Jace and Nico both snort, and for a second, the tension lifts.
Whale blows on his coffee, eyes scanning the room. “What do we do about this mess?” he asks, voice flat.
Nico leans forward, elbows on his knees. “We need to talk to Wilson Decker. That motherfucker disappeared on us.”
Whale nods, scratching his beard. “He’s still in town, far as I know. But it’s risky—especially with Rodriguez hunting you down.”
Levi glances around the room, voice steady. “I’ve got a plan. It’s dangerous, but I think it can work.”
Jace looks up, eyebrow raised. “Let’s hear it.”
Levi glances at me, then at the window. “We take some of the bikes parked out front. Rodriguez isn’t going to mess with a couple of bikers unless he’s got a reason—and with helmets on, he won’t recognize us.”
Nico nods, a hint of a grin flickering. “That’s fucking suicide, but I love it.”
“I’m not on board,” Jace says, shaking his head.
“You don’t have to be,” Levi says. “Just stay here with Carrie. She’s the most important part of this job anyway.”
My throat fills with a lump. I hate that they have to keep making hard choices, all because I messed up.
Nico sets his coffee down with a clink. “We won’t go alone. We’ll take Whale—just in case Rodriguez decides to cross paths with us.”
Whale just shakes his head but doesn’t refuse. Loyalty burns deep in their blood, all of them.
Jace frowns, but after a moment, he nods. “All right. I’ll stay back with Carrie and Marcy. Keep the fort down here.”
I feel a squeeze of relief and worry at the same time, grateful that Jace will be close. He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, his thumb brushing my knuckles.
Whale finishes his coffee, looking between us all. “Let’s get this done before the whole damn town wakes up.”
Nico and Levi head for the door, Whale following, the three of them already slipping into that focused, ready-for-anything energy I remember from better days.
29
WRECKER
The cold air bites at my skin as we walk back to the clubhouse, boots crunching over gravel. My heart hammers with every step, but it’s not just nerves. There’s something else, something I haven’t felt in weeks.
Inside, Whale is already digging through the coat closet. He tosses us our old jackets, stiff with worn leather and memories. He hands me a helmet, the familiar weight settling on my palm. “Keep your head down,” he says. “No showboating.”
Nico laughs, claps him on the shoulder, and slips his helmet on. I pull mine over my head, tightening the strap, the scent of old sweat and rain-soaked rides flooding back. Even with the danger, I can’t help the grin tugging at my mouth.
We walk out to the front of the clubhouse where the bikes are lined up, metal catching the pale morning light. They’re not ours, not really, but just swinging a leg over the seat makes my blood surge. I settle in, hands closing around the grips. The engine rumbles to life beneath me. For a second, I let myself just breathe. Even with everything wrong in the world, nothing feels like this.
Nico glances over, visor down. “Ready?”
I nod, heart thumping, feeling the power under me. “Let’s ride.”
We roll into town with the sun just beginning to warm the rooftops. The engines vibrate beneath us, Nico riding close, Whale just behind. For a minute, it feels almost good—like those early days, before we ever found the club, just me and my brother chasing the horizon. I remember what it felt like to ride for no one but ourselves.
That feeling doesn’t last. As we pass the old gas station, something catches my eye up ahead. Blue and red lights flicker through the morning haze. There’s a roadblock stretched across Main Street. Two police cars, doors open, officers standing by, all of them watching us. Leaning against a black sedan is Rodriguez, arms folded, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.
My grip tightens on the handlebars. Nico glances at me, jaw set. There’s nowhere to turn around. We ease the bikes up to the checkpoint, engines rumbling low.
One officer steps forward, hand resting on his holster, motioning for us to stop. Whale pulls up next to me, saying nothing. Rodriguez pushes off his car, his gaze fixed on us.
Whale clears his throat and speaks up, his voice carrying just the right mix of boredom and authority. “Morning, officers. Just passing through.”
