Roadkill had one hand in his hair; fingers pressed to his scalp like he could push the worry out. Snake Eyes stared at the table and blinked slowly. Voodoo crossed himself in a lazy, half-sarcastic way, then did it again more seriously.
My chest felt tight. Miami’s empty chair was a neon sign now, a blinking warning light. Ikept seeing him laughing on that blacked-out bike, head tipped back, that idiot grin on his face like he was untouchable. Now he was somewhere under hospital lights with strangers cutting him open or doing who fucking knows what.Alone.
“What about Quinn?” Mirage asked quietly. “Someone needs to tell her.”
“Not yet,” Blackjack said. His voice was rough but steady. “Not until we know if she’s getting a bedside or a goodbye.”
It was brutal, but it was true. Telling Quinn too early would just set her on fire, and there was already too much burning going on in all of us. No reason to throw her into the mix too.
Ace shifted the pen between his fingers. “Prez… how was he even that far north?” he asked. “Redline’s south. He texted he was there.”
“Maybe they moved him,” Roadkill said. “Closest trauma center, maybe the ambulance… I don’t know.”
I shook my head. “If they scooped him near Redline, he would’ve gone to Memorial,” I said. “Shoreline’s farther, and it’s up past the line. They don’t cross districts unless they’re closer. Or unless he was already near there.”
Blackjack’s eyes came back into focus and pinned me. “Say it straight, Jersey,” he said.
“He left Redline,” I said. “He had to. You told him to sit tight. He didn’t. That means he felt something. He wouldn’t blow off a direct orderfrom you just for a joyride.”
“Maybe he sniffed out a tail,” Snake Eyes murmured.
“Maybe he sniffed out something in that bike,” Spade jumped in. “Something that made him want it farther from home.”
“Or closer to somewhere else,” Mirage said.
Turnpike cleared his throat. He rarely spoke in Church unless directly asked, but his brow was furrowed hard now. “We got that other spot up that way, right?” he said. “Off the grid. The one with the shitty little cinderblock garage. You sent me there once with Roadkill to stash that Charger once a long time ago.”
“The north site,” I said.
Blackjack’s head turned slowly toward the prospects’ bench. Any other MC wouldn’t allow their prospects into church unless patched in. Blackjack was different. He considered their opinions and weighed them just like everyone else. “Who else in this room knows that place?” he asked.
“Me,” Roadkill said. “Mirage. Ace. Spade. Snake Eyes. Miami. Voodoo. Jabs. You, 8-Ball. Jersey. That’s it.”
“Nobody else,” Mirage added. “No family. No old ladies. No friends.”
“Now Jackal, Badger, and Raptor too,” Spade said.
Blackjack nodded once, mind already racing. “If he was headed for Shore Viper country,” he said, “he was probably aiming for that site. North side’s closer to their line. Quieter. Less eyes. If he felt Redline wasn’t safe, that’s where he’d go.”
The idea that Miami hadn’t just randomly wrecked, that he’d made a call, a choice, calmed something in me and twisted something else.
“He thought he was protecting us,” I said. “And the bike.”
Spade’s jaw clenched. “Or he thought the storm was coming to Redline and he didn’t want to be in the doorway when it hit.”
Snake Eyes blew out a breath. “I told you I had a bad feeling about this,” he said.
Spade shot him a look. “You always have a bad feeling.”
“Clock’s right twice a day,” Snake Eyes replied.
Blackjack slammed his palm down, not hard but final. “Enough,” he said. “Speculation is just us scaring ourselves for free. Facts. Miami took the bike from Redline toward the north site, somewhere between there and Viper turf he went down, and now he’s at Shoreline General.”
Ace scratched one last note and set his pen aside. “So, what’s the move?” he asked.
“We finish Church,” Blackjack said. “Then we start making moves.”
He straightened in his chair, turned his gaze on us one by one. “Nothing we said about the bike changes,” he said. “It stays ours until we’re paid in full. We keep our mouths shut about what happened tonight until I talk to Roman. You don’t mention Steel Serpents, drops, or wrecks to anyone who isn’t sitting in this room. Prospects included.”
