Kait.
Murrieta looked at her briefly before continuing.
“Road dips low right before the property line. Watch yourselves there.”
Kait’s eyes narrowed slightly at the map.
“Good ambush spot.”
Murrieta nodded immediately.
“Simón”
They reached the outer fence line.
Still nothing.
No voices.
No movement.
Then Kait saw it.
Fresh cigarette smoke drifting faintly behind the shed.
“Hold—”
Gunfire exploded from the brushline before she finished the word.
Everybody dropped instantly.
Rounds tore through wood and dirt.
The fence beside Klik exploded apart in splinters.
“Contact left!” Diablo roared.
Kait already had her pistol out.
“Two shooters tree line!”
Kloud fired toward the ridge while Kriket scrambled behind an old water trough cursing under his breath.
Kolton tried pushing toward the shed for a better angle but exposed himself directly into open sightline.
“Down!” Kait screamed.
Too late.
Gunfire ripped toward him.
Diablo slammed into him hard enough to knock both of them sideways into the dirt as rounds shredded through the fence behind them.
“You trying to get yourself killed?” Diablo barked.
Kolton looked stunned for half a second.
Not scared.
Overloaded.
Trying to process too much too fast.
Kait fired twice toward movement near the ridge line.
One sicario dropped instantly.
“Kloud push right!” she snapped. “Klik keep suppressing! Kriket stay down!”
Everybody moved immediately.
Not because she outranked them.
Because she sounded like she knew exactly what she was doing.
Diablo noticed that hardest of all.
Kait moved through the brush fast and low without hesitation while rounds cracked overhead.
Military movement.
Controlled.
Efficient.
Another sicario tried flanking wide near the rear fence.
Kait spotted him first and crossed open ground before anybody could stop her.
“Kait!” Kolton shouted.
She ignored him completely.
Gunfire chased her across the dirt.
One round snapped past close enough she felt it.
And instead of fear—
she almost smiled.
Diablo saw that too.
“Fuckin’ hell…”
Kait slid behind the collapsed lean-to and fired twice.
The sicario dropped hard into the dirt.
Silence hit briefly.
Then another shooter opened up from farther uphill.
Kolton stood too high trying to find the angle.
Tunnel vision.
Again.
Diablo grabbed the back of his kutte and yanked him down just as rounds tore through the fence post beside his head.
“Stop standing the fuck up!” Diablo roared.
Kolton hit the dirt breathing hard now.
Actually shaken.
Kait appeared beside them a second later breathing heavily, dirt streaked across her face.
“Shooter’s elevated. North ridge. Single tree line.”
Diablo looked toward the angle immediately.
Again.
She was right.
Every single time.
Kolton tried taking control again.
“Alright, Klik swing left—”
“No,” Kait cut in immediately. “He wants crossfire. Make him move first.”
Diablo looked at her a second.
Military.
Pure military instinct.
Kait looked toward Klik.
“Three-second suppressive burst.”
Then toward Kloud.
“When he moves, kill him.”
Klik didn’t even look at Kolton.
“Got it. For Buster.”
Kait nodded.
Three seconds later the ridge exploded with gunfire.
The sicario broke cover.
Klik dropped him before he made three steps.
Then silence finally settled over the ranch again.
Six bodies.
No movement.
Just wind moving through dead grass and everyone breathing hard beneath the fading smell of gunpowder.
Diablo looked at Kolton.
Then at his patch.
And he knew exactly what he was going to do.
the nest - dryden
Don leaned back in the chair behind the Nest office desk, one boot propped against the bottom drawer while cigarette smoke curled thick beneath the yellow overhead light.
The Motorola StarTAC pressed against his ear crackled softly with distance.
“Well your men are disposable,” Don muttered, staring through the office window toward the courtyard outside. “Mine aren’t. Don’t tell me you don’t know the difference.”
A pause.
This conversation had gotten too long already.
“They’re on their way back now,” Don continued. “Got all of ’em.”
Néstor Mondragón chuckled quietly through the phone.
Low.
Amused.
“You will need to start seeing your men as disposable too if you want to make it big in this business, Donovan.”
Don’s jaw flexed slightly.
“Yeah?”
“Some debts are paid in blood,” Néstor continued calmly. “Remember that. So be ready to make sacrifices.”
Don leaned forward slowly, forearm resting across the desk.
“Yeah, well,” he muttered, “I ain’t exactly seeing much gain yet.”
Another small pause.
Then Néstor laughed again.
“That’s actually why I was calling.”
Don narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s time for the second part of our agreement.”
Silence settled for half a second.
Outside, cold January wind rattled somewhere through the courtyard fencing.
Don took a slow drag from his cigarette.
“And what’s that look like?”
“Let me fly you out here,” Néstor said smoothly. “We’ll talk in person this time.”
Don said nothing immediately.
Néstor’s voice lowered slightly.
“Let me treat you as a guest in my home this weekend. We’re having a party. Come with your crew, bring the wife if you want.”
That landed differently.
Don stared toward the dark office window another second before finally nodding slightly to himself.
“Alright.”
“Good,” Néstor replied. “My people will handle everything. Oh, and make sure to bring Kait.”
The line clicked dead.
Don lowered the phone slowly just as headlights swept across the courtyard outside the Nest.
A patrol cruiser.
Richter.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Don muttered. “Now what?”
He snapped the StarTAC shut and stood just as Richter climbed out of the cruiser wearing his winter jacket and that same permanently irritated expression he always seemed to carry around the Nest now.
Don stepped outside into the cold air before Richter even reached the office steps.
“Officer,” Don greeted casually.
Richter looked past him toward the clubhouse automatically.
“Mr. Westfall, good evening.”
Don smirked faintly. “You keep showing up here, people gonna start talkin’.”
“Already are.”
That got a short laugh out of Don.
Then the sound of motorcycles rolled into the lot.
Five exhausted and dust covered Krait.
Kait rode in first beside Kolton while the others followed behind them.
Richter’s eyes tracked the group carefully the second they rolled into the Nest courtyard.
Engines thundered down one by one.
Silence settled afterward beneath the ticking of hot metal and exhaust.
Nobody looked particularly happy to see law enforcement waiting for them.
Kolton pulled his helmet off first.
Richter’s eyes immediately dropped toward his waistband.
“That better not be a weapon inside your waistband, Mr. Westfall,” he said flatly. “You’re on probation.”
Kolton looked unimpressed. “Didn’t know you were my P.O.”
“How can we help you, Mike?” Kait asked calmly.
Richter shifted his attention toward her.
He didn’t look interested in joking tonight.
“Jacob Murphy and Allan Durst were murdered in county this morning.”
“Who?” Don asked casually.
“Chrome Union guys,” Kait answered before Richter could. Then back to him: “What happened?”
Richter watched every face carefully before answering.
“Both stabbed multiple times during a pod blackout.”
Don folded his arms slowly.
“Well… that’s unfortunate,” he said. “But I think you got the wrong MC. Chrome Union clubhouse is up north in Mercy.”
Richter ignored him.
“Funny thing is,” he continued, eyes moving across the group, “word inside says the attackers were known Krait MC associates.”
Kait said nothing.
Neither did Kolton.
Don shrugged lightly. “What the hell does ‘associate’ mean?”
“They’ve been seen at your parties. Talking to patched Krait members.”
Don scoffed.
“It’s a small town and we throw the best parties around. Whole damn county’s been through this place at some point. That don’t make people associates.”
He stepped a little closer.
“What exactly are you getting at, officer? You got somethin’ you wanna say?”
The second Don’s tone changed, the patched members subtly closed ranks around Richter.
Not aggressive.
Just enough.
Kolton stepped forward slightly. “You think we had something to do with that?”
Kait elbowed him just hard enough for him to feel it.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Except Diablo.
Richter looked directly at Kolton now.
“Did you?”
Tension tightened instantly.
Then Don stepped back into the conversation smoothly before Kolton could answer.
“You even the detective on this case?”
Richter shook his head slowly.
“Well,” Don said, “since you ain’t neither, I’m gonna ask you politely to get the hell off my property.”
Richter’s eyes dropped again toward Kolton’s waistband.
“I still got somebody on probation here carrying a firearm.”
Without even looking away from Richter, Kait shoved her hand into the back of Kolton’s jeans, pulled the pistol free and tucked it into the back of her own waistband.
“Not anymore.”
Diablo chuckled quietly behind them.
Richter didn’t look amused.
Kait held his stare evenly.
“Walk back to your car, boy,” Don said coldly. “Don’t make me call Sheriff McNeil and file a harassment complaint.”
Richter looked around the courtyard one last time.
At Don.
At Kolton.
At Diablo and the two new patches.
Then finally at Kait.
His eyes stayed on hers an extra second.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Y’all have a good night.”
Then he turned and walked back toward the cruiser while nobody moved until the headlights disappeared down the road.
The second Richter’s cruiser disappeared around the corner, Don grabbed Kolton by the front of his kutte and slammed him backward toward the office door.
“Get the fuck in.”
Kolton stumbled after him while the others stayed in the courtyard watching silently.
Don shoved the office door open hard enough it bounced off the wall.
“What the fuck happened?” he snapped the second the door shut behind them.
Kolton looked genuinely thrown off. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play stupid with me!” Don roared. “Why the fuck are they dead? It was supposed to be a beatdown.”
“I don’t fucking know.”
Kait stepped into the office a second later while Diablo stayed near the doorway listening.
Don pointed hard at Kolton.
“Do you know what this means?”
Kolton’s jaw tightened now. “I didn’t tell them to kill—”
“Do you know what happens if those dumb motherfuckers squeal about who ordered this?”
Kolton’s face shifted immediately.
There it was.
The real panic finally setting in.
“They wouldn’t— Fuck…”
“They are spending the rest of their lives in prison!” Don snapped. “You think they won’t get scared shitless and start talking, you dumb fuck!”
Kolton ran a hand over his face hard.
“Fuck…”
“This was your fucking idea,” Don continued. “So you better start figuring out how the fuck you’re gonna fix it.”
Kait watched quietly from beside the filing cabinets while Kolton paced once across the office trying to think.
Don looked furious enough to hit him.
“You understand the kind of heat this brings?”
Kolton nodded quickly. “Yeah.”
“No,” Don said coldly. “I don’t think you do.”
Silence settled heavily through the office.
Outside, somebody started another motorcycle in the courtyard.
Don looked toward the window briefly before turning back again.
“We’re having church as soon as Blaze gets back from the run.”
Kolton swallowed hard.
“And you better come up with a plan before then.”
Then Don looked directly at Kait.
Not stupid.
Not fooled.
He knew exactly whose brain he was really talking to.
Kolton slammed the bedroom door behind them hard enough to shake the wall.
“FUCK!”
He ripped his kutte off and threw it across the room before dragging both hands through his hair.
“I’m fucked.”
Kait stayed quiet.
Watching him pace.
Watching the panic finally catch up.
“I’m so fucked, Kait.” He turned toward her sharply. “I got a suspended sentence. If those idiots say my name, I’m done.”
“Take it easy.”
“I can’t take it fucking easy!” he snapped. “You heard Don!”
Kait crossed the room calmly while he kept spiraling.
“They’re gonna bury me over this shit.”
“Kolton.”
“I’m serious!” He dropped his weight on the bed angrily. “I’ll go to prison, Don’s gonna throw me under the fuckin’ bus to save the club and you know it.”
“Kolton.”
“I don’t know what the fuck to do.”
That finally cracked louder than the anger.
Fear.
Real fear.
Kait stepped directly in front of him and lifted his chin hard enough to make him focus.
“Listen to me.”
Kolton’s breathing stayed uneven.
“Kolt.”
His eyes finally locked onto hers.
“There you are.”
He swallowed hard.
“I’m freaking the fuck out.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“I don’t know what to do, babe.”
Kait kept one hand against his jaw gently now.
“Relax.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to relax right now?”
“Panicking makes people stupid. You need a clear head.”
That landed.
She held his stare another second before pulling him toward the bathroom.
“C’mon.”
Kolton let her guide him inside while she turned the shower on full hot.
Steam immediately started filling the small bathroom.
“You need to calm down before church.”
Kolton leaned heavily against the sink while Kait started pulling her shirt off casually like this was just another problem to solve.
“Don thinks I’m a fucking idiot.”
Kait glanced back at him.
“Well… your attitude’s not helping.”
That actually pulled the faintest breath of laughter out of him.
Barely.
Kait stepped into the shower first and reached for him through the steam.
“Get in here.”
Kolton stripped out of his clothes and stepped under the hot water beside her, still breathing too hard.
Kait slid both hands along his face again beneath the steam and forced him to focus on her instead of the panic spinning through his head.
“You wanna know how you fix this?”
Kolton nodded once.
Kait leaned closer beneath the steam.
“I have an idea,” she murmured softly.
She kissed him before he could ask another question.
Slow at first.
Then harder.
Deliberate.
Not just affection.
Control.
A way to pull him out of his own head before the panic swallowed him completely.
Kolton grabbed her waist instinctively, still tense beneath her hands, but Kait kept kissing him until his breathing finally started slowing down.
Until the fear loosened its grip.
Her fingers slid through his wet hair while hot water rolled down both of them.
“Stop thinking,” she whispered against his mouth.
Kolton looked at her like she had already saved him.
Kait pressed him back against the shower wall and kissed him again before he could spiral all over again.
And once again, he did exactly what she wanted.
Chapel - a few hours later
By then the Nest smelled like coffee, cigarettes, sweat, and damp leather.
Blaze, Kode, Kriket and Ram had only gotten back from the run about twenty minutes earlier and looked completely exhausted. The same went for the men from the ranch shootout. Dust still clung to boots and jeans.
Nobody looked rested.
Nobody looked particularly happy either.
Still, as Kait watched Kolton standing near the head of the table, she had to admit he looked exactly how he needed to.
Put together.
Relaxed.
Focused.
Standing straight with his chest out slightly.
Like Lane would stand.
The thought hit hard enough she immediately shoved it out of her head and forced herself back into the room.
Kolton rested both hands against the back of a chair while looking around church.
“As y’all know by now,” he began evenly, “things got outta hand in county and Murphy and Durst are dead.”
Nobody interrupted.
Not even Don.
Kolton continued carefully.
“I got a solution for this.”
Kait watched several heads lift slightly around the table.
“We patch in Lopez and Anderson full in.”
That got reactions immediately.
Klik frowned.
Ram leaned back in his chair.
Blaze crossed his arms slowly.
Kolton kept going before anybody interrupted him.
“They already spilled blood for the club whether they were patched or not. So now we make them ours officially.”
Diablo stayed completely still sitting back.
Staring at the tank. Just watching the Judge move.
“We take care of their families while they’re inside,” Kolton continued. “And we take care of them too.”
Don still hadn’t spoken.
That meant he was listening.
Kolton nodded slightly toward the table.
“This also gives us somethin’ we ain’t never had before.”
“Prison presence,” Kode said quietly.
Kolton pointed at him once.
“Exactly.”
Now Don’s expression changed slightly.
Interest.
Real interest.
“If any Krait ever does time,” Kolton continued, “we got our own people there now. Protection matters inside whether we like it or not.”
Silence settled for a second.
Then Diablo finally spoke.
“What if they don’t accept?”
Everybody looked toward him.
Kait answered before Kolton could.
“They’d be stupid not to.”
Her voice stayed calm.
“We pay for everything. Their families. Their commissary. Their defense.”
Ram frowned slightly. “What if these stupid motherfuckers wanna go to trial?”
Kait shook her head once.
“Nobody in Gen Pop is gonna testify.”
Kolton picked it right back up smoothly.
“Part of the deal is they plead out anyway.”
Now the room started actually thinking about it.
Not reacting.
Thinking.
“That’s gonna cost us a fortune,” Randy said.
Don leaned back slowly in his chair while studying Kolton across the table.
And even though nobody else seemed to notice it—
Kait did.
Because Don wasn’t looking at Kolton like he was impressed.
He was looking at him like he was trying to figure out where the hell that idea really came from.
“Alright,” he muttered.
The room stayed silent.
Don pointed toward the table.
“First thing… those two idiots already spilled blood tied to Krait whether we claim ’em or not.”
Several heads nodded slightly.
“Second,” Don continued, “if law enforcement squeezes ’em, they got no reason to keep their mouths shut as nobodies.”
He pointed once toward Kolton now.
“But patched members?”
Now he had the room.
“That changes things. Besides, Anderson’s been bugging to prospect since he was fifteen.”
Don stood slowly from his chair and started pacing once around the edge of church.
“We give ’em identity. Protection. Lawyers. Money on the books. Families looked after.”
Then he pointed toward the floor hard enough to punctuate it.
“And in return, they shut the fuck up forever.”
Kait nodded.
Nobody argued with that logic.
Not even Diablo.
Don kept going now, fully dissecting it for the table.
“You boys know what happens when one of ours lands inside right now?”
Kolton nodded.
“I sure as fuck do. We gotta program with the Woods or worst-case scenario, with the goddamn AB. We got nothing in there right now,” Kolton said talking from recent experience.
Diablo let out a dry laugh.
“Ain’t any better for us in there either. Chicanos, cartel, Ram’s tíos…”
Ram shrugged.
“They’ll hook you up, man.”
“That’s true,” Don answered himself. “No backup. No eyes. No influence.”
He looked around church carefully.
“That’s weakness.”
Now even Blaze looked interested.
Don nodded once slowly.
“But if Lopez and Anderson hold down county and eventually the Big House too…”
He let the thought settle.
“Now we got infrastructure.”
Kait noticed the exact second the room shifted emotionally.
This wasn’t damage control anymore.
Now they were seeing opportunity.
Protection.
Information.
Future leverage.
Don looked toward Kolton again.
“Honestly?” Don admitted. “This might end up being the smartest thing to come outta this whole fuckin’ mess.”
Kolton nodded once, trying not to look too relieved.
Diablo noticed that too.
“Damn,” Blaze muttered, exhaling cigarette smoke toward the ceiling. “Talk about a bad break. Trying to get patched in for the longest and this is how they get it.”
“Day late and a buck short,” Randy said.
A couple low chuckles moved around the table.
Don smirked faintly.
“Shit, that can be their roadnames.”
The amusement faded almost immediately when his expression hardened again.
“But anyway,” he continued, “this only works if they accept the deal before anybody else gets in their ears.”
Kolton straightened slightly.
Don pointed toward the door.
“So get in touch with Grant. He needs to be retained immediately and get his ass in there to talk to them.”
The room stayed quiet.
“Call him up,” Don said. “Tell him what’s goin’ on. Handle it today.”
Kolton nodded once. “I will.”
Church slowly started breaking apart after that.
Kait watched Kolton get immediately swallowed into conversation with Don and Kode near the table, already talking logistics and lawyers and money.
Already acting like leadership.
She wondered briefly how much of it was real now.
Then decided she didn’t care enough to think about it tonight.
Outside, cold air rolled through the Nest courtyard.
Diablo went quietly into the garage and lit up a cigarette leaving the clubhouse noise behind him.
He took a deep breath before finally reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone.
The number was muscle memory by now.
The line rang twice.
Then:
“Yeah?”
Lane sounded half asleep.
Diablo looked back once toward the door.
Toward everything Krait was turning into.
Then he took a slow drag from his cigarette.
“You got room for one more in Huntsville?”
