Chapter 19
REBEL
The hallway smells like steel and panic.
Divine’s alarm still screams in our comms, high, digital, and jagged.
The sound drills straight through my skull as Carter and I hit the main room.
Divine’s at her computer, hair yanked into a knot at the base of her skull, screens vomiting code and static.
French is half-dressed, gun in one hand, coffee mug in the other.
“What the hell happened?” I bark.
Divine’s fingers fly over the keys, eyes locked on the scrolling data. “External breach. Not a ping, they’re in. Whoever it is, they bypassed our firewall like it was tissue paper.”
“Vultures?” Carter demands, scanning the windows.
“Maybe. But they’re using ghost proxies. Half the signal’s bouncing off Amsterdam, and…” She stops cold. “The other half’s coming from our own network.”
My stomach twists. “Inside?”
“Not physically. But they’re riding one of our IPs. It’s like someone cloned our system.”
The lights flicker, once. Twice.
Then every screen in the safehouse turns black.
“Divine?” I press.
Her voice goes thin. “The shelter’s servers just went down. Not lag. Gone. They wiped our external backup.”
“What does that mean?” Sloane shouts from the hall, shotgun slung over her shoulder.
“It means the Vultures know everything,” Divine replies, voice cracking. “Our donor routes. Bank ties. The names of every woman and kid registered under the shelter program.”
French swears. “How far’s the bleed?”
“Accounts are already draining,” Divine says, fingers hammering keys. “Shell by shell. Whoever this is, they’re cleaning house.”
“Shut it down,” Allura orders, storming in. “Cut the feeds. Lock everything.”
Divine’s hands blur, but the panic’s visible now. “I’m trying! But it’s not brute force, it’s surgical. They knew exactly where to cut.”
Carter leans in, jaw hard. “That means inside intel. They didn’t just find us, they studied us.”
Upstairs, a door slams. Raven appears, gun in hand, boots unlaced. “Talk to me.”
“We’re blind,” I tell her. “Shelter’s burned. Accounts drained.”
Raven’s face goes pale. “All of them?”
“All of them,” Divine whispers. “We’re broke.”
Silence drops like a bomb.
Then the growl of engines rumbles through the gate.
Allura signals to the girls. “Positions.”
But when the doors open, it’s Capone. Torch and Blayze flank him, faces carved from tension and road dust. The RBMC cut across their shoulders, gleaming wet with rain. They look like men who rode fast and didn’t stop.
Capone pulls his helmet off, expression grave. “We need to talk.”
Allura meets him halfway. “If this is about the gala fallout…”
“It’s not,” he interrupts. “It’s Bones.”
Carter stiffens beside me. “What about him?”
Capone hesitates, then holds out something that hits like a bullet to the ribs. Bones’ cut. Torn, bloodstained, the patch hanging by threads. “Found this near the river docks. No body. No bike. Just this.”
I step closer, the skull patch staring up at me like an accusation. “You’re sure it’s his?”
Torch nods grimly. “We ran the DNA. It’s him.”
Blayze’s jaw ticks. “The docks were crawling with Syndicate trash, but no trace of him. Looks like a ghost job.”
French exhales. “So he’s either dead or playing dead.”
Capone looks straight at me. “You knew him best, Rebel. You think he’d burn his own colors?”
I shake my head, swallowing a lump in my throat. “No. Not unless someone made him.”
Capone’s gaze flickers to Carter. “You might want to move fast. Word is, someone’s paying high for the name Rebel Saint.”
Carter steps forward, voice like gravel. “Who told you that?”
“Red found some information from one of my contacts in the south docks. Got an encrypted drop through an old Syndicate relay.” Capone pulls out a flash drive and hands it over. “Thought you’d want eyes on it before anyone else.”
Carter plugs it into Divine’s auxiliary terminal. Lines of code spool across the monitor, then an image, A bounty posting.
TARGET: REBEL SLADE — ROYAL HARLOTS MC
STATUS: ACTIVE. PRICE: $500,000.
NOTE: DEAD OR SILENCED.
My blood runs cold. Carter slams a fist against the table. “They put a price on you.”
Divine’s fingers hover over the keyboard. “That’s not all. Look.” She expands the data file, and more text is hidden in the code.
Carter’s eyes meet mine, steady, lethal. “We ride now.”
Allura shakes her head. “No. We lock down.”
Raven steps forward. “Allura.”
“No arguments,” Allura cuts her off. “We go to ground until Divine finds where this signal started. Raven, Sloane, you two lock the front and back gates. French, you and Iris sweep the perimeter. Rebel, you and Calypso get the women out. All of them. Use the tunnels.”
My heart sinks. Shit. If I’m in trouble, then so is my nephew. I catch Allura’s gaze, and the fear must be written all over my face. “We’ll get him and keep him safe.”
“What about me?” Carter asks. His grip on my hand is tight, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he releases me.
“You’re to stay here and help Divine with the data breach,” Allura demands.
“I’m not leaving Rebel,” Carter argues.
“You don’t have a choice, Soldier. You’re the only one with the skill set to help her, and she needs you to do it from here.”
I squeeze Carter’s hand in mine, gaining his attention. “I’ll be fine. You stop the threat here, and I’ll get the women and children to safety.”
His hand cups the side of my face. “I don’t like it, Wildcat.”
“I know, but it’s not your choice.” I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss Carter with everything I have. Everything I’ve been afraid to say and everything I’m feeling. He kisses me back just as fiercely, and I pull away too soon.
Calypso appears in the doorway, pale and sweating, clutching a file box like it’s a weapon. “Already started,” she says. “Shelter transport’s ready. Farris is driving.”
Allura nods. “Good. Move fast.”
I grab my gun and knives and follow Calypso out into the storm. The tunnels behind the compound are narrow, damp, and old, built during the club’s early days as escape routes for gun runs gone wrong. Tonight, they’re salvation.
We move the women and children. Those from the shelter, the ones who cleaned for us, who trusted us with their safety. They cling to each other, eyes wide, faces streaked with fear and fluorescent light.
French’s voice crackles through the comm. “Perimeter clear so far. Capone’s men are holding the outer blocks. Torch and Blayze are covering the rear alley.”
“Allura?” I ask.
“Raven’s sealing the upper windows,” she responds. “We’ll ride out once Divine kills the signal.”
In the tunnel, Annabelle whimpers in Calypso’s arms. “Mama, it’s dark.”
Calypso kisses her forehead. “I know, baby. But we’re brave, right?”
“Brave,” Annabelle echoes, small but strong.
I crouch, meeting her eyes. “You remember what Aunt Rebel said? Brave means keep walking, even when you’re scared.”
She nods and tightens her grip.
Carter’s voice bursts through comms. “Rebel, get clear. The trace is heating up. It’s not just a data breach. It’s a location ping. They’re using the servers to triangulate the compound.”
“How long do we have?” I demand.
Divine’s reply is brittle. “Less than fifteen minutes. I’m seeing active drones mobilizing downtown.”
“Allura!” I shout. “They’re coming. Now.”
Allura’s voice turns pure command. “Everyone underground. Seal the doors. Raven, French, Carter, you’re with me topside.”
The ground vibrates with a low, pulsing hum that’s not just thunder. Its engines. Dozens of them.
Carter meets me at the tunnel entrance, eyes sharp, face streaked with sweat. “We’ve got company. Real soon.”
“Then let’s welcome ’em properly,” I say, cocking my pistol.
He catches my arm. “Not you. You get them clear.” He nods to the women and children behind us.
“I’m not hiding while you die.”
His grip tightens. “You’re not hiding. You’re leading.”
Before I can answer, Divine’s voice cuts through, high and panicked. “They’ve activated the reaper key again. The code’s looping over and over, it’s war drums, Rebel. In digital.”
“Then play ’em loud,” I say, stepping into the dark. “Let the bastards know we’re awake.”
Carter’s hand brushes mine once, a touch heavy with everything we can’t say. Then he turns, running back toward the sound of engines and fire.
The tunnel door seals behind us, cutting off the sound of engines. Carter’s last words still echo through my head. “You’re not hiding, you’re leading.”
Then Divine’s voice breaks through the static, tight, terrified. “They’re inside the system again. They’re rewriting the access keys.”
“What does that mean?” I demand.
“It means if we don’t stop them now,” she gasps, “they’ll turn the shelter network into a kill list.”
A thunderclap rolls above. Not thunder, explosions.
Carter’s voice rips through the comms, raw and alive. “Rebel, RUN!”
But I don’t. I grab my gun and sprint toward the noise.
Because the Royal Harlots don’t run from war. We ride into it.