She gave me a small laugh. “Never have.”
He glanced back over his shoulder. “Ain’t a bad thing. But this time, we play it smart. Let Eagle and Brick bring back something solid before we move.”
She walked over, setting the chain beside the knife. “You think they’re ready for this war?”
Tater looked at her for a long second. “Ready or not, it’s comin.’ Shadow’s gone, but that don’t mean the fire dies with him.”
Before she could answer, his burner phone buzzed on the table. A single vibration—Eagle’s code for urgent.
Tater grabbed it. “Talk.”
Eagle’s voice was rough, wind cutting across it. “We found their base, Prez. Old warehouse off Lewiston. Hounds are stockpiling heavy—guns, fuel, maybe more.”
“Any leadership?”
“Yeah. And you ain’t gonna like it. They got new backing. Cartel money. Some slick bastard in a suit givin’ orders. Called one of ‘em ‘Fang.’ Looks like he’s the new Prez.”
Ren froze, eyes narrowing. “Fang?” she mouthed.
Tater’s expression darkened. “They mention us?”
“They did more than mention,” Eagle said. “Said the Bastards need to ‘feel the pressure before the weekend.’ They’re comin’ for us, Tater. This ain’t just revenge—it’s a contract.”
Tater’s jaw worked tight. “You boys get clear?”
“Barely. Got proof, got faces. Sendin’ pics now.”
The line crackled, then went dead. Seconds later, the phone vibrated again—a file drop.
Tater opened it, thumb scrolling through blurred photos until one stopped him cold.
Ren leaned in beside him.
Three Hades Hellhounds in front of a black van, crates behind them. And the man giving the orders—pressed shirt, clean boots, slick smile—someone she’d seen once before.
Her breath caught. “Hector Sanchez.”
Tater frowned. “You know him?”
“Cartel liaison,” she said quietly. “Shadow met him once when we were still runnin’ jobs down south. If Sanchez is in bed with the Hounds, this isn’t just a club war. It’s expansion.”
Tater’s hand closed into a fist. “Then we cut it off before it spreads.”
Ren nodded. “We take out their funding, their link to the cartel, and Fang falls with it.”
He looked at her, that quiet fire back in his eyes. “You got somethin’ in mind?”
She smiled faintly. “Always.”
He leaned back, watching her—the set of her jaw, the light in her eyes, the dragon just barely shimmering beneath her skin.
“Alright,” he said finally. “Then we do it your way first. Quiet. Clean. Then if they don’t listen…”
Her voice finished his thought for him. “We burn it down.”
He grinned. “Now you’re speakin’ my language.”
CHAPTER 28
