Chapter 12
TWELVE
NIGHTMARE
I’m sitting in the dark, inside Londyn’s house, waiting. Turbo hacked her hospital records for me, and she’s being discharged today. He’s good at shit like that.
I wanted to see her at the hospital, but there were cops everywhere. Uniforms posted at every door, every hallway. No way I could get close without drawing heat. So I stayed away.
Now I’m waiting here, in her space. The room’s too damn quiet except for the TV droning low…
news anchors circling the same details like vultures on a carcass.
Ty. Their parents. The massacre at the house.
Every channel replaying the footage: body bags, cruisers, flashing blue and yellow crime tape cutting across the yard.
I wasn’t inside, but I saw enough from the street… the coroner making notes as bodies were loaded, people crying, and her… Londyn… in the back of an ambulance, paramedics crowding around her. That image wedges itself behind my ribs like a bullet that won’t come out.
My body’s still running on leftover adrenaline. Leg bouncing. Shoulders tight. Hands locked together. Every time I blink, the scene hits again, and the weight of knowing her whole world just got blown apart.
Her living room smells like vanilla, clean, warm, and the second it hits me, something in my chest stutters. Then it pisses me off because I don’t know what the hell to do with that. I don’t know what she’ll want from me when she walks through that door.
Do I stand?
Do I say something?
Do I put a hand on her shoulder?
Am I supposed to hug her?
Feels wrong to want to, after everything that went down. Feels worse not knowing if she even wants me here.
So I sit here and wait. Pulse still jacked, jaw locked tight, trying to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to face her when she walks through that door.
How do I comfort her when it should’ve been me?
I was ready to kill one of my best friends, proving my loyalty to the Royal Bastards.
Now Turbo’s tearing through every damn database, searching for clues about who took out Ty and his parents.
Execution style… that’s what the news keeps saying.
A professional hit. The only question left is why.
The sound of a car pulling up gets my attention so I make my way to the door. I stop short of opening it when I hear voices on the porch. Londyn’s and someone else’s… a man.
Moving closer to the window, I keep myself tucked into the shadows.
His voice is low, but I can hear what he’s saying. “You left the TV on?”
Londyn answers. “Yeah. I always leave it on. Makes it look like someone’s home.” She sounds exhausted.
The man pauses, then asks, “You want me to stay tonight?”
There’s a silence, long enough that I hold my breath.
Finally she says, “No. I’m tired. I just want a hot shower and my bed.”
Her voice cracks a little on, bed.
Stepping closer, he leans in, and kisses her.
There’s a fire in my chest. Anger. Jealousy. I can’t tell which, but my fists clench so hard my knuckles pop.
He’s touching her like he belongs here. Like he’s the one who gets to comfort her.
Ty’s gone. Her parents are gone. And now this motherfucker thinks he can swoop in, and play protector.
Gritting my teeth, I force myself not to move, not to storm out there and knock this asshole out. Not yet.
But watching him kiss her twists something hard and ugly inside me. He steps back, tells her he’ll call tomorrow to check in, and that a couple of officers will stay posted outside until the FBI takes her into protective custody.
Protective custody? What the fuck?
The front door opens. Keys hit the side table, and her bag drops to the floor.
Then her voice cuts through the quiet. “You can come out now. He’s gone.”
“How did you know I was here?” I ask, stepping from the shadows.
She doesn’t flinch, her eyes locking on mine. “I saw a black Harley parked between two cars down the street. I remembered it from the night I met you at your house.”
I glance away, jaw tight. She’s sharper than I gave her credit for.
She nods toward the TV, still glowing in the corner. “And I never leave that thing on. Not once. So I knew someone was inside.”
I shift my weight, uneasy. “You’re good.”
Her face is pale, and tired, but there’s a slight coldness in her voice. “Or you’re not as good as you think you are.”
That makes me laugh a little and eases some of the tension.
I don’t know what to say, not with everything that’s happened, not with that kiss still burning in my head.
The silence stretches until I can’t hold it anymore. “Who is he to you?”
Her eyes don’t waver. “Tony’s my partner.” She pauses, then adds, “Partner with benefits.”
The words hit harder than I expect. My jaw tightens, but I force myself to swallow it down.
I shift gears, voice low. “I had nothing to do with Ty’s murder. Or your parents’.”
She studies me for a long beat, then nods. “I know.”
That catches me off guard. “You do?”
“Yeah.” She exhales, shoulders sagging. “The FBI and DEA came to see me in the hospital. They told me Ty was working with them, to bring down the Mendaro Syndicate. He couldn’t tell me because apparently, it would’ve botched months of undercover work.
They said the cartel killed my family,” she says quietly.
She sounds hollow, like she’s just parroting what they fed her.
I stare at her, the weight of her words sinking in. But what she says next, stuns me.
“And they think there’s a leak in my precinct. Someone in my own department is either working with or associated with the cartel and I need to find out who.”
Her words hit nerves she doesn’t even know she’s touching. Yeah, there are dirty cops… hell, some take our money. But you don’t betray the ones who go to war with you. That line? You cross it, and there’s no coming back
I watch her, trying to decode the cold edge in her eyes. She’s not just grieving… she’s already hunting.
“I told Tony I’d go into protective custody for a while. That’s what they wanted, but I’m not doing that. I’m going to look into my family’s murder myself.”
Her eyes lock on mine as she continues. “Malcolm, I need your help. I need someone connected to that world to find the leak in my precinct. Someone who knows how to move in it.”
She’s asking me to help her dig into her own precinct, to chase down whoever sold out Ty and her parents. I want to say yes. Hell, part of me already has. But the club isn’t just me. Taking this to Mav means putting it in his hands, letting him decide if we move or if we stay out of it.
Either choice could blow everything up.
He doesn’t play with cops. And he sure as hell doesn’t play with cartels. Bringing this to him could spark something none of us walk away from. It could pull the whole chapter into a fire we can’t put out.
But Ty was family. His parents were family. They didn’t deserve what happened to them. And it doesn’t matter how long it’s been, Ty was a brother to me, same as any man with a patch.
“Lolo, you know I’ll help you. But I gotta take this to my Prez first. Nothing moves without him knowing.”
“What do you think he’ll say?” she asks softly.
“Honestly? I don’t know. But he’s killed people for less.”
I’ve seen Mav drop men without blinking, but she doesn’t need that detail.
She just nods.
“I need a shower,” she says after a beat. “But I want you to stay. We’re not done talking.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She turns toward the hallway, but something in me won’t let her leave without asking.
“Hey, Lolo.” She stops, but doesn’t turn around. “How can you trust me? After everything. After I was ordered to kill Ty.”
Her voice carries back to me, unwavering. “Because you didn’t. You warned me instead. You gave me time to try and get him out. That told me everything I needed to know.”
“You think that makes me trustworthy?” I ask.
“I think it makes you loyal,” she says. “And I could see it in your face… you weren’t lying to me. That’s how I know.”
She disappears down the hall, leaving me standing alone in her living room, the echo of her trust wrapping tight around my ribs.
And I’m left wondering, how the fuck am I supposed to honor her faith in me without tearing apart every rule Mav ever laid down?