Ezra

My fist cracks again across Tristan’s jaw, and he sputters, sagging in Torch’s arms.

“EJ, that’s enough,” Torch says. You’re going to kill him.”

I crack my bloody knuckles. “That’s the fucking point.”

“We need him alive if we’re going to get Wren back safely.”

Right. Tristan’s going to be our fucking bait. If the Smitties MC need Tristan, they’ll just have to give me Wren.

My jaw ticks as I stare at Tristan’s bloody face, head bowed slightly as he’s ...