Chapter Nineteen #2
“What do you mean?” My voice comes out strangled, but I have to play this right. I have to stay in character. “What did he die for?”
Sin raises a hand, silencing Nitro’s protest. Those mismatched eyes bore into mine, searching, weighing, deciding. The silence stretches so long I think I might scream.
“Is anything we say off the record?” Sin finally asks. “Can we trust you at all?”
My mind races, the weight of gravity pulling me into this moment. The moment I’ve been working toward since I walked through these doors. The truth about Marcus is right there, inches away, and all I have to do is say the right words.
“Yes.” The word comes out hoarse. “This conversation is off the record. You have my word.”
Nitro makes a sound of disgust. “Her word? That’s worth about as much as—”
“Enough.” Sin’s command cuts through the room. He keeps his eyes locked on mine, searching for something. Truth, maybe. Or trustworthiness. I don’t know what he is looking for, but all I am sending him back is clear desperation.
Because that’s what I am.
Desperate for answers on my brother.
“We’ll tell you what happened to Marcus.
” My heart stutters. “But Elizabeth…” He leans forward, and the weight of his stare pins me to the chair.
“This information doesn’t leave this room.
It affects more people than you know. It goes higher than you know.
We’re still working on it. If you spill a word of this, you’ll jeopardize lives. Do. You. Understand the importance?”
I nod, unable to speak.
Sin takes a breath, and for the first time since I’ve known him, he looks tired.
Worn down by the weight of secrets. “Marcus was a good man,” he begins.
“One of the best prospects we’d ever had.
Moral compass like you wouldn’t believe.
He couldn’t stand by when he saw something wrong.
” He pauses. “That’s what got him killed. ”
The room spins, and I grip the edge of the table to steady myself, trying to look like a shocked journalist instead of a devastated sister.
“He was doing security runs for us at various clubs,” Sin continues.
“And he stumbled onto something. Girls being moved through private casino rooms. Young women disappearing into the underground network.” His voice hardens.
“Marcus discovered that Captain Victor Rourke, a high-ranking member of the Las Vegas Police Department, was working with The Hidden Hand Alliance.”
My stomach falls through the floor, but I try to keep my face impartial.
“Rourke is giving the Alliance certain freedoms to traffic the women in the city. Basically, the Alliance pays him off, and he looks the other way, or even helps them out of sticky situations. Having a captain of the police on side is helpful. Why do you think they’re able to run the casinos in Vegas like they do, going unchecked? ”
My eyes widen, shock registering on my face. It hits like a freight train, my breath caught in my throat as I stare blankly at Sin like my world is falling out from beneath me. “That’s…” I breathe. “That’s impossible. A police captain?”
“It’s true.” Ghost’s voice is quiet but certain. “Marcus gathered evidence. He was planning to turn it over to the FBI. But Rourke found out.”
My vision tunnels, the walls close in, but I have to keep playing the role, I have to react like Elizabeth Hale, the journalist, not Victoria Delaney, the sister and rookie detective.
“What h-happened?” I whisper.
“Rourke pulled him over,” Sin says, each word careful and deliberate. “Made it look like a routine traffic stop. He shot Marcus. Planted drugs on him. Then called it in as a DUI. Said Marcus was so inebriated with drugs that he wrecked his bike, and that killed him.”
He pauses before continuing, “But Marcus’ bike wasn’t damaged, so Rouke grabbed a tire iron from his patrol car and made sure to make it look like it was.
We knew Marcus was a hard no for drugs, so that’s also what made us start digging.
There was no autopsy because Rourke didn’t want the death to be ruled as a gunshot.
He just made it all disappear like it meant nothing.
“But we saw the red flags instantly. So, we started digging, and Ghost hacked into Marcus’ cell and found a voice recording around the time of his death.
The fucker had his cell recording the entire incident in his jeans pocket.
But because it’s just a voice clip, it’s not admissible in court.
We couldn’t use it as evidence against Rourke, so once we put all the pieces together…
well, we’ve been trying to figure out a way to bring this fucker down ever since. ”
A strangled sound escapes my throat before I can stop it.
I press my hand to my mouth, and this time the tears that spring to my eyes are genuinely raw and uncontrollable.
“That’s not possible,” I manage. “The report said it was a motorcycle accident. I researched it. There were photos of the scene—”
“The report was a cover-up.” Sin’s voice gentles, and somehow that makes it worse.
“We found out the truth through our connections. And we had to make a choice. Expose what really happened and risk starting a war with corrupt law enforcement, risk putting innocent people in the crossfire…” he pauses, “… or keep it quiet. Protect Marcus’ family, who had no idea what he’d stumbled into.
If they went digging, Rourke or The Alliance could go after them too.
So, we chose to work to dismantle the operation from the inside. ”
“We chose to protect them,” Ghost adds, his eyes falling on me. “We stayed quiet, went with the accident story. Made sure the investigation stayed minimal. Keep his family safe while we work to gather evidence against Rourke and the Hidden Hand Alliance.”
My brother. My beautiful, reckless brother, whom I thought had died in some stupid accident, was murdered.
By a cop.
By someone in my own department.
By my fucking boss.
No, my boss’ boss!
And I have to sit here and pretend I’m just a journalist hearing this for the first time.
“His family…” I choke out, playing my role even as my heart shatters. “Does his family know?”
“No.” Sin’s tone is firm. “And they can’t. Not until we have enough evidence to bring Rourke down. If they go to the authorities now, if they start asking questions, Rourke will know we’re onto him. He’ll disappear, or worse, he’ll go after them.”
The irony would be funny if it weren’t so horrifying.
They’re protecting Marcus’ family.
Protecting me.
Protecting Victoria Delaney.
And I’m sitting right here, and they have no idea.
I study Sin’s face, looking for any sign that this is a test. That they know who I really am, and they’re watching to see how I react. But all I see is genuine concern and wariness.
“You’re lying.” But even as I say it, I know they’re not. Everything clicks into place. The inconsistencies in the accident report. The way the investigation was shut down so quickly. “This can’t be real.”
“We’ve been working on this for years,” Sin says. “Trying to gather enough evidence to expose Rourke without compromising the people we’ve got inside, without risking more lives. It’s slow. It’s dangerous. And now you know why we need to keep it secret.”
My hands are shaking so hard I have to press them flat against the table. “Why would you tell me this? I could print it. I could blow this whole thing wide open tomorrow.”
“Could you?” Sin’s eyes lock onto mine. “Could you really print a story that would get innocent people killed? That would let a corrupt cop and a trafficking ring walk free because we don’t have enough evidence to prove Rourke’s connection yet?
” He leans closer. “Or are you the kind of journalist who understands that sometimes the truth has to wait for the exact right moment?”
It’s a test.
He’s testing me.
And I have to pass.
“I-I…” My voice cracks. I swallow hard, trying to compose myself. “This is bigger than I thought. This isn’t just a story about a motorcycle club. This is—”
“This is life and death,” Ghost finishes. “For a lot of people.”
“I need to think.” I stand on shaky legs. “I need to process this.”
“Take all the time you need,” Sin says, but his tone makes it clear I’m not going anywhere until he’s satisfied. “But Elizabeth, I need to know this right now. Can we trust you to keep this quiet? Or do we have a problem?” The threat hangs in the air, unspoken but clear.
If I can’t be trusted, I become a liability, and the club deals with liabilities permanently.
But all I can think about is Marcus.
About the fact that he died trying to do the right thing.
That he was murdered by someone who was supposed to uphold the law.
That these bikers, these criminals I was sent to investigate, have been the ones fighting for justice all along.
“You have my word,” I whisper. “I won’t print anything. Not until this is over. Not until you’ve taken down Rourke and the people he’s working with.”
Sin studies me for a long moment, and then he nods. “Good.”
“Can I ask…” I have to know, I have to push just a little further. “What was he like? Marcus?”
Sin’s expression softens fractionally. “Like I said… good man. Moral to his core. He reminded me of—” He stops himself. “He reminded me why we do what we do. Why we fight for people who can’t fight for themselves.”
A tear escapes, tracking hot down my cheek. I swipe at it quickly, trying to maintain the facade. “His family… they deserve to know the truth, Sin.”
“They will,” Sin replies. “When it’s safe. When we can give them justice instead of just answers.” I nod, not trusting myself to speak. “This doesn’t leave the Chapel,” Sin says, addressing Ghost and Nitro. “Elizabeth’s word is good with me.”
Nitro still looks wary, but he nods.
Ghost’s expression is unreadable.
As we move toward the door, I turn back to look at Sin. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For telling me. For trying to protect his family.”
Something flickers across his face, relief maybe, or hope. “We’re not the bad guys, wildcat. We’ve been trying to tell you that all along.”
The doors open, and I step back into the clubhouse. But nothing looks the same anymore.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
Because now I know the truth about what happened to Marcus, but for some reason, I wish I were still in the dark. And the biggest truth, the one that sits like a stone in my chest, is that they’re protecting me without knowing it’s me they’re protecting.
I’m Marcus Delaney’s sister.
And I’m standing in a room full of the only people who have been fighting for him.
The only people who know he was murdered.
The only people trying to get him justice.
And I can’t tell them who I am without blowing everything apart.
So, I have to keep lying.
Even though the truth is destroying me from the inside out.