Give Me Grace (Devil's Right Hand MC #5)

Chapter 9

A/N: Hey babes! Thank you so much for the love you've given this book so far. One thousand reads with less than 10 chapters is INSANE! I'm so sorry I went MIA for a little while. My seasonal depression hit early this year and was HORRIBLE for like a month so I focused on myself for a little bit. But the Prozac has kicked in and I'm backkkkkk!

As a thank you for sticking with me, I released the order of main characters for all TEN books in this series on my page. But I figured I would post the list here as well. So without further ado, here is the FINAL order of my DRH series. We are officially half way to the finish line, babes!

1. Wolf & Clove
2. Driver & Brenna
3. Axe & Gabby
4. Skillet & Chrissy
5. Blade & Grace
6. Smoke & Anna Kate
7. Crow & Brighton
8. Gunner & ___
9. Bullet & ——
10. Bear & ——-

I may publish a prequel novella after the series from Grease and Amber's perspective before book 1. I haven't forgotten about them, but I'm a little undecided on if I want to dedicate a novella to them or not. Opinions are welcome on that!

Blade's POV 
Present Day, August 15th, 2022

The first lesson Razor taught me about leadership was simple. It was something so trivial I almost laughed at the build up. At the time it was the easiest part of the job, but now, in the middle of this fucking fire, following his advice is the hardest thing I've ever done.

His voice still rings in my head as clear as the day he said it. "Always make them think you're in control, boy, even when you're not." 

For one, I thought I would always be in control. I couldn't fathom a time when an external factor would control me or my decisions for the club. But, I didn't account for the internal factors. The need for a father to protect his daughter. The need for a man to protect underage or abused girls that he'll never meet. The need for a man to fix his wife's mistakes. The need to make sure something good comes out of all this pain.

Fuck, when I think about it, I've never really had total control. The second I saw those ocean blue eyes control was never fully mine. It was something we had together. Anything she needed, I didn't have the willpower to say no. In reality, I've been at her mercy for twenty years. But this time, she didn't just take a piece of my control, she shattered it, scattering it all over my fucking mind and leaving me searching for fragments of the leader I once was.

Searching for the man I was before I became a father.
The man who was so sure nothing could ever stop him from loving his wife.
The man who still had faith in the system he helped create.

So now I'm left clinging to the one thing I can control: perception.

Shit is about to get hairy in every aspect of the word. War is on the horizon, and with every tick of the clock and death of a potential lead with no new information, the risk that Riccardo will strike first heightens. The man is a coward, but we are coming after his organization. We are coming for his fucking throat and he knows it. At the very least, he needs to uphold the perception of his reputation. If other gangs gets a wiff of his cowardice, it'll be like blood in shark infested waters.

And as much as I want that fucker going down I want to be the one to bring him there. I want to drag him to hell myself. I may not have had control over the actions that brought us here, but I will damn well have control over the outcome.

I will control Riccardo's outcome.

Maybe that's irrational. Maybe I am putting my boys at risk for nothing when we could simply let the trash take itself out, but this primal need to protect what's mine overshadows everything, even logic.