Chapter 13
Ice Pick
Three weeks after Ava's interview, things have settled into something resembling normalcy.
Castellano's awaiting trial with no chance of bail, the media's moved on to the next scandal, and Ava's found an apartment twenty minutes from the compound where she can work without brothers constantly interrupting.
I'm helping her move boxes when my phone rings. Vulture’s name on the screen.
"Yeah?" I answer, balancing a box of books on my hip.
"We've got a situation. We need you back at the compound. Now." His voice is tight, controlled, the tone he uses when shit's about to hit the fan.
"What kind of situation?"
"The kind that requires the Sergeant-at-Arms. Bring Ava if she's with you, this involves her too."
My stomach drops. "Be there in twenty."
I hang up and find Ava unpacking kitchen supplies, her hair pulled back and wearing one of my old shirts. She looks domestic and beautiful and completely unprepared for whatever's waiting at the compound.
"That was Vulture. We need to go back. He says it's urgent and it involves you."
Her expression shifts immediately, the journalist replacing the woman settling into her new space. "What happened?"
"Don't know, but Vulture doesn't call emergency meetings unless it's serious." I grab my keys. "Come on."
The ride back is tense, both of us running through possibilities. Another threat from Castellano's associates. Retaliation from the Reapers. Some new development in the case that requires testimony. By the time we pull through the gates, my nerves are wound tight.
The common room's packed with brothers, all wearing expressions that range from concerned to outright pissed. Vulture’s at the center with Falcon and Robert Samson, and there's a woman I don't recognize standing beside them. She’s in her mid-thirties, wearing professional clothes, and carrying herself with the kind of authority that says law enforcement.
"Ice Pick, Ava, good. You're here." Vulture gestures to the stranger. "This is Special Agent Lisa Monroe, FBI. She's got some information we need to hear."
Agent Monroe steps forward, her expression sympathetic but firm. "Ms. Langley, Mr. Vaughan, I'm afraid I have some difficult news. Victor Castellano was found dead in his cell this morning."
The words hit like a physical blow. Ava goes rigid beside me, and I wrap my arm around her waist to keep her steady.
"Dead how?" I ask, my voice flat.
"Apparent suicide. He was found hanging from a bedsheet around three AM during routine checks." Agent Monroe pulls out a tablet, showing us photos I immediately wish I could unsee. "However, there are inconsistencies that suggest it may not have been self-inflicted."
"You're saying someone killed him and made it look like suicide," Ava says, her voice tight.
"That's our working theory. The autopsy's being rushed, but preliminary findings show bruising patterns inconsistent with hanging. Defensive wounds on his hands. Signs of a struggle." Agent Monroe's expression hardens. "Someone wanted him silenced."
"Who had access to his cell?" Robert asks, already in lawyer mode.
"That's what we're investigating, but the timing's suspicious.
Castellano's lawyer filed a motion yesterday indicating his client was prepared to cooperate with prosecutors, to name names in exchange for a reduced sentence.
" Agent Monroe looks at Ava. "Names of people higher up the chain.
People with enough power and resources to order a hit inside a federal facility. "
"The Collector," Ava breathes. "He was going to give up the Collector."
"That's our assumption. Which means whoever the Collector is, they're still out there and they're willing to kill to protect their identity." Agent Monroe's gaze sweeps the room. "And that puts everyone involved in this investigation at risk. Including you, Ms. Langley."
"Fuck," I mutter, my mind already racing through security protocols and threat assessments. "You're saying Ava's still a target."
"I'm saying we can't rule it out. Castellano's death suggests a level of organization and resources we didn't account for.
Someone with connections inside federal detention, someone who can order executions without leaving a trail.
" Agent Monroe turns to Vulture. "I'd recommend increased security for everyone connected to this case until we can identify and neutralize the threat. "
"Already planned on it," Vulture says grimly. "Ava stays at the compound until this is resolved. No exceptions."
"Wait." Ava steps forward, her spine straight despite the fear I can see in her eyes. "I just moved into my apartment. I've got a life, a career. I can't just hide indefinitely."
"You can and you will." My voice comes out harder than I intend. "Someone just killed a billionaire in federal custody to keep him quiet. You think they'd hesitate to come after you?"
"Ice Pick’s right," Agent Monroe says. "Until we identify the Collector and determine the scope of this threat, you're in danger. We can provide protective custody if you'd prefer."
"She's staying here," I say before Ava can argue. "With us, where I can personally guarantee her safety."
"Ice Pick." Ava's voice is low, meant only for me. "Can we talk? Privately?"
I want to say no, I want to keep her in the room where I can see her and know she's safe. But the look on her face tells me this conversation's happening whether I like it or not.
"Fine. Five minutes." I guide her toward the hallway, aware of every eye tracking our movement. "My room."
Once we're inside with the door closed, she rounds on me. "You can't just make decisions for me, I'm not club property, I'm not your ol' lady, I'm me, and I get a say in what happens to my life."
"I'm trying to keep you alive."
"By locking me in a compound indefinitely? That's not living, Mason. That's being a prisoner." She crosses her arms. "I understand the danger. I'm not stupid. But I also can't put my entire life on hold because some shadowy figure might be after me."
"It's not might, Ava, it's definitely. Someone killed Castellano rather than risk him talking.
That same someone knows you're the journalist who exposed the operation.
" I step closer, needing her to understand.
"I can't lose you, Ava. I can't watch you take unnecessary risks because you're too stubborn to be scared. "
"I am scared. I’m terrified, actually." Her voice breaks slightly. "But I'm also not going to let fear control my life. I've spent the last year fighting for justice, for the truth. I'm not going to hide now."
"No one's asking you to hide, just to be smart. Stay somewhere safe until the FBI identifies the threat."
"And how long will that take? Weeks? Months? Years?" She shakes her head. "I can't live like that. I can't put my career and my life on hold indefinitely."
"Then what do you suggest? Because I'm fresh out of ideas that don't involve keeping you somewhere I know you're protected."
She's quiet for a long moment, thinking.
Then she says, "What if we compromise? I stay at the compound most of the time, but I'm allowed to leave for work with security.
You or one of the brothers comes with me when I need to meet sources or conduct interviews.
I get to live my life, and you get peace of mind knowing I'm not alone. "
It's not perfect. It still leaves too many vulnerabilities, too many opportunities for something to go wrong, but looking at her face, seeing the determination mixed with fear, I know pushing harder will only make her dig in.
"Fine. But you don't go anywhere without telling me first. You don't meet anyone alone, and if something feels wrong, you bail immediately. No arguments."
"Deal." She steps into my arms, and I hold her tight enough to feel her heartbeat against my chest. "Thank you for not trying to lock me up."
"Don't thank me yet. You might hate how overprotective I'm about to become."
"I can handle overprotective. It's controlling I can't deal with."
"I'll try to remember the difference." I kiss the top of her head. "Come on. We need to get back before Vulture sends someone to check on us."
We return to the common room where the meeting's continued without us. Agent Monroe's showing the brothers photos of Castellano's cell, walking through the timeline of his death.
"The guards on duty that night are being questioned, but so far their stories check out.
No unauthorized access, no security breaches that we can detect.
" She pulls up another image. "But here's what's interesting.
Castellano received a visitor two days before his death.
A lawyer claiming to represent potential business interests. "
"Let me guess," Robert says. "The lawyer doesn't exist."
"Oh, he exists, but his practice is a shell. He has no clients we can verify, no cases on record. He's a front for something." Agent Monroe's expression is grim. "We're tracing his connections, but whoever set this up knew how to cover their tracks."
"What about the girls?" Ava asks suddenly. "The ones who were rescued, are they safe?"
"They're in protective custody at various locations.
We've increased security, but so far there's been no indication anyone's targeting them.
" Agent Monroe looks at her. "You're the more visible threat, Ms. Langley.
Your article, your interviews, they made you the face of this investigation.
If the Collector wants to send a message, you're the obvious target. "
"So I'm bait."
"You're a witness who needs protection." Agent Monroe's tone is firm. "But if you're willing, we could use you to draw out the threat, in a controlled environment, heavy security, see if anyone makes a move."
"Absolutely fucking not," I say before Ava can respond. "You're not using her as bait."
"It might be the fastest way to identify the Collector," Agent Monroe argues. "And Ms. Langley would be protected every step of the way."
"No." Vulture’s voice cuts through the room. "Ice Pick's right. We're not putting her in the line of fire deliberately, find another way."
Agent Monroe looks like she wants to argue, but something in Vulture’s expression stops her. "Alright. We'll pursue other leads, but Ms. Langley, if you change your mind, the offer stands."
"I won't," Ava says, and I feel relief flooding through me. "I've had enough of being a target."
The meeting breaks up with Agent Monroe promising to keep us updated on the investigation. Brothers disperse to their usual activities, but the atmosphere's changed. Everyone's on edge, hyper-aware that the threat's not over.
"She'll need a room," Vulture says, approaching us. "We can't have her staying in yours indefinitely. Club whores are already gossiping."
"Let them gossip," I say, but he's right. Ava living in my room full-time sends a message I'm not sure either of us is ready for. "Fine. Give her the room next to mine. But I'm keeping watch."
"Didn't expect otherwise." Vulture looks at Ava. "You're welcome here as long as you need, but understand that this is our world now. Our rules, our way of doing things. You've got a problem with how we operate, you bring it to me or Ice Pick. Clear?"
"Crystal." Ava meets his eyes without flinching. "And thank you for keeping me safe."
"Thank Ice Pick. He's the one who's putting his ass on the line for you."
After Vulture leaves, I guide Ava back upstairs to what'll be her room. It's sparse but functional, better than some of the accommodations we've got.
"This okay?" I ask, watching her take in the space.
"It's fine, better than fine." She turns to me. "Mason, I'm sorry for arguing earlier. I know you're just trying to protect me."
"And I'm sorry for being controlling. You're right that you get a say in your own life." I cross to her, pulling her close. "But you need to understand something. Losing you isn't an option. Not after everything we've been through."
"You're not going to lose me." Her arms wrap around my waist. "But we need to find a balance between safety and living. Otherwise, the Collector wins without even making a move."
She's right. Keeping her locked away might keep her breathing, but it'll kill the parts of her that make her who she is. The fire, the determination, the need to chase truth no matter the cost.
"We'll figure it out," I promise. "Together."
"Together," she agrees.
That night, despite having her own room, Ava ends up in mine. We're lying in the dark, her body curved against mine, when she speaks.
"Mason, what if they never find the Collector? What if I'm looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life?"
"Then I'll be right there beside you, watching your back." My arms tighten around her. "However long it takes, whatever it costs, you're not facing this alone."
"That's a big commitment."
"Good thing I'm committed." I press a kiss to her shoulder. "Besides, someone's got to keep you out of trouble."
"I don't get into trouble. Trouble finds me."
"Same difference." I roll us so I'm above her, needing to see her face. "I love you, Ava Langley. Danger, trouble, and all."
"I love you too." Her hands frame my face. "Now stop talking and show me."
I do, spending the rest of the night proving exactly how much she means to me. And if I'm a little rougher than usual, a little more desperate, she doesn't complain. Just meets me stroke for stroke, taking everything I give and demanding more.
By the time we're done, we're both exhausted and satisfied, the fear temporarily forgotten in the aftermath of pleasure.
"We're going to be okay," she murmurs against my chest as we drift off. "Aren't we?"
"Yeah, sweetheart. We're going to be okay."
I just hope I'm not lying.
Because somewhere out there, the Collector's watching. Waiting. Planning their next move.
And I've got no idea how to stop a ghost.
But I'll die trying if that's what it takes to keep Ava safe.
That's a promise.