I nodded, already swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “This is good. Means they’re bringing you inside the circle.” I reached for my jeans, pulling them on without bothering with underwear. “Knuckles doesn’t invite outsiders to meetings.”
She sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest, her hair falling in tangled waves around her shoulders. “And now I’m not an outsider?”
I paused, one arm through my shirt sleeve. “You were never an outsider, Cora. Not since the first time you came to the compound. When you came back the next time the old ladies ordered, you were one of us.” The words came out rougher thanI intended. “But now, you’re officially under club protection. Knuckles is acknowledging that to everyone by inviting you to join us.”
“You’re sure I’m not in trouble?”
I chuckled. “No, baby. If you were in trouble, you wouldn’t get a warning. And since you’re mine now, Knuckles will see to it everyone in this club protects you the same as they would the other old ladies. Once we make it official, he won’t have to make a grand gesture. Anywhere you wear your property cut, everyone will know you’re under the protection of Kiss of Death MC.”
The explanation seemed to satisfy her. Her features relaxed and she smiled up at me. “Thank you, Marcus. For everything.”
“You’re very welcome. And thank you for the same.” I leaned in and gave her one more soft kiss.
She dressed quickly while I shrugged into my club colors over my T-shirt. I watched her dress, her hands steady despite the tension I could feel radiating from her. When she finished, I reached for her, pulling her against my chest for a moment. She felt small in my arms, but not fragile. Never that. This woman had more strength than most men I knew. Maybe not physically, but she was mentally tough as nails. And I knew she wasn’t afraid to fight. She just needed a direction and a goal. Reeves had her off-balance before, but not now. She might be unsure in this new world, but my woman would fight tooth and nail against anyone who threatened what she considered hers. Same as me.
“Whatever Knight found,” I murmured against her hair, “we face it together. You understand?”
She nodded against my chest, then pulled back to look up at me. “I’m ready.”
The walk to the common room took us past several brothers. Diesel nodded to us from his position near the mainentrance. Hawk stood outside the common room door, his posture deceptively relaxed while his gaze constantly scanned out the windows. The increased security wasn’t lost on Cora. I felt her press slightly closer to my side as we approached.
“Rancor,” Hawk acknowledged with a slight nod. His gaze shifted to Cora, assessing but not unkind. “Ma’am.”
“Hello, Hawk. Call me Cora. Ma’am makes me sound old.” She wrinkled her nose delicately.
Hawk chuckled. “Just mindin’ my manners. Carrie would have my hide if I accidentally insulted you.”
“Well, I’m not the formal sort. Carrie knows that.” All the women had made a point to make Cora feel at home. Though she hadn’t been around Carrie as much as some of the others, Cora genuinely liked the other woman.
The common room had transformed from its usual relaxed atmosphere into something resembling a war council. The long wooden table that normally hosted card games and meals now dominated the center of the space, surrounded by grim-faced club members and a couple of the old ladies. Hannah sat beside her husband, Knuckles, her usual warm smile still bright as she waved to Cora despite the situation. Pippa sat beside Gunnar, who had been drafted as de facto VP. He’d yet to accept the designation, but still put in the work. Gunnar said he didn’t want the responsibility. Pippa said he didn’t want to have to pretend to actually be responsible.
Knuckles gestured to two empty chairs across from him. “‘Bout fuckin’ time,” he grunted, but there was no real heat in the words. He even managed a wry grin. His gaze held mine for a moment, communicating what his words didn’t. A frisson of trepidation danced up my spine. Whatever Knight was about to say was bad.
I guided Cora to the chairs, my hand on the small of her back in what I hoped was a reassuring gesture. She movedwith surprising composure, her chin high despite the palpable tension in the room. Pride surged through me at her strength.
“Knight,” Knuckles barked once we were seated. “Show them.”
Knight nodded, tapping a few keys on his laptop. The projector hummed to life, throwing images onto the white wall behind him. My stomach turned cold at what appeared.
Cora’s face stared back at us from surveillance photos that had been expertly altered. In one, she appeared to be handing a package to a known dealer in East Nashville. In another, she stood inside what looked like a warehouse, surrounded by crates labeled with the Kiss of Death insignia. Documents filled the next slides. Bank statements showing large deposits, text message exchanges discussing “product” and “shipments,” all of it seeming to implicate Cora, as well as Kiss of Death, in some kind of drug trafficking ring.
“Jesus,” Cora whispered beside me. I reached under the table, finding her hand and gripping it tightly.
Knight’s voice cut through the stunned silence. “Reeves has been busy. These have been uploaded to Nashville PD’s secure server in the last forty-eight hours. He’s building a case against Cora as our mule.” Knight clicked to another slide showing official-looking paperwork. “And this is a warrant request, not yet submitted but drafted, for a raid on the compound. He’s claiming Cora’s information led them to evidence of large-scale drug operations here.”
Knuckles slammed his fist onto the table, making several coffee mugs jump. “That fuckin’ pig,” he snarled. “Using a woman to get to Rancor. Low even for a cop with a hard-on for revenge.”
My fingers tightened around Cora’s hand, but I kept my face impassive. The rage building inside me was a familiar beast, one I’d spent years learning to cage. Now it prowled restlessly,sensing freedom was near. But acting on blind fury wouldn’t help Cora.
“How long do we have?” I asked, my voice steady despite the inferno raging beneath my skin.
Knight shrugged. “Three days, maybe four, before he submits the warrant request. Once it’s approved --”
“We need solutions,” Knuckles cut in. “Not fuckin’ timelines.”
Tiny, who’d been silent until now, leaned forward. “We could disappear her. I got contacts in --”
“No,” I interrupted, the single word slicing through the room. “We’re not running. Not from this. Reeves wants me. If he gets what he wants, he’ll leave you guys and Cora alone.”
