his dark obsession

plan. set. bomb

Walking toward the graves, I glance over at Angel. "You don't have to be here for this. You can wait in the truck if you want."

Shaking her dark curly hair from her eyes, she looks up at me, her voice steady and sure. "No, I want to be here. Jigsaw was your brother, which makes him family. Yours and now mine as well. We share this loss together, Vladimir."

Her words give me a strength I didn't know I needed. I look down at Jigsaw's headstone, simple and unadorned, his life condensed to two dates. Beside his, I see Groundwire, another Ace who had fallen a few years back. Brothers in life, and now in eternity, if there is one. Will I join them one day?

I used to think that when I finally died, I wouldn't be repenting for the shit I've done. I'm not sorry for any of it; I fucking enjoyed every second of chaos I caused. But what happens after I die has started to gnaw at me. What happens to Angelmarie? No doubt, she'd burn down everything in her path and go down in a blaze of glory, but how long before that thought becomes a reality?

Vasily steps up beside me, his voice low and solemn. "How did Jigsaw get this spot?"

I motion around us, taking in the shaded trees and the nearby lake. "It's nice, I guess. But there's a lot of unused land around these two plots."

Vasily shrugs, looking around. "I bought it about three years back when Groundwire went down. Bought out this whole section. Any plot that doesn't have a stone is ours. I wanted the crew to stay together, you know? Family and all that shit."

Even in death, brothers till the end. Aces for life.

Angelmarie chimes in, her voice laced with sarcasm. "I hope I'm getting squeezed in here with the rest of you overgrown linebackers..."

"Not anytime soon, my queen," I say, lightly kissing her temple.

Turning back to Vasily, I ask, "Besides the grave, why else am I here, little brother?"

As we both turn toward the sound of a vehicle driving up the road, I slowly slide my hand to the gun on my hip, moving just enough to put myself between Angel and the blacked-out Benz that slows as it gets closer to us.

"Expecting friends?" I ask Vasily.

"In a sense, yes. I asked him to meet us here," he grumbles quietly.

Angel starts to step up beside me, but I block her path. "Hold on, love. Need to see what we're dealing with first."

"Seriously, Vladimir, move before you piss me off. It's too early for this," she whispers, digging her nails into my side, the sting of her claws setting my blood ablaze.

"You're going to regret that, pet. Just you wait and see," I say, my eyes darkening with amusement.

Vasily chuckles, looking at us both. "Relax, you two. This one isn't dangerous in the shoot-us sense."

As the back door of the Benz opens, an older man with a golden cane steps out, his hands weathered and decorated with healed-over bruises and cuts. His beard is thick and streaked with gray. Two more men, both strapped with AR-15 assault rifles, exit the other side, putting me on high alert.

"Who is it?" I ask Vasily, my voice low and dangerous.

"Cane, president of Hell's Saints from California. He's got some news about Hector," Vasily says, smiling and rubbing his hands together.

Angel's eyes narrow as she looks at the men. "How do we know we can trust them?"

Vasily's response is immediate and firm. "Because I do. And you trust my judgment, sis."