Page 3 of Cross’s Reckoning

"A man betrays the brothers he's ridden beside for half his life, and Cyrus rewards him for it. Gives him colors and calls him useful."

"Kingdom Come changed."

"That's Chains's excuse."

"It's true."

"Maybe it is. Doesn't make what he did loyalty."

I fold my arms. "You don't know what was happening inside that club."

"Neither does Chains anymore. Didn't stop him selling everything he knew about it the second Cyrus offered him somewhere to land."

"You're doing the same thing."

Something in Cross's face changes. It's slight enough that anyone else might miss it, but I've spent too long studying a man I claim not to care about.

"Am I?"

"You're walking out."

"I'm leaving my patches on the table. I'm not taking Perdition's business with me."

"You expect me to believe you're going to ride off into the sunset and open a fucking hardware store?"

"No."

"Then where are you going?"

He watches me long enough that I already know I'm going to hate the answer.

"Kingdom Come."

I laugh because the alternative is shouting. "Kane is going to shoot you."

"Maybe."

"You were fighting his men yesterday."

"I remember."

"And today you're riding up to his gates to what? Ask if he has a spare room?"

"I'm asking for five minutes."

"That's your plan?"

"Pretty much."

I shake my head. "That's not a plan. That's a suicide note with a motorcycle."

The corner of his mouth moves, and I hate the ridiculous urge I have to look at it. Cross slides the cut back over his shoulders. The leather settles into place with nothing on the back now, only faint impressions where the patches were stitched for years.

"Why?" I ask.

This time there isn't any amusement in his face. "Because Cyrus isn't running a club anymore. He's running a grudge."

"You don't know what you're talking about."