Chapter Twelve
Doc
The clubhouse loomed before us, its familiar outline suddenly foreign and intimidating.
I cut the engine on my bike, feeling Nova’s arms loosen around my waist as she prepared to dismount.
Just hours ago, we’d been fugitives from both the law and my brothers.
Now we were back, summoned by the President himself after Venom’s extraction team had found us at the cabin.
My wounded arm throbbed beneath its fresh bandage, a constant reminder of Wallace’s bullets and how close we’d come to not making it back at all.
But we had made it, and we’d brought evidence that would change everything.
“Ready?” I turned to help Nova off the bike.
She nodded, her jaw tight, eyes clear, chin slightly lifted. Even with her ankle freshly wrapped and braced, she wouldn’t show weakness. She’d refused the painkillers I’d offered earlier, saying she needed her mind sharp. I understood. We both needed every mental faculty intact for what was coming.
“They’re all inside.” Venom dismounted from his bike. He’d personally led the team that extracted us from the cabin, arriving just as we’d spotted Wallace’s men approaching through the woods. “President called full Church. Every patch within riding distance, even if they were on a job.”
I steadied Nova as she tested her weight on her injured ankle. The brace helped, but I felt her tense against the pain.
“They ready to let her help?” I asked Venom.
“Maybe to some degree. They’re definitely paying more attention, though. What the two of you discovered is more than we’ve been able to piece together so far.”
The massive wooden doors swung open as we approached, spilling golden light into the darkness.
Tank stood in the doorway, his massive frame blocking most of the entrance.
Even though he’d been part of Venom’s team, he’d returned ahead of us.
His gaze moved from me to Nova, then to the duffel bag slung across my shoulder -- the bag containing the evidence we’d collected.
Tank stepped aside, allowing us to enter.
The main room had transformed since I’d last seen it.
Maps covered the pool table, surveillance photos were taped to the walls, equipment I didn’t recognize stacked in corners.
Brothers I hadn’t seen in months filled the space, some I recognized from other charters mixed among our regular members.
They all turned toward us as we entered, a mixture of curiosity, skepticism, and in some cases, lingering hostility.
I instinctively moved closer to Nova, my good arm nearly touching hers. She might be Bats’ niece, might have earned Venom’s loyalty and the President’s protection, but that didn’t mean every man in this room accepted her yet.
Savior stood at the head of the long table set up in the center of the room. He looked older than when we had left, the weight of the past few days carved into the lines around his eyes. His gaze met mine across the room, not warm but not the cold fury I had expected after my defiance.
“Doc,” he acknowledged. “Nova. Glad you made it back in one piece.”
“Mostly,” I replied, gesturing to my arm.
A hint of a smile touched his lips before disappearing. “Venom tells me you’ve got something worth dying for.”
I nodded, moving forward to place the duffel on the table. “Worth dying for. Worth fighting for.”
Savior turned to the assembled brothers.
“For those who weren’t in Church yesterday, Doc and Nova have uncovered more evidence of the trafficking operation running through our territory.
Women and girls moved through motels, trucking companies, businesses we ride past every day.
” His voice hardened. “Not just any operation.
One protected by badges, run by people with power.
“Deputy Chief Wallace.” Savior tapped a surveillance photo on the table. “Judge Harmon. At least three sheriff’s deputies. County commissioner Ellis. All taking payments to protect an interstate trafficking ring that’s been operating under our noses for years.”
“But it looks like most of our locals, like Chief Daniels and the members of the Swift Angels, are still on the right side of the law,” Torch said.
Sticks stepped forward, folding his arms over his chest. “That’s a heavy accusation, Pres. Proof better be rock solid if we’re going to war with badges.”
“It’s solid.” I unzipped the duffel. “Bank records showing regular payments from shell companies to officials. Court documents proving cases were deliberately buried. Police reports that were sealed or destroyed -- but not before someone made copies.”
Nova stepped forward, her gait slightly uneven with the brace but her movements deliberate. She placed her mother’s notebook on the table, opening it to pages marked with colored tabs.
“My mother spent months tracking this operation. She identified patterns -- financial, logistical, chronological -- that connected officials to specific trafficking incidents. But whatever she found last wasn’t recorded in her notes. It’s why I didn’t have everything I needed to put this together.”
Royal snorted. “No offense to your mama, but reporter’s hunches don’t mean shit without hard evidence.”
I tensed, ready to step in, but Nova didn’t need my protection. She simply looked at Royal, holding his gaze without flinching.
“I gave you her evidence. Not only that, but a lot of it was stolen. But in addition to what she discovered, I found out more information.” She flipped to a page in her own notebook, filled with account numbers.
“Every deposit into Wallace’s offshore account corresponds to a case dismissal or evidence disappearance.
Every transfer to Judge Harmon’s shell company matches a ruling that benefited the trafficking operation.
And there’s more. Every person involved got paid off, and this is the proof. ”
She reached into the duffel, pulling out the files we’d taken from the county clerk’s office.
“These are the official records. Property transfers for the Blue Pines Motel chain. Tax filings that don’t match the income being reported.
Court documents showing patterns of case dismissals that can’t be explained by any legitimate legal reasoning. ”
Tempest looked over everything, eyes narrowed. He picked up a few of the documents and skimmed them over. His expression darkened as he read. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.
“These people will keep killing to protect their operation.” Nova held his gaze. “My mother identified at least thirty victims moved through this county. Girls as young as fourteen. And I believe there have been more.”
I watched as hardened men who’d initially dismissed Nova’s quest for justice now pored over bank statements and police reports with growing fury. Saint was already marking locations on a map, circling the Blue Pines Motel and the warehouse owned by one of the shell companies.
Savior let them process for several minutes before calling for attention.
“This stops now.” His voice carried the weight of absolute authority.
“Not next week, not after more planning. We’ve tried waiting and it nearly got Doc and Nova killed.
We split into teams. Surveillance on Wallace and Harmon.
Entry team for the warehouse where we believe records are being kept.
Extraction team for any victims we can identify at the motels. ”
He turned to me and Nova. “You two lead the evidence recovery team. You know what we’re looking for better than anyone. Take Wire and whoever else you need.”
I nodded, feeling Nova straighten beside me. For the first time since this began, we weren’t fighting alone.
Savior looked around the room one final time, his gaze touching each brother. “This is for family. We finish what they started.”
The words settled over the room like a blessing and a battle cry combined. Brothers nodded, some touching their cuts as if reminding themselves what the patch stood for. I felt Nova’s hand find mine and squeeze briefly, her small fingers surprisingly strong.
For the first time since we’d discovered the truth about her parents’ deaths, I allowed myself to feel something beyond survival. Something like hope.
* * *
I leaned against the doorframe of the back office, watching as Nova transformed the space into something between a war room and a hacker’s paradise.
Computer equipment covered every surface, borrowed from Wire’s personal stash and Lavender’s surveillance gear.
Three monitors glowed in the dim light, casting Nova’s face in an eerie blue glow as her fingers flew across the keyboard.
She’d shed her usual hesitance, moving with purpose as she connected cables and configured settings.
This was a side of her I’d never seen -- confident, commanding, completely in her element.
“You planning to hack the Pentagon next?” I asked, stepping into the room.
Nova didn’t look up, her focus absolute as she typed commands into a terminal window. “County records database is bad enough. Their firewall is decent, but their network architecture is a mess. Honestly, I try not to do this sort of thing, and I wouldn’t be doing it now except… it feels necessary.”
Wire grinned at me from where he was setting up a router. The club’s resident tech genius was in his element, hunched over equipment worth more than most members’ bikes. “Girl knows her shit.” I heard the admiration in his voice. “Asked for a packet sniffer before I even mentioned it.”
I raised an eyebrow at Nova, who finally glanced up with a small smile. “Data journalism,” she explained, as if that clarified everything. “Mom taught me. Can’t expose corruption without knowing how to follow digital breadcrumbs.”