Maeve
The steel door opened again, and she looked up. It wasn’t Peak. It was Warden. The giant Enforcer ducked through the doorway carrying two paper cups and a brown paper sack. He set one cup on the table in front of her.
"Coffee,” he grumbled.
"No." He uncuffed one wrist before attaching the chain to a steel ring bolted into the floor. "Only the annoying ones."
She rubbed circulation back into her fingers. "I've been upgraded from sweetheart to annoying."
"Congratulations,” he breathed as he pushed the paper bag toward her. “It’s a burger." Her stomach growled loud enough that Warden smirked. "I'll take that as a thank you."
She hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, and the smell alone made her dizzy. "You expect me to choke on it?"
"If I wanted you dead, we'd be having a different conversation,” he said.
That was a fair point. Maeve unwrapped the burger.
The first bite nearly made her eyes water.
It had been days since she had real, hot food.
She hadn't realized how hungry she'd been.
Warden pretended not to notice. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching her.
"You don't look like an enforcer." She swallowed another bite.
"What exactly does an enforcer look like?" he asked.
"I don't know." She shrugged. "More—” She motioned vaguely toward him. "Stabby."
He barked out his laugh. "I can be stabby."
"I imagine you can." Silence settled between them.
Finally, Warden spoke. "You really got a sister?"
Maeve stopped chewing, and every muscle in her body tightened. "Yes."
"How old is she?" he asked.
"Twenty-five."
He nodded slowly. "When'd she disappear?"
"A year and a half ago,” she said.
"What happened?" Maeve stared at the burger. The appetite she'd had seconds ago vanished.
"We argued." Warden said nothing, and she appreciated that.
Most people rushed to fill the silence, but he didn't. "We argued," she repeated.
"She wanted to go to a concert in Baltimore, and I told her no.
She went anyway." Her fingers tightened around the wrapper.
"She never came home afterward." Her voice cracked.
"But I found her abandoned car at the venue. "
The memory slammed into her like a freight train—the pouring rain and sirens as police lights reflected off wet pavement.
Wren's little silver Honda sat abandoned behind the arena with the driver's door open. Wren’s phone and backpack were lying in a puddle, but there was no sign of her sister.
Unfortunately, there were no witnesses either.
She was just gone, like she'd never existed.
"They found the car?" Warden asked quietly.
Maeve nodded. "The police called it a probable abduction."
"What happened next?” Warden asked.
"They worked the case for about three weeks." She laughed bitterly. "When nothing turned up, they moved on."
"But you didn't give up,” he said.
"No." She looked at him. "I quit my job, sold my house, and burned through my savings looking for her. I've been looking ever since."
Warden scratched at his beard. "What'd you do before?"
"I worked in cybercrimes."
His eyebrows rose. "Law enforcement?"
She smiled faintly. "Contractor." That wasn't entirely a lie.
She'd contracted with more than one federal agency over the years.
Never as an employee, always as the woman nobody officially admitted existed.
She was the one they called when someone had buried themselves too deep online.
Peak would figure that out eventually, because she could tell that he was too smart not to.
The door opened again, and Captain stepped inside with Peak. Maeve looked up. Peak wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the coffee, burger, and Warden. "You fed her?"
Warden shrugged. "She looked hungry." Peak almost smiled. Captain pulled out the empty chair across from her and sat. His weathered face gave away nothing.
"We've got questions,” Captain said.
Maeve nodded. "I figured that you would."
Peak remained standing beside Captain with a laptop tucked beneath one arm. His eyes never left her. "We found your shipping company."
Her heartbeat sped up. "You found Eastern Atlantic Freight."
Peak’s mouth dropped open. "You know the name of the company?"
"I've known it for months,” she said.
Captain slapped the palms of his hands on the metal table, causing her to jump. "You could've led with that."
"You would've assumed I made it up,” she said. She knew that she wasn't wrong. Captain didn't deny it either.
Peak finally spoke. "We also found a federal investigation tied to the company."
Maeve closed her eyes. "So they didn't bury all of it."
Captain leaned forward. "Who are they?"
She opened her eyes. "The Iron Serpents." The room fell silent.
Peak watched her carefully. "You know them personally?"
"I know enough about them,” she said.
"How about you explain to us what you know about them?" Captain said. Maeve looked between the three men. This was the moment she’d been dreading, because once she told them everything, there was no going back.
"They're not just moving women,” she said, “they're selling them." Nobody spoke. "My sister wasn't a random abduction."
Captain frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Wren hacked into one of their financial accounts."
Peak looked at her. "What?"
Maeve met his gaze. "My sister was a programmer, and so am I."
The realization hit Peak instantly. "You were hunting them online."
"Yes,” she said.
"You found something,” he said, not really asking her a question. "And they found you."
She nodded. "They couldn't catch me." Her voice became almost a whisper.
"So they took Wren instead." The words settled over the room like a funeral shroud.
She felt something twist in her chest. She wasn't chasing strangers because she wanted revenge.
She was chasing them because her little sister had paid the price for something Maeve had started.
Peak slowly lowered himself into the empty chair beside Captain, and for the first time since meeting her, he stopped looking at her like a suspect. Instead, he looked at her like someone who had been fighting a war completely alone.
Captain finally broke the silence. "If everything you've told us is true—”
Maeve looked him squarely in the eye. "It is."
Captain nodded. “Then the Grave Prowlers have a problem."
Maeve shook her head. "No."
Captain frowned. "Why don’t you think so?"
Her voice was steady. "You don’t have a problem. You have a choice."
"What’s the choice?" Captain asked.
"You can turn me over to the Iron Serpents, or you can help me burn their empire to the ground."
Maeve wasn’t sure if Peak believed her until he said, "They took the wrong sister.
" Every eye in the room turned toward him, and Peak's jaw tightened.
"They just made this club an enemy." And for the first time in eighteen long months, Maeve allowed herself to believe she might not have to fight alone anymore.
The room emptied slowly. Captain was the first to leave, barking orders before the door had fully opened. "Nobody breathes a word of this outside this room."
"Lock the gates,” he told Warden. “And double the dock patrol. Get every prospect on the road." The clubhouse exploded into controlled chaos beyond the hallway. Boots pounded across worn wooden floors, and engines roared to life outside.
For the first time since she'd been dragged into the Grave Prowlers clubhouse, Maeve felt guilty.
She hadn't wanted this. She'd wanted someone to listen; instead, she'd handed an entire motorcycle club a reason for going to war.
The only people who benefited from wars were the ones selling weapons—or women.
The room grew quiet again, and only Peak remained. He stood near the doorway, laptop tucked beneath one arm, watching her with those impossible gray-blue eyes. He wasn’t suspicious of her motives anymore. He just seemed more curious.
"So—” Maeve broke the silence. "Am I still your prisoner?"
Peak leaned one shoulder against the doorframe. "I haven't decided yet."
She smiled. "I thought Captain already had."
"He did,” Peak said.
"Well, if he doesn’t think I’m a threat, why haven’t you made up your mind about me?” she asked.
He shrugged. "I don't always agree with Captain."
That surprised her. "I thought motorcycle clubs ran on orders."
"They do,” he said.
"Then why are you going up against your leader?” she asked.
"Captain is my Prez, but he also expects us to think for ourselves." He pushed away from the wall and crossed the room. When he stopped in front of her, he crouched until they were eye level. "You lied to me."
She didn't bother denying it. "I omitted things."
"You told me you weren't law enforcement."
"I'm not,” she insisted, because that was basically the truth.
"You neglected to mention you're a hacker."
"I was waiting for you to figure it out,” she said.
"I figured it out,” he breathed.
"I know."
The corner of his mouth twitched. It was almost a smile. "You baited me."
"I needed your attention,” she insisted.
"You had it."
"No." She shook her head. "I had your curiosity, and those aren't the same things.
" Peak considered that for a moment. She wasn't wrong.
He'd walked into the interrogation room expecting to poke holes in her story.
Instead, she'd spent twenty minutes quietly dismantling every assumption he'd made about her.
It was annoying, and strangely impressive.
"You really worked cybercrime?" She nodded. "For who?"
"I signed enough NDAs that I'd rather not test them,” she mumbled.
Peak chuckled. "So government."
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to." He stood and began pacing slowly around the room. Maeve watched him. Unlike most people, Peak thought while he moved. Every turn, every pause, every glance toward the ceiling. His brain never stopped working. She recognized it because hers worked the same way.
"You know—” Peak said finally. "There aren't many people who would've caught what you caught."
"Do you mean about the shipping company?" she asked.
He nodded. "Most investigators would've stopped there."
"But I didn't,” she whispered.
"No, you kept following the money,” he said, sounding oddly proud of her.
"I always follow the money."
Peak stopped pacing. "Me too." Their eyes met, and for a strange moment, it didn't feel like two strangers talking. It felt like two programmers comparing notes. "You reverse-engineered their shell corporations."
She smiled despite herself. "You checked that?"
"I checked everything,” he boasted.
"And what did you think?” she asked.
"You did good work." The compliment hit harder than she expected. No one had complimented her work since before Wren disappeared. Back when she'd had a life, a career, and friends, she'd forgotten what it felt like.
"What happened to your bike?" Peak asked suddenly.
Maeve blinked up at him. "What?"
"The one you rode here,” he said.
"It broke down."
He frowned. "Where?"
"Three miles south of here. There was something wrong with the fuel pump."
Peak folded his arms over his chest. "You're lying."
She sighed. "How did you know?"
"Fuel pumps don't fail the way you described."
She laughed. "I wanted to see if you'd catch it."
He stared. "You test everyone the way that you’re testing me?"
"No, just people smarter than me,” she said.
Peak snorted. "Good luck finding one." For the first time all day, they both smiled.
The smile vanished the instant Peak's phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen, and his expression changed immediately. "What is it?" Maeve asked.
He didn't answer her. Instead, he hit the speaker. "Warden."
The Enforcer's voice exploded through the phone. "Get your ass outside."
Peak was already moving. "What happened?"
"We got company."
Every muscle in Maeve's body tightened. "Who?"
Warden answered him quickly. "Three SUVs with no plates just rolled up to the front gate."
Maeve was on her feet before she realized she'd moved. "No." Peak looked at her. "They found me." The words came out barely above a whisper.
"They couldn't have,” Peak insisted.
"They did." Her breathing quickened. "I shouldn't have come here."
Peak grabbed her shoulders. "Look at me."
She did. "How many men do you think they sent?"
"I don't know."
"Maeve.” His voice was calm, steady, and even grounding. "Think." She squeezed her eyes shut, and her stomach dropped.
"Oh, God."
Peak's grip tightened just enough to keep her focused. "What?"
"They're not here to negotiate." Outside, a horn blared, then another.
The unmistakable sound of tires crunching across gravel echoed through the clubhouse.
Motorcycles fired to life, and someone hit the emergency alarm mounted near the front entrance.
Its shrill tone echoed through every room.
Peak looked toward the hallway and then back at Maeve.
"You stay here,” he ordered.
She laughed once—a hollow, hopeless sound. "They aren't after your clubhouse."
She looked him straight in the eye. "They're after me.
" A deafening explosion shook the front of the building.
Dust rained from the ceiling, glass shattered somewhere down the hall, the lights flickered and then went out, allowing darkness to swallow the room.
And from somewhere outside came the unmistakable sound of automatic gunfire.