That stopped him.
JD glanced upstairs.
Destiny.
“You go old-school on these families, Destiny pays. You fake evidence badly, Destiny pays. You threaten the wrong kid, Destiny pays. You put a hand on a parent, Destiny pays. Everything you do from this second on either protects her or becomes Exhibit A.”
The words landed like hammer blows.
I watched Edge absorb them.
Not like a man agreeing.
Like a man forcing himself not to kill the truth just because it hurt.
Regan reached him at the bottom of the stairs and slid her hand into his.
He held on hard.
“What do we do?” she asked.
JD took one breath.
That was when the room changed.
Fear became plan.
Panic became movement.
“First, the bike disappears properly,” JD said. “Not hidden in a shed. Not wiped down by a prospect with a towel and a prayer. It comes back here clean, repaired enough not to scream wreck, polished, parked in Edge’s garage like it never left. If cops get a warrant, they find a bike that hasn’t been hot, hasn’t been near brush, and hasn’t been handled by a bleeding teenager.”
Hacker lifted his head. “If they get a warrant, they can test?—”
“I know what they can test,” JD said. “That’s why no one touches it stupidly. Get someone who knows what they’re doing.”
Callum said, “My men are with Tarak.”
“Good.”
JD turned to Edge. “Second, Destiny cannot stay here.”
Regan’s hand tightened around Edge’s.
“No,” Edge said.
“Yes,” JD said.
“My daughter is not leaving my sight.”
“She has to leave the clubhouse.”
“No.”
“Edge.”
“I said no.”
JD stepped closer. “They’ll look here first. Cops, lawyers, parents, reporters if this leaks. This place is the obvious center of her world. If she stays here and someone gets eyes on her injured, your Cabo story dies before it breathes.”
