Chapter 6
Ava
The compound's a mess. Three days after the raid and the attack, we're still finding bullet casings in corners and patching holes in walls.
The brothers work in shifts, repairing damage while maintaining security rotations because even though the Reapers are done, paranoia's become second nature around here.
I'm in the common room going through my notes for what feels like the hundredth time, organizing everything for the article I'm finally going to write. My new laptop, courtesy of the club's surprisingly generous equipment fund, sits open in front of me with files spread across multiple windows.
The door opens and Ice Pick walks in, sweat-soaked and shirtless after helping Rook repair the damaged gate. Dirt streaks his chest and abs, and I lose my train of thought completely watching water from the hose drip down his skin.
"See something you like?" he asks, catching me staring.
"Just admiring the view." I don't bother hiding it. "You planning on staying half-naked all day or are clothes eventually part of your agenda?"
"Depends. Does the half-naked thing bother you?"
"It's distracting, but I didn't say I wanted you to stop."
He grins, that dangerous smile that does things to my pulse, and crosses the room. His hands bracket me on either side of the couch, caging me in, and he leans down until his mouth's inches from mine.
"You've been working for six hours straight. Time for a break."
"I'm on a deadline. Robert wants my evidence organized for the prosecution."
"Robert can wait thirty minutes." His teeth graze my bottom lip. "You can't keep running yourself into the ground, Ava. You're going to burn out."
"I'll burn out after the article's done, after the prosecution's solid, after I know those girls are going to get justice." I push at his chest, but it's halfhearted. "Someone has to document all this properly."
"And you will, but not at the expense of your health." He pulls back enough to look at my laptop screen. "What are you working on now?"
"Tracing the money trail. Condor gave me access to the financial records he pulled, but some of these shell companies are buried under so many layers it's like peeling an onion made of legal documents and deliberately obscure paperwork."
Ice Pick studies the screen, his brow furrowing. "That company there, Meridian Holdings. I've seen that name before."
"Where?"
"On shipping manifests when we were running guns through the port. They own one of the warehouses we used for storage." He points to another company name. "And that one, Pacific Trade Solutions. They're listed as the company that hired us for security at one of our legit contracts."
My stomach drops. "Wait, are you saying the Saints have done business with these shell companies?"
"Unknowingly, yeah. Looks like whoever's running this operation was using legitimate businesses as cover, hiring local contractors including us to provide services without anyone realizing what they were really funding."
"That's smart. Keeps everything compartmentalized, makes it harder to trace." I pull up another file. "If the club's worked with them, there might be records. Contracts, payment receipts, anything that could help establish the paper trail."
"I'll talk to Hustler. He keeps copies of everything for tax purposes." Ice Pick straightens, running a hand through his hair. "This is bigger than we thought, isn't it?"
"It always was. The Reapers were just the visible part. The people running this operation, they're embedded in the legitimate business world. That's how they've stayed hidden for so long."
He's quiet for a moment, processing this. Then his phone buzzes and he checks it, his expression darkening.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Zip. There's someone at the gate asking for you." He looks at me. "Says her name's Sarah. Your roommate?"
My heart jumps. Sarah. I haven't spoken to her since everything went to hell, and haven't dared to make contact in case it puts her in danger. The fact that she's here, at the compound, means something's wrong.
"Let her in," I say, already standing. "She wouldn't come here unless it was important."
Ice Pick makes the call, and five minutes later Sarah's being escorted into the common room by Zip. She looks exhausted, dark circles under her eyes and her usually perfect hair pulled into a messy bun. When she sees me, relief floods her face.
"Ava, thank god. I've been trying to reach you for days." She rushes forward, pulling me into a hug that's tight enough to bruise. "Are you okay? I heard about the Reapers and the bounty. I was terrified."
"I'm fine. I'm safe here." I pull back, studying her face. "What's wrong? What happened?"
"Our apartment was broken into. Someone trashed the place, went through all your stuff.
The police said it looked like they were searching for something specific.
" Her hands are shaking. "I didn't know what to do, where to find you.
Then I remembered you mentioning the Saints Outlaws once in an article, and I figured if anyone knew where you were, it'd be them. "
Ice Pick steps forward. "When did this happen?"
"Two nights ago. I was staying at my boyfriend's place, came home to find the door kicked in and everything destroyed." Sarah looks at me. "Ava, they took your files. Everything related to your investigation."
"I've got backups. Everything's on encrypted drives." But my stomach's tight with worry. "Did they hurt you? Threaten you?"
"No, but they left a message." She pulls out her phone, showing me a photo of words spray-painted on my living room wall.
Tell Ava Langley we're not done.
Ice Pick's jaw clenches, and I can feel the anger radiating off him. "Zip, get Vulture. Now."
Zip disappears, and Ice Pick turns to Sarah with an expression that's probably meant to be reassuring but comes off more intimidating. "You did the right thing coming here, but we need to know everything. Did you see anyone? Notice anyone following you?"
"I don't think so. But I'm not exactly trained in counter-surveillance." Sarah looks between us. "What's going on? Who are these people?"
"The same people Ava's been investigating. They're dangerous, and if they know you're connected to her, you might be in danger too." Ice Pick pulls out his phone. "I'm calling Robert. We need to get you somewhere safe."
"Wait, who's Robert? And why do I need to go somewhere safe? I just came to warn Ava, not get involved in whatever this is."
"You got involved the moment they broke into your apartment." I take her hand, squeezing it. "These people don't leave loose ends. If they think you know something, if they think you can lead them to me, they'll come after you."
Fear flashes across her face. "Ava, what did you get into?"
"Something bigger than I realized. But I'm going to finish it, and I'm going to make sure you're safe while I do." I look at Ice Pick. "Can the club protect her?"
"We can, but it's going to mean staying here, following our rules, and letting us handle security." He focuses on Sarah. "Can you do that?"
Sarah looks overwhelmed, but she nods. "If it keeps me alive, yes."
Vulture arrives with Falcon, Sterling, and Condor in tow. After Ice Pick fills them in on the situation, Vulture’s expression is grim.
"This confirms what we suspected. Whoever's behind this operation, they're not done. Taking down the Reapers and arresting the buyers wasn't enough. They're trying to eliminate witnesses and evidence." He looks at me. "How secure are your backups?"
"Encrypted, multiple copies stored in different locations.
But if they got into my apartment, they might've found some of my secondary research.
Notes that aren't digitized, contacts I'd written down.
" My mind races through everything I kept at the apartment.
"There's a notebook. Blue, leather-bound.
It's got names, dates, connections I was still verifying. If they found that..."
"Then they know how close you were to identifying them," Condor finishes. "That makes you an even bigger target."
"Which is why she's not leaving this compound until we've neutralized the threat," Ice Pick says, his tone brooking no argument. "And her roommate stays here too. We put them both under protection until this is resolved."
Vulture nods. "Agreed. Sterling, set Sarah up in one of the spare rooms. Make sure she's got everything she needs. Condor, I want you to monitor for any chatter about Ava or her investigation. If someone's making moves, I want to know about it before they get close."
Everyone disperses to their assignments, leaving me alone with Ice Pick and Sarah. My roommate's watching him with wide eyes, clearly trying to reconcile the dangerous biker with the man who's apparently keeping me safe.
"So you two are..." she trails off, looking between us.
"Together," Ice Pick supplies. "And before you ask, yes, I know it's complicated. No, I don't care."
"I was going to ask if he's the reason you've been ignoring my calls for a week, but that works too." Sarah turns to me. "Ava Langley, dating an outlaw biker. Never thought I'd see the day."
"I'm not dating him. We're just..." I pause, realizing I don't actually know what to call what we are. "It's complicated."
"Complicated how? You're sleeping with him, right?"
"Sarah."
"What? I'm just trying to understand the situation." She grins despite everything. "And honestly, if I were trapped in an MC compound, I'd probably jump the hot Sergeant-at-Arms too."
Ice Pick's mouth twitches. "I like her. She's got good taste."
"Don't encourage her." But I'm smiling too, grateful for the moment of levity. "Come on, let's get you settled. You look like you haven't slept in days."