Steel lets out a slow whistle. “That’s a nasty fucking crew.”
That family is known for their savagery. If you betray them, you may as well wish for death, and they never leave survivors. How in the hell did Ty get mixed up the them?
Mav leans back, eyes flicking between me and Londyn. “You wanted help? You’ve got it. But if this blows back on the Bastards, Night, it’s your blood that pays.”
I nod, jaw tight. “I understand.”
FOURTEEN
LONDYN
Glancing around the clubhouse,I take in the patched leather, the unreadable eyes, the men who don’t owe me a damn thing but stepped up anyway.
“Thanks,” I say, struggling to keep my voice from cracking. “None of you owe me shit, yet here you are, ready to walk into my mess with guns up.”
My eyes land on Maverick. “I don’t take this lightly. And I know this isn’t a simple ask.”
“We live for this shit,” a rough-looking bastard withDemolitionstitched on his kutte throws out.
The room breaks into low laughter, severing the tension.
One week. That’s all it took to blow my entire life apart.
My family butchered.
Ty exposed as working with the DEA and FBI.
The Mendaro Syndicate breathing down my neck.
And someone in my own precinct feeding intel to the people who murdered my family.
Everything about this tastes like blood and betrayal. It all sounds like the plot of some suspense flick, but it’s not. It’s my life right now. And if Captain Herrera or Tony had a hand inthis? I’ll put a bullet between their eyes myself. No questions. No hesitation. No mercy.
In the meantime, I’m staying off the radar. Keeping my head down in the last place anyone would think to look… a biker clubhouse. Cops don’t come here unless they’re serving warrants or raiding the place. Nobody’s checking this spot for me, not even the ones who want me dead.
I never put my connection to Malcolm in my report, didn’t mention it in a single briefing, and now I’m glad I didn’t. Paper trails get people dragged into rooms with two-way mirrors and too many questions. If Internal Affairs had caught wind of it, had even sniffed around it, they’d have dragged my ass into an interrogation room and picked until something cracked. And once Malcolm’s name got out? it wouldn’t just be me in the crosshairs, everyone tied to this place would be, too.
“Is there somewhere I can crash?”
“Yeah. Come on,” Malcolm says, grabbing my bag.
We head upstairs to a room at the end of the hallway. When he opens the door, I stop short. It’s spotless. Bed made tight, everything squared away like a damn inspection’s about to happen.
Malcolm lets out a low laugh, catching the look on my face.
“Old Army habit. Clean space keeps your head straight.”
“Makes sense,” I say, sinking onto the edge of the bed. But my mind’s already drifting back to the conversation downstairs.
“What happens if Turbo actually finds something on my people?” I ask, my stomach twisting hard at the thought.
Malcolm leans back against the dresser, arms crossed, jaw locked tight. “Then we move. Fast. We find out who’s dirty and eliminate them before they hand you over to the cartel.”
I nod, clenching and unclenching my fists. “I don’t even know how to thank you for this. You’re putting yourself in the line of fire for something that’s not your problem.”
His eyes soften… just enough that I notice. “You don’t need to thank me. I made the call. I’m in this.”
His words soften something inside me. “Still,” I say quietly, “it means a lot. More than you know.”
