Perdition’s not a clean town. We all know that. But we keep our streets in line. The Iron Reapers don’t deal. Not now. Not ever. It’s a hard line we don’t cross. Drugs creeping in under our noses? That’s a problem.
“What’s the source?” I ask.
“Not local,” Switch replies, tapping his finger against his beer bottle. “The stuff’s too pure. Not cut with the usual garbage. New pipeline. Someone with real money backing it.”
Rev nods. “And it’s not a one off situation. It’s spreading. High school. College. Even some middle aged idiots trying to relive their glory days. Whatever they’re pushing is strong.”
Switch rubs his jaw. “Three arrests last week. Sheriff’s department is scrambling. They’re understaffed. And corrupt. Half the time, they show up late. The other half, they look the other way if there’s cash involved.”
“Let me guess,” I say. “College kids?”
Rev eyes me. “Yeah. You noticed, then.”
I lean back. “I’ve been seeing the same group rolling into Perdition every weekend. Loud. Entitled. Throwing money around. Acting like they own the place.”
Switch gives a humorless laugh. “Rich kids with daddy’s trust funds who think they’re untouchable. Yeah. That group.”
“They’re runners,” I say.
Rev’s gaze sharpens. “Exactly what I thought.”
“Testing us,” I add. “Seeing how far they can push without getting checked.”
“Whose territory are they bouncing from?” Switch asks. “Not Black Vipers. They move different. Rage Crew’s been quiet.”
“No patches,” I say. “No visible backup. Someone’s using them to feel out new ground.”
Rev’s expression turns dark. “Someone stupid or someone who thinks we’re soft.”
We all know the answer.
Neither is good.
Switch takes a long drink. “Mason knows. He’s got eyes on it. The cops won’t do anything unless someone drops dead in the middle of Main Street. And even then, they’ll blame the user.”
I grind my teeth. “Kids are dying.”
“And more will,” Rev says. His voice is flat. “If we don’t shut it down.”
Most people don’t get us. They see bikers and MCs and assume we’re nothing but dangerous men who lurk in shadows and wear our sins like armor. They think it’s all guns and women and illegal deals. Truth is, we do run some of that, and we don’t pretend otherwise, but drugs aren’t on our menu. That line isn’t blurry. It’s concrete. Drugs kill kids and mothers and entire families. Every one of us has lost someone because of that poison, and we’ll be damned before we let it take root in our streets.
“You think they’ll try pushing in Perdition again?” I ask.
Switch shrugs. “If they’re stupid.”
Rev lifts his beer. “Young ones are always stupid.”
Silence settles between us, thick and heavy, like the air’s holding its breath and waiting for something to snap. The front door creaks open before anyone can answer, and voices carry in from the entryway.
I hear her before I see her. Light. Warm. A spark that hits dead center. “Hey. I come bearing cupcakes instead of actual cooking skills. You’re welcome.”
Bella laughs. “God bless you. We needed something sweet.”
I look automatically. Of course I do.
She walks in with a bakery box, cheeks flushed from the cold, dark hair styled in soft waves that probably took more effort than she’ll admit. She wears a fitted shirt, jeans, and boots. Nothing flashy. Nothing dramatic. Yet every inch of her demands attention without trying. My jaw tightens before I can stop it. She hasn’t looked like a kid in a long time, and I shouldn’t be staring. She’s Bella’s little sister. Younger. Bright. Hopeful. The kind of woman who deserves someone who isn’t covered in scars, inside and out.
Bella grins at us. “Wow. I leave you three alone for five minutes, and you already look like trouble.”
