Chapter Nineteen
Ender
“Church!”
The tone snapped the room in half.
Laughter died mid-breath. Someone’s chair scraped back hard. A pool ball clacked against the felt like it had been struck too forcefully. Even the air changed, charged with that familiar club-business edge that made your skin tighten.
I felt Clove stiffen beside me.
I turned my head slightly, checking her without making it obvious.
Her eyes were on the hallway. On the door to church. On the place she wasn’t allowed to go.
I hated that.
Not because the women weren’t capable—hell, half the time they were the smartest ones in the building—but because this was our rule, our tradition, and I wasn’t the one who got to break it.
Slayer’s gaze swept the room and landed on me like a command. “Move it.”
I didn’t move immediately because Clove was there, and I didn’t want to leave her. I looked down at her.
“You need to go,” she whispered.
I hesitated.
Alice was by the pool table, a cue in her hand like she’d been born holding it. She lifted her chin toward Clove. “We got her.”
Clove’s eyes flicked to Alice, then back to me.
Neither of us had said it out loud—what was happening and what had changed—but we both felt it.
The way she needed me near. The way my attention stayed on her like a leash I didn’t want to loosen.
The way she’d counted when I went to the bathroom.
The way I’d climbed into bed and pulled her against me without thinking twice.
“You won’t be long, right?” she asked softly.
My chest tightened. “I don’t know what I’m walking into, baby,” I admitted.
Her eyes widened at the endearment, just a flicker.
All the women were there. Carnie in the kitchen. Penny hovering by the door. Adley flopped on the couch near Eden. Nikki, Karmen, and Alice like guard dogs by the pool table. Wren, Mayra, Mom, Wendy, and Cora were at a table by the pool table.
“I’ll be fine,” Clove said.
But Slayer’s voice cut in again, sharper. “Ender!”
“I won’t be long,” I promised Clove.
She nodded once, like she was filing it away as something she could hold onto.
I turned and headed down the hallway, the weight of her eyes on my back the whole time. I hated leaving her.
I knew she was surrounded by badass women who would put a bullet in someone’s skull without blinking if they needed to. Nothing would happen to her here.
I pushed open the church door, and the room was full.
I slid into a seat between Jude and Kingston.
Jude leaned slightly toward me. “You ready to fight?”
“Always,” I muttered.
Kingston huffed a laugh. “Join the club.”
Dad sat across the table with his posture relaxed but eyes sharp. He watched me settle in, then said dryly, “Nice of you to join us.”
I didn’t answer.
Wrecker stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, his expression hard. Pipe was beside him, phone in hand.
Wrecker didn’t waste time.
“Yogi called.”
The room shifted.
Finally.
Wrecker’s eyes swept the table. “He says he can’t get in touch with any of his guys.”
A couple mutters rose.
“Convenient,” Maniac said.
Wrecker held up a hand. “He claims it’s not out of the norm. Says they’re nomads. Working pipeline jobs. Sometimes they go dark. Sometimes they don’t answer for days.”
“Bullshit,” I snapped before I could stop myself.
The word landed loud in the room, bouncing off the walls.
Wrecker didn’t flinch. He just stared at me like he’d expected it.
Pipe’s mouth twitched like he wanted to grin but didn’t.
Wrecker lifted his palm slightly, calming. “We know it’s bullshit.”
“Then what in the hell are we doing sitting here?” I demanded, heat rising fast. “We should be hauling ass to St. Paul and making the whole Northbound Reapers MC pay!”
A few guys murmured their agreement.
Cole sat down the table, with his jaw tight and eyes dark. He nodded once, slow and vicious, like he’d love nothing more than to light St. Paul on fire. “Agreed.”
Boink leaned back in his chair with a smirk. “Looks like Joker’s back.”
I slammed my fist onto the table hard enough to make a couple cups jump. “From where I’m sitting,” I bit out, “you all should be going crazy over this shit. The asshole lied straight to your face, Wrecker, and you’re letting him do it.”
Wrecker tipped his head slightly, calm as a storm cloud. “I’m letting him think he’s got a one-up on us.”
I scoffed. “Why?”
“Because a man who thinks he’s safe gets sloppy,” Wrecker said.
The room quieted, listening.
Wrecker stepped closer to the table, bracing his hands on it. “Yogi doesn’t know what we know. He’s trying to play it like his guys ‘couldn’t have done it,’ like this is all a misunderstanding, like we’re barking up the wrong tree.”
Pipe’s voice was flat. “He also said he has a call in to their boss—the pipeline supervisor. Claims it takes a few days to hear back.”
“Which is another stall tactic,” Kingston muttered.
“Exactly,” Wrecker said. “So we use his stall against him.”
I stared at him, still furious. “How?”
Wrecker’s gaze locked on mine. “We don’t show our hand too early. We don’t ride up there hot and loud and give him time to bury the bodies, move the crew, and lock down his clubhouse like a fortress.”
“So we just… wait?” I snapped.
Dad leaned forward, his voice quiet but edged. “You’re going to listen to the president.”
I clenched my jaw.
Wrecker didn’t rise to my anger. He just spoke like he was explaining the obvious. “No. We don’t wait. We move smarter.”
He nodded toward Brinks, Thorn, and Nickel. “Those were going to St. Paul to get eyes on the ground.”
“Were?” Jude asked.
“I’ve got another plan, but I’m going to need some help with it.
I called King, and I’m just waiting to hear back from him.
I’ll let you all know when I do.” Wrecker nodded toward Pipe.
“Until then, Pipe keeps calling Yogi like nothing’s changed.
Friendly. Calm. Like we’re still giving him the benefit of the doubt. ”
Pipe snorted. “Gonna be the hardest acting job of my life.”
Cole’s voice cut in, low and dangerous. “Or we roll up and take his whole fucking clubhouse.”
A few guys laughed under their breath, but not because it was funny, because it was true.
Cole’s eyes were hard. “They hurt Star. And now Clove. We keep playing chess while they keep moving? That’s how we lose.”
My chest tightened with agreement.
Wrecker held Cole’s gaze, respectful but firm. “I hear you.”
Cole didn’t look away. “Then act like it.”
Wrecker exhaled slowly. “Acting like it doesn’t mean acting stupid.”
A couple murmurs. A couple nods.
Wrecker’s voice stayed level. “We go in loud without intel, we risk walking into a trap. We risk escalation that gets our women hurt. We risk turning this into a war that pulls heat from every direction.” He looked around the table.
“You want the kidnappers. So do I. But we get them by taking away their exits. Not by giving them a warning shot.”
I wanted to argue.
I wanted to stand up and tell him none of this mattered because Clove could’ve been dead, because she’d been chased through the woods like prey, because I’d heard her counting, and it had taken everything in me not to break something.
But Wrecker wasn’t wrong.
And that was the worst part.
Dad’s voice softened, just slightly. “Sit back. Let him lead. You’ll get your pound of flesh.”
I swallowed, forcing myself to breathe through my nose instead of my teeth.
Wrecker leaned back from the table. “Here’s the plan.”
“Pipe keeps Yogi talking. Or trying. If he answers, we keep it calm. We keep him thinking we’re playing nice.”
Pipe’s mouth twisted. “I’ll play nice while I fantasize about punching him.”
“We monitor our own. No one moves alone. Women stay paired. And no one is alone, ever.”
My hands curled into fists under the table.
Cole’s jaw worked like he was chewing down rage. “And if Yogi keeps ignoring us?”
Wrecker’s tone turned colder. “Then we treat him like an enemy.”
Pipe nodded. “Which he already is.”
“Not officially,” Wrecker said. “Yet.”
A beat of silence.
Then Brinks leaned forward, voice almost amused. “So basically we’re gonna let him hang himself.”
Wrecker’s mouth twitched. “Hopefully.”
I exhaled hard, still unhappy, but I couldn’t deny the logic.
Wrecker clapped his hands once. “That’s it. Church is over. Move.”
I rose more slowly, tension still tight in my shoulders.
Cole hung back.
When the room cleared, he stepped toward me, stopping just close enough to make it a private conversation without needing to whisper.
“You’re gonna blow a gasket,” he said.
I stared at him. “Feels like the only productive thing I can do.”
He snorted. “Yeah. I know that feeling.” He looked at me for a second, then nodded toward the door. “You don’t like this.”
“‘This’?” I asked.
“Waiting,” he said. “Playing it calm.”
I clenched my jaw. “Because every second is giving them time to run.”
Cole nodded. “And because they hurt her.”
My stomach tightened.
I didn’t answer. Didn’t have to.
He gave me a look that said he saw right through me. “I’ve been there,” he said quietly. “Not with the kidnapping stuff exactly. But with realizing somebody matters more than you let yourself admit.”
I swallowed. “I’m protecting her.”
Cole’s mouth twitched. “Yeah. That’s what you tell yourself.”
I glared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re not just doing it because Wrecker told you to,” Cole said. “You’re doing it because you can’t not.”
My pulse kicked hard.
He continued before I could interrupt. “Listen. It sucks. The waiting sucks. The planning sucks. But Wrecker’s right. You go in hot; you give them a chance to move the chess pieces. You want them trapped.”
I dragged a hand over my face. “I want them dead.”
Cole’s eyes went dark. “Same.” Then he said, softer, “Don’t let what happened turn you into something you can’t come back from.”
I stared at him.
He held my gaze, then added, “Or do. And just make sure you’ve got a reason worth it.”
My throat went tight.
Clove.
That was the reason. I didn’t say it. Didn’t need to.
Cole clapped my shoulder once. “Go check on her.”
I didn’t waste another second.
I headed back into the common area, and the moment I stepped through the doorway, my eyes went exactly where they always went now.
Clove.
She was by the pool table with Alice, Eden, Mayra, and Bell. The women’s laughter rose in waves.
Clove had a cue in her hands and a huge smile on her face.
God, she was beautiful.
Not in a polished, perfect way. In a real way. A living way. Bruises still faintly visible if you looked close enough. A cut near her brow still healing. But she was standing.
She looked up and saw me. Her expression changed instantly.
Relief.
Not dramatic. Not frantic. Just… relief.
My chest eased, but I didn’t go to her right away.
Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t want to make it obvious to everyone in the room how much it mattered. How much she mattered. How much I was tethered to her now.
So I did the next best thing.
I moved to where she could see me.
I went behind the bar, poured myself a drink, and leaned back against the counter with my eyes on her.
Always on her.
Clove took her shot, sank a ball, then looked over at me like she needed to confirm I was still there.
I lifted my glass slightly.
Her lips curved into the smallest smile.
And I stayed exactly where I was. Close enough to watch, close enough to protect, far enough not to claim.
Not yet.