Doc looked up, eyes sharp. “What do we do about her?”
I shrugged again. “She’s working for the people who are fucking us over. The end game is finding out who and why. Ghosting her might be the best way to do that.”
Arsenal grunted. “I say we bring her in. See what she wants.”
Bronc shot him a look. “And if she’s tight-lipped? Won’t talk?”
Arsenal smiled, all teeth and old wounds. “Then we make her.”
A silence fell, thick as oil. The only sound was the ticking of the wall clock, the second hand stuttering on the twelve.
Bronc turned to me. “You sure it’s her?”
“Yeah,” I said. “IP addresses don’t lie, Bronc.”
He nodded once, then again, like he was getting ready to kill a man he used to call a brother. “We do this clean. No heat, no blowback. Set it up, Wrecker. Do whatever you have to do to find out who the hell she’s working for. Any means necessary. I’m fucking tired of this shit.”
Gunner shifted by the window. “What about Skeeter?” he asked. “He’s growing old in that cell.”
Bronc waved it off. “I’m about ready to deal with that little prick as well.”
I raised a hand. “It’s clearly time. Let’s knock off that easy problem.”
He smiled, but it was the kind of smile that meant nothing. “By all means, let’s.”
Meeting adjourned.
The rest filed out, one by one. Only Bronc lingered, tapping a finger on the table.
He waited until we were alone, then leaned in. “What does your gut tell you, Eli?”
I shook my head. “She’s not doing it for cash. This is too dirty. She doesn’t need the money to be involved in something this underhanded. Plus, this doesn’t fucking seem like something she’d do. She comes home every month for the Moon Run. Thenshe all of a sudden, wants to betray us? Something smells. If they have a hold on her, it’s personal.”
He grunted. “Axel?”
“Maybe. Or maybe she started hating us for some reason. Can’t think of a reason why. We were fucking aces to those two.”
He laughed, a low, humorless laugh. “Shit, if she’s in the ‘hates Iron Valor’ camp, she needs to take a fucking number.”
We shared a genuine, if not an ironic laugh at that.
“Whatever the reason, I’m gonna find it.”
We gathered at Skeeter’s cell at the Iron Valor jailhouse late in the afternoon. He’d been locked up for about three weeks now. We’d planned on making this situation short and sweet, but then Menace had to go fight and die, then get not so dead, then get himself crowned king of the Midwest. That took some time to shake out. But here we were, finally confronting Skeeter about just who the fuck he was working for.
Skeeter totally looked the worse for wear. He was scared, and he fucking well should be. He’d been stealing from our Alpha for fucking months. He’d tell us why, or he’d pay for it with his life. The cot in the corner of the cell was filthy, and on it he sat, looking old and defeated.
“J’come to finish me off? See you brought all your men. Too afraid to face me alone?” He sneered at Bronc.
Bronc just shook his head. “If you wanna just run your mouth while you can, don’t guess I’ll stop you. I’m holding all the cards here, old man.”
He clearly wanted the opportunity. “You motherfuckers,” he wheezed, spitting onto the floor. “You got no idea what you’re up against.”
I’d joined him in his cell and let him finish, then put my hands on his shoulders. “I do, Skeet. I know exactly what I’m up against. I’ve been up against it since I was old enough to walk.” I leaned in, voice low. “You know what Idon’tknow? Why you’d choose to go against a pack you spent your entire life with?”
His head jerked, a twitch of pride or pain, impossible to tell. “What’s it matter? You’re all dead, anyway. No one beats who I’m working with.”
Gunner stepped up, jaw set, arms crossed. “You might wanna think about our track record you dumb fuck. Iron Valor hasn’t ever been beaten.”
