We drove in silence, headlights glaring through the dark. The motel loomed at the edge of the district, paint peeling, neon buzzing like a dying firefly. Decent enough but built for secrets. Or for burying them.
I killed the lights, parking behind the building, out of view. Old habits died hard.
“You sure it’s still there?” I asked.
“Unless someone else found it, but it’s hidden deep.”
We moved fast, quiet. My hand hovered near the Glock at my waistband. Too quiet, too still, my survival instincts were screaming.
“Wait, me first.” I stepped in, blocking her, gun sweeping the room. Corners, bathroom, closet, all empty.
“All clear.”
She slipped past, kneeling at the bed and prying the floorboard loose. Hollow knocks echoed. “Got it.”
She pulled out the box Caleb had left her and grabbed at photos, papers, and the thumb drive. I crouched beside her, flipping through the contents.
Photos of Gage with the Fangs. Some showed cash changing hands. Meeting spots, GPS hits, same places our shipments had vanished.
My gut dropped. It wasn’t smoke—it was Caleb, from the grave, helping me and having my back like he always had.
She watched me, waiting. For denial maybe, or for me to tell her it was fake.
I sank onto the bed, elbows on my knees, gripping the file like it might disappear. “Jesus... Gage.”
She sat beside me, quiet, with her hand on my thigh.
“I trusted him,” I whispered. “Through everything. My brothers trusted him too.”
“And he sold you out,” she said.
I nodded, jaw tight and aching. “Yeah. Looks like it.”
I looked at her, saw the pain in her eyes, the worry. I wasn’t used to someone worrying about me, not someone like her.
“You didn’t have to show me this,” I said. “Could’ve kept it for leverage.”
“I’m not playing a game, Jay.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I didn’t lie about this,” she said, her voice softened. “And I didn’t lie about wanting you tonight.”
My heart jolted, sharp and dangerous. I stood, pacing, needing space, air. Fuck, I wanted her too. Wanted her more than was safe for her, me, or the club.
Her eyes followed me, but she stayed on the bed. “What happens now?”
I turned, file still in my hands, the weight of it heavier than any gun.
“Now? Now, we burn the fucking house down.”
Lucy yawned, loud and unguarded. Tiredness shadowed her eyes, her shoulders slumping like she’d been fighting sleepless nights same as me.
“But we can burn it all down in the morning,” I said, voice softer than I’d ever let it be. “Sleep for now.”
I pulled out my phone, thumb hovering before I texted Riot about the evidence.
“What about you?” she asked, curling into the bed, still fully dressed but kicking her boots free.
