Chapter 2
Wrecker
At seven sharp I slid into the war room—second floor, right off the kitchen, because Bronc liked to keep his enemies and his caffeine close.
The walls were hung with yellowed maps and an old Texas flag, cracked along the blue field from a century of neglect.
The table in the center was a plank of oak, maybe the only original thing left in the compound, its surface carved with a thousand knife scratches and at least two bullet holes.
Bronc was already there, elbows on the wood, palms steepled.
Arsenal and Doc flanked him, both in full leathers, neither looking like they’d slept.
Gunner, the new enforcer, loitered near the window, his hands jammed in his pockets, eyes fixed on the horizon.
Big Papa was there, carrying peace with him, a black coffee steaming in his huge mitt, the other hand flipping through a Bible as if there’d be an answer in the margins.
No one talked. Even the house had gone quiet, the overnight crowd either gone or passed out in a corner.
Bronc nodded at me. “Wrecker,” he said, “you got something?”
I slid into the chair opposite him; the vinyl creaking under my weight. I let the silence build, then set the thumb drive on the table and nudged it across.
“They got the best to fuck us over, that’s for sure,” I said. “They’re bouncing signals off a dozen nodes, some I didn’t even know existed. Took a minute to get a bead, and when I did…” I thumbed the drive. “I don’t understand why, but the one doing it used to be one of us—Parker Reid.”
Arsenal’s eyebrows flicked up, but he didn’t say a word.
Doc scratched his jaw. “Axel’s little sister?”
“Twin,” I said. “She’s got a degree in comp sci, apparently used to run black hat ops for Amarillo State back when she was a sophomore.
After their parents died, she went on to Texas Tech and then went off-grid for a while.
She’d been working legit corporate jobs and doing corporate contracted IT for the past year.
That’s where the money is.” I shrugged. “She’s good.
Not as good as me, but close enough to make it interesting. ”
Bronc leaned forward. His eyes had that cold, glassy edge they got before a fight. “Why now?”
I shook my head. “Doesn’t make sense. She’s not hurting for money—her house is paid off, she freelances for three Fortune 500 companies. But she’s been poking at our perimeter for a few weeks. Not subtle, either. Almost like she wants us to catch her.”
Big Papa set his cup down, careful not to spill. “Maybe she’s trying to send a message.”
“Maybe,” I said. “It’s possible she’s wanting us to find her breadcrumbs.”
Bronc nodded, absorbing, gears turning behind the eyes. “Who else knows about this?”
I snorted. “Just us and whoever hired her to do it. I covered the tracks, salted the logs. If you want to keep it in the family, we can.”
Doc looked up, eyes sharp. “What do we do about her?”
I shrugged again. “She’s working for the people who are fucking us over. The end game is finding out who and why. Ghosting her might be the best way to do that.”
Arsenal grunted. “I say we bring her in. See what she wants.”
Bronc shot him a look. “And if she’s tight-lipped? Won’t talk?”
Arsenal smiled, all teeth and old wounds. “Then we make her.”
A silence fell, thick as oil. The only sound was the ticking of the wall clock, the second hand stuttering on the twelve.
Bronc turned to me. “You sure it’s her?”
“Yeah,” I said. “IP addresses don’t lie, Bronc.”
He nodded once, then again, like he was getting ready to kill a man he used to call a brother. “We do this clean. No heat, no blowback. Set it up, Wrecker. Do whatever you have to do to find out who the hell she’s working for. Any means necessary. I’m fucking tired of this shit.”
Gunner shifted by the window. “What about Skeeter?” he asked. “He’s growing old in that cell.”
Bronc waved it off. “I’m about ready to deal with that little prick as well.”
I raised a hand. “It’s clearly time. Let’s knock off that easy problem.”
He smiled, but it was the kind of smile that meant nothing. “By all means, let’s.”
Meeting adjourned.
The rest filed out, one by one. Only Bronc lingered, tapping a finger on the table.
He waited until we were alone, then leaned in. “What does your gut tell you, Eli?”
I shook my head. “She’s not doing it for cash.
This is too dirty. She doesn’t need the money to be involved in something this underhanded.
Plus, this doesn’t fucking seem like something she’d do.
She comes home every month for the Moon Run.
Then she all of a sudden, wants to betray us?
Something smells. If they have a hold on her, it’s personal. ”
He grunted. “Axel?”
“Maybe. Or maybe she started hating us for some reason. Can’t think of a reason why. We were fucking aces to those two.”
He laughed, a low, humorless laugh. “Shit, if she’s in the ‘hates Iron Valor’ camp, she needs to take a fucking number.”
We shared a genuine, if not an ironic laugh at that.
“Whatever the reason, I’m gonna find it.”
We gathered at Skeeter’s cell at the Iron Valor jailhouse late in the afternoon.
He’d been locked up for about three weeks now.
We’d planned on making this situation short and sweet, but then Menace had to go fight and die, then get not so dead, then get himself crowned king of the Midwest. That took some time to shake out.
But here we were, finally confronting Skeeter about just who the fuck he was working for.
Skeeter totally looked the worse for wear. He was scared, and he fucking well should be. He’d been stealing from our Alpha for fucking months. He’d tell us why, or he’d pay for it with his life. The cot in the corner of the cell was filthy, and on it he sat, looking old and defeated.
“J’come to finish me off? See you brought all your men. Too afraid to face me alone?” He sneered at Bronc.
Bronc just shook his head. “If you wanna just run your mouth while you can, don’t guess I’ll stop you. I’m holding all the cards here, old man.”
He clearly wanted the opportunity. “You motherfuckers,” he wheezed, spitting onto the floor. “You got no idea what you’re up against.”
I’d joined him in his cell and let him finish, then put my hands on his shoulders.
“I do, Skeet. I know exactly what I’m up against. I’ve been up against it since I was old enough to walk.
” I leaned in, voice low. “You know what I don’t know?
Why you’d choose to go against a pack you spent your entire life with? ”
His head jerked, a twitch of pride or pain, impossible to tell. “What’s it matter? You’re all dead, anyway. No one beats who I’m working with.”
Gunner stepped up, jaw set, arms crossed. “You might wanna think about our track record you dumb fuck. Iron Valor hasn’t ever been beaten.”
“This ain’t like before,” Skeeter said, and grinned, blood leaking from the crack in his lip.
I paced in front of him slow, deliberate. The air was cold and stank of oil and fear. The chill of the Texas panhandle winter was just settling in, but what I felt was the wet chill of something bad about to happen.
“Let’s play a game,” I said. “You tell me who paid you, and I let you walk out of here with all your fingers.”
He snorted, a wet, ugly sound. “Fuck you, Wrecker.”
I didn’t argue. I just backhanded him, hard enough to ring his ears. He spat teeth and blood onto the floor. “Fuck you,” he said again.
Arsenal grunted, but kept his place. Gunner flinched, but he was new. He’d learn.
“Listen,” I said, dropping to a knee, so we were eye to eye.
“I don’t have time for this. You’re not gonna talk, not because you’re brave, but because you’re a coward and you know what your puppet master will do if you roll on them.
” I let that sink in. “But I’m here to tell you that whatever they got planned, I can do worse. ”
He looked away, jaw clamped.
Skeeter’s lip curled, his voice sharp as a blade in the thick silence of the pack jail.
“You call this leadership?” He jabbed a finger toward Bronc, who stood motionless near the cell entrance, his jaw taut.
“Kidnappings, an outsider becoming Luna, infighting—all of it’s on you.
Liam Senior would’ve spit at the sight of what you’ve done.
We needed a real Alpha after he died. Someone who’d earned their scars, not some pup playing at power.
” His gaze swept the room, daring others to meet it.
“Should’ve been me stepping up. At least I wouldn’t let one of our daughters get snatched, then not be worth squat when she came back until she couldn’t even stand to live in her own body anymore. ”
“Enough.” The growl ripped from my throat, low and thunderous, my body a wall blotting out the light in the room as I stepped forward. The air turned rancid with the reek of challenge, my fur prickling beneath human skin, ready to burst.
Skeeter’s sneer flashed, all teeth and stupidity. “Or what? You’ll lick his boots harder? Face it—Bronc’s a failure. Always has been. His old man knew it too. Why else would he waste time salvaging strays instead of—”
The world sharpened, then dissolved into red.
I was a storm. A snarl shredded my lips as I lunged, claws slicing free.
Skeeter’s smirk died in a gurgle as I pinned him to the wall, stone splintering under his skull.
“You don’t speak his name,” I hissed, vision bleeding gold, fangs grazing his pulsing throat.
“Liam Senior saved me. Gave me a pack. A brother.” My claws dug deeper, blood blooming hot beneath them.
“Bronc’s worth ten of you. And I’ll peel the skin from your bones before I let you spit on that. ”
Bronc’s voice lashed behind me. “Wrecker! Stand down—now!”
But the past howled louder—dank foster rooms, empty bellies, the beast gnawing at my ribs. Liam’s calloused hand on my shoulder. Bronc’s grin as we wrestled in the pines. Family.