Now Ty’s strung out, Lolo’s a cop, and I’m everything she’s supposed to hate.
Turbo glances over. “You sure you’re good?”
“Yeah, just tired.”
He nods, eyes back on the road.
Turning toward the window, I watch the red and blue lights fade in the rearview and wonder how the fuck I’m going to explain to Mav why the mule who betrayed us is still alive.
The clubhouse isloud when we enter. Music blaring from the house speakers, the guys are scattered around… some at the bar, others shooting pool. The minute Maverick spots me, his voice cuts through the noise.
“Church. Now.”
Everyone drops what they’re doing, and move. Chairs scrape across wood, boots hit the floor, and my heart’s hammering because I already know this isn’t going to end well.
Filing into the room, Maverick takes his seat at the head of the table, Steel to his right, and everyone else grabs whatever chair’s open. I stay standing.
“You take care of the informant?” Maverick asks not wasting any time.
“There was a complication.”
His tone sharpens. “What do you mean, complication?”
“Turns out, the informant is one of my best friends from childhood. Name’s Tyrique.”
The room goes dead quiet. All eyes on me. Steel shifts in his chair, tension rolling off him. “Your best friend’s a rat?”
“Yeah. Didn’t know until I saw his face,” I mutter, still trying to wrap my head around it.
A few of the guys exchange looks. Maverick’s expression darkens, jaw tightening.
“You had one fucking job. One. And you froze because the guy used to ride bikes with you when you were ten?”
“It’s not that simple, Prez.”
“Then make it simple,” he snaps.
I take a breath, meeting his stare.
“The cop that busted me? She’s his little sister, Londyn.”
A few curses break out around the table. Steel whistles low.
Maverick’s eyes are cold, calculating. “You realize what kind of shitstorm this puts us in, right, Nightmare?”
“Yeah, I do,” I say quietly. “I haven’t spoken to either of them in over ten years. And I sure as hell didn’t know she was a cop.
He pushes back from the table, pulls his phone from his kutte, and starts dialing. The room stays silent while the line rings.
“Jameson, we’ve got a problem,” he says when the call connects, putting it on speaker.
Maverick paces the room as he talks, explaining everything… my hesitation, who Tyrique is, and Londyn. The anger rolling off of him is felt throughout the room. Everyone is on edge and it’s all my fault.
As expected, Jameson’s words come through cold and sharp.
“You froze and let the rat walk?” he asks.
“It went sideways,” I say. “By the time I recognized Tyrique, Londyn busted in with her team and it was too late.”
