“Kayla’s not trained for this," I protest, but my resolve is weakening.
"We don't need her trained," Chaos explains. "Just present. Make an appearance. Act normal. Give us one night to plant a few bugs around the place. You'll also show up as your alter-ego, Vincent Torrino, and be there the whole time to protect her."
I grind my teeth, knowing I'm being backed into a corner.
“Look, we won’t force her to do it. We’ll simply ask. It’ll be her choice—and only for one more night," Chaos pushes. "She helps us, we help her, and maybe we save a few hundred lives in the process."
The room falls silent, waiting for my answer. My loyalty to the club wars with the fierce protectiveness I feel toward Kayla.
"Fine," I finally spit out. "IF—and only if—she agrees. One night. That's it. She goes in, I'm there watching her every second, and then she's done with that place forever."
Chaos nods, satisfied.
"And if anything happens to her," I add, my voice deadly quiet, "I'm warning you, I will burn that fucking place to the ground.”
Church adjourns shortly after, brothers filing out in tense silence. Zeus storms past me without a word, shoulder-checking me as he goes. Our friendship will need mending, but not any time soon. Not while the man is where he is—mentally wallowing in a deep, dark hole.
I find Kayla in Mama Pat’s office with Rowan, the three of them eating lunch. She's wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. Both hang a bit loose on her frame. Her blonde and pink hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and combined with her freshly scrubbed face, makes her look even younger. I dread what I’m about to ask.
She looks up when I enter, her face brightening, and something behind my breast bone clenches in response to that simple display of pleasure at my presence.
I nod a hello to Mama Pat and Rowan before meeting Kayla’s eyes. “I hate to interrupt you ladies. But Kayla, we need to talk," I tell her, gesturing for her to follow me.
In my room, I shut the door and rest my forehead against it for a moment, gathering strength for what I have to ask.
"What's wrong?" Her voice is soft, concerned.
I turn to face her, hating myself for what I'm about to say. "The club needs your help."
Hours later, watching Kayla dress in the hated club uniform makes me want to punch walls. The scrap of black fabric barely covers her ass, the corset pushing her breasts up like an offering.
The plan is to sneak her into the apartment before her bodyguards come to retrieve her. I hate this. My stomach churns with guilt and worry as she applies makeup with hands that only tremble slightly.
"You don't have to do this," I say for the tenth time. "Say the word, and we find another way."
She meets my eyes in the mirror. "I want to do it. If this stops what happened to my brother and your sister from happening to someone else, it's worth it."
I move behind her, placing my hands on her shoulders, drawing her back against my chest. "I'll be right behind you," I promise. "Vincent Torrino will walk into that club twenty minutes after you do. I won't let you out of my sight."
"I know." She rises on her toes, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw. "Besides, this time is different."
"How?"
“Yesterday, I was alone. Scared. At their mercy." She steps back, squaring her shoulders. "Tonight I'm not alone. Tonight I'm a spy with the entire Renegade Kings MC behind me."
The words should reassure me. Instead, they make my blood run cold.
Because spies who get caught by the cartel don't just disappear—they're made examples of.
She reaches up, placing her hand over mine. "I'll be okay."
A small smile touches her lips. She straightens her shoulders, a new confidence in her stance.
Pride mingles with dread in my chest. She's stronger than she knows, this girl who's captured my heart in record time.
But if they hurt her, I'll burn that fucking club to the ground with everyone inside it.
Chapter 7
