"Bold statement, considering they almost killed both of you last night." King leans forward, his expression deadly serious. "Vulture's not playing games anymore, Steel. Not after what happened when he attacked the clubhouse and we killed everyone."
"We should have finished him when we had the chance," I mutter, a rare admission of bloodthirst from me.
"Agreed. But now we're dealing with the consequences." King slides a folder across the table to me. "Tank's intel. Vulture's been recruiting again, pulling in members from smaller clubs, promising them territory and power."
I flip open the folder, scanning the information. Surveillance photos, membership estimates, weapons acquisitions. "He's rebuilding fast."
"And he's out for blood," King confirms. "Our blood, specifically. Tank's source says he's planning to pick us off one by one, away from the clubhouse. Isolated hits."
The implications are clear. "That's why he targeted me at Mercer's place. Not random."
"Exactly. You were the first on his list because you're usually alone." King's gaze is pointed. "You're the one who repairs bikes all over town. You're the one who isn't always armed to the teeth. You're vulnerable."
I bristle at the suggestion. "I can handle myself."
"I know you can. That's why you're still breathing. But Vulture will try again, and next time he might use Holly as bait."
The thought makes my stomach turn. "So, what's the plan?"
"For now, no one leaves the compound alone. All collections, all business, all repairs, everything happens with at least one other member as backup." King taps the folder. "We're also accelerating our timeline for dealing with Vulture permanently."
This catches my attention. We've been planning to eliminate the Iron Eagles completely, but logistics and timing have been complicated. "How soon?"
"Two days. Torch is finalizing the explosives. Beast and Tank are handling the ambush details. Rage is confirming Vulture's movements." King pins me with his gaze.
Frustration rises in me. "What about me? I'm benched? While everyone else risks their necks?"
"Not benched. Reassigned." King slides another folder toward me. "You're on protection detail. For the Mercers."
I stare at him, not sure whether to be relieved or insulted. "You're making me a babysitter?"
"I'm making you responsible for the civilians you brought into our war," he corrects me sharply. "The girl trusts you. The brother fears you. Use that."
I open the second folder to find details on a safe house outside of town. Remote, defensible, off the grid. "You're sending us away from the clubhouse?"
"It's safer for everyone," King explains. "If Vulture focuses his attention here, you'll be out of the line of fire. If he somehow tracks you to the safe house, the club won't be compromised."
It's logical. Strategic. And it means days alone with Holly, which sends conflicting emotions through me, anticipation and dread in equal measure.
"What about after?" I ask. "Assuming we eliminate Vulture and the Eagles. What happens to Holly and her brother then?"
"That depends. The brother still owes us money. And the sister..." He pauses. "What do you want to happen with her, Steel?"
It's a loaded question, one I'm not prepared to answer. Last night was incredible, life-changing even. But can I offer Holly anything real? Anything lasting? Do I even have the right to try, given what I am, what I've done?
"I don't know," I admit finally. "But I want her to have options. Real ones, not just running back to picking up her brother's pieces."
King nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Fair enough. For now, focus on keeping them alive until we deal with Vulture. We'll figure out the rest after."
I rise to leave, but King stops me with a raised hand. "One more thing. The brother knows too much now. About our operations and members. If he ever threatens to go to the cops again..."
He doesn't need to finish the sentence. We both know what happens to threats against the club. I nod once, acknowledging the unspoken directive.
"I'll make sure he understands," I promise.
"See that you do." King returns his attention to the papers before him. "Luna's got Holly in the kitchen. The brother's in his room, presumably nursing his wounded pride and face. You leave for the safe house at nightfall."
I head for the door, my mind already racing with preparations, but King's voice stops me one more time.
