I crossed to the hazardous disposal bin slowly, each step pulling at the wound in my side while my pulse beat too hard beneath the bandage. The container sat tucked where it always was, white plastic marked with warning labels. I put on gloves, then opened it carefully and shifted through what I could without making a mess, already knowing what I was going to find before I saw it. The phone sat beneath discarded gauze and torn packaging—a secret Tripp had tried to bury in a hurry.
Prospects with nothing to hide didn’t ditch expensive encrypted devices in medical waste and walk out pretending nothing had happened. I wiped the phone down, turned it over in my hand, and studied every inch of it. The more I looked, the worse it got.
The security features weren’t standard, the operating system wasn’t standard, and even the lock screen layout looked different from anything sold commercially. My instincts had already given me the answer, but I needed proof.
So I took it to Jax.
Screens glowed across the walls, casting blue-white light over his face when he looked up from his desk and adjusted his black-rimmed glasses. He took one look at the phone in my hand, and whatever smart-ass comment had been sitting on his tongue died before it made it out. That alone told me plenty.
He didn’t ask unnecessary questions, just took the device when I held it out and plugged it into one of his systems. Thenhe went to work with the focused silence he got when something interested him and pissed him off at the same time.
I stood behind him with one hand braced against the back of one of the chairs in front of his desk, feeling the pull in my side and the steady throb beneath the bandage while lines of code and security prompts moved across his multiple screens too fast for anyone but Jax to follow. His fingers flew over the keyboard, his mouth flattening more with every layer he peeled back.
Less than an hour later, he confirmed every fear I’d been trying not to entertain. The device carried federal encryption, software, and hardware identifiers buried deep enough that most people would never have known where to look. Jax found them anyway.
By the time he leaned back in his chair and looked at me, his expression had gone grim in a way I didn’t see often. “It’s FBI-issued.”
The words hit me harder than the damn blade to my side.
Not only because Tripp was a fed. That was enough on its own. But for me, the badge behind the lie was only part of what twisted the knife. What really gutted me was the rest of it—the friendship we’d built, the trust I’d handed him, and every memory that suddenly felt poisoned in my head. All the nights after races when we’d leaned against bikes with beers in our hands, talking shit and laughing until our throats got rough. All the times he’d shown up when asked, watched our backs, and taken orders without complaint. All the moments that had looked like loyalty until the truth changed the angle.
That was the part I couldn’t reconcile. Tripp had cared. I knew he had, which only made the betrayal uglier.
Looking back, there were too many examples not to see it. The raid. The warnings. The situations where he’d nudged us away from trouble instead of toward it. Time after time, he’d acted like a man trying to minimize damage rather thanmaximize it. Seemed like he was investigating the club while doing everything he could to keep collateral damage from landing on men he’d started to think of as family.
Maybe that should’ve mattered. It might even make a difference for Kane or my other brothers.
Not to me.
Because none of it changed what he’d done. While we’d been calling him brother, he’d been standing inside our walls with federal equipment in his pocket and a lie behind his eyes. He’d laughed with us, worked beside us, bled with us, and still planned to help build a case when the time came. Whether he’d drawn lines for himself or convinced himself he was protecting us from worse didn’t erase the fact that every moment of trust had been built on a foundation he knew was rotten.
The anger was bad enough, but the guilt dug deeper. As secretary, prospects were part of my responsibility. I was supposed to protect the Kings from exactly this kind of fuckup, and instead, I’d been the one who brought Tripp into our world. I’d vouched for him and helped open the door he’d walked through with a lie tucked under his cut.
The confirmed truth burning through every suspicion I’d tried to hold at a distance. The clubhouse felt different around me now, every familiar sound heightened by the weight of what I knew. But all of it seemed distant beneath the roar of anger in my blood.
I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Kane.
Me
Need to talk. ASAP.
The reply came a few seconds later.
Prez
Office.
I shoved the phone back into my pocket and started down the hallway, my side aching with every step and my jaw locked tight enough to make my teeth hurt. I didn’t know what would happen once I put the phone on Kane’s desk and told him exactly what Jax had found, but I knew one thing for damn sure. Tripp’s days were numbered. He might not lose his life, but I’d make damn fucking sure he regretted every moment of his lie.
2
BLITZ
Edge and Kane were already waiting in Kane’s office by the time I stepped inside. The heavy oak door closed solidly behind me, and I immediately felt the weight of their attention as I crossed the familiar room. Kane sat behind his massive walnut desk, seeing far more than he revealed. Edge leaned against the wall nearby, flipping a knife idly between his fingers, his green eyes locked firmly on me, and his movie star-worthy smile nowhere to be seen.
I drew a slow breath, forcing myself to keep calm as I took the empty chair across from Kane. Without preamble, I laid everything out clearly. Each detail about Tripp’s betrayal was carefully outlined, concise yet thorough enough that they fully understood the gravity of the situation.
“The FBI must have created a background for him that was mostly true so that he wouldn’t have to lie as much. Or more likely, because they knew that if Jax started pulling at a thread, it wasn’t gonna hold up to his skill. Probably only removed the shit that pointed to a career in law enforcement.”
