Page 11 of Saint’s Revenge

Standing there like a king surveying his fallen kingdom.

Blood on his hands. Blood on his shirt. Probably Riley's blood. Something cold and sharp slides through my chest. Not rage, that would be too hot, too alive. This is colder. The kind of cold that doesn't burn. Just freezes everything solid.

"There you are," Daniel says. He's smiling. "I was starting to think you'd send your little brothers to do your work for you."

Judge glances at me. Raises an eyebrow. I shake my head slightly. *This one's mine.*

I start walking toward the stairs. Slowly. Gun in my hand, safety off, one round in the chamber.

"She’s an idiot, you know that?" Daniel calls down. Still smiling. Still standing there like he's untouchable. "She called you. This morning. Gave you our location, and she really thought I wouldn't figure it out."

I reach the base of the stairs. Start climbing. One step at a time.

"I beat the shit out of her for that," he continues, conversational. Like he's telling me about the weather. "Left her up here to rot. Figured anyone shows up, they could watch her die before I killed them too. I should’ve known it would be you."

I'm halfway up the stairs now. Can see his face clearly. See the resemblance that used to be there when we were kids: same jaw, same eyes, same mouth. But everything behind the features is different. Hollow. Dead.

"Nothing to say?" Daniel tilts his head. "You always had something to say, Lucas. Always had an opinion about what I should do. How I should run things. How I wasn't being careful enough."

I reach the top of the stairs. Ten feet between us now.

"That's why you left, right?" His voice drops lower. Harder. "Because you couldn't stand watching me do what needed to be done. Couldn't stand getting your hands dirty."

"I left," I say, "because you stopped being my brother and started being something else."

"I became what we needed to survive."

"You became a fucking monster."

His smile disappears. Something flickers in his eyes, maybe hurt, maybe rage, hard to tell the difference anymore. "You don't get to leave for five years and come back to judge me."

"I'm not judging you." I raise the gun. Point it at his chest. "I'm ending you."

For a second, just one second, I see something in his face that looks like the kid he used to be. The one who protected me from our father's fists. The one who made sure I ate when there was barely enough food. The one who taught me how to fight, how to survive, how to not let the world break me.

Then it's gone.

"You won't do it," he says. "You don't have it in you. You never did."

"You beat Riley until her ribs cracked," I say. My voice is steady. Calm. The same voice I used to use with patients who were dying. "Left her on the floor like garbage. For what? For calling me? For trying to stop you from getting yourself killed?"

"She betrayed me."

"She tried to save you." I take a step forward. "She tried to end this before it got worse. Before you killed more of your own men. Before you destroyed what was left of the Vipers completely. She was trying to give you an out."

Daniel laughs. It's harsh. Bitter. Nothing like the laugh I remember from when we were kids. "I don't need an out. I need loyalty. I need people who understand that we're at war."

"The war's over, Daniel. You lost. Your club's dead. Your men scattered. You're standing in an empty warehouse with nothing left."

"You think I wanted this?" Daniel's voice cracks slightly. "You think I wanted to become this? I did what I had to do. I made the hard choices you were too weak to make."

"You killed people who trusted you."

"I eliminated threats."

"You beat a woman who loved you."

"I disciplined a traitor."