Chapter 14 Dante #2
Sable doesn’t flinch. “You do it your way, Cross. We’ll do it ours. Just don’t get in our way.”
Her calm is worse than Serrano’s threats. Because she believes it. She thinks Vale can be handled like any other criminal. I know better.
I’m halfway turned to leave when her voice cuts sharp. “One more thing.”
The wind claws at her coat, snapping the fabric around her legs. Her jaw works, teeth grinding, like she hates the words before she speaks them. “You’ve got a leak. Someone inside your circle was feeding Serrano.”
My blood ices. “Who?”
She doesn’t blink. “Riot.”
The name slams into me harder than any punch. Riot. Katana’s right hand.
“No way. No fucking way.” I grind out. “It’s gotta be a setup.”
“We have Serrano’s phone, we traced his phone calls and recent movements. The evidence points to Riot. Do what you want with it. Just don’t pretend you weren’t warned.”
The pier falls away behind me, but Sable’s words stick like splinters under my skin. My fists ache from clenching.
The drive back is a blur of dark streets and red lights I barely notice. My hand keeps twitching toward the pack of smokes on the seat, but even that won’t cut through the weight pressing down on me. Every block I get closer to the clubhouse, the tighter the knot in my chest winds.
I try to shape the words in my head. How to tell Katana that her sister in all but blood was Serrano’s eyes and ears. Nothing works. Every version feels like a betrayal before it even leaves my mouth.
I could keep it buried. Wait until I’ve got more proof. But if Sable’s right and I sit on it, that silence could cost lives. Could cost Katana. Either way I’m fucked and not in the good way.
By the time the clubhouse roofline cuts through the dawn, I know there’s no clean way. No gentle version. I either put the truth in her hands now, bleeding and ugly, or I lie by omission and let it fester. And I’ve lied enough in my life.
The clubhouse is quiet when I let myself back in, the kind of silence that feels loaded, like everyone’s waiting for the next shoe to drop and I’m about to bring it crashing down.
I take the stairs slowly, each step heavy.
Upstairs, Katana’s door is closed but light spills across the hall from underneath.
I push it open, expecting to see her in bed not braced against the dresser.
Sweatpants hang loose on her hips, tank top tight against her skin. Pale. Swaying unsteadily, but standing.
Her eyes lock on me. “Where’d you go?”
I close the door, leaning back against it, “Business.”
“Bullshit.” She pushes off the dresser, pain flashing across her face but swallows it quickly. “What kind of business drags you out in the middle of the night?”
I should ease into it. Find a way to soften the blow. But I’ve never been good at anything but blunt. “It’s Riot.”
Katana’s whole body goes rigid. “What about her?”
“She’s been feeding Serrano intel.”
For a second she doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. Then she’s across the room faster than she should be able, her fist connecting with my chest. Not enough to hurt me, but enough to make the point. Pain tears through her ribs and she bends forward clutching her side.
“Don’t you dare,” she spits, voice raw. “Don’t you stand there and throw her name around like that. Riot would never.”
I move on instinct, catching her before she topples. She jerks back, fury burning in her eyes even as her body betrays her with a wince.
“I don’t want to believe it either,” I grind out. “But there’s evidence. Calls. Movements. It lines up.”
Her lip curls. “You don’t know a damn thing about me or my club.”
I step in closer, my voice low, steady. “That’s where you’re wrong, Maya.”
She freezes, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes flare, sharp and shaken all at once like I caught her off guard.
“I know you,” I push. “I know how you fight, how you carry the weight for everyone else. And I know it’s eating you alive that the person you trust most might’ve sold you out.”
Her chest heaves, every inhale ragged with pain and fury. She looks at me like she wants to rip the truth out of me with her bare hands. “Don’t you dare stand there and tell me I can’t trust my own family.”
“I know loyalty when I see it. And I know betrayal too.” My voice drops, “Trust me.”
Her laugh is bitter, sharp as glass. “Trust you? Why, because we fucked?” Her voice cuts deep, and I feel it like a blade. “Your word doesn’t mean a damn thing against my club.”
Her words tear through me, but I don’t flinch. I step closer, lowering my voice. “It means I wouldn’t lie to you about this.”
Her breathing shudders, shallow and painful. She studies me, eyes burning, searching for cracks. Then she shoves me back, weaker than she wants it to be, her face twisting as her ribs scream again. She hides the wince with a snarl.
“Get out,” she says, voice trembling but sharp. “Now.”
Every instinct screams to stay, to fight through this, but the fire in her eyes says if I push, I’ll lose her. So I turn, each step heavier than the last, and leave her standing in that room, her anger burning hotter than the hunger I can’t smother no matter how far I walk.