Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
NIGHTMARE
A week passes. Streets are quiet, too quiet. Cartel’s lying low, but I know better than to think they’re gone. Quiet just means they’re planning.
Londyn’s been settling in at the clubhouse.
She tries, but I can see the restlessness in her eyes.
She’s not built to sit still, not built to hide.
Every night we lose ourselves in each other, and it takes some of the edge off…
for both of us. But when morning comes, the fire’s still there. She wants blood. She wants justice.
We’re in church when Maverick lays it out. “Word on the street is the Syndicate’s been sniffing around. They’re looking for her. That’s leverage. We use Londyn as bait, draw them out, and cut the head off the snake.”
The words hit like a hammer. I slam my fist against the table. “Hell no. She’s not bait. She’s not a damn pawn in this game.”
Mav’s eyes narrow. “You think I don’t know the risk? You think I’d throw her to the wolves without a plan?”
I lean forward, voice low, and dangerous. “She’s been through enough. You want to flush the cartel out, find another way.”
Steel speaks up, calm but firm. “Brother, listen. It’s the only way. They’re hunting her. That’s the one thing we can use. We control the setup, we control the field. We put eyes everywhere, guns everywhere. She’s not alone. She’s the key to pulling them out of the shadows.”
I grit my teeth, every muscle tight. The thought of her out there, exposed, makes my blood boil. But Steel’s right. The cartel won’t move unless they think they’ve got her.
I look at Lolo, expecting fear, hesitation. Instead, she meets my eyes steady, and unflinching. “I’ll do it,” she says. “If it gets us closer to taking them down, I’ll put myself on the line.”
My chest twists. She’s willing to bleed for this, willing to face the same people who destroyed her family.
I shake my head, muttering, “You don’t know what you’re agreeing to, Lolo.”
She reaches across the table, her hand brushing mine. “I do. And I’m not afraid. Not anymore.”
The room settles down. Mav leans back, satisfied. Steel nods. Turbo’s already pulling up maps, routes, logistics.
Me? I sit there, torn between rage and respect. She’s braver than most men I’ve ridden with. But what if this goes wrong? I’ll never forgive myself if Lolo ends up dead.
The idea makes sense, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. My gut twists at the thought of Londyn out there, thrown to the wolves as bait. I’ve lost brothers to setups like this. I’ve seen things go bad, seen bodies left behind because someone thought they could control the field.
And Lolo? She’s not just another piece on the board. She’s the one thing that’s pulled me out of the dark. The one thing in my life that makes sense. I’m not ready to lose that… lose her.
Now they want to dangle her in front of the cartel like meat.
I clench my fists, jaw tight. “If this goes sideways, it’s on us. Not her.”
Steel meets my stare. “That’s why we plan it tight. Eyes everywhere. Guns everywhere. She won’t be alone for a second.”
Mav cuts in, voice sharp. “We need a hook. Something that makes Tony bite. He’s been laying low, but word is he’s been asking around. He wants Londyn. That’s our way in.”
Turbo lays it out. “She calls him. Pretends she’s scared, lost. Says she needs to see him, tell him what’s going on. He’ll come running. We track the call, set the meet, and box him in.”
I shake my head, muttering, “Sounds too simple.”
Lolo’s voice cuts through. If it flushes them out, I’ll make the call. I’ll play scared. I’ll give them what they want.”
I look at her, torn in half. Part of me wants to lock her in a room and keep her safe. The other part knows she’s right… this is the only way to drag the Syndicate into the open.
Mav leans forward, eyes hard. “We set the meet. We control the ground. Tony shows, we take him. He leads us back to Herrera, and from there, the whole damn Syndicate.”
Steel nods. “It’s the only shot we’ve got.”
I exhale, the weight pressing down. “Fine. But if they touch her, if this goes wrong, I’m done.”
Londyn
Night hits hard at the clubhouse. The kind of heavy that sinks into your soul. The meeting’s over, the plan is set, but Malcolm’s been quiet since. Too quiet. A storm bottled up behind his eyes.
Back in his room, the door barely shuts before he turns on me.
“You shouldn’t’ve agreed to that,” he growls, pacing like he’s two seconds from punching through the wall. Shirtless, kutte tossed somewhere, muscles twitching with every angry breath. “You don’t… fuck, Lolo, you don’t just volunteer to be bait. You don’t get to do that.”
His voice cracks around the edges, low, and feral.
This isn’t club anger.
This is fear of the unknown.
I cross my arms, trying to be the calm to his storm. “There’s already a target on my back. They’re coming whether I make that call or not. At least this way, I get a say in how it ends.”
He stops dead, staring at me like I’ve slapped him.
“So you think that means you just walk into the fire?” His jaw flexes, hands shaking. “We just… Lolo, we just found each other. You think I’m ready to watch you walk into the lion’s den? You think I can stand back and let you risk your life like it’s nothing?”
My throat burns. Tears blur everything before I can blink them back. “It’s not nothing,” I mumble. “My parents… they died for this. Ty died for this. I can’t let it be for nothing. I can’t just hide in here while the people who took them from me keep breathing.”
His face breaks at the mention of Ty, just a flicker, but it guts him.
I take a step toward him. “They murdered my parents. And Ty…” My voice cracks. “Ty’s dead because he tried to help stop them. He trusted people he shouldn’t have. People I trusted. If I don’t do this… if I don’t help take them down… then he died in vain. They all did.”
He flinches like I hit the one place he’s soft.
I keep going. “And you loved Ty. Don’t deny it. He was your best friend at one time.”
Malcolm looks away, jaw locking hard. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, he was my brother.”
His eyes shine with something he’d never admit to. “I wish… I wish I’d had another shot. To talk to him. Help get him clean. Pull him outta that hole before it swallowed him.”
He scrubs a hand over his face. “Losing him still eats at me.”
For a second, we’re both standing in the wreckage of our ghosts.
“You’re right,” he says quietly, stepping closer. “We owe it to him to finish this.”
My breath shudders out in relief.
“Come on,” he murmurs. “You need to rest. Tomorrow… you’re calling Tony, and you gotta be sharp.”
“Yeah. Okay,” I say, exhaustion hitting all at once.