24. Cipher
CIPHER
T he phone clicked off, and I stood there, gripping it so hard my knuckles turned white. Volkov’s laughter still echoed in my head, a twisted melody of control and cruelty. The bastard wanted to make sure I knew he held all the cards, but he underestimated one thing: when I played, I didn’t play by the rules.
I tossed the phone onto the counter and leaned on it, my breath coming in sharp bursts. My badge, glinting under the dim light of the lamp, caught my eye. It felt like a huge weight on my shoulders. Justice wouldn’t save Mila, not this time. No, this wasn’t about the law. This was about retribution.
"Cipher?" Aiyana’s voice cut through the damning thoughts raging in my head. I turned to see her standing in the doorway, her dark eyes scanning my face with concern. She knew me better than anyone, knew the shift happening inside me.
“It’s Volkov,” I said, my voice low, almost a growl. “He has Mila.”
Aiyana’s jaw tightened, and the worry in her eyes hardened into determination. “What are you thinking?”
I reached for my leather jacket, the familiar weight of it grounding me as I shrugged it on. The patch on the back—Royal Bastards MC—caught the light, a complete contrast to the badge I carried. Without hesitation, I unclipped the badge from my belt and placed it beside the phone.
“The plan is simple,” I said, meeting her gaze. “We bring Bulldog in. This isn’t a cop’s fight anymore. This is family business.”
Her eyes widened as she realized this wasn’t a fight she was prepared for, but the fire in her eyes mirrored the one blazing in my chest. She nodded. “You’re not going in alone.”
“Forget it,” I rounded my desk, heading for the door. “You;re staying here.”
“The hell I will.”
“Bulldog will never forgive me for bringing you in.”
“Bulldog’s my man not my keeper. And I’m still a cop…
“And a damn good one!” I whirled on her. “You’ll ruin your damn reputation detetctive.”
She nodded. “Listen to me, little boy. I knew what I was doing when I fucked an outlaw. I either ride with you, or I go off on my own, either way, I’ll be there.”
“So will I,” Ray’s voice resounded from the doorway.
“You have to be fucking kidding me.”
Ray nodded. “With Aiyana and I there, we can protect you. I know you don’t want or need it, but something happens to Volkov, the FBI will have questions. Let us handle the questions.”
I glanced from one determined face to the other and I cursed. I pointed at Aiyana, “Fuck it, but you’ll be the one handling the Prez when he tells you to heel.”
She smirked. “You forget who’s the dog in the relationship, Detective. Hence the nickname. Don’t you forget that.”
She swung passed me and I shook my head. “He better not ever hear her say that,” I muttered and Ray smirked.
“I don’t think she gives a shit.”
I stared after them both, my gut telling me this was a bad idea. That woman’s sass was going to get her killed one of these days.
The roar of the bike’s engine cut through the cool night air as Aiyana’s pulled up behind me into the Royal Bastards’ clubhouse lot. The familiar scent of grease, leather, and smoke hit me, grounding me for the welcome I was about to receive. Aiyana slid out of the black sedan, straightening her jacket and smoothing her hair as if she was about to take on a den of outlaws. Her expression was sharp, confident, a reminder that this woman could hold her own anywhere. Ray, on the other hand, looked like he was about to shit his pants.
Inside, the clubhouse was alive with noise. The scent of cheap whiskey and the constant low hum of conversation mingled with the occasional burst of raucous laughter. Bulldog’s voice cut through it all as he leaned against the bar, barking something at Guardian, who was nursing a beer. The moment Bulldog caught sight of us, his face darkened.
“Cipher. Detective ,” Bulldog grunted, his gaze narrowing in on Aiyana as she pulled back her jacket, her badge shining as she looked around the clubhouse. All eyes were suddenly on her, since this wasn’t her usual appearance. She was here as the law, not as the outlaw’s woman.
Bulldog’s voice was low and sharp, carrying an undercurrent of concern he was trying hard to mask. “What the hell is this?”
Aiyana’s eyes glinted with defiance, her arms crossing over her chest in a way that said she wasn’t taking his shit—not tonight. Her badge catching a glint in the dim light, a quick reminder of her authority.
“Don’t start with me, Bulldog. I’m not some damsel you can shove in a corner. I’mhere on business to back up my partner. And he called me in because I’m damn good at what I do.”
“Well, I didn’t really ask you to-” she gave me a death glare and I quickly quieted.
Bulldog’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening by his sides. “Backup for what exactly?”
I stepped forward, cutting through the brewing tension. “We don’t have time for this shit. Volkov took Mila.”
The room fell silent. The sound of a glass hitting the bar was the only noise, followed by Bulldog’s slow exhale. He straightened, his expression shifting from irritation to sharp focus.
“Start talking,” he said, his tone deadly.
I nodded. “Volkov got to her. He called me, let me hear her voice—she’s alive, but not for long if we don’t move fast. He’s holding her somewhere, using her as leverage. This isn’t just about her anymore, Bulldog. This is about cleaning up what’s left of Volkov’s family once and for all.”
“So you decided it was a good idea to bring my woman into this?”
Aiyana smirked. “Fine. I brought myself into this. Besides, it’s a case I’m working and my work has never been any of your concern.”
The room fell silent as Bulldog turned to her. “You’re my woman, Aiyana. That makes this my concern.” His voice cracked with a mixture of protectiveness and frustration, his usual ironclad composure slipping.
Aiyana smirked, tilting her head like she was about to enjoy the verbal sparring. “Your woman?” she repeated, her tone teasing but edged with steel. “Fine. I’ll give you that. But last I checked, being your woman doesn’t mean I sit back and let you take all the bullets. I’m here. I’m staying. And unless you plan to physically carry me out—which we both know you won’t—you’d better make peace with it.”
Silencer leaned against the table, arms crossed, watching the exchange like it was a prizefight he had front-row seats to. “She’s got a point,” ever the wiseass, he chimed in, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Bulldog’s eyes flicked to him, irritation sparking. “You’re not helping.”
“Not trying to.” Silencer shrugged.
Aiyana stepped closer to Bulldog, her voice dropping, though her fiery tone remained intact. “Look, I know you’re worried about me. But I can handle myself, and you know it. You don’t get to wrap me in bubble wrap because you’re scared, Bulldog. I’m in this with you—whether you like it or not.”
For a moment, the tension hung heavy, Bulldog’s chest rising and falling as he stared her down. Then, with a deep, reluctant exhale, he muttered, “Damn it, woman, you’re gonna give me a stroke.”
Aiyana grinned, stepping back with a satisfied tilt of her chin. “Guess you’d better start taking better care of yourself then, old man.”
Bulldog let out a low growl but turned back to the room. “Fine. You stay. But you follow my orders to the letter. Got it?”
“Crystal clear,” Aiyana said sweetly, though the glint in her eyes suggested she’d be doing whatever she damn well pleased.
Bulldog muttered under his breath before raising his voice to the others.Jaw tightening, his fists clenching. The tension in the room thickened like a storm cloud. “Goddamn it,” he growled. “All right. Church. Now.”
He slammed his fist on the bar, and the sound echoed like a gunshot. Members dropped what they were doing, leaving beers and card games abandoned as they filed into the back room. Bulldog led the way, his presence commanding. Aiyana and I followed, her steps purposeful despite the glares thrown her way.
The Church room was dim, lit by a single overhead light that cast shadows over the table and the patched brothers surrounding it. Bulldog took his seat at the head, his eyes scanning the room like a wolf sizing up his pack.
“All right,” Bulldog said, his voice cutting through the tension. “Cipher, spill it. Everything.”
I laid it out for them. The call, Volkov’s taunts, the sound of Mila’s breathing. Every detail that could be a clue to her location. The room stayed silent as I spoke, every man present focused, their anger simmering just beneath the surface.
When I finished, Bulldog leaned back in his chair, his face like granite. “These Russian pricks have been a thorn in our side for years,” he said. “And now this fucker’s crossed a line he’s not walking back from. We’re gonna end him. Tonight.”
“We’ll need a plan,” Guardian said, his voice calm but firm. “He’ll have backup. Guys like Volkov don’t work alone.”
“And Mila?” Grim added, his eyes dark. “If we go in guns blazing, we could get her killed.”
“Which is why we’re not going in blind,” Bulldog snapped. He looked to Aiyana and Ray, his expression still sour but begrudgingly respectful. “Detectives, you’re here. Make yourself useful. What can you pull on Volkov? Properties, connections, anything that might tell us where he’s holed up.”
Aiyana smirked, pulling out her phone. “Already working on it.”
“Good,” Bulldog said. “Grim, Guardian, Saddle—get the weapons ready. We’ll need a clean loadout—nothing traceable. Cipher, you’re with me. We’ll go over the layout of Volkov’s known hideouts and figure out where he’s most likely keeping Mila.”
He paused, his eyes sweeping the room. “This isn’t just about Mila. Volkov’s the last of his line, and when he’s gone, that’s it. We take him out tonight, and we take our lives back. No more looking over our shoulders. No more wondering when the next hit’s coming.”
The men nodded, their expressions grim and determined. The air was electric, the promise of violence hanging heavy. Bulldog’s gaze landed on me. “You ready for this, Cipher? You ready to do what it takes?”
I met his eyes, my jaw set. “Whatever it takes.”
“Good,” he said. He looked around the room, his voice rising. “Get to it. We roll out in an hour.”
The room erupted into motion, men scattering to prepare. Aiyana lingered by my side, her expression unreadable.
“You sure about this?” she asked quietly.
I nodded. “This isn’t about the badge anymore. This is about family. And I’m not letting Volkov take another one of mine.”
She placed a hand on my arm, her grip firm. “Then let’s finish it.”