POV: Burn
The air inside the clubhouse was thick with tension. Everyone was gearing up, checking their weapons, going over the plan. Razor was at the table with some of the boys, maps spread out in front of them. The hit last night had gone off clean, but it hadn’t been a victory—not yet. It was just the first step in what was going to be a long, bloody fight.
I stood by the window, staring out at the parking lot. The landscape stretched out beyond the bikes, the open Montana plains blending into the forested mountains in the distance. The wilderness out here felt endless, but it was also isolating. If things went bad, we’d be on our own. No one was coming to help.
That was fine. I didn’t need anyone’s help. I just needed to stay focused.
Razor leaned back in his chair, tapping the map
