Ignoring him, I gave Cerberus one more pat, then glared at him.
He huffed before lumbering over to his dog bed by King’s desk and settling back down.
When I lifted my gaze to King again, business settled back over me like armor.
Blaze raised his brow at my change in demeanor. “You look like someone kicked your favorite jet. Must be a real shit show.”
“Close enough.” I shut the door behind me and moved to one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Got a situation. I need the club’s protection for someone.”
King leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest as he assessed me with quiet intensity. “Who?”
“Her name’s Linden Holbrook. She’s a data archivist at Aegis Aerospace Systems.” I paused and gave Blaze a knowing look. “And Carson Holbrook’s little sister.”
I’d told them about the crash shortly after it happened.
Blaze whistled low. “Holbrook? The test pilot who went down last year?”
“The very one,” I replied, my tone flat.
King’s expression had hardened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Pilot for the same program?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed, a muscle in my jaw jumping. “Different birds, though.”
Blaze walked to the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. After taking a sip, he murmured, “Holbrook’s crash was labeled as mechanical failure, right?”
I nodded. “That was the official story.”
King raised a brow. “Official?”
My mouth tightened as I weighed my options, trying to decide whether to break my NDA. But it only took one heartbeat to make the decision. From the moment I met Linden, she’d become my priority. “Internally, we were told pilot error.”
“Shit,” Blaze grunted. “Which story is the truth?”
“Well, that’s where Linden gets tangled up in this fucking mess. She stumbled onto something at Aegis. Found discrepancies in classified flight logs, including one tied directly to her brother’s death.”
“Cover-up?” King surmised.
“Classified lies,” Blaze scoffed.
“Exactly. She flagged it for her supervisor, and now, she’s being watched. My gut says someone tied to this program got nervous she might dig deeper, and whoever they are, they want to bury it.”
Blaze’s eyes darkened with quiet understanding. “That’s why they’re tailing her. She’s become a liability.”
“She was almost run her down in the parking lot outside her apartment tonight,” I confirmed.
Blaze cursed quietly. “The fuck kind of hornet’s nest did she kick?”
“One that kills to cover its tracks.” I forced myself to remain calm, though the idea of anyone hurting Linden had my blood boiling. “She needs protection. I moved her into the clubhouse tonight after she called me. Told her she’ll stay put until we sort this, but I need the club’s backing to handle the situation properly.”
My body was rigid with tension as I waited for King’s verdict. Without his approval, I'd have to handle this alone. King’s word was law here—he held tight control over every aspect of club operations. Some would call his approach obsessive, but I saw it differently. By requiring every decision to flow through him, our prez made sure any consequences fell directly on his shoulders, while we all shared every victory.
He'd never forced our loyalty. He'd proven himself worthy of it time and again. We trusted him completely, knowing without question that he’d always have our backs. Because of the trust between us, King allowed us the freedom and independence we needed in critical situations. He had an instinct for recognizing when one of us required space and autonomy to handle our own shit. It wasn’t just about giving us room—it was his way of silently communicating his belief in us. That quiet confidence strengthened the entire club, making us more capable, effective, and united.
After a minute filled with loaded silence, King leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I agree. Club’ll have her back. Get Wizard in the loop. Bring him everything you know. Names, details, discrepancies. If there’s smoke, he’ll find the fire.”
I nodded once. “On it.”
