Page 92 of Dark Reunion

CHAPTER 34

DEAN

The courtyard still smoked, and the place resembled some of the worst war-torn areas Dean had ever been to. Through the shattered doorway, Dean limped down the last step, every muscle in his body screaming. But he was upright and alive, and that was enough. Sunlight hit his face, too bright after so long in the dark. He squinted, half-smiling through the ache.

Ash floated in lazy spirals, catching the first light of morning, and every breath Dean took tasted like burned fuel and dirt. The hacienda was half-collapsed behind him, its roof torn open, its windows nothing but gaping mouths.

He glanced up at the wreckage. There was a deep satisfaction that accompanied the devastation. Like his mother had finally been avenged. Like the girl he was forced to assault and then kill was avenged. Like all the ghosts of those his father had brutally murdered could finally rest in peace. The little boy who had been beaten almost daily smiled.

Dean looked at the small group that had come to save him. Trev stood in the front, gun strapped over his shoulder, his finger still resting on the trigger, just in case. He took a step forward, the serious smile he wore breaking ever so slightly.

Morry was grinning from ear to ear as she ran at him. Just like old times, she leaped on him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You son of a bitch, I should kill you for making us all worry,” she said, making him laugh as he held her back.

“I missed you too.” He closed his eyes, relief finally washing over him. Morry hopped down and wiped away the tears running down her cheeks, then punched him hard in the arm.

“That’s for making me cry, asshole,” she said, and everyone chuckled.

Trev approached, shouldering his firearms. Their handshake was firm, brief, and said everything that mattered. Mutual respect, relief, and the unspoken promise that they’d always walk through hell together.

“It is good to see you alive, my friend,” Trev said.

“Took you fuckers long enough to figure it out,” Dean joked.

Morry huffed a laugh. “We had to stop for snacks.”

“Next time don’t send riddles, I hate riddles,” Arek grumbled around the toothpick hanging out of his mouth.

“Hopefully, there is not going to be a next time.”

“Amen to that, I’m getting too old for this shit,” Kes complained.

For just a moment, it felt like old times, then he looked down and remembered what they’d all lost.

Keene knelt in the dirt, his hands bound, jaw tight, face streaked with blood and dust. The swagger was gone, but the arrogance clung like a stain he couldn’t wash off.

“You think this changes anything?” he rasped. “You think killing me or even Carlos stops what is in motion? Cut off one head, another grows.”

The group went quiet. The only sound was the crackle of a fire eating the last of the roof.

Trev looked down at him, eyes cold as steel. “What do you think we should do with him, Dean?”

Dean’s jaw flexed as he held out his hand to Trev. Dean didn’t need to ask for Trev to pass him his sidearm.

Keene laughed. “Go ahead. Be like me. End it here. You’ll see how easy it is to become what you hate.”

Dean crouched, eyes level with him. “You really think we’re the same?”

Keene’s grin wavered.

“You sell fear,” Dean said, voice low. “I bury it. You burn everything for power and money. I burn it so no one like you crawls out again. Whatever part you played in getting our friends killed is blood on your conscious, and I’m sure that the Devil will be happy to have you home. Me…well, I may end up there sooner or later, but before I do, I’m going to take out as many of you as possible.”

Keene’s mouth opened, but Dean didn’t give him the satisfaction of finishing. “This is for every soldier you used. For every name on your list. For everyone you thought you owned.”

Dean slowly stood. The morning light caught the gun in his hand, the metal flaring gold for a moment before the final verdict cracked through the air. The echo rolled across the courtyard and vanished into the surrounding dirt.

No one spoke. No one cheered. It wasn’t a celebration. It was the sound of a weight finally leaving the world. Dean lowered the gun and handed it back to Trev.