JAXSON.
The whiskey burned as it went down, but I welcomed it. Nights like this demanded fire in my throat. Ryder sat across from me in the garden, cigar smoke curling up into the night sky.
“Damien’s crew won’t back down easy,” Ryder said, rolling the cigar between his fingers. “If we push, they’ll push harder. A rematch isn’t just a fight, it’s a f*****g war.”
I leaned back, boots stretched out on the gravel, glass dangling from my hand. “Then we end it in one night. Hit them where it hurts. No drawn-out bullshit.”
Ryder smirked, smoke trailing from his lips. “You’re itching for blood.”
“Always.”
Before I could pour another drink, footsteps crunched on the stone. Cole strolled in, pissed off already, his phone clutched in his hand. His face told me he wasn’t here to drink.
“You w
