The safehouse’s backroom smelled like coffee and old wood. A heavy map was spread across the table, pinned at the corners by spare mags and a wrench. Savage stood at the head of it, his cut half unzipped, the word President glinting under the low light.
Banshee leaned against the far wall, arms folded, her sharp eyes cutting between the Savage and Jace like she was measuring how much fire was about to be started. Bolt was perched near the window, one hand on his phone, scanning updates from their watchers. And Rebel stood by the door, her expression unreadable, except for the worry in her eyes.
Jace stayed standing, restless. His knuckles were still raw from making their escape the day before from the cabin. Every part of him seemed to be wired for movement, for a fight, and that made Winter worry.
Savage tapped the map. “We’ve had eyes on three Dead Rabbit convoys moving through Tennessee the last two days. Bolt confirmed one of them peeled off north—straight toward your cabin.”
Jace’s jaw tightened. “So they knew where to look.”
“Yeah,” Bolt said, voice low. “They’ve been tracking chatter about a woman fitting Winter’s description since the day she lefttown. One of their runners saw her at that supply stop outside Sheffield. That’s what led them to you.”
Banshee pushed off the wall, pacing slowly. “They weren’t after you, Jace. Not at first. They wanted to know that she was tied to you.”
“How would they have even known that she and I were together?” he asked. “I mean, we only had one night together. If they were coming for me, how would they know to track Winter?”
“Maybe they were going to interrogate her to find you,” Rebel said.
“Or maybe they were going to traffic her to teach you a lesson,” Bolt offered. “No matter what they thought they could get out of her, they used Winter to get to you.”
Jace’s pulse kicked hard. He’d known that the Rabbits would do anything to find him. Hell, it was the reason he’d gone dark—to protect his family and friends, but hearing Bolt say it out loud made it real in a way that left a weight in his chest.
Bolt slid a folder across the table to Jace. “Intel from Huntsville PD and a few of our guys in the field. The Dead Rabbits are running scared, which makes them dangerous. They’re burning through towns, and they’re not subtle about what they want—you.” Jace flipped the folder open and found photos and surveillance shots. All the bases had been covered, but that didn’t make him feel any better. When it was just him on the run from the Dead Rabbits, he knew that he could cover his own six. But now, they were coming for his woman and his son, and that had him questioning every decision that he had made since making Winter his.
Savage leaned closer. “We’ll keep you both hidden for now, but we need to think long-term. If you want to stop running, we'll take this fight to them. End it before they regroup.” Jaceknew that his Prez was right, but he also hated putting Winter and the baby into even more danger.
Banshee nodded. “You’ll have the backing of the Royal Bastards and the Harlots—we’re aligned on this. You’ve got our help. I would understand if you wanted to take off again, to try to stay off the Rabbit’s radar. But if you stay here, you bring the fight to Huntsville, and we’ll be right by your side.”
Jace looked from one face to another—Rebel, Banshee, Bolt, Savage—all of them waiting for him to make a decision. They were allies, but with their own stakes in the war. Then, he looked at Winter, knowing that she’d agree to what he decided, but he still wanted her input. This was her war now, too, and she had everything to lose if he fucked it all up.
She shrugged, and he looked at her belly where their son rested, not having a clue about how much danger his father put him in. No, he couldn’t let Winter ride into this war that he had created. And if he stayed, she’d demand to stay too. She was his responsibility now—they both were, and if that meant letting Bolt, the FBI, the Bastards, and the Harlots do the heavy lifting.
He exhaled slowly, knowing what he had to do next. “We won’t stay,” he said. “I can’t put you and the baby in any more danger. We’ll move somewhere they won’t think to look. Let them chase shadows while you all come up with a plan on how to burn them down for good.” Winter nodded and crossed the room to take his hand, squeezing it into her own. He guessed that was her way of telling him that he had chosen the correct path—at least that was his hope.
Bolt arched a brow. “You got a place in mind?”
“Yeah,” Jace said quietly. “But first, I want her checked out before we take off again. She’s been through too much, and she hasn’t been seen by a doctor in a few weeks now.”
Banshee’s expression softened a fraction. “We’ve got someone. She’s new to the Harlots, but Ruby is trustworthy, and she’s a damn good doctor. I’ll make the call.”
Bolt folded his arms over his massive chest, studying his brother-in-law. “Are you thinking this ends with you walking away clean?” he asked. Jace didn’t want to hope for that outcome and jinx the whole operation, but yeah, that was exactly what he was hoping for. He also knew that it was going to be impossible to accomplish. The Rabbits would want their pound of flesh, and he’d have to pay up sooner or later.
Jace met his gaze. “No. I’m thinking this ends with Winter and the baby safe. After that, I’ll take whatever comes. I just need them both safe.” For a moment, the room was silent except for the low hum of the generator outside. Jace worried that Bolt was going to try to talk him out of his plan or that Rebel would argue with him that he was being ridiculous.
Instead, Bolt nodded, slow and certain. “Then we’ll make damn sure you get that chance. But we’re going to do everything in our power to keep you safe, too, man.” He looked over at Rebel and smiled. “Because if I don’t, your sister will hand me my ass on a platter.” Jace wasn’t sure how Bolt was going to even attempt to keep that promise to him, but he knew that his brother-in-law would try.
WINTER
The safehouse bedroom was warmer than the cabin had ever been, but Winter couldn’t stop shaking. Maybe it was nerves, or maybe exhaustion. Hell, it probably was both. The mattress dipped under her as she shifted, trying to get comfortable, brushing her belly as if the baby could somehow steady her.
Banshee’s friend, Dr. Ruby, finished wrapping the blood pressure cuff and scribbling notes in a hot pink notebook. If she weren’t so worried about the baby and the threat of the Dead Rabbits finding them the night before, she’d find the whole scene funny.
“You’re dehydrated,” she murmured. “You need rest. Real rest—not the kind you get when someone’s chasing you, and you’re living on the run.” Winter swallowed. “But we are safe here,” she insisted. Ruby hesitated. It wasn’t a long pause, but it was long enough to tell Winter everything that she needed to know.
Ruby pasted on her smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “From what I understand, you are safer here than you were at the cabinin Minnesota,” she said finally. Well, that wasn’t the same as safe.
Before Winter could ask any more questions, the door opened, and Banshee stepped in, her presence cutting through the room like a blade of calm authority. “Ruby, give us a minute.” Ruby nodded, packed up her kit, and slipped out. The door had barely clicked shut before Banshee dragged a chair close to the bed and sat, her expression serious but not unkind.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
