The severed finger changed everything. Not because Devil’s Hollow wasn’t already at war but because the war stopped pretending to be anything else.
The note from Raze spread through the clubhouse within hours and every member understood the message immediately.
The Black Reapers weren’t hiding anymore. Neither were we. the conflict had crossed a line. Again.
And this time nobody expected it to slow down.
Church meetings became strategy sessions.
Maps covered tables, routes got discussed, weapons got counted and guards shifted doubled.
Every conversation somehow circled back to survival.
The clubhouse started looking less like a home and more like a fortress.
Ammo crates appeared in storage rooms and extra rifles got distributed. Even the prospects carried heavier weapons. Pup i
