I’m still shaking the cobwebs from that fucked-up dream when I enter Church. My head’s not where it should be, and I hate myself for it. This isn’t the time to be thinking about Dante’s mouth, or his hands, or the ripple of muscle when he moves. I shove the images down hard. I don’t get to lose focus, not with Amber lying upstairs bruised and broken because we didn’t get ahead of this. Not with three bodies cooling in a warehouse across town because we got sloppy. We’ve been underestimating Victor Serrano, and if I don’t get my head straight, more people are going to pay for it.
I’m the last to take my seat. Quinn leans forward, steel in her blue eyes as they flick up at me, sharp but not cruel. She’s annoyed, and I can’t blame her. “Thanks for finally joining us,”
I nod, sliding into my chair. I don’t bother explaining. Quinn doesn’t accept excuses anyways.
“Now that we’re all here,” she says, “someone care to fill me in on what went down today?”
LC answers first. “We spotted a kid hanging flyers with the red-eyed snake logo on them. He knew who we were and he ran. I made the call to follow him, figuring he’d either lead us to thisgym or maybe to Serrano himself.” She shakes her head. “But he led us into a trap.”
Her voice is clipped, her shoulders squared, chin held high daring anyone, including Quinn, to call her out.
Lolita cuts in. “There were three of them, we put them down. Left the kid standing so Serrano gets the message we’re not sitting back while he plays dirty in our city.”
She leans back in her chair with a quick smirk, still riding the high of it. Reckless, always. I keep still, but my gut twists at the thought of that kid, too damn young to be trapped in violence.
Quinn stays stone, her gaze moving between LC and Lolita, weighing the information. With Quinn, silence is calculated. She’s measuring strategy against impulse, the value and risk, and deciding which one we’ll need most in the fight ahead.
Then she turns to me, and in that beat, I know I’m being weighed too. Not as a fighter, not as a Tail Gunner but as someone she needs to see can balance logic against impulse, control against temper.
“We got the flyer,” I say, tossing the folded paper onto the table. It lands in front of Vex, who’s already pulling out her tablet to scan it.
Everyone watches as her fingers fly over the keys, lines of text spilling across the screen. She doesn’t take long before her mouth twists. “It’s bait. Gym name’s fake. No record, no permits. Just a number to call if you’re dumb enough to sign up.”
Scarlet Rose pushes her glasses up, “So he’s what? Cultivating a list of potential fighters?”
“He’s fixing local underground fights by forcing fighters to throw matches for quick cash,” Orchid speaks up, “But what’s his end game?”
“I spoke with Amber earlier,” Meadow says, her voice steady but her hands tight in her lap. “She thought if she played along,she’d keep the heat off the other girls. Figured taking a dive was better than bringing Serrano’s attention here.”
The room stills, and I feel my chest lock up, but I don’t cut in.
“She was supposed to lose,” Meadow goes on. “But mid-fight, she said all she could hear was Katana’s voice in her head, telling her not to fold. So she fought back. Won the round.” Meadow’s jaw tightens. “And that’s when everything turned.”
The words hit like a blade to the ribs. Amber hearingmyvoice in her head? That’s a heavy weight to carry. She thought she was doing what I would do and now she’s carrying the scars for it.
Scarlet Rose leans forward. “Serrano’s guy didn’t just lose face, he lost money. One fight going sideways could undercut his entire operation.”
Meadow nods. “Amber embarrassed him. Made him look weak in front of his own people. So he beat her for it. And then dumped her at our gates to make sure we knew exactly who she pissed off.”
I shake my head, disgust coiling in my gut. If he thinks dumping her broken body on our doorstep will make us back off? He doesn’t know the first thing about the Harlots.
“We weren't gunning for him before but we sure as hell are now.” Quinn’s voice carries, final enough that no one in the room argues. Glances pass, questions thrown out, everyone chewing on the same question… What the hell do we do next?
The weight settles in the room, pressing down around us until a knock on the door cuts through it. Every head turns. Church doesn’t get interrupted. Not ever.
Quinn’s brow furrows, her hand drumming on the table before she nods at Scarlet Rose to unlatch it. Nyx pushes the door open a crack. Her dark hair slips forward over one shoulder, silver streak catching the light. Her grey eyes scan the room quickly before fixing on Quinn’s irritated glare.
“Dante’s here,” she announces, her soft voice cracking. “He says he’s got information that’s only safe in the hands of his allies.”
That word,allies, lands heavy.
Quinn’s brow cocks, her chair creaking as she leans back slow. Her eyes cut toward me.
“Are we allies now?” She lets the word drag.
My throat goes dry, and I swallow hard. “Did I not mention we spoke this morning?”
“No,” Quinn’s smirk is sharp enough to cut, “Guess you weredistracted.”
