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Not now.

Not ever.

“Goddamn it!” Streak bellows from upstairs and we all turn as he comes barreling down the steps with a laptop in both hands and rage painted across his face. “I’ve got nothing!”

He throws one of the laptops against the wall and it smashes into several pieces as a few photos float to the floor. It’s so quiet that the sound bounces off the walls, taunting us from all angles as he marches over to us. Tossing the other laptop onto the table, he spins it to face us as a video begins playing. The front door to the clubhouse opens and a man dressed in all black with a hood pulled up over his head steps inside, tucking something into his pocket.

“Who forgot to lock the fucking door?” Blaze asks and I glance over my shoulder as everyone shakes their head.

“It was locked, Blaze,” Henn assures him. “Checked it myself.”

We turn back to the video as the man sets a thick stack of the photos down on one of the tables and pulls out a can of something.

“Is that glue?” I hiss, my eyes widening as he pops the top open and paints the substance inside on the back of the first photo before slapping it on the wall. We all watch in horror as he continues down the line, blanketing our clubhouse in the photos and I clench my fists as fury twists through my body. The guy is completely average, just like every other descriptions we have for him and I shake my head as I clench my teeth so hard my jaw aches.

“Please tell me you got his face,” Chance hisses, his shoulders tight and his face serious. Streak slams his fist into the table before blowing out a breath.

“No. Because three of my cameras were disabled before he ever even showed up and the others never caught an image of his face. Not once during the entire two hours he was pasting these fucking things on the walls.”

“How is that even possible?” Smith asks and Streak shakes his head and scrubs both of his hands over his hair.

“I don’t want to give the guy props but fuck, he’s good…”

My heart stops for a second and my stomach drops as we all look at each other with wide eyes and fear creeping into our gazes.

Fear for each other.

Fear for our families and fear for our club.

Holy fuck…

Who in the hell are we dealing with?