Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Eleanor Ashby became obsessed with Legion Kane the day he was born. The evidence is in the vault—thousands of photos spanning two decades, all bound up in a book with his name on it.
Savannah has to face the facts. The Ashbys don’t protect people. They devour innocence and call it charity. Even Colt—the one she thought was the good brother—proves it.
The Badlands MC don’t even know the meaning of the word charity.
Everything is earned. Every act of kindness comes with a price.
Outlaws don’t care about feelings, they care about brotherhood.
How far will you go for the club.
How much will you give for the patch.
It better be everything, or there will be consequences
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
Everything slows down.
The way it always does when death enters the conversation.
The gun in my hand feels unusually light. Like three pounds of cold certainty against my palm belongs there. Has more right to be there than a spoon or a pen ever did.
The barrel points at Colt's forehead, dead center. I could put a hole right between his eyes from twice this distance.
My finger rests alongside the trigger guard—not on the trigger. Not yet.
But that's discipline, not mercy.
Behind me, I hear the clubhouse door creak open. Boots on gravel.
In front of me, Colt's eyes widen just enough to show he understands exactly how close he is to the end of his story.
My arm doesn't shake. Prison built these muscles layer by layer, cell by cell. Three years of push-ups and pull-ups until my body became a weapon that didn't need to be smuggled in.
Destiny clutches her baby tighter, the yellow blanket bright against the gathering dusk. "Legion, don't—"
"Shut up," I say, voice flat. Not angry. Just empty.
My focus narrows to Colt's face, but my mind splits open, falling backward through time.
Once upon a time, Destiny was my world. When she was small. Hours old. Days old. Weeks old. Hell, my fascination with Destiny Kane lasted several years. I was fifteen when she was born.
Before Destiny, it was just me and mama. When Deacon, Destiny and Mercy's father, started hanging around, I thought things would never be good again. Not that they were much better before, but a single boy to take care of is one thing. A boy and two girls paints a very different picture of what it means to survive.
But it wasn’t all bad. Deacon didn't hang around much after Destiny was born. He worked, spent most of his money on gambling, came home at night to fuck my mama, sleep, and eat our food. But he helped, I guess.
Destiny was the most beautiful child ever. She's got a more exotic look to her compared to me. Dark hair, almost midnight black, where mine has always been blond. But we both have mama's blue eyes.
There were days back when she was small where I would just look at her. Get lost in that beauty. In my limited world of scrubland and lonely prairies, Destiny was a bluebell surrounded by dust.
Then Mercy came and it all fell apart.
One kid a single mother can handle. Even one like me.
Two… it's iffy.
Three breaks everythin’.
Deacon’s angry indifference, combined with the demands of hungry children—well, it was too much for her.
Did my mama kill herself? Did her car slip off that icy freeway overpass on purpose, or by accident?
Won’t ever know.
But did she choose to take enough oxy to kill a horse that same night, leave her newborn baby home alone, and then go out drivin’ in a blizzard?
That’s a resoundin’ yes, folks.
I won’t let Destiny’s life end up being so worthless.
I can’t do it. I won’t be able to live with myself if her end is nothin’ but a repeat of the woman who brought her into this world.
The wind picks up, blowing grit across the parking lot. It stings my eyes, but I don't blink. The late afternoon sun sits heavy and gold on the horizon, casting long shadows across Colt's face. Sweat beads along my hairline, trickling down my temple.
My world has always been about choices with no good options.
Prison or my sisters.
Club or Savannah.
Now this—Destiny with Colt's baby, my gun, my sister, my woman, my club.
Thirty-nine men behind these walls just voted to protect what's mine. But Destiny's mine too. Blood of my blood. The one I failed by going inside, by not being there when she needed me.
I don't need to ask to know that every member of Badlands is rethinking that decision now.
Even Diesel. He’s my best friend, but this right here—this intrusion, this drama, this… impossible situation with Destiny and Colt…
Church, and the decisions that come out of it, aren’t about friendship.
They’re about survival.
The skin between my shoulder blades prickles and I can feel those eight pairs of dissenting eyes boring into my back like bullet holes. I don't need to turn around to know exactly who's watching—because everyone is watching.
The shift in the air behind me is subtle. The moment when respect starts bleeding into doubt. Every second this gun stays raised, I'm burning through the goodwill my three years inside earned me.
The brand on my chest throbs with my heartbeat, still raw, still healing.
What does it mean, it's asking.
What am I willing to give up to respect that brand.
I'm at a crossroads here. Every single member of Badlands is watching. Waiting to see which Legion Kane I really am.
The disciplined soldier who earned his patch in blood and silence?
Or a fool who'll burn it all down for a woman and a sister?
The fact is, in this moment, I'm not really sure.