FIRE & RUIN
CHAPTER 8
SETTING THE STAGE
Kait opened her eyes slowly then blinked a couple of times.
She was laying on her stomach, face turned to the side.
Cheek pressed into a pillow that wasn’t hers.
The light from the window felt too bright.
She squinted, groaned low, and tried to shift—immediately regretted it. Her head pounded like something was knocking from the inside.
The room was wrong.
Not the Nest.
It took a second.
Then it clicked.
Everything was pink.
Dulce’s.
Kait exhaled through her nose, eyes closing again. She stayed still, letting the wave pass. Her body felt heavy, slow, like it wasn’t fully hers yet.
She was in her underwear, and as she moved her legs and arms, she felt the coolness and softness of the satin sheets all around her and remembered a little more of the night before.
Then the smell hit.
Eggs… and something else.
Kait’s stomach turned.
“The fuck…”
Her voice came out rough, barely there.
From the other room—
“You awake?”
Dulce.
Too cheerful.
Too early.
Kait didn’t answer right away. She pushed herself up slow, sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on her knees, head hanging for a second.
The smell got worse.
Kait rubbed her face.
“No,” she muttered. “Not yet.”
Dulce laughed from the kitchen.
“I made breakfast!”
“And what is that, exactly?”
Then Dulce appeared in the doorway, barefoot, pink toes nails, holding a plate like she was proud of it.
“Eggs and Weenies. Scrambled eggs with some sliced hotdogs mixed in.”
Kait looked at it.
Looked away.
“No.”
Dulce frowned a little, like she didn’t understand how that was possible.
“Ay, gringa. It’s good. Zero carbs.”
“I like carbs.”
Kait stood up grabbing her thermals from the floor. She put on the thermals and steadied herself for a second before moving past her toward the kitchen.
“Actually, I need carbs. Got bread?”
Dulce followed her immediately.
“Yeah, there’s coffee ready too,” she said biting her lower lip looking at Kait from behind. “How do you have that ass eating bread?”
“You got strawberry jelly by any chance?” she asked but found it before Dulce answered.
“YES”
Dulce joined her and sat at her small glass breakfast table.
Kait grabbed two slices, moved slower than usual but still deliberate. Found the toaster and stuck the slices in. She crossed her arms and leaned on the counter.
“No way… Is that why?” Dulce asked with a mouthful of eggs and weenies and a grin.
“Hmm?” said Kait arms crossed, eyes closed.
“Is that where ‘Toast’ comes from?”
Kait took a deep breath. “Yeah.”
“Oh my god, that is so cute!” she said in a very high pitch voice.
“Jesus fuck.”
The toast and coffee helped Kait a great deal, then she started thinking about the night before and had an idea. She borrowed Dulce’s phone and called Vernon Holloway.
It rang twice.
Three times.
Then—
“Hello?”
Vernon Holloway.
Calm. Older. Polite.
“Mr. Holloway, it’s Kait Lokken.”
“Oh—Kait! Hey. Good morning.”
She leaned her hip against the counter, voice steady.
“Morning. Listen, Vernon, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Yeah, of course. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just— So, something came up and I wanted to see if maybe we could do the payment installments instead.”
“Installments? You already put your down payment, then we do paperwork and you send me your checks after that. But right now, you don’t worry about a thing.”
“Yeah. No, that part is fine, I was talking about the down payment. Instead of all upfront… maybe we break it up. I can still cover it, just have a bit of an emergency.”
Silence on the other end.
Not tense.
Just… processing.
“Well…” he said slowly, “I mean—I already pushed everything through.”
Kait’s jaw tightened just a fraction.
“Pushed what through.”
“The contractor. It’s my buddy’s son and his two boys are helping him too. His name is Marcos. They started on it already. All three of them are going to work very hard so you can move in right away. They have everything, the boards, paints, everything. They’ll git-r-done for ya.”
He sounded almost pleased about it.
Kait stared at nothing for a second.
“Right.”
“You did it the smart way. You paid in full. Just like you said. You went all in.”
He chuckled lightly.
Kait didn’t respond right away.
“Yeah,” she said finally. “Smart.”
“Alright, sweetheart. You need anything from me, you let me know.”
“I will.”
A beat.
“Thanks, Mr. Holloway.”
“Anytime, Kait.”
Kait ended the call and looked up.
The kitchen felt quieter after.
Dulce was still watching her.
“What happened?”
Kait set the phone down on the counter.
“I need money.”
She took another bite of toast.
Chewed.
Swallowed.
Nothing on her face.
Just the gears turning.
Dulce stepped in closer.
“For what?”
“Club business.”
“Oh.” A beat. “How much?”
Kait didn’t look at her.
“A lot.”
Dulce scoffed softly, closing the space between them. “I can give you money,” she murmured, leaning in—her lips brushing Kait’s.
Kait didn’t move.
“It’s not gas money, Dulce.”
Dulce smiled against her skin, slow, testing. “You’re not telling me how much,” she whispered.
Kait exhaled through her nose.
“It’s in the thousands.”
Dulce shifted, trailing up to her jaw. “You can always sign up for Amateur Night.”
Kait let out a quiet, tired laugh.
“For what—five hundred and some pocket change?”
Dulce pulled back just enough to look at her.
“No, baby.”
Her hand slid under the waistband of Kait’s underwear, deliberate, confident.
“Girls like you?” she said, voice low. “You walk out with three, maybe five grand. Easy.”
Kait’s eyes dropped to her lips. Feeling Dulce’s fingers slide in.
Her body starting to react.
“Big oil guys are gonna be in town this weekend too and they go all out.”
Kait looked back up at her.
“Really?”
Dulce smiled.
“Uh-huh. And they’ll go crazy for you.”
Then she kissed her.
LLANTERA RANGEL
The capilla wasn’t loud this time.
Men sat around the table, low voices, short conversations that didn’t last. Nobody laughing. Nobody playing music.
Just waiting.
The door opened.
Alacrán walked in.
No rush. No look around.
He went straight to his seat at the head of the table and sat down.
Hands on the armrests.
Quiet.
The room settled on its own.
Nobody told them to.
He let it sit for a second.
Then—
“We gonna make our move.”
That got attention.
Not loud.
But it landed.
“But get ready ‘cause this will start a war,” he said, eyes moving around the table.
A chair creaked.
Someone leaned in.
“We’ll send a message.”
Severino sat back relaxed, arms crossed, watching.
Not interrupting.
Not smiling.
Alacrán looked straight ahead.
“That truck coming up from Roma.”
Now the room changed.
Eyes sharper.
Bodies forward.
“We gonna fuck it up.”
Silence.
Then—
“¿Cómo?” Murrieta asked.
Alacrán didn’t look at him.
“We stop it. Take care of the driver and any pinchi culebra you see in the way.”
Severino’s jaw tightened just slightly.
Interested now.
Alacrán leaned back in his chair.
“Shoot ‘em up, blow ‘em up, don’t care.”
That got a crooked smile from Severino.
“That enough action for you?” he said, not looking at him.
Severino didn’t answer right away.
Then—
“A huevo.”
Fuckin’ Aye.
Alacrán nodded once.
“Good.”
He looked around the table.
“Only condition… it can’t be in Falfurrias. So get your men ready. You’re leading this.”
Severino couldn’t wait.
THE NEST
LATER THAT MORNING
First thing Kait noticed as she rolled in was the truck.
Olive drab. Government plates. Parked off to the side like it didn’t belong there but didn’t care who thought so.
She glanced past it.
The Mare was gone.
Good.
She was still hungover so Kolton being there would be a real bad thing.
Kait swung off the bike, pushing her braid back as she started toward the courtyard.
Infected by Bad Religion was playing overhead.
Voices carried before she even stepped in.
Louder than usual.
Different.
Laughter.
She rounded the corner—
—and found them.
Four guys by the pool. Perfect haircuts, posture straight even as they were kicking a hacky sack around. Cammies. Boots. Active duty.
Marines.
One of them spotted her first.
Hacky sack landed flat on the concrete.
“Oh, my god—who the hell is that?”
Heads turned.
Then it started.
Whistles. Low calls. Zero hesitation.
“Goddamn—”
“Hey, sexy—”
“Yo, wait. Where you goin’”
Kait didn’t break stride.
Didn’t speed up. Didn’t slow down.
Just walked through it like it wasn’t for her.
The double doors pushed open.
Lane stepped out.
He took one look at the courtyard—
at them—
then at her.
Didn’t raise his voice.
Didn’t need to.
“Gentlemen, please…” he said.
The Marines eased up, but they weren’t done grinning.
Kait reached the bottom of the staircase and stopped, glancing over her shoulder toward him.
“Friends of yours?”
Lane walked out a few steps into the courtyard.
“Can’t get rid of them.”
A sigh.
“Their last tour did things to their brain. Please bear with them.”
A couple of the Marines laughed at that.
“Fuck you, Westfall,” one of them shot back.
“Well, if they’re hungry. I think Kyle left his box of crayons in the TV room.”
Lane made a face.
“Ouch…”
Kait smirked faintly, then turned toward the stairs.
Behind her—
“Hey, for real though—who is she?”
“How do you forget to mention something like that, Westfall. Damn,” said another.
Lane didn’t answer right away.
Watched Kait start up the steps.
Calm. Unbothered.
Kutte shifting slightly with her movement.
Full patch.
That’s when it clicked for them.
“Oh—shit. She’s Krait for real?” said one of them.
“No way…”
Lane nodded once, like that explained everything.
“Good thing she was a hundred yards out,” he said. “Last guy who catcalled her… she dropped him in two moves.”
“Bullshit.”
Lane joined them.
“Two.”
Silence for a beat.
Then low laughter.
Kait reached the top of the stairs.
Didn’t turn around.
Didn’t react.
Just pushed her door open—
and shut it behind her.
The Dirty Alley was already alive—and in full Halloween mode—by the time Kait walked in.
Jojo was on stage in full leopard print, dressed like Scary Spice. Spice Up Your Life thumped through the walls, neon bleeding across the bar as she moved under the lights like it was just another night.
And to Kait, it was.
She moved through the floor without stopping, eyes scanning out of habit more than effort. Nothing out of place. Same faces. Same noise.
Work.
Sunshine caught her first—big blonde hair, red one-piece bathing suit. Easiest costume in the room to guess.
“If you need a place to crash, just come over to my place next time. She will not shut up about it,” she said, leaning against the bar with a drink in hand.
“Jesus,” Kait muttered, sliding behind the bar. “Yeah, last night sucked. That was the first thing I thought of.”
“Here,” Sunshine said, already scribbling on the back of a flyer. “That’s my address. You’ll actually be able to sleep there.”
Kait chuckled. “Hey, say what you want, but I needed that. And… she’s pretty good.”
“Yeah,” Sunshine said dryly. “I know.”
They both laughed.
Peaches slid in next, already smiling.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” Kait said, waving it off. Then, eyeing her outfit. “School girl?”
Peaches put a foot down hard. “No—Cher. From Clueless?”
Kait shrugged.
“The movie? As if?” Said Peaches trying again.
Kait blinked. “Huh?”
Sunshine snorted. “No one here’s gonna get it, Peaches. Not here. So, just give it up.”
Peaches crossed her arms, deflated.
Dulce appeared behind them, dressed like a sparkly pink butterfly princess, and wrapped her arms around Kait.
“Hi, baby,” she said, squeezing her.
“If you get glitter on my kutte, we’re gonna have problems.”
“Oops,” Dulce said, pulling back with a childish smile and tried to brush off whatever may or may not have gotten stuck on her kutte.
Kait leaned one forearm on the bar.
“I’m leaving early tonight. Club stuff. I’ll be out by like ten-thirty.”
Kait got to the chapel early.
Earlier than she needed to.
The room was empty except for the low hum of the lights and the long table sitting still in the middle of it.
She took her usual spot.
One by one, they started coming in.
Boots stomping on the metal stairs on their way up. Low voices. All saying hi to her as they walked in. Chairs dragging across the floor. Cigarettes being lit up, drinks being set down. The usual church setup.
She felt it when Kolton walked in.
The shift.
The weight of it.
He took his usual seat next to her.
Didn’t say anything.
Lane came in a minute later right behind Don.
Don didn’t have much to say other than routine stuff and gave the floor to Lane for the run and Alley assignments.
Kait couldn’t help but notice how Lane belonged at the head of that table. It was just a matter of time for him to be in Don’s spot.
Once Lane spoke, he became the head of the table. A natural leader through and through.
“Kolton. Diablo. Buster. Mack—you’re riding to Roma. Kolton’s on lead.”
Kolton didn’t move.
“Wheels up at six p.m. sharp. You’re loaded before then.”
Lane’s eyes moved down the table.
“Dirty Alley. Amateur Night security.”
A few small shifts in seats.
“Yeah, baby!” said Ram.
“Ram, of course.”
“Eso!” he said.
Kode chuckled.
“Blaze, you down?”
“Yeah, man.”
Lane continued
“Kode.”
Kode clicked his tongue and shook his head.
“Got some cosigners coming in to town late for a big bond I’ve been working on all week. Can’t missout on the commission.”
“Alright, I’ll do it this year, and of course Lokken so the girls don’t bitch.”
Kait raised and eyebrow.
Ram made a face.
“No mames, Kount… There goes my fun.”
“It’s to keep my eye on you,” said Lane.
After that, Randy gave a Snake Eyes report and said he found new ways to advertise.
It should’ve ended there.
But Kait remembered the money and reached into her kutte.
Pulled out an envelope.
Set it on the table and slid it over to Don.
“Pres. Here’s two grand,” she said. “To fill up that safe again.”
A few heads turned.
Randy looked up.
Slow.
“Toast, no. That’s my job—” he started. “I’m working to pay that back. You don’t gotta—”
“I don’t need it right now,” Kait said.
Didn’t look at him.
Just pushed the envelope farther in.
“I just didn’t want to forget. I’ve been carrying it all day.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Randy’s jaw tightened. He nodded once, small, eyes dropping back to the table.
Didn’t argue again.
Lane watched her.
Didn’t say anything.
But something in his expression shifted.
Just a fraction.
Don reached out, pulled the envelope the rest of the way.
He nodded at her.
He tapped the envelope on the table twice.
“Anything else?”
A chair creaked slightly.
“Yep.”
Blaze stood up.
Reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack.
Set it on the table.
“Twenty-five hundred more,” he said. “Won five at the rodeo. Had to catch up on some bills—this is what’s left.”
Randy looked up at him.
“Son—keep your money. I’ll pay it back.”
Blaze didn’t even look at him when he said it.
“I ain’t your son right now.”
That landed.
He finally looked over.
“But this patch and this ink means you’re still my brother.”
The entire table felt that.
“Your fuck up is my fuck up.”
He pushed the money over to Don to his right.
“So there.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Blaze sat back down like nothing happened.
“I got a couple of big repairs coming up. Just waiting on some parts,” said Mack.
“Halloween night kicks off the Pit, so there’s going to be money coming in from the fights too,” Kode said.
Few nods
“Anyone else?” he asked.
Nobody spoke.
Don nodded once.
“Alright. Get.”
Church broke and the room loosened into noise again.
Bootsteps. Low voices. Movement toward the door.
Kait got up… and Kolton was staring right at her.
“Baby—”
Kait turned to her right and moved farther into the room, past the Judge’s tank, over to Klaus.
When she looked back up, Kolton was gone.
“Hey, Dødsstraf.”
“Hey,” she said, pulling out a chair. “Teach me that shit.”
Klaus blew a raspberry, dragging a stack of papers toward him.
“Yeah right,” he muttered. “Give it five minutes, you’ll hate it.”
“Try me.”
Klaus walked her through it quick.
Not a lecture.
Just pointing things out—what came in, what went out, what was supposed to match and what didn’t. Mortgage, bills, taxes, food, alcohol, fuel, parts, payouts, side money, dues, permits, licenses. Where things lined up. Where they slipped.
Kait followed.
She didn’t rush things or pretend she fully understood everything. She just tracked it.
Patterns first, then the gaps.
By the time he stopped talking, she was already moving through the pages on her own.
Klaus watched her for a second.
“Good,” he said quietly.
Kait flipped one more page but her brain had changed the subject.
“So, Fucking Timo. I wonder what’s going on.”
Klaus leaned back slightly.
“Ja.”
Kait’s eyes moved across the numbers again.
“That’s just not like him.”
“Who knows?” Klaus shook his head. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
She leaned back in her chair.
A beat.
Kait glanced up.
“You talk to Ulver?”
Klaus nodded.
“Oslo is fine. Charter-wise. The city, not so much. Lots of immigrants changing a lot of shit. Same happening in Stockholm. Lots of new gangs, as far as Skar was telling me.”
Kait frowned.
“Well… if you end up going, maybe I can come with.”
Klaus tilted his head.
“You missing your fellow Vikings or what?”
“Nah.”
“No? Not even him?”
“I haven’t even thought of him.”
Klaus studied her for a second.
“How come?”
The door opened in front of them.
Bootsteps.
Measured.
Klaus nodded.
“Hey.”
Kait didn’t look up right away.
She didn’t have to.
Lane.
The door closed behind him.
Lane curved his lips slightly, raising his brows.
“Still at it?”
He moved past the table, straight for the Judge.
Klaus stood, already gathering his things.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “And actually, I’m gonna call it a night, Dødsstraf.”
Lane gave a small nod.
“It is quite a bit,” Kait said, but didn’t move.
Klaus hummed, not convinced.
“Alright, kids. Have a good night.”
Then he was gone.
The door shut.
Quiet settled in again.
Just the hum of the lights.
The faint shift of the Judge inside the tank.
Lane worked without looking at her.
Same as always.
Measured. Controlled. No wasted movement.
Kait watched him for a second.
Then looked back down at the papers the moment his head turned even slightly toward her.
She wasn’t reading anything.
Just gave herself something to look at.
A minute passed.
Then—
Kait exhaled quietly, glancing at the papers she wasn’t reading. Finally, she pushed her chair back.
Lane glanced at her. She was coming his way.
“I meant to tell you earlier,” she began, stopping in front of the tank. “But with everything going on, I forgot. I can help you with the Judge, if you want. If you go on a run or don’t feel like it or whatever.”
Lane turned slightly, one brow rising, though his expression stayed neutral.
“Really? I figured you wouldn’t want anything to do with him after what happened.”
She shrugged.
“It wasn’t really his fault.”
Lane’s eyes flickered with something subtle.
“But he bit you.”
“Because I provoked him,” she said simply, meeting his gaze.
A sharp sound against the glass.
Both of them looked at the same time.
The Judge shifted inside the tank, scales brushing hard against the glass.
“He probably remembers the last time we were here alone,” Kait said.
“I hope not. I wish I didn’t.”
Lane paused, then gave the slightest nod. “But sure, yeah, you can help.”
The Judge shifted again.
Lane turned immediately, stepping back toward the enclosure.
Everything back in place.
Routine.
Kait watched him for a second then looked down at the Judge.
Then back up.
“Okay. Let me know. Goodnight.”
She stepped past him.
“Hey, Lokken.”
Kait stopped.
Turned, still a step away.
“Sorry again about my guys earlier. They’ll know better next time.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“They’re harmless.”
“I figured.”
A small pause.
Lane tilted his head slightly.
“You know you got glitter on your face?”
Kait sighed.
“Is it pink?” she asked, rubbing her cheek against her shoulder.
“Very,” Lane said, a faint smile pulling at his mouth. “And you just made it worse.”
Kait glanced down at her shoulder, catching the shimmer.
“Fucking Dulce,” she muttered.
Lane grabbed a paper towel and handed it to her.
Kait tried to use the tank as a mirror, but the glass didn’t give her much.
“Here,” Lane said.
He stepped in.
Took the paper towel back from her.
His other hand came up—slow, deliberate—resting lightly along her jaw to steady her.
He was careful.
Too careful.
Kait stilled.
Didn’t pull away.
Didn’t lean in either.
Just… stayed.
Her eyes dropped.
Anywhere but him.
Lane leaned in just enough to see what he was doing, thumb brushing faintly against her skin as he wiped.
“That is not coming off,” he said, a quiet chuckle in his voice.
“It’s okay,” Kait said, reaching for the paper towel—but he didn’t let go.
Not yet.
Now his hand was fully at her jaw.
Holding her.
Not tight.
Just enough.
Kait finally looked up.
And that was it.
No words.
Close enough to feel it.
The hum of the lights.
The faint shift of the Judge behind them.
Lane’s jaw tightened slightly.
Kait didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Lane looked at her lips.
Then—
Footsteps.
Out in the walkway.
Passing by.
Both of them heard it.
Kait pulled back first.
Lane let go immediately.
The space snapped open between them.
Kait stepped back.
“I’ll just wash it off.”
Lane didn’t answer.
Still watching her.
“Let me know whenever you need help with him,” she added, voice steadier now.
A beat.
“Sure,” he said finally. “Goodnight.”
Kait nodded once.
Then turned and walked out.
Kait stepped out of the chapel and let the door fall shut behind her.
The quiet hit different out here.
Cooler. Thinner.
She walked a few steps down the walkway then slowed.
She stopped and turned her head slightly and looked back at the chapel door.
Her eyes lingered there a second longer than they should have.
The door was still closed.
She exhaled through her nose.
Shook it off.
Started walking again.
Bootsteps softer now as she reached her door.
She reached for the handle.
Paused.
Just for a second.
Like her body was waiting for her brain to catch up.
It didn’t.
Lane’s touch.
His voice.
His breath.
The way he looked at her—
She swallowed.
She pushed the door open.
Didn’t turn the light on.
Didn’t care about the glitter anymore.
The room was dark, familiar enough to move through without thinking.
She stepped inside, shut the door behind her.
Dropped her kutte over the chair.
Boots came off next—one, then the other—kicked aside without looking.
Her mind was still back in the chapel.
Replaying it.
Over and over.
Did that just happen?
What just happened?
She shook her head.
She began to undo her braid.
Didn’t notice anything.
Didn’t hear anything.
Just—
Trying to make sense of something she wasn’t ready to name yet.
She took a step deeper into the room—
—and froze.
A shape by the wall.
Not a shadow.
Breathing.
Kait’s head snapped toward it.
“Kol—”
He moved.
Fast.
Closed the distance and grabbed her, momentum carrying both of them back onto the bed.
The frame hit the wall with a dull thud.
Kait reacted on instinct.
Hands up, turning her shoulder, trying to slip out from under him—
“Hey—hey—” Kolton’s voice, low and rough, breath hot against her neck. “You’re not gonna keep ignoring me like that—”
“Kolton, stop.”
He didn’t.
Hands everywhere, pulling, trying to keep her there.
“I want you so fucking bad,” he said, words tumbling over each other. “I miss you, baby—”
Kait twisted her hips, creating space, bracing her forearm against his chest.
“Get off me. No.”
He pressed her down into the mattress, weight pinning her as he kissed along her jaw—desperate, messy.
“Stop fucking doing that—Kait—”
“Not like this, Kolton, this ain’t you. You’re gonna regret it forever if you go through with it.”
“I fucking want you.”
“Get off.”
Sharp.
Clear.
Kait shifted under him, twisting her hips, creating just enough space to move.
She hooked her leg under his—
broke his balance—
and used it.
Turned, drove him off-center, and shoved.
Hard.
Kolton slipped off the bed, stumbling back a step before catching himself on the edge.
Kait was already up.
Distance.
Between them.
Breathing steady again.
Eyes locked on him.
“Don’t,” she said.
Not loud.
Not angry.
Just final.
Kolton stared at her, chest rising, something wild still sitting behind his eyes—but checked now.
Held.
For a second.
Two.
Kait didn’t move.
Didn’t soften.
Didn’t step closer.
He looked away first.
Ran a hand through his hair, pacing once, frustrated energy bleeding off.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
Silence stretched.
Heavy.
Kait reached for the door.
Opened it.
The frame hit the wall with a dull thud.
Kait reacted on instinct.
Hands up, turning her shoulder, trying to slip out from under him—
“Hey—hey—” Kolton’s voice, low and rough, breath hot against her neck. “You’re not gonna keep ignoring me like that—”
“Kolton, stop.”
He didn’t.
Hands everywhere, pulling, trying to keep her there.
“I want you so fucking bad,” he said, words tumbling over each other. “I miss you, baby—”
Kait twisted her hips, creating space, bracing her forearm against his chest.
“Get off me. No.”
He pressed her down into the mattress, weight pinning her as he kissed along her jaw—desperate, messy.
“Stop fucking doing that—Kait—”
“Not like this, Kolton, this ain’t you. You’re gonna regret it forever if you go through with it.”
“I fucking want you.”
“Get off.”
Sharp.
Clear.
Kait shifted under him, twisting her hips, creating just enough space to move.
She hooked her leg under his—
broke his balance—
and used it.
Turned, drove him off-center, and shoved.
Hard.
Kolton slipped off the bed, stumbling back a step before catching himself on the edge.
Kait was already up.
Distance.
Between them.
Breathing steady again.
Eyes locked on him.
“Don’t,” she said.
Not loud.
Not angry.
Just final.
Kolton stared at her, chest rising, something wild still sitting behind his eyes—but checked now.
Held.
For a second.
Two.
Kait didn’t move.
Didn’t soften.
Didn’t step closer.
He looked away first.
Ran a hand through his hair, pacing once, frustrated energy bleeding off.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
Silence stretched.
Heavy.
Kait reached for the door.
Opened it.
Lane was leaning against the railing outside his room, cigarette burning low between his fingers, eyes on nothing.
Then Kait’s door opened violently.
“Get the fuck out.”
Kait’s voice.
Low.
Tight.
Not loud.
But wrong.
Lane’s head turned.
Kolton stepped out of her room.
Fast.
Too fast.
Not looking back.
Kait stood in the doorway.
No pants.
Breathing hard.
She wasn’t wearing her kutte and the collar of her shirt was stretched out.
She took a quick glance at him.
Then she slammed the door shut.
The lock clicked.
Lane threw his cigarette behind him and went after Kolton.
By the time Kolton hit the lot, Lane was already on him.
He grabbed him from behind—
spun him and grabbed him by his kutte.
“What the fuck did you do?”
Then drove him hard into the mural.
The painted Krait snake loomed over them.
Kolton barely had time to react.
“What the fuck—”
Lane hit him.
Not wild.
Not sloppy.
One clean shot.
Straight to the jaw.
Kolton’s head snapped to the side.
He stumbled—
caught himself—
eyes flashing now.
“What the fuck, man—”
Lane grabbed him again.
Shoved him back into the wall.
Harder.
“What did you do.”
Not a question.
Flat.
Cold.
Kolton shook his head, breathing heavy.
“Nothing—”
Lane slammed him again.
The wall cracked behind his shoulder.
Dead serious.
“What did you try to do to her, then?”
Kolton pushed back this time.
Anger breaking through.
“Nothin—”
Lane stepped in closer.
No space now.
No room to move.
“Did you hurt her?”
“No! Fuck, Kount!”
Lane’s eyes didn’t leave his.
“What’s it to ya, man. She’s my girl.”
“She ain’t your girl, she ain’t never was your girl.”
Kolton spat blood to the side.
“You ever go into her room like that or try to force yourself on her again—”
Quiet.
Dangerous.
“I will fucking kill you.”
No yelling.
No emotion.
Just fact.
Kolton stared at him.
Jaw tight.
Breathing hard.
Whatever fight was in him stalled.
Lane held him there another second—
Then let go.
Kolton didn’t say anything.
Just shoved off the wall and headed to his bike.
Lane watched him get on and go.
