Chapter 28
CHAPTER 28
MACKENZIE
“T he entire shipment? Are you fucking sure?” Flynn shouts, his voice bouncing off the stone walls of the chapel. The weight of his fury presses down on all of us.
We’re gathered in the heart of St. Jude’s, the chapel, a place that should be sacred but has long been tainted by the dealings and deviance of leaders like us. We sit at the long, polished table in front of the altar. Around us, members stand in clusters, murmuring in low voices, waiting for a resolution.
“Certain,” Eros confirms, his jaw tight as he leans forward, his fingers laced together on the table. "And I have it on good authority that Diego Santiago’s jet and boats were spotted at the Blackwood."
“Santiago knows better than to double-cross us,” Jenson says, his eyes narrowing. “We have a contract.”
“Yes, which is what—enforceable?” Roxanne chimes in, arching a perfectly sculpted brow. “Seriously, I shouldn’t even be hearing this conversation.”
Roxanne, the hotshot attorney. Larken’s wife. Her presence alone makes some of the older Guild members shift uncomfortably. It’s one thing to have legal counsel on retainer. It’s another to have her sitting at the table, listening to every dirty little secret.
“Look,” Larken says, giving his wife a subtle warning glance, “We contact Santiago and straighten this out. Maybe they got the docks mixed up.”
“Unlikely,” I murmur, keeping my tone neutral.
Heads snap toward me. I’ve been quiet for most of the meeting, watching, calculating. But I know this isn’t some simple mix-up. There’s a new player in town.
One I fucked a few nights ago.
“Why do you say that?” Flynn asks, his gaze sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade.
I meet his stare, unflinching. He’s a man who knows when someone is holding back. And he especially knows me. “I just don’t think Santiago is working alone. It’s not like the cartel to renege on an agreement.”
Silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating.
Flynn watches me for a beat longer before speaking. “If they aren’t working alone, then who the fuck are they working with?”
My heart pounds. I already know the answer.
Creed.
But saying his name in this room? With the Guild already on high alert, already bracing for war? It would be suicide. And yet, I can’t protect him. Not this time.
Because if it’s true—if he’s behind this—then he’s made his choice.
And I need to make mine.
A tense silence spreads through the room.
“Mackenzie?” Flynn demands, his voice edged with steel.
I hesitate.
Jenson leans forward, his fingers drumming against the wood. “Kenzie?” His tone is quieter, but no less dangerous. “You clearly know something. Spill.”
All eyes are on me, waiting. Expecting.
“I…” I exhale sharply, clenching my fists beneath the table. “I think Creed might be involved.” The words feel like a betrayal, but to who? The man who fucked me while making it clear he hates me. The man who has my daughter and her family held God knows where.
A sharp silence follows, only to be broken by a low chuckle. Flynn shakes his head, pushing back from the table. “Oh, this just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?” His laughter dies quickly. “You better tell us what you know, Yates. Now.”
He’s angry and understandably. I meet his gaze, keeping my shoulders squared even as my pulse thrums in my ears. “I don’t know much. But he’s got a wide network, and it is no secret he hates the Guild.”
Jenson swears under his breath. Larken shifts in his seat, watching me with an unreadable expression.
“That’s a bold accusation,” Eros finally says, leaning back. “You’re sure about this?”
I nod, my throat tightening. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.”
The air in the room turns suffocating, thick with barely contained fury.
Flynn pushes up from his chair, adjusting the cuffs of his black button-down. “Then I guess it’s time we pay Mackenzie’s old flame a visit.”
He’s already heading for the door when I stand, my heart hammering. “No. Not yet.”
Flynn stops, glancing over his shoulder. “And why the fuck not?”
“Because we don’t know the full extent of what he’s done.” My voice steadies. “If you go in blind, you’ll just be giving them more ammunition to use against us.”
That makes them pause. Flynn’s jaw tightens. “Then what do you suggest?”
I take a breath, steadying myself before speaking. “We find out exactly what he took, where it went, and who he’s really working with. If he’s moved against the Guild, we need proof before we act. Otherwise, we’re just playing into his hands.”
Jenson studies me, then nods. “She’s right.”
Flynn lets out a slow breath, then cracks his knuckles. “Fine. But if we find out he and Diego are fucking us over…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to. Because if Creed has done this, there will be no coming back from it. The Guild is slow to forgive-if ever.
* * *
Creed is meeting me at the docks. I sit in my SUV, gripping the steering wheel, watching as his sleek black Beamer pulls up beside me. The wind off the water is sharp, carrying the scent of salt and diesel, but it does nothing to cool the fire burning beneath my skin.
He steps out of the car, dressed in dark jeans and a fitted black sweater, sleeves pushed up to reveal the veins in his forearms. He looks calm. Too calm. Like a man who has already decided how this conversation will go.
I shove open my door and step out, slamming it behind me. “Took you long enough.”
Creed’s expression is unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes—a storm brewing beneath the surface. “What do you want, Mackenzie?”
I scoff, crossing my arms. “You already fucking know.”
He exhales through his nose, glancing out at the water. “You think I owe you an explanation?”
“You don’t just owe me an explanation, Creed. You owe me the fucking truth.” I take a step closer, tilting my head. “So tell me. Did you take the shipment?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he watches me, like he’s measuring the weight of his next words. “You already know. Why bother asking?”
I shove him, hard enough that he stumbles back a step. “Stop playing games! Did you take it?”
Creed rubs his jaw, then meets my gaze. “Yes.”
The word slams into me like a freight train. I stagger back, my chest tightening. “Jesus Christ, Creed.”
“You wanted the truth,” he says, voice deceptively smooth.
I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. “You don’t even fucking care, do you?”
“Care about what?” His voice is cold, detached. “The Guild? The same people who helped you frame me? You took twelve fucking years of my life.”
“This isn’t just about the Guild!” I snap, my pulse pounding. “This is about me. About—” My voice catches, and I force myself to swallow it down. “I came here to talk to you. To warn you that they do not take these things lightly. And you—” My breath shudders. “You just…” I realize that I’ve had enough of trying to make this man see reason. I haven’t defended myself because he never gave me a fucking chance.
Creed’s jaw ticks, but his expression doesn’t change. “No one made you do this, Mackenzie. That was your choice.”
The words slice through me like a blade. I shake my head, my hands trembling at my sides. “You know what? Fuck you.” My voice is unsteady, but I refuse to back down. “I never put you behind bars, my mother did. I had no idea what dealings you had with her, so how the hell was I supposed to frame a grown-ass man at eighteen? I dropped my phone. That is all I fucking did.”
Creed watches me, but his expression remains cold, unreadable.
“And Gabriella—” I scoff bitterly, the pain rising to the surface, raw and unfiltered. “I came to tell you I was pregnant, but you wouldn’t even let me get a word in.”
His entire body stiffens.
A shadow crosses his face, his breath hitching ever so slightly, but he masks it just as quickly. “What?”
I let out a hollow laugh, the weight of everything pressing down on me. “Does it even matter now?” I take a shaky step back. “You made your choice, Creed. And now, I’m making mine.”
I turn and walk away, leaving him standing there, his world shifting beneath his feet just as mine had the moment he chose to betray me.