Page 5

I let out a humorless breath, shrinking back a little as I brace myself for his reaction. “Redline Rev.”

Recognition flickers across his face—and that’s when I know just how bad this sounds out loud.

“Jesus, Tatum,” he mutters. “That’s not some small-time motherfuckers. They are bad news. We’ve been working to stop them from drug trafficking and encroaching on Portland. We’ve been monitoring them closely, but we couldn’t find who was supplying them and backing them. Every time we tried to find something, we hit a dead end. The evidence would just disappear, they’re fucking snakes.”

“I know,” I say quietly, looking at him, waiting for his rage.

His eyes snap to mine as he meets my gaze. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Tatum?”

“I didn’t have a choice—I thought I was helping build our club. I’m sorry.”

Recognition flickers in his eyes. “Don’t. Don’t fucking tell me that. I know you and tech. You were their eyes in the sky, the only person who knew what Iron Wraiths used to be. Jesus fucking Christ, Tatum. This was our family. You were raised in this club. How could you?” The hurt that flashes across his face guts me. “We couldn’t quite pin them down, and it was my own goddamn sister.” He rakes his fingers through his hair.

“It wasn’t me, Lennox. It was Eric. He double-crossed you, and he won’t be back today from his”—I use finger quotations—“family reunion. He’ll be gone for a while, if he’s not dead by the end of the day.”

Silence crashes between us, almost suffocatingly tense.

“What actually happened tonight?” he asks, voice lower now, controlled.

I hesitate, letting the silence settle between us.

Here goes nothing. We are officially at the point of no return.

“I helped the DEA take down Redline Revenant.”

The words feel unreal the second they leave my mouth. Lennox just stares at me in shock. “…You what?”

“DEA raided the clubhouse as I left with enough evidence against each officer to do at least twenty years,” I say, forcing it out before I can second-guess myself. “I shut down security. Gave them access. Timelines. Everything.”

“You—” He stops, dragging a hand down his face as he pales. “Tatum, do you have any idea what you just did?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “That’s why I’m here. If you don’t believe me, call Marcus, and have him check.”

He pulls out his phone, and the lack of trust hurts, but I stay silent. Marcus answers on the first ring. Before Lennox can get a word out, Marcus is going a hundred miles an hour. I assume he is filling Lennox in, because all the files I scheduled have hit his computer. All the evidence that went missing and more to prove Eric was double-crossing him.

I’m not stupid enough to ask for protection and not prove that I was better at my job than Eric ever could have been. Len’s eyes snap back to mine as he gets filled in. Once they stop talking, he just hangs up, dead silent.

“Does he know?”

Nicholas.

“No,” I say. “Not yet. While they can’t prove it’s me, I ran from him, and he won’t take that lightly.”

“No, he won’t.”

I nod slowly. “That’s why I need your help.”

Lennox exhales like he’s trying to process ten different disasters at once.

“Okay,” he finally agrees. “Yeah…then we’ve got a problem.”

“A problem?” I repeat, a hollow laugh escaping me. “Len, he will kill me. I was his old lady and ran.”

“I know,” he says bluntly.

“So, what do I do?” I ask.

He looks at me, really looks this time—like he’s measuring risk, options, outcomes. As if he’s already stepping into something dangerous just by letting me stand here.