Page 3 of The Ashes of Summer

The words leave me without hesitation. Without thought. Because there is no version of this story where I stop.

His eyes flicker slightly. “You’ll need an army.”

Most people would hear that as a warning. A reason to reconsider. A reason to walk away. I hear something else entirely. A challenge. A list of obstacles standing between me and Summer.

A problem.

And problems can be solved. A slow, cold sound leaves me as I lift my eyes to meet his.

“Then I’ll fucking build one.”

The old man's face drains of what little color it had left. Maybe he finally understands that I'm serious. Maybe he understands that every man Jackson has hidden behind, every wall he's built, every favor he's called in, every piece of protection he's wrapped around himself means absolutely nothing to me.

Because Summer is there and that's all that matters.

I take my cell back from his trembling hands and stare down at the location one last time, committing every detail to memory. To anyone else, it looks like wasteland. Empty land in the middle of nowhere. But I know better now.

That's Rivers Ridge. That's where she's being taken. That's where I’ll go. I slide the phone back into my pocket and holster my weapon before turning toward the door.

“Sir—” His voice breaks behind me. The sound stops me.

“Please...” His words are barely holding together now. “Please set my daughter free.”

For the first time since he walked into the room, I hear no fear for himself. Only fear for her. I close my eyes briefly. My hand tightens into a fist.

“First, I get Summer back. Then I bring every woman trapped inside his fucking empire home.”

The words come out rougher than I intend. Then I walk away. Because promises won't save his daughter. And they sure as hell won't save Summer.

Only what comes next will.

By the time I hit the stairs, the others look up and watch me descend. This isn’t procedure. This isn’t law. The badge on my belt means nothing right now. This is something older. Something simpler. Violence with a purpose.

I look down at my hand. Blood dried into my knuckles. Her hair still caught between my fingers. I don’t let go.

I won’t.

Not until I have her back in my arms.

“With me,” I say, voice low, steady.

My men move to follow without question, falling in behind me like they always do when I need them. And God, I need them now more than ever.

I take one last look at the house. At everything it tried to hide. At everything it failed to keep. We head to the exit and step out onto the driveway. I look up to the sky to see the stars struggling to shine behind the fog.

The night stretches out before me in shades of silver and gold. Lights glow in the distance, scattered across the landscape like fallen stars. Crickets hum from the grass. The wind moves lazily through the trees, whispering through the branches. Everything is calm. Beautiful even, like the kind of place a child would dream about. A hidden corner of the world untouched by cruelty. Untouched by men like Jackson Moore.

But I know better.

“This isn’t a fairytale.”

The words settle into the night. My eyes find the horizon automatically, drawn to the patch of sky where she disappeared. Where I lost her.

“It’s a reckoning.”

Chapter 2

The Monster Wins