“Switchback can’t die before he tells us who’s involved in this,” Bishop warns us. “I know you want to put him down, and, fuck, I want to put him down just as bad. But we gotta know.”
“Understood,” I say immediately. “We want everyone involved to bleed too.”
“What a fucking day,” Rook says, tilting his head left and right and making his neck crack. “Never thought we’d partner up with Sinners to take down our own members.”
“I never thought we’d have to take down our members,” Bishop counters. “How’d we fucking get here?”
Rook squeezes Bishop’s shoulder in solidarity, and I can’t help but think how grateful I am to have my brothers at my back and not looking to plunge a knife into it.
“I’ll call Jinx,” Rook mutters, tapping on his phone.
“You need backup?” a smooth voice asks after the first ring.
“Maybe,” the Forsaken VP answers. “But not because of the Sinners. You got eyes on Switchback?”
“Switch?” Jinx echoes, the confusion in his voice clear as day. “He went up to his cabin, saying he’s clearly not needed tonight.”
Rook rolls his eyes. “A traitor and a drama queen.”
A moment of stunned silence.
“Traitor? What the fuck is going on, Rook?”
The Forsaken take a minute to bring their road captain up to speed, letting us listen in. It goes a long way to show me this isn’t some game to get us to drop our guard.
“I’ll meet you there,” Jinx says, his voice a low growl. “I wanna help root this shit out.”
“You’re in, brother,” Bishop replies. “Just keep it on the lowdown until we figure out who else is in on it.”
“You got it.”
“Alright,” I say once we hang up. “I can call my men in as backup? Who knows how many more chumps like the one Vike took down Switchback has at that cabin.
Bishop nods after a second of consideration. “Let’s get this done.”
23
HAVOC
Iswing onto my Low Rider, the familiar weight of it grounding me as I kick it alive. The vibration travels up my spine, settling something restless inside my chest. Diesel pulls up beside me, and across from us, Bishop and Rook mount their bikes.
For a second, we just sit there.
Two clubs. One road. Same direction.
Didn’t think I’d live to see the day.
“Let’s ride,” I mutter.
We tear down the blacktop in a tight formation—Diesel at my side, the Forsaken just ahead. It’s not long until my brothers join us, filing in behind us.
The sky is bleeding out the last of dusk, that deep indigo giving way to night. Out here, away from town, there’s nothing but winding roads, dense woods, and the occasional flicker of porch lights in the distance. The wind whips against my face, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. My headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating cracked asphalt and roadkill we swerve around without thinking.
Bishop said Switchback’s cabin is twenty minutes out. Jinx should be waiting when we get there, seeing as he’s closer to it than we are.
I keep my eyes moving. Tree line. Ditches. Driveways. Looking for anything out of place.
After what feels like forever, we turn off the main road onto a narrower stretch. Gravel crunches under our tires as we slow just enough not to wipe out.
