Riot cracked his knuckles. “I like the sound of that.” He glanced at us, caught the flicker of understanding but smirked and looked away.
“Lucy is going to try to get us more intel.”
Link added, “Divide and conquer. Hit hard, hit smart.” His eyes flicked towards Lucy then back to the table.
“We’re not just reclaiming what’s ours,” I said, “we’re sending a message. Anyone who betrays the Dead Knights or crosses us will pay.”
I let the silence linger, letting my gaze stay locked on hers. She leaned slightly forward, shoulder brushing mine. Enough for her warmth to seep in, unnoticed by anyone else. She didn’t pull away. I didn’t want her to.
I stole one more glance at Lucy. Fire flickered in her eyes, tempered with resolve. My fingers brushed hers one last time under the table. She held my gaze, steady. For a heartbeat, the tension between us was alive, raw, and unspoken.
Whatever came next, it wasn’t simply about territory. It was about trust, survival, and the tether that bound us tighter than any war could sever. Even there, in the thick of planning and danger, the quiet, stolen touches reminded me what I was fighting for and why I couldn’t let go.
Chapter 48
Lucy
Jay trusted me to get what he needed. After the fire, the kidnapping, and everything else, I was no longer a passenger in the ride. I was a part of the engine, and I wasn’t about to stall.
I sat alone at the bar, which was cluttered with half-empty bottles and scribbled notes, scrolling through messages on my burner phone.
I hadn’t told Jay about my family. Not then. Maybe never. They were the reason I could get answers before anyone else—old money, old grudges, and a reach that stretched far beyond our little town. When I sent a message, word travelled fast, sometimes faster than the police could blink. Underworld favours, bought and owed, moved in hours. Mafia, shadow networks were some of the things Caleb had tried to keep me away from. But bloodlines don’t forgive, and they don’t forget.
I clenched my fists thinking about those endless nights, quiet threats over expensive dinners, whispers behind locked doors, deals made in shadows where lives were just another commodity. That world was all about power and enemies. It was everything I’d fled and hoped never to be a part of ever again. I’dkept the burner to remind me of the life I’d been born into, but never fit, never wanted.
My fingers danced over the cracked screen of my phone, each tap echoing like a countdown. The contacts weren’t easy to reach. The underworld trusted only those with blood ties, long memories, and zero tolerance for mistakes. That’s why I was their wildcard.
First, a text to Marco, the one who moved guns quietly through the outskirts. A code phrase, and within the hour, a reply: “Meet. East side docks. Midnight. Alone.”
No time for second guesses. I double checked the pistol in my jacket, then slipped into the night, through the back door. I couldn’t risk taking Jay, Marco didn’t trust others, I was lucky he was talking to me.
The docks were a maze of containers and creaking cranes. Marco appeared like a ghost from behind a stack of crates, lean, watchful, his eyes sharp.
“We know the Fangs are moving a shipment,” he whispered. “Two days. Big run, enough to tip the scales. If the club hits them before that, they cut off their power for good.”
“Where exactly?” I asked.
He held out a map; his finger traced a spot illuminated by my phone. “Abandoned rail yard outside town. Heavy security. But they’re sloppy, Fangs always are when they think they’re winning.”
I felt the familiar rush, the dangerous edge of information that could save or destroy lives.
“Thank you.”
“Be safe, Lucy,” Marco murmured before melting back into the shadows.
I got into my car, locked the doors, and picked up my phone, wincing at the number of missed calls from Jay. I hesitated for a heartbeat, then dialled.
The moment he answered, fury cracked through the line. “Lucy, where the fuck are you? You left the clubhouse, alone... What the hell were you thinking?”
“Jay—”
“Don’t youdaregive me excuses,” he snapped, voice like broken glass. “You think you’re smarter than the whole goddamn club? You think running off makes you a hero? Jesus, Luce, you could’ve gotten yourself killed, and for what?”
“I’ve got intel,” I shot back, cutting him off before he could keep yelling. “Fangs’ next drop, rail yard, two days from now. Heavy guard, but we’ve got a shot to take them down before they move the shipment.”
“Intel?” His laugh was sharp and humourless. “You risked your life to play detective? Do you even hear yourself? You’re not patched, you’re not trained, you’re a liability the second you pull crap like this.”
“I’m not your goddamn liability,” I snapped. “I was a Kane before I was ever your problem. You think I’m gonna sit back while you and your brothers make all the calls? Screw that. Ihavecontacts. Icando this. You don’t get to tell me otherwise.”
