“After Church. Figure I’ll clear my head before things get crazier.”
“Be careful out there,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder. “World’s a dangerous place for us at the moment.”
He grins, some of his usual swagger returning. “I’m a dangerous man, Pres. World should be scared of me.”
***
Later that night, after another Church session, after more planning and strategizing, I find myself alone in my room. The clubhouse has finally settled, and the brothers either passed out or gone home. Elizabeth is in her room down the hall, but I feel her presence like a phantom limb.
Moving to my desk, I pull out the file we have on Marcus Delaney. It’s not much, a few photographs, some background information, the official accident report that’s worth less than the paper it’s printed on.
But there’s one image I keep coming back to.
Marcus is on his bike, grinning at the camera with fire in his eyes. He looks happy. Alive. Unaware that in a few short weeks, his life would be stolen by a corrupt cop with too much power and no conscience.
I run my thumb over the photograph, feeling the weight of promises made and kept. We couldn’t save Marcus. But maybe we can expose the truth about what happened to him. Maybe we can give him the justice he deserves, even if it’s too late.
The poker chip emerges from my pocket again, moving through my fingers in the dark. My mother gave it to me when I was just a kid, told me to keep it as a reminder that sometimes you have to gamble everything to get what you really want.
I’ve been gambling with this club since I took the gavel. Gambling with our reputation, our safety, our very existence. And now I’m gambling with something even more dangerous—my heart.Because somewhere between Elizabeth walking through our doors and tonight on that roof, something shifted. The game changed. And I’m no longer sure if I’m playing to win or if I’ve already lost.
My phone buzzes and I pull it out of my pocket, casually glancing at the screen.
Ghost:Alliance on the move. Surveillance confirms meeting with Rourke tomorrow. Location TBD.
I type back quickly.
Me:Keep me posted. And Ghost… good work!
Setting the phone down, I look at Marcus’ picture one more time. “We’ll get him,” I say to the image, to his memory, to whatever’s left of the man who should have lived. “Rourke’s gonna pay for what he did. That’s a promise.”
The chip clicks between my knuckles, a familiar rhythm that sounds like a heartbeat in the quiet room.
Outside my window, the Vegas lights paint the sky in shades of neon and sin. This city has always been about gambling, about risk, about putting it all on the line for a chance at something better. I’ve been playing it safe for too long. Protecting the club, maintaining order, keeping everyone at arm’s length.
But Elizabeth Hale, whoever she really is underneath all those layers, has made me want to bet it all again.
To risk everything for the chance at something real.
And maybe that makes me a fool.
Maybe that makes me reckless.
But for the first time in years, I feel something other than duty and obligation.
I feel hope.
And that’s the most dangerous gamble of all.
Chapter Twenty-Two
ELIZABETH
Sleep won’t come.
I stare at the ceiling of the guest room Sin gave me, watching shadows shift and dance across the plaster as moonlight filters through the curtains. The room is comfortable enough. More than comfortable, actually. A double bed with soft sheets that smell faintly of lavender detergent. A dresser against one wall. A small attached bathroom. Everything I could possibly need.
Everything except peace of mind.
