Chapter Five
Kane
The first time the SUV rolled across the security footage, every instinct I had snapped tight.
Tinker scrubbed the timeline back and hit play again.
Grainy black-and-white washed over the small monitor, the camera fixed on the narrow stretch of road that ran past the compound.
Trees crowded the edge of the ditch. Chain-link fencing cut a hard line across the frame.
Then the vehicle slid into view, dark and deliberate.
Tinted windows. No front plate. The rear tag wore a thick smear of mud, sloppy enough to hide details but not careful enough to erase them completely.
“Slow it.”
Tinker’s fingers danced over the keyboard. The SUV crawled now, frame by frame, floating through the shot instead of driving. It hesitated at the break in the trees -- the same gap Jade had pointed at earlier -- long enough for whoever sat behind the glass to count cameras and angles.
Not long enough to fire from the road and disappear clean. That mattered.
Mikey leaned in over my shoulder, stale coffee clinging to his breath. His lip curled as he watched the pass play again. “Creepy bastard.”
“Zoom.”
Tinker kept his eyes glued to the screen.
He tapped another key and cursed under his breath.
The image froze, pixels breaking apart when the system strained beyond capacity.
Mud covered the plate in uneven streaks, smeared thicker toward the right side.
I made out a curved shape -- possibly a three or an eight -- with several letters half-buried beneath the grime.
Spade would find enough to start pulling threads.
My vision blurred from staring at the screen, yet I refused to look away. “Does Atilla know?”
“He’s in the office with Spade. General too.” Tinker finally glanced over. “Want me to --”
“No.” I rolled my shoulders, trying to shake the crawl under my skin. “I’ve got it.”
Mikey stepped aside to let me through. “She okay?”
“Scared,” I answered, already moving. “Breathing, though. Women have her.”
A nod. Respect in his eyes. “Tougher than she looks.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “She is.”
The hall outside the gatehouse felt colder than it had an hour earlier. Or maybe the chill lived inside me now, sharpened by the knowledge Roth -- or someone close enough to share his stink -- had cruised past our fence and taken a good, long look.
We’d expected attention. Didn’t mean I welcomed it.
Spade’s office sat near the back of the main building, tucked between the shop and the admin rooms. I knocked once and pushed inside at Atilla’s grunt.
Screens covered every wall of the cramped office.
The center monitor replayed the footage I’d watched moments ago, paused on the black SUV with its mud-smeared plates.
To my left, numbers and graphs scrolled across another display -- financial trails or surveillance data; I couldn’t tell and didn’t care.
The third screen showed our town, red dots pulsing at intersections where cameras caught movement.
Spade glanced up from his keyboard, glasses low on his nose. “You see our visitor?”
“Yeah.” I crossed my arms. “Jade saw it too.”
Atilla’s posture stiffened. His eyes cut to mine. “How’d she handle it?”
“She froze for a second. I pulled her back from the window and talked her through it.”
General shifted in the armchair near the wall, coffee steaming in his hand. “Recognize the vehicle?”
I shook my head. “Too far. Too fast.”
Spade spun one of the monitors toward me, finger tapping the plate. “Mud job’s sloppy. I’ll run what I can pull.”
“He did us one favor,” Atilla said. “Drove right through our sightlines instead of sending someone sneaking on foot.”
General snorted. “Overconfidence.”
“They aren’t untouchable,” I said.
Atilla held my gaze for a long beat. “No. They aren’t.”
Spade leaned back, chair creaking. “Roth either wants his asset back or wants to show his boss he’s got control. News travels fast.”
“At least he hasn’t tested the gate,” I said.
A humorless sound left Atilla. “If he had, we’d be cleaning blood off the drive instead of watching footage.”
The image rose unbidden -- brothers lining up, one bad move turning into a body count. A part of me wanted that release. Another part knew it would spiral fast.
“What do you need from me?”
Atilla didn’t hesitate. “You stay glued to Jade. No window-watching. No isolation. Make sure she eats and sleeps. And you don’t go hunting Roth alone.”
I clenched my jaw. “I don’t go hunting Roth without backup.”
A faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Good.”
General drained his mug. “Sooner or later, he’ll overstep. Until then, we need the flash drive and a clearer picture of who’s above him.”
“Teach her the compound. Teach her rules. When she’s ready, teach her to shoot.” Atilla studied me again. “You sure about this chaos you stepped into?”
“I’m sure.”
Silence stretched.
“Well, if he’s patching in, shouldn’t we tell him his new name?” Truth teased. “I picked it.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Falcon.”
“I probably should have asked when we voted on it, but why Falcon?” Ace questioned. “Not that I’m saying it’s a bad name. Just wondering why you picked it.”
“Because he’s strong, a good hunter, and has the courage of ten men.” Truth leaned back in his seat. “No one seemed to have a better idea.”
Atilla stood. “Get some rest. Tomorrow starts early.”
My mind had pictured beers raised high, brothers slapping my back, maybe even a wild night, when I finally patched in.
Reality handed me cartel shadows instead, plus a woman who flinched at sudden movements while relearning how to fill her lungs with air.
And I wouldn’t trade either.
The weight of the patch rode heavier on my shoulders the farther I got from Spade’s office.
Leather pressed between my shoulder blades like a reminder carved into skin instead of stitched on cloth.
Full member. No more Prospect rocker. No more waiting to see if I’d earn my place or get bounced out for a bad call.
The clubhouse hummed when I stepped inside. Low voices. The scrape of chairs. The soft thud of boots crossing old wood. Normal sounds, but my attention locked on the common room.
I spotted Jade curled into the corner of the couch, knees tucked up against her chest, hoodie zipped all the way to her chin.
One of Casey’s kids slept at her feet amid a fortress of stuffed animals, one small arm draped over a lopsided teddy bear with missing eyes.
Across the room, Marci and Solena sat hunched at the table, competing to see who could tear more receipts into strips and land them in the plastic bin between them.
Solena flicked a paper scrap, missing by inches, while Marci smirked and mouthed what looked suspiciously close to trash talk.
Jade’s gaze drifted to the window, paused, then snapped back to the room. Over and over. Like she kept checking the edge of the world and reminding herself she wasn’t standing out there alone anymore.
She noticed me and straightened a fraction. Shoulders dropped an inch. Tension didn’t vanish, but it loosened.
That mattered more than she probably realized.
Marci crumpled another receipt and flicked it into the bin. “You look like you want to punch something.”
“Spade’s running the plate,” I said, stopping near the couch. “SUV matches Roth’s style. Could be him or someone close. Gate’s on high alert.”
Solena’s mouth curved. “Is there ever a time when you idiots aren’t on high alert?”
“Only when we’re drunk.”
Jade’s voice slid in soft and dry. “That’s comforting.”
I stepped closer, careful not to wake the kid. “How you holding up?”
Her fingers curled into the sleeves of the hoodie. “Tired. Brain feels like it’s carrying too much.”
A glance at the clock told me the day had run longer than expected. “You want to head back to the house?”
Relief crossed her face before she masked it. “If I stay here much longer, I might drool on their kid.”
Casey stretched and waved us off. “We’ve got her. Go before she wakes up and demands snacks.”
Jade stood slow, stepping around the pile of stuffed animals. She wobbled when she straightened. My hand found the small of her back without thinking. Warmth settled under my palm. Muscles eased.
Marci tipped her chin toward the door. “Sleep. Tomorrow we drag you into more chaos.”
“Can’t wait,” Jade muttered.
Cold bit when we crossed the yard. Stars scattered sharp and bright overhead. Frost clung to the grass, crunching under our boots. Jade stayed close to my side, not touching, but close enough our steps synced.
The house door shut behind us with a solid thud. I locked up, checked the window, then turned around.
She stood in the middle of the room, hands tucked into her hoodie pockets, eyes meeting mine as though waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For today.” Her gaze flicked to the floor, then back up. “For not ditching me once you got patched in.”
I let out a rough huff. “You seriously thought I’d bail?”
“I’ve watched men change after promotions,” she said. “Priorities shift. Your patch came through. You could’ve decided I brought too much trouble.”
I moved closer. “Patch or no patch, I chose you. The leather on my back won’t change my mind.”
Her attention drifted to my cut. Her fingers rose, brushed the name plate stitched over my chest. My pulse kicked hard.
“You look good in it.” Color crept into her cheeks. She didn’t pull away. Palm stayed flat against my chest, feeling the rise and fall. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“With what?”
I watched her hand wave between us, a small motion carrying the weight of worlds. “With everything. You. Your club. With some armed asshole deciding I belong on my back or in a body bag because of problems my brother created.”
My hand covered hers. “You don’t have to know everything. Take the next step. We handle the rest.”
“We,” she repeated.
“Yeah.”