For a moment, we just stand there, two women from opposite worlds.
She tilts her head toward the kitchen. “Come on. You look like you could use some coffee.”
I follow her in. The clubhouse kitchen smells like strong brew and cinnamon. Lisa pulls a couple of mugs down, pouring darkcoffee into both. She slides one across the counter to me, while taking a sip of her own.
Wrapping my hands around my cup, I let the heat ground me. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? I spent my career chasing men like your husband. Building cases against clubs like this one. And now… here I am. Under your protection. Counting on the Royal Bastards to help me take down the people who killed my family.”
Lisa leans against the counter, mug in hand, hazel eyes steady on me. “Life flips the script sometimes. Doesn’t matter what side you were on before. What matters is who’s standing with you now.”
I take a sip of my brew, and let her words sink in.
“You don’t have to carry this alone,” she continues. “There are other women here.. old ladies, hang-arounds, sisters. They know what it’s like to live in this world. I can introduce you, if you want. Might help to have people who understand.”
I nod slowly, fingers tight around the mug. “I don’t know if I fit here.”
She gives me a small smile. “None of us thought we did at first. But you’ll see. This place… it’s family. Messy, loud, and dangerous… but we’re family and we’re loyal. And right now, you need that more than anything.”
Her words settle in me, heavy but true. For the first time since the massacre, I feel something close to belonging.
I thank her quietly, and she pats my arm before moving toward the door. “I’ll come get you later. We’ll meet with the others.”
When she’s gone, I sit alone in the kitchen, staring into the dark swirl of my coffee. The Bastards are criminals, outlaws, men I once swore to take down. And now they’re the ones standing between me and the cartel.
It’s twisted. It’s ironic. But it’s also the only chance I’ve got.
I inhale deep, the bitterness in my chest hardening into resolve.
They killed the only family I have. They think I’ll stay broken.
But I’m still here. And I’ll make damn sure they pay.
EIGHTEEN
NIGHTMARE
A week passes.Streets are quiet, too quiet. Cartel’s lying low, but I know better than to think they’re gone. Quiet just means they’re planning.
Londyn’s been settling in at the clubhouse. She tries, but I can see the restlessness in her eyes. She’s not built to sit still, not built to hide. Every night we lose ourselves in each other, and it takes some of the edge off… for both of us. But when morning comes, the fire’s still there. She wants blood. She wants justice.
We’re in church when Maverick lays it out. “Word on the street is the Syndicate’s been sniffing around. They’re looking for her. That’s leverage. We use Londyn as bait, draw them out, and cut the head off the snake.”
The words hit like a hammer. I slam my fist against the table. “Hell no. She’s not bait. She’s not a damn pawn in this game.”
Mav’s eyes narrow. “You think I don’t know the risk? You think I’d throw her to the wolves without a plan?”
I lean forward, voice low, and dangerous. “She’s been through enough. You want to flush the cartel out, find another way.”
Steel speaks up, calm but firm. “Brother, listen. It’s the only way. They’re hunting her. That’s the one thing we can use. We control the setup, we control the field. We put eyes everywhere, guns everywhere. She’s not alone. She’s the key to pulling them out of the shadows.”
I grit my teeth, every muscle tight. The thought of her out there, exposed, makes my blood boil. But Steel’s right. The cartel won’t move unless they think they’ve got her.
I look at Lolo, expecting fear, hesitation. Instead, she meets my eyes steady, and unflinching. “I’ll do it,” she says. “If it gets us closer to taking them down, I’ll put myself on the line.”
My chest twists. She’s willing to bleed for this, willing to face the same people who destroyed her family.
I shake my head, muttering, “You don’t know what you’re agreeing to, Lolo.”
She reaches across the table, her hand brushing mine. “I do. And I’m not afraid. Not anymore.”
