Chapter Eleven
L egend
I wake up with Braelynn curled against my side, her arm thrown over my middle in sleep. Having this—her and Ryder—is something I never knew I needed. Closing my eyes, I breathe her in, allowing myself the moment to bask in this peace she gives me.
Before I’m ready, the reality of the threat swirling around us comes crashing back in.
We’ve got work to do.
“Brae,” I murmur, gently running my hand over her shoulder. “Time to get up, baby.”
She stirs, those hazel eyes blinking open. “Already?”
“Yeah. We need to see Dex.”
She nods, instantly alert.
That's one of the things I admire about her—how quickly she can switch gears.
Brae stretches her arms over her head and the tee she’s wearing rises. She giggles, and my eyes snap up. “You have a one-track mind, babe.”
“You can hardly blame me. Look at you.”
Her cheeks turn pink.
“I need to get Ry up and fed if we’re going to get to the clubhouse on time.”
I blow out a breath. She’s right.
“Later,” I promise, dropping a kiss on her smiling lips before climbing out of bed.
In no time, we're heading to the clubhouse, Ryder secure in his carrier.
The compound is quiet when we arrive, but I know Dex will be up. The man is nocturnal when he's working on something.
I lead Brae down the stairs to Dex’s lair, noting the look on her face when we get to the vault door. “Wow.”
I chuckle as I look up to the security camera aimed at us and give it two middle fingers.
“What are you—” Before she can finish her question, the click of the door unlocking cuts her off.
“You guys are so strange,” Brae mumbles under her breath.
I chuckle and push open the door. Brae follows me inside, and I watch her reaction. Dex’s domain is quite the sight to see.
The concrete cavern is reinforced with steel. A catwalk-like platform takes up the entire back wall and is lined with monitors.
“This is impressive.” Brae looks up at me, her brows lifted.
It is.
“Just don’t touch anything.” I squeeze her hand gently to soften the warning. Dex is particular about his things.
Leading her up the steps, we find Dex at his desk surrounded by empty energy drink cans.
“Dex.”
He swivels in his chair, bloodshot eyes focusing on us.
“Legend, Braelynn,” he greets, his voice rough, no doubt from the lack of sleep. “What are you guys doing here at the ass-crack of dawn?”
I exchange a glance with Braelynn before speaking. “It’s ten.”
Dex's eyebrows shoot up. “Shit. Time got away from me.” He spins back around and sweeps his arm across his workspace, sending all the trash into a bin at the edge of his desk.
That’s convenient.
Braelynn steps around me. “I found some information that links Turner to known criminals here in Miami.”
Dex glances over his shoulder, his expression hard to read. “I found the same thing when I dug into his financials,” he says, cracking his knuckles. He brings us up to speed with what he’s found, which unsurprisingly is a whole hell of a lot more.
“I'll keep digging,” he promises. “But this isn't going to be easy. Turner's smart—he’s got to have contingency plans for if shit hits the fan.”
“Do what you can,” I tell him. “We'll keep working on our end.”
As we leave the tech room, I feel a sense of apprehension. This is a dangerous game we're playing, but there isn’t another choice. Turner's made it clear he won't stop until he's destroyed everything I care about.
Back in our temporary home on the compound, Braelynn and I spread out the files we've collected while Ryder naps in his playpen, giving us a chance to focus.
“Look at this,” Braelynn says, pointing to a document. “Turner's been involved in several cases where key evidence mysteriously disappeared. And each time, it benefited the defendant.”
I lean in, reading over the information she’s found. “Good catch, baby. This is exactly what we need.”
As we continue to dig, I can't help but feel a sense of pride at how sharp Braelynn is at all of this. She's piecing things together faster than I ever could. But more than that, I'm in awe of how seamlessly she's adapted to this life.
“What are you thinking?” she asks, catching me staring.
I shake my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Just wondering how I got so lucky.”
A blush colors her cheeks, but her eyes are serious when she says, “We’re both lucky.”
I reach out, cupping her face in my hand. “I’m glad you think that because I’m never letting you go.”
Her eyes close.
We stay like this for long moments until her green eyes slowly open, and a smile tips up at the corner of her lips. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
She may think that I’m only kidding around about never letting her go, but I’m not. Now that I’ve had a taste of the good life with Brae and my son, there’s no way in hell I’ll ever let it go.
Dropping my hand, I peck my baby’s upturned lips and pull away. There’s still a lot more work to do.
For the next few hours, we pore over the files, cross-referencing dates and names. It's tedious work, but necessary, and by mid-afternoon, we've built a solid case against Turner, linking him to at least a dozen instances of evidence tampering and obstruction of justice.
“I need to take this to the table,” I say, gathering up our findings. “I need to know how to proceed without bringing any unwanted attention back on us. The last thing we need is any fallout.”
Braelynn nods, her face set with determination. “I'm coming with you.”
I want to argue, to keep her safe and away from club business. But I know better. This is her fight too, and she's earned her place. As much as I know this to be true, that’s not how this is going to play out.
After dropping Ryder off at Sparrow’s house with Sierra, we head to the clubhouse
Before we go inside, I stop and turn Brae so we’re face to face. “I need to talk to you about something before we go inside,” I say, my voice gentle.
She looks at me, confusion in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I take a deep breath. “You won’t be allowed in church. Club rules. No women are allowed. I know you've been instrumental in uncovering all this evidence, and I couldn't have done it without you, but from this point on, the decisions that have to be made are the club’s.”
I see the disappointment flash across her face, but to her credit, she nods in understanding. “You’re joking, right?”
“Afraid not, baby.”
Her arms cross over her chest. “This is bullshit, and you know it.”
“It might be, but it’s how it is.” She can be mad, but it won’t change anything. Club rules are club rules.
She looks away, sighing heavily. “Fine. But I don’t want to be kept in the dark either.”
That I can give her. “You won’t be,” I promise, squeezing her hand.
She turns back, her eyes locking on mine. “I trust you.”
“Fuck.” Smashing my lips to hers, I send up thanks to the gods for bringing her back to me.
After a long, heated kiss, I lead her inside. “Wait for me here. I'll fill you in on everything as soon as we're done.”
With one more quick kiss, I leave her in the common room and head down the hall to the meeting room. I find Viper and Sparrow inside, going over some paperwork. They look up as I enter.
“You got a minute?”
“Yeah,” Viper motions to the vacant seat beside him. “What's going on?”
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “This situation with Turner. It's worse than I thought.”
“Go on,” Sparrow motions for me to continue.
For the next half hour, I lay out everything Braelynn and I have discovered. I show them the evidence of Turner's corruption, his ties to half of the criminals in the city, and the extent of his vendetta against me and the club.
When I finish, a heavy silence fills the room. Viper's face is a mask of controlled anger, while Sparrow looks troubled.
“This is serious shit,” Sparrow finally says. “If Turner's got his hooks in this deep, we could be looking at a full-scale war.”
Viper nods, his eyes dark. “We need to handle this carefully.”
“What do you suggest?” I ask, tension coiling in my gut.
Viper stands, pacing the length of the room. “We take him out.”
Sparrow chuckles darkly, the sound sending a chill up my spine. “Always quick to feed someone to my gator.”
Viper narrows his eyes. “It fucking works.”
Sparrow nods his head nonchalantly. “That it does.”
Viper shakes his head at the Veep before training his eyes on me. “Give us a few days and we’ll handle it.”
My brows shoot up. “That fucking easy?” Not that I’m complaining because Turner has been a pain in my goddamn side since our first meeting. Everywhere I go outside of these gates, the asshole always seems to be there—watching, like he’s waiting for something.
Now it’s my turn to feel the wrath of his pissed-off gaze. “Yeah. That fucking easy.” As much that has changed in the last year, I’m glad to see the rabid fucking badger of a man has stayed the same.
“He’s a fucking peach, huh?” Sparrow laughs, not the least bit phased by Viper’s surliness.
My lips twitch as my hands go up. I’m not touching that comment with a ten-foot pole. “My bad, Prez.”
“Damn fucking right. Now get the fuck out of here.”
The sound of Sparrow laughing follows me out the door where I find Braelynn waiting anxiously. There are a million questions in her eyes, but I won’t be able to tell her the truth. “Let's take a walk,” I say, putting my arm around her. On the way home, I try to gently explain that there are some things when it comes to the club and the decisions made behind church doors that she will never know about. I expect a fight, but to my surprise, she accepts the way things are.
We're almost back to our place when I see a car I don't recognize parked near the compound gates. My instincts go on high alert.
“Brae,” I say quietly, “take Ryder and go inside. Now.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but something in my expression convinces her otherwise. She nods, taking Ryder's carrier and quickly heads into the house.
Disappearing behind the brush so the driver won’t see me coming, I move along the fence and slip out the gate. I approach the car cautiously, my hand resting near my gun at my waist. When the driver turns, I catch his reflection in the sideview mirror.
Turner.
This. Motherfucker. Rage surges through my veins, but I force myself to stay in control.
“Officer Turner,” I call out. “What brings you all the way out here?”
He steps out of the car, a smirk on his face that makes me want to knock his teeth in. “Just checking up on my favorite parolee. Making sure you're staying out of trouble.”
“I'm right where I'm supposed to be,” I tell him, my tone icy. “You, on the other hand, seem to be a long way from your office.”
His eyes narrow, and I see a flash of something dangerous. “I go where I need to go, Fischer. And right now, I think you and I need to have a little chat.” Not on his fucking life.
Standing my ground, I don’t give him an inch. “I don't have anything to say to you, Turner. Unless you've got a warrant, I suggest you leave.”
He takes a step closer, the vein in his forehead bulging. He’s good and pissed off now, but I’m not backing down.
“You think you're untouchable, you fucking prick? You and the trash you call family? Let me tell you something—I'm watching you. One slip, one mistake, and I'll be there. And this time, I'll make sure you go away for good.”
My fists clench at my sides, every instinct screaming at me to put a bullet in this fucker’s head.
“Is that a threat, Officer? Because it sure sounds like one.”
Turner's face twists with anger, but before he can respond, I hear footsteps behind me.
“Everything alright here, Legend?” I relax slightly at the sound of Thorn’s voice.
Turner's gaze shifts to Thorn, and I can see him reassessing the situation.
Thorn moves to stand beside me, his presence solid and intimidating. “You got a warrant, Officer? This is private property.”
Turner's eyes go cold, his smile predatory. “Just doing my job, making sure Mr. Fischer here is staying on the straight and narrow,” Turner says, his tone dripping with false sincerity. “It would be a shame if his... associations led him back to prison.”
Thorn's voice is steel when he responds. “Sounds an awful lot like harassment to me, Officer. I wonder what your superiors would think about you harassing men who’ve served their time.”
For a moment, I see genuine surprise flicker across Turner's face. He clearly wasn't expecting this level of pushback. To his credit, he recovers quickly, his mask of superiority sliding back into place.
“Just doing my due diligence,” he says smoothly. “But I can see I'm not welcome here. I'll be on my way. Remember what I said, Fischer. I'm watching.”
Thorn and I watch as Turner gets back in his car and drives away. Only when he's out of sight do I let out the breath I've been holding.
“Jesus,” I mutter, turning to Thorn. “Thanks for the backup, brother.”
Thorn nods, his eyes still fixed on where Turner's car disappeared. “Anytime. But I hope you know that bastard's not going to stop.”
“I know,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “Viper and Sparrow are taking care of it.”
Thorn chuckles darkly. “Sometimes a trip to Gatortown is the only answer to assholes like him.”
He’s right about that.
One way or another, Turner has to go.