Chapter 2
BLITZ
Edge and Kane were already waiting in Kane’s office by the time I stepped inside.
The heavy oak door closed solidly behind me, and I immediately felt the weight of their attention as I crossed the familiar room.
Kane sat behind his massive walnut desk, seeing far more than he revealed.
Edge leaned against the wall nearby, flipping a knife idly between his fingers, his green eyes locked firmly on me, and his movie star-worthy smile nowhere to be seen.
I drew a slow breath, forcing myself to keep calm as I took the empty chair across from Kane. Without preamble, I laid everything out clearly. Each detail about Tripp’s betrayal was carefully outlined, concise yet thorough enough that they fully understood the gravity of the situation.
“The FBI must have created a background for him that was mostly true so that he wouldn’t have to lie as much. Or more likely, because they knew that if Jax started pulling at a thread, it wasn’t gonna hold up to his skill. Probably only removed the shit that pointed to a career in law enforcement.”
Edge’s hand tightened slightly around the handle of his knife, the blade glinting under the office lights. His voice carried a lethal edge beneath the dry humor. “The fucker played us all this time. I say we gut him and dump him in the Everglades.”
Kane cut a look of silent warning in his direction, but Edge just shrugged and smirked. Kane shifted his gaze back to me, watching me with a calm intensity that made even the strongest men want to shift uneasily in their seats.
“He needs to go. Scar him and cut him loose. Make sure he never fucking shows his face around here again.”
“I get where you’re coming from.” I held Kane’s gaze. “But we need leverage first. Prospects don’t know club secrets, but they still see enough to be dangerous if they want to cause problems. We need to be sure Tripp won’t bring shit to our doorstep.”
Kane leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. Edge continued flipping his knife quietly, clearly wanting more immediate justice, but he stayed silent as his brother considered the point.
“You have a plan in mind?” Kane finally asked, his probing gaze never wavering from mine.
I hesitated just for a moment. The Redline Kings were my family, and he’d played on my trust, mocking the very loyalty we lived and died by. This was personal, and it had already rooted itself too deep inside me to ignore.
I wasn’t ready to share the rough plan starting to develop in my head with them fully, though. Kane would likely shut it down immediately. And if he didn’t, Savannah would hand both of us our asses when she found out. But I needed to handle this my way.
“It’s my fuckup,” I explained. “I brought Tripp in and vouched for him. Trusted him. I need to be the one to deal with this directly. Let me handle it.”
Kane studied me carefully for another long moment. “Blitz, you can’t rake yourself over the coals forever on this. You see damn near everything, but you’re still human. You trusted someone. Wanting to see the best in your friend doesn’t make you weak. It makes you loyal, and it makes you human.”
I nodded, though the guilt still lingered beneath the surface. Kane was trying to pull me back from the brink, reminding me not to drown myself in blame. I appreciated it, even if I wasn’t fully ready to accept his words yet.
Finally, Kane leaned back again in his chair. “All right. You handle it your way. For now.”
I stood, grateful for his approval, and as I walked out, the plan developed more fully in my head, crystallizing into something colder than before.
I’d been turning Tripp’s betrayal over in my mind again and again, remembering every detail he’d ever revealed. He rarely spoke about family, but when he did, he mentioned his sister carefully. There was love there, an attachment strong enough to exploit.
The idea formed itself clearly now. I’d find Tripp’s sister and make her fall for me.
I could be real fucking charming when I bothered to try.
She would become my emotional leverage, an insurance policy against Tripp’s revenge.
He wouldn’t dare betray me openly or hurt me further if it meant destroying his own sister.
He’d hesitate, second-guess, and ultimately back down, leaving the club safe.
Then when I was sure he was no longer a threat, I’d disappear and break her heart, leaving him to pick up the pieces.
I felt something uncomfortable twist inside me at the thought, but I pushed it away quickly. This wasn’t about morality or right and wrong. It was about justice. Revenge, pure and simple.
Tripp had brought this on himself by betraying the very loyalty I had extended him. Now he’d feel the same pain and sense of loss.
As I walked down the hallway, I silenced the voice inside me that warned how wrong this was, how it made me no better than Tripp himself. I couldn’t listen to that now.
This was strategic. Necessary. The only way to ensure that Tripp’s betrayal never touched my club again.
But deep down, beneath the cold logic and hardened resolve, I knew the truth. I was crossing a line that had always defined me—using someone innocent as collateral damage. But I was too full of hate and anger to pull back now.
After leaving Kane’s office, I sent Jax a quick text.
Me
Put together a full dossier on Tripp’s sister.
He replied right away.
Jax
Already on it.
Of course he was. Jax always handled the digital end quickly and efficiently.
I headed to my office, forcing myself to dive into club work, hoping it would help me regain control of my thoughts.
But as the hours passed and I tried to focus, the anger and frustration remained stubbornly present.
The harder I worked, the more clearly I realized I was barely holding on to my carefully constructed calm.
Eventually, the clubhouse came alive around me, the sounds of laughter and conversation drifting in from the lounge and the large yard behind it.
Though I wasn’t exactly in the mood for festivities, I knew better than to skip the party celebrating the first birthday of Travis, Edge and Callie’s son.
Family mattered more than anything, and the club was family.
Despite the tension and anger simmering beneath my skin, I joined them in the lounge, settling onto a couch with a glass of whiskey.
Given my injury, nobody expected me to do more than sit back and watch, which suited me just fine.
From this vantage point, I observed my brothers mingling with their old ladies and kids, and the family atmosphere soothed my restless anger enough for me to breathe easier.
That calm shattered when I saw Tripp step into the lounge.
My muscles tensed as I watched him carefully, feeling the betrayal all over again.
I forced myself not to react outwardly, unwilling to show my hand before I was ready.
Instead, I took a sip of whiskey, allowing my body language to remain casual despite how my chest tightened at the sight of him.
Tripp laughed and joked easily with a few brothers nearby, playing the perfect prospect. His cover remained intact for now.
The party eventually wound down, with guests and families dispersing slowly back to their homes. Jax was just about to leave with Lark, his old lady, but paused near the couch where I sat.
He leaned in slightly, his voice lowered. “Left what you asked for on your desk.”
I gave a brief nod, waiting until they walked away before slowly standing from the couch.
Curiosity and anticipation mingled in my gut as I moved down the quiet hallway toward my office, pushing open the heavy door and stepping inside.
The folder sat in the center of my desk, and I hesitated for a tense moment before sitting and flipping it open.
A photograph rested on top, immediately drawing my gaze. Petite, dark-haired, and undeniably beautiful, the woman in the image looked unaware that her picture was being taken. She had clear blue eyes and a genuine smile, the kind that made me pause, despite the anger fueling my intentions.
Desire surged hot and unexpected, tightening every muscle in my body with an intense awareness. I stared at her photo, surprised at the immediate physical reaction that slammed through me. I hadn’t reacted to anyone in a very long time, and never like this.
Even as I felt the powerful draw, something possessive stirred beneath the attraction. Which I’d never felt toward any woman before. I recognized it immediately as the same fierce, all-consuming drive I'd watched overtake my brothers one by one. The realization hit hard enough to leave me shaken.
Fuck no.
I fought it down immediately, anger and frustration flaring hotter.
This wasn’t the time for attraction. This wasn’t the fucking woman I should be feeling anything for.
It wasn’t the moment for whatever the fuck was flaring inside me.
This woman was collateral, nothing more than leverage against Tripp, a tool to use and discard.
I couldn’t afford to see her as anything else.
Yet each time I glanced at her picture, the possessiveness deepened, mingling with my anger until it felt almost unbearable. I sat there brooding, staring at the photograph as the minutes ticked away into hours, my mind at war with my conscience and my instincts.
Eventually, late into the night, I couldn't sit still any longer. I snatched up the folder, my grip tight enough to crease the edges as I stood and left the office, slamming the heavy door behind me.
My heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway as I moved, my pulse quickening from the turmoil of emotions still swirling through me.
Just as I entered the kitchen, I saw Rev and Delaney, the two of them wrapped around each other and whispering.
She glanced up, meeting my gaze. His attention snapped onto me immediately, clearly reading the tension in my face.
“You good, brother?” Rev asked, his voice edged with quiet seriousness.
He didn’t miss much, especially not when it involved one of his brothers.
I nodded, forcing my voice to sound casual. “Yeah, just dealing with some bullshit.”
As I shifted, something slipped from the folder.
The photograph fluttered loose and drifted gently onto the floor, landing directly at Delaney’s feet.
She bent and picked it up, her brows knitting slightly as she glanced briefly at the image.
Her eyes met mine again, gentle curiosity in her gaze, as she carefully handed the photo back.
“Who’s she?” Delaney asked softly, unaware of the tension tightening in my gut.
Something cold and quietly furious moved beneath my ribs as I quickly reclaimed the photograph from her fingers. For a tense, charged moment, I didn’t answer, my jaw tightening as I forced myself to remain calm.
“No one,” I finally answered. “Just somebody I need to deal with.”
Without another word, I turned away and headed toward the back exit to a small parking lot where my motorcycle was parked. Once outside, I moved quickly toward my bike, determined to leave the clubhouse behind and clear my head.
As I pulled away from the compound, headed for my house just outside of Crossbend’s downtown, I knew one thing clearly: there was no going back from what I’d decided. My plan would begin tomorrow, and nothing—not even my own conflicted conscience—would stop me.