Ava's hand tightens on my arm. "Mason, I'm so sorry."
"Don't be. Sorry doesn't bring her back. But making sure it doesn't happen to other girls? That does something." I look down at her hand, still touching me, and feel the old rage stirring in my chest. "You're investigating the same kind of monsters who took Elena. So yeah, I'm helping you. Someone should've helped her, and they didn't."
Cara would understand this part if I ever said it out loud. She turns pain into purpose like it’s oxygen. But I don’t share my ghosts; not with the club, not with the women, not with anyone, except Vulture. Until Ava.
The silence stretches between us, heavy with shared grief and understanding. Then Ava does something unexpected. She steps closer and wraps her arms around me, pressing her face against my chest.
It's not sexual. Not romantic. Just human, offering comfort in the only way she knows how.
I freeze, every instinct screaming at me to pull away, to maintain distance, to not let this woman under my skin any more than she already is. But my arms come up anyway, circling her shoulders, holding her against me while she holds me back.
"We'll get them," she whispers against my leather cut. "The Reapers, the traffickers, whoever's pulling the strings. We'll expose all of it."
"Yeah," I say, my voice rougher than I intend. "We will."
She pulls back first, stepping out of my embrace with a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you for telling me about Elena."
"Don't mention it. Seriously. The club doesn't know that story, and I'd like to keep it that way."
"Your secret's safe with me." She makes a crossing motion over her heart. "Scout's honor."
"You were never a scout."
"How do you know?"
"Because scouts follow rules, and you break them every chance you get."
That earns me a real smile, bright and genuine despite the bruises. "Fair point."
I leave before I do something stupid like stay, I head back downstairs where more brothers are starting to filter in for breakfast. Zip's at the bar arguing with Sterling about something, their voices carrying across the room. Hustler, our treasurer, is hunched over a laptop at one of the tables, probably running numbers on our latest gun shipment.
The prospects hover at the edges: Dynamite refilling coffee, Gull wiping down tables like the world depends on it, and Digger’s getting razzed for doing it wrong.
And in the far corner, Cara’s at a table with two women I don’t recognize, both of them quiet, guarded, like they’re still learning how to exist without flinching. Cara’s voice is calm, steady. The kind of steady that saves lives.
Vulture catches my eye from across the room and jerks his head toward the hallway that leads to his office. I follow, knowing this conversation's been coming since we pulled into the compound.
His office is sparse, but functional. There’s a desk, filing cabinets, and a wall of monitors showing security feeds fromaround the property. He drops into his chair and pins me with a look that's seen through too much bullshit to be fooled by mine.
"Tell me you know what you're doing," he says without preamble.
"I know what I'm doing."
"Do you? Because from where I'm sitting, you just brought a civilian reporter into our clubhouse, claimed protection over her in front of the brothers, and judging by the way you're standing right now, you're about five seconds from doing something that'll complicate this situation even more."
I force my shoulders to relax, unclenching fists I didn't realize I'd made. "She's got information we need. Intel on the Reapers' operation, connections to their suppliers, maybe even names of the buyers. That's worth the risk."
"Is it? Or is this about something else?" Vulture leans forward, elbows on his desk. "You told her about Elena."
My blood runs cold. "How the hell do you know that?"
"Because I know you. And I saw the way you looked when you came downstairs just now. Like someone opened an old wound and you're trying not to bleed all over the floor." He pauses, letting that sink in. "This isn't about the club, Mason. This is personal."
"So what if it is? The end result's the same. We take down the Reapers, expose their trafficking operation, and make damn sure they can't hurt anyone else."
"And if Ava gets caught in the crossfire? If she ends up dead because we used her to get to them?"
"That won't happen."
