24. 24 Blaze

A fierce, pulsing heat radiates from my abdomen, each heartbeat pounding through the stitches with a relentless ache. My head feels stuffed with cotton—like someone hollowed it out and left the rest to fog. My mouth’s bone-dry; my tongue scrapes against my teeth, rough as sandpaper.

I groan, forcing my eyes open, though they feel weighed down, reluctant to cooperate. Rubbing them does little to clear the haze. The dull throb in my skull pales next to the fiery, pulling pain in my abdomen, sharp and hot, clawing with every breath. My hand drifts down, fingers grazing over taut, swollen skin, and I find the stitches, a raw line tracing the damage Nico left behind.

My eyes snap open, memories flooding back in a rush that only deepens the throbbing in my skull. The first thing I see is Ryder sprawled out in a chair in the corner. He’s so far gone, his head’s tipped back, mouth open, fingers barely grazing the floor as he dangles off the armrest, feet propped on a stool. Dead to the world .

The faint glow of an ember flickers by the window, drawing my attention to Thorne. He’s smoking—judging by the smell—a blunt, and the scent fills my lungs like an old friend, wrapping around me with a familiar comfort. It’s not the only thing bringing back memories, either. The room itself, hell, the entire building, is steeped in the past we left behind. I swore I’d never step foot in here again, but lying here now, I can’t help but feel a twisted sense of relief that this is where they brought me.

This place was more than just a smart cover—it was home, a piece of us that, sitting here now, I realize I missed. The rush from wielding power, the thrill of always being on edge, the ego trip of knowing we owned these streets—worth every headache… until it wasn’t. Without Tori, all of it had felt hollow. We thought if we cleaned up, maybe one day she’d see us differently, that she’d come back to us by choice. But that was always a lie.

We’re still every bit the devils we were, only now we’re sharper, stronger, carrying power we could only dream of back then. Life experience doesn’t come cheap, and we’ve paid for ours ten times over. Nico’s about to learn that the Iron Triad doesn’t just disappear—it returns with a vengeance. This time, it’s bringing hell with it.

I’m coming for you, and when I do, it won’t just be for your life. I’m going to tear you to pieces before you ever even see my face.

“Did you find her?” I croak out, my tongue heavy and dry against my foaming mouth. Thorne jolts, clearly pulled from whatever dark corner his mind was brooding in. That reaction alone tells me all I need to know.

No .

“Not yet.” His fingers dig into the blunt, bending it just shy of breaking, rage simmering beneath his control. “But I swear, when we do…”

“You don’t have to finish that sentence.” I give him a hard nod, every bit as set on what’s coming. Nico has no idea of the rings of hell he’s unleashed. Even if he showed up right now, on his knees, begging for forgiveness with Tori in his hands, there’s not a chance any of us would show him mercy.

No one touches our girl but us.

“We need to go.” My hands tighten on the edge of the bed as I try—and fail—to sit up, every muscle in my abdomen screaming in protest. A groan catches in my throat, but I swallow it down, holding onto the last shreds of my pride. Pain or not, I’m not about to admit it. Not to these two. It won’t do me any good.

“You need to heal.” Thorne is at my side instantly, pressing on my shoulders, pushing me back on the small cot.

“Fuck that!” I snap loud enough to wake Sleeping Beauty in the corner. In a single beat, his eyes land on mine, a crooked grin on his face as he takes me in.

“Told you,” Ryder says to Thorne, his gaze pinned on me. “He’s going to be stubborn. After all, he’s the one who let our girl get taken.”

And there it is.

He’s not wrong, either. It’s on me. I didn’t protect her like I should have. She was supposed to be safe with me… and I failed her on every front. We’re completely in the dark about where she is, or what she’s going through right now.

My nails dig into my palms as I try to hold myself together, but the guilt just claws in deeper, leaving me raw. I glance at Ryder, his expression saying he knows exactly what’s churning inside me, which somehow makes it even worse. I’ve never been the type to ask for forgiveness, or let anyone see when I’m struggling. But right now, the weight of this is choking every breath, every thought .

“Not now, Ryder!” Thorne snaps, but there’s no heat in his voice. It’s distant, detached—as if he’s checked out from all of this.

Oh, fuck me. Thorne’s losing his grip.

“You think I don’t know that?” I bite back, ignoring Thorne as I push myself up on my elbows, fighting the pain that flares through me. “Things went to hell, but what the hell happened with you two? He wasn’t even distracted outside of that floor, and that was minimal!” My glare locks onto Ryder, my anger burning through the haze. “What happened to being the ‘best distraction?’ You didn’t do a damn thing!”

We’re seething, but it’s not really at each other. It’s the whole damn mess we’re stuck in—a mess that shouldn’t even exist. Right now, we could be at home, holding Tori, fucking her, enjoying her the way we want. Instead, we’re in this withered building, back to square fucking one, only now that we’ve had a taste of her, we know exactly what we’re missing, and every damn second she’s out there is unraveling me more.

“I don’t fucking know,” Ryder mutters, sinking back in his chair and rubbing his forehead like he’s fighting off a migraine. “It’s like he already knew.” His hand falls away, and when he meets my gaze again, the anger’s gone, replaced by something rawer—exhaustion, a bone-deep weariness that’s eating us all alive.

Exhaustion. Fury. Anxiety.

This isn’t how things were supposed to go.

“Great. Fucking great. We walked into a trap.” It isn’t something I hadn’t thought of, but with Ryder’s plan, I figured if it was a trap, Nico would be too distracted to enact it.

Now, who’s the idiot ?

You, Blaze.

Thorne exhales, long and slow, his face a mask of cool indignation as he speaks. “I’m going to find out what happened, and then we’re going to get her back.”

“How?” My mind’s a wreck, looping through it all, trying to pinpoint the moment we were discovered. When did Nico catch on? The second we got there? The second we even planned this? Too many questions rip through me, pulling me under, leaving me unable to think straight. It’s unlike me, and the realization sends me reeling—a crack in the control I never thought I’d lose.

“The Iron Triad is coming back, and we’re doing it with a vengeance.” He grips my shoulder, a steady, grounding weight, then steps out with his phone in hand. My gaze tracks his back, squared and unbreakable. He’s going to rain fire down on anyone who dares to stand in our way. Thorne’s not our moral compass right now; if anything, he’ll be the devil at our backs.

You already have a few of those.

“He’s snapped,” Ryder confirms, hands clasped over his lap in thought. But then, he leans forward, a wicked grin breaking through his usual prince-charming smirk. “And I’m fucking excited for it.”

“You’re excited that she’s been taken?” I scoff, hating how I’m trapped here, unable to even get off this damn cot.

“You know exactly what I mean, Blaze. You feel it, too.” Those blue eyes cut straight into me, reading me better than I care to admit. “The thrill of the chase—it’s that itch buried so deep, nothing scratches it until you’ve tasted blood. Tell me I’m wrong. I dare you.” He plants his feet, holding my gaze without flinching.

And he isn’t wrong. I can feel it clawing its way through me, settling back in, that familiar darkness itching for a fight. But the problem is—I’m not sure I’ll be able to shove it back down again, not even when we get Tori back. My monster doesn’t like to be caged .

“I feel it,” I admit, because lying to Ryder is worse than lying to myself. His chin dips into his chest in understanding, that wicked grin morphing into something more sinister—something calm, collected, waiting.

“Then let’s channel it,” he says, his voice steady. “But first, you need to recover. So, close your eyes and let the night owl handle the rest.” He cocks his head to the side and slides down the chair again.

I know it’s not comfortable there; it’s the worst spot to sleep in, aside from this manky, stained cot. He could easily crash in one of the many other rooms, but he chooses to stay here by my side.

It feels impossible to sleep, but when my eyes finally close, I’m thrust back into nightmares, replaying the moment Nico took her away, her screams still echoing in my mind. When I wake again, the scene has shifted. I’m no longer in the medical room, but in my old office. They must have wheeled the cot in here at some point during my nightmare-induced slumber.

I roll onto my side, well aware that trying to sit up on my own is a bad idea. Swinging my legs over the edge, I brace myself against the mattress and push up. Each step feels like a new stab to my stomach, my legs heavy and uncooperative, but I force myself to move. I need to know what’s happening.

The place is alive with familiar faces—trusted faces. They keep their heads bowed out of respect, even though I look like a complete wreck right now. I lean against the wall, sweat trickling down my forehead as I muster all my strength just to make it down the hall.

“For fuck’s sake,” Thorne's exasperated tone reaches my ears before he does. He steps in, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

The tight tic in his jaw reveals his frustration as he tries to lead me back to my office, but I dig in my feet, pulling away. “I can’t rest. Not when every time I close my eyes I see him taking her away. I can still feel the look in her eyes, the desperation she had for me to save her.”

My hands clench into fists, a simmering anger bubbling inside me for not being the man she needed. Guilt twists my stomach, coiling tight, and I can almost feel it poisoning me from the inside out. The monster within me stirs, eager to break free, wanting to erase these emotions and drown me in nothing but thoughts of righteous fury.

“We’re going to save her, but we can’t do that if you keep being stubborn about getting better first.” Thorne takes another step toward my office, aggravating me further, treating me like a child in need of guidance.

“I’m not going back in there, Thorne. I need to know what’s going on. I need to be a part of this!” I bark, my tether to sanity stretched so thin it feels ready to snap.

“You need to fucking rest before you rip your stitches open. Now, do as you’re told and get back in that bed!” Normally, Thorne would use reason, his words tempered with kindness and understanding. But the man standing in front of me is different—he’s demanding, calculated, and too focused on the bigger picture to indulge what he considers petty concerns.

“Fuck you!” I shove away from him, the sudden motion sending me crashing to the floor as he lets me fall.

“Fine. You want to roam around and make yourself worse? Be my guest! Don’t come crying to me when you’re bleeding out on the floor again!” he huffs, storming off in the direction he was headed before spotting me.

Heat surges within me, a burning wave that ignites every nerve. All I see is red—fury so intense, it snaps the last fragile piece of my composure. With a primal roar, I push against the wall and force myself back to my feet. The effort leaves me breathless, drenched in sweat, but I can’t stop.

I’m going to find Tori!

I slam the door Thorne just disappeared through wide open, the doorknob crashing into the wall hard enough to bury itself in the sheetrock. My gaze locks onto a man heavily duct-taped to a metal chair in the medical room where I had just been.

That explains why I was moved.

He’s bloodied, cut, bruised, and on the verge of breaking, his breathing so uneven, it sounds like it could stop at any second. Slowly, he lifts his swollen eyes toward me, and familiarity registers in my mind—Miles.

He’s the one who gave Ryder the information. It only makes sense that he would be working for Nico, that he would betray us. I step inside just as Ryder wipes his blade clean against a rag, his eyes never leaving the knife's edge.

“You think Nico’s someone to fear, but you forget who we are, Miles.” Ryder’s calm tone is unnerving, especially after seeing the gleam in his eyes—excited, sleek, almost as if he’d relish licking the blade clean. He sets his weapon down on the silver tray beside them, thumbing through his other options. Eventually, he picks up a pair of pliers, inspecting them with curious eyes before lowering them toward Miles’s fingernails. “Where did he take her, Miles?”

“I-I don’t-don’t know,” Miles stammers, shaking uncontrollably as cries escape after every word, desperately trying to pull his hands away from Ryder’s chosen instrument of torture.

“I can help you remember.” At some point while watching Ryder, I’ve aimlessly wandered further in, positioning myself right over his shoulder. I grab the spoon on the tray—it's not meant for this, but it’s here, and I know exactly what to use it for. Intentionally, ever so fucking slowly, I bring it to the edge of Miles’s eye, pressing against it just enough to evoke panic. “Did you know that it isn’t very hard to pop an eye out of its socket?” I ask, my voice low and steady as I watch him shake against the metal chair, his whimpers amplifying the tingle of excitement building within me. His fear is intoxicating, feeding the monster that’s been dormant, bringing me back to life. “Which eye are you willing to lose?” I push the spoon into his eye socket, feeling the way his screams reverberate through the room, a sound that’s almost music to my ears. A hum of satisfaction slips through my lips from deep in my chest. The devil is back, and he won’t be put away again.

“Stop! Stop! I’ll tell you. Just stop!” Miles writhes against the chair, struggling so hard that it tips back and crashes to the tile floor with a loud metallic bang. The sound echoes around the room, merging with his scream as he stares up at me, wide-eyed and subservient, the fear etched deep into his retinas.

“Well?” Ryder’s voice cuts through the tension, impatient as he waits for Miles to spill what he knows. “Are you going to say it or not?”

“Oregon. He took her to Oregon.” The words rush out of Miles’s mouth in a panicked torrent, almost tripping over themselves as fear colors every syllable.

“Pick his chair up,” I say, tapping Ryder on the shoulder. I know I can’t do it myself, but he doesn’t hesitate.

He looks at me for a moment, something clicking in his gaze as he realizes I’m right there with him and Thorne, ready to unleash chaos to get our girl back. With a devilish grin, he bends down and hoists Miles up with ease, the chair rattling beneath him.

“Where in Oregon? It’s a pretty big fucking place.” Thorne steps forward, his patience wearing thin. He holds himself back, but it’s clear he’s itching to finish this .

“Roseburg. It’s home base for the Niners.” Suddenly, Miles is a chatterbox, trembling in his chair, spilling secrets like they’re water from a broken dam.

“Why did he take her?” Ryder’s question cuts through the chatter, and I can feel the weight of it hanging in the air. This is crucial; if we can uncover the motive, we can use it to our advantage against Nico.

“I don’t—” Miles flinches, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, Miles. And here I thought you wanted to keep your eye.” I press the spoon against his face again, watching him jump in his chair, his instincts kicking in as he tries to evade me.

“I swear I don’t know! He never told anyone!” He shakes his head furiously, desperation clawing at his voice. “He just said it was important to all of us that he get her and take her back there. Please! You have to believe me!”

He’s freaking out; and honestly, who wouldn’t be? I can’t help but press the spoon closer to the corner of his eye, pushing in just a bit more.

“I believe you, Miles,” I admit, my voice calm and steady. “The problem is: you helped Nico take our girl, and that shit just won’t fly.”

In one swift motion, I lodge the spoon between his eyeball and its socket. I revel in the screams that erupt from him as I push deeper, feeling the satisfying pop as I finally rip his eye free. It dangles grotesquely from his face—a gruesome trophy of my resolve.

“You chose wrong, Miles.”

Leaving him there to scream, the sound reverberating in my ears, I step back, feeling the adrenaline surge through me. The crippling pain that had gnawed at me moments before is replaced with a heady rush, but I know it won’t last. It’ll come back with a vengeance, a reminder of the cost of this darkness .

I stroll casually alongside Ryder and Thorne toward Thorne’s room, the grim satisfaction lingering in the air as we prepare for whatever comes next.

“Roseburg,” Thorne mumbles, the weight of the news settling heavily on all of us.

“That's Diablo's domain.” Ryder lets the words linger, processing them as if saying it aloud might make it feel less real.

Our girl is trapped in the heart of the most feared gang's territory. Even at the edge of Oregon, we can feel the shadow of Diablo stretching across the state. The name is synonymous with danger, a warning etched into the memories of anyone who’s crossed him. But it changes nothing. Tori is our top priority, and if that means embracing the darkness ourselves and going toe-to-toe with the devil, we’ll fucking do it.

“Diablo,” I nod, fists clenched at my sides, summoning every nasty piece of information I’ve collected about this violent gang.

“We need to get to her before anything happens,” Thorne urges, pacing the floor, his lips pinched in thought.

“He's too fucked up to travel right now, and you and I aren’t enough to go back to the Niners' home base, especially in the heart of Diablo’s territory.” Ryder shakes his head, gesturing to me and my glaringly obvious injury.

“We're not waiting for this to heal; that’ll take too long.” I straighten, determination hardening my resolve. “Staple me shut so I don’t pop stitches. Keep me numb. I’ll survive.”

Thorne locks eyes with me, weighing the plan. What other choice do we have? Waiting is not an option. “I’ll call Payne,” he finally concedes, his words carrying a sense of grim approval.

“This is a bad idea, but I’m all in,” Ryder adds, shaking his head slightly in disapproval, yet clearly excited .

“Of course you are.” I manage a smirk, feeling some tension ease with the general direction we’re headed, even if it’s into the worst place imaginable. “Why don’t you go buy the supplies we need while we wait for the doc to make me travel-ready?”

“With pleasure.” Ryder practically bounces out of the room, his excitement palpable. He loves shopping for weapons and gadgets; I swear, he thinks he’s a spy on a mission.

As he leaves, I let the dread dissolve into excitement. Nico is going to die, and I’ll be the one standing over him, watching the light fade from his eyes.

Don't worry, Tori. Your monsters are coming for you.