Page 64 of Crusher's Illusion

“Where’s Niko?” I ask her, loading another round in my pistol.

Her eyes flick toward the second van. “He didn’t fight them. He led them.”

Every muscle in my body goes tight. “Stay here.”

I push up from cover and sprint toward the open van. Niko’s inside, crouched behind the driver’s seat, pistol shaking in his hand.

He sees me.

His mouth opens like he’s about to apologize, like any word is gonna change what he did.

I fire. One shot. Center mass.

He falls back against the van wall, eyes wide, blood blooming across his chest. He doesn’t reach for his gun. Doesn’t move at all.

Outside, Steel calls, “Clear!”

The silence that follows isn’t relief. Its aftermath.

I holster the gun and move back to Nevaeh. She’s trying to tug the zip-ties off herself, blood running down her cheek, hands trembling but still steady.

I drop to my knees in front of her, cutting the ties with my knife. She grabs my wrist as soon as her hands are free, hard. Like she’s afraid I’ll disappear.

“Hey,” I murmur, pushing her hair back, trying like hell to steady my own voice. “I’ve got you.”

She nods, but her eyes are bright with something that hurts to look at. Fear, yes, but trust too. Trust that wrecks me because I almost lost her.

Steel moves past us, glancing down at Niko’s body with a hard, cold expression. He doesn’t say anything. Just gives me one sharp nod.

Job done.

The brothers start loading weapons back into saddlebags, checking each other for wounds. Rock lights a cigarette with fingers that still shake. City kicks one of the van's tires with his boot and mutters something vicious under his breath.

Draft lights up a joint and passes it to Rampage and then Throttle. Steel, Hurricane, and Honor wait patiently for Nevaeh to get her bearings.

I help Nevaeh to her feet. She leans into me, silent and iron-willed as ever, but her knees shake once. I wrap my arm around her waist.

“Let’s go home,” I say. She doesn’t answer. She just presses her forehead to my shoulder and breathes.

The ride back feels nothing like the ride out. There’s no formation, no chatter on comms. Just engines growling low and steady while the sun climbs slowly over blood-stained asphalt. Nevaeh rides in front of me this time, safely in Steel’s truck with Nova driving and Caine riding shotgun. She’s still shaking, and I need her surrounded by steel and brothers while I keep the rest of the road clear.

I follow behind on my bike.

I can still feel her hands on my skin. I can still taste gunpowder in the back of my throat. I can see Niko’s face when the round hit, that flicker, like he knew he’d made the wrong choice and it was too late to undo it.

He was just a kid. But he took her, and I’d do it again.

The clubhouse rises on the horizon like a bunker, hard and ugly against the blue sky. Engines die one by one in the yard. No shouting, no post-battle rush this time. Just boots hitting gravel and shoulders dropping like the weight finally caught up to them.

Caine climbs out of the truck first, opens the passenger door for Nevaeh without a word. She steps down, blood dried on her hairline, dirt on her knees, but her chin is held high.

The brothers see her standing. See her breathing. Something loosens in the air.

Steel gives me one long look across the hood. Respect and regret are both in it. He doesn’t say Niko’s name. Doesn’t have to.

We file inside the clubhouse, and it’s dead quiet. Before I can usher Nevaeh to my room, Rampage steps forward, puts a steaming mug of coffee on the bar in front of her, then walks away without a single joke. For a second, Nevaeh stares at it, like she doesn’t remember what it’s for. Then, she grabs it with shaking hands and keeps walking toward the back.

City holds the door to the hall open, but he keeps watch over the room the entire time, eyes hard, with his knife still in hand.