Chapter Eighty-Four
Blade’s pov
The atmosphere at the compound was bizarre. One week we were burying our own, and the next, we were throwing a party. Stone called it a "morale builder"—a way to show the local affiliates and the neighborhood that the Iron Reapers were far from defeated. In reality, it was a display of power, a loud, whiskey-soaked declaration that we were still standing.
I joined the preparation in the main courtyard early that morning. It was easier to be around people when everyone had a task. It kept the questions at bay. I spent hours hauling crates of beer into the massive industrial coolers, stringing up lights that looked laughably festive against the soot-stained brick walls, and setting up the long, folding tables for the food.
Silas was working only a few fee
