Relief floods through me, and I nod, knowing I am crossing about a dozen moral lines and definitely the ethical lines of being an Uber driver.
But right now, I don’t care.
“Marley Wren.” And I go on giving him anything else he needs.
“I’ll have something for you in an hour.” He turns to leave, then pauses. “For what it’s worth, Nitro? I’ve known you a long damn time. You don’t do shit like this unless you’ve got a good reason. Trust your gut.”
I nod, and he turns to leave. So I get back to work on my bike, actually finishing this time. When I’m done, I head into the main clubhouse. The place is relatively quiet for a weekday afternoon. A few brothers are playing pool, and Ro’s behind the bar, chatting with Gia.
Sin and Victoria are in the Chapel, the door slightly ajar. I can see them through the gap, him at the table, her perched on the edge, their heads close together as they review something on his laptop as I approach. “Got a minute, Pres?”
Sin looks up. Victoria straightens, her cop instincts probably already picking up on whatever is written all over my face.
“Always,” Sin says. “Come on in.”
I step inside but leave the door open. Victoria’s eyes flick between Sin and me, then she slides off the Chapel table. “I’ll leave you boys to it,” she says, but not before leaning in and kissing Sin with enough heat to make me look away. When she pulls back, she stands, grins, then walks toward me with a great big smile. Then, as she reaches me, she squeezes my arm as she passes. “Whatever it is, you’ve got this.”
The door clicks shut behind her, and I turn back to find Sin watching me with those intense eyes of his. “You didn’t come in here to ask about our latest gold shipments,” he says, flipping his poker chip. “What’s going on?”
I drag a hand through my beard. “I met someone. A passenger, a few nights ago, when I was driving for Uber. She’d just been dumped, kicked out of her place. Real piece of work, ex-boyfriend. And I can’t stop thinking about whether she’s okay.”
Sin’s poker chip stills. “So you asked Ghost to run a check?”
I let out a half snort, half laugh at how he knows me so fucking well. “Yeah. I know it’s not exactly standard procedure, but—”
“You’re concerned for her safety,” Sin finishes. “That ex of hers… he dangerous?”
“I don’t know. That’s part of why I’m checking. He humiliated her, kicked her out. Who knows what else he’s capable of?” I shift my weight. “And yeah, maybe I’m also curious about her. She got under my skin somehow. One ride, and I can’t stop thinking about her. Which is, I don’t know…unusual.”
Sin sets his poker chip down, a rare gesture that means he’s taking this seriously. “What’s her name?”
“Marley Wren.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Pretty… look, I get it. Sometimes you meet someone, and your gut tells you to pay attention. Could be nothing. Could be something. But if you’re asking Ghost to dig, you’re obviously taking it seriously. Just be careful with how you handle whatever information you get. Don’t be a fucking creep. Got it?”
I laugh despite myself. “Noted.”
“And Nitro?” Sin picks up his poker chip again, studying me. “If this turns into something more than just checking in on a stranger’s safety, let me know. Club doesn’t need any complications, but if you’re going after something that matters to you, know we’ve got your back.”
“Appreciate it, Pres.”
We talk for a few more minutes about club business, supply chains, upcoming meetings, and the usual logistics, but my mind keeps drifting to Marley. To her tears. To the strength it took for her to pick herself up and move forward.
When Ghost texts me an hour later, I excuse myself and head to his den.
The tech room is Ghost’s sanctuary, monitors everywhere, servers humming, blue light casting everything in shadows. He gestures for me to come over to his main screen.
“Marley Wren,” he says, pulling up a file. “Twenty-nine years old. Works at Fletcher & Associates, a mid-sized advertising firmdowntown. Here’s the interesting part… her ex, Derek Fletcher, isn’t just her ex-boyfriend. He’s her fucking boss.”
My jaw tightens. “So she has to see that bastard every day?”
“Every. Single. Day.” Ghost clicks through more information. “He owns the house they were living in together, which explains why she got kicked out with just a bag.”
Rage builds in my chest. This asshole didn’t just dump Marley, he humiliated her, made her homeless, and now she has to face him at work, where he holds power over her career.
“What else?” I ask through gritted teeth.
Ghost pulls up more information. “Coffee shop regular. Goes to The Grind every morning at seven before work. Same order, caramel latte, extra shot, almond milk. Sometimes sits in the corner booth by the window if she is early, before heading to the office.”
