Chapter 6
CLUTCH - UNITY
We roll back in through locked gates and too many eyes on the road. My tired body is instantly on alert, something is wrong.
Two prospects are at the entrance instead of one, both armed. Both tense. No one is joking or messing around... The way they are positioned, it’s like the entire club is on high alert.
The compound is too quiet. No music bleeding from the clubhouse, no girls perched on bikes or tailgates waiting for attention. No engines idling. No laughter.
Just men standing still and that's worse than chaos.
Angel is outside when we dismount. Ledger follows beside him, with Cypher near the steps to the front door.
Razor is pacing like a dog that hasn't decided whether it wants to bite or bark and Four's bike isn't in its spot.
Fuck.
My chest tightens.
"What happened?" I ask, already knowing I'm not going to like the answer.
Angel doesn't ease into it. "Task force picked up Four."
The words hit, but they don't land. "For what?"
"Anonymous tip," Cypher answers. "Something to do with cartel cash movement."
That's impossible.
Roman doesn't move a dollar without Angel knowing. He doesn't freelance. He doesn't skim and he most definitely doesn't fuck around with the cartel.
"And?" I push.
Because this isn't enough to bench a Vice President.
Angel's jaw flexes. "They're saying he's been meeting with an informant. Sleeping with her. Feeding information to move product."
Silence spreads across the yard like spilled oil.
Razor lets out a harsh breath. "Disgusting."
My head snaps toward him. Because, Four is a lot of things. He can be unforgiving, territorial, violent when needed, and absolutely brutal when crossed. But disloyal?
Never.
And Razor talking about loyalty to a woman? That's fucking rich.
"Where is he?" I ask, ignoring Razor.
"County," Angel says. "No bail pending federal review."
Federal… fuck. This is big.
"Dani?" I ask.
"She is barely holding it together." Ledger answers.
Dani must be devastated, but she knows him. She has to believe it isn't true. Four would rather lose a hand than betray her.
"What about Cal?" I ask.
Angel's gaze hardens. "His ex filed for emergency custody this morning. Temporary full-time until review."
Caleb Velez is eight.
Eight.
Four brings him around on weekends sometimes. The kid likes sitting on the edge of Torch's workbench, swinging his legs and asking a thousand questions while pretending he understands engines.
Now he's with his mother, who is probably already filling his head with poison. Because someone fed law enforcement a lie.
"Who pushed it?" I ask.
Cypher shakes his head. "I can't trace it yet. Whoever did this… it’s advanced."
So someone planned it, planted evidence.
Razor folds his arms across his chest. "Somebody talked."
Angel's head turns slowly toward him.
"Careful." He growls.
"I'm not accusing anyone of shit," Razor says. But his tone says he is. "I'm saying this doesn't come out of nowhere."
He's loud, amped up. He looks like a man on the edge.
But of what?
"She's gone," Razor adds suddenly. "Mara just fucking disappeared."
The words crack across the yard.
"What?" I gasp.
"I went to bed, and she was there," he says. "I woke up, she wasn't. All her shit is still in the room."
Something twists in my gut, you don’t just disappear from this place.
"You didn't hear anything?" I ask, and then the last time I saw Mara flashes through my mind. "Did anything happen before you went to bed?"
His head snaps toward me. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just asking." I shrug, but something isn’t adding up and I am too fucking tired.
Angel steps forward before Razor can escalate, eyes on me. "We're handling it."
Translation: Drop it.
I scan the lot, seeing both her car and bike are still here.
Which means she didn't plan it... or she had help.
The compound feels like it's holding its breath.
"We do not fracture," Angel says, voice steady but tight. "That's what they want."
Unity fixes this; it always has.
Because a fracture gets you killed. I learned that young.
Upstairs, the hallway feels wrong. No doors are cracked open, there's no music or laughter.
Just boots pacing somewhere distant and the low murmur of tense voices.
I push open our door and find Bex is sitting on the bed like she's been waiting for impact. Her body jerks when the door opens, and her hand shoots out, reaching under her pillow.
I clock it immediately.
Metal.
She's reaching for a gun.
The one I bought her.
The one she said she hated.
The one she swore she never wanted to use.
What is going on… Why does she feel like she needs that in our room?
Before I can ask, someone slams into the wall outside, forcing another flinch from my wife, and shouts down the hall.
"CHURCH IN FIVE!"
She yanks her hand back and stands fast, relief flashing across her face when she sees it's me.
Real relief.
Then tension replaces it. "Four," she says.
"I know." I let out on a heavy breath.
"They won't let Dani see him." Her voice is sad, full of pain for her friend.
"I know." I repeat.
Her fingers flex at her sides like she doesn't know what to do with her hands.
"They told her he was sleeping with someone… an informant or something. She has been a mess ever since."
My jaw tightens. "It's bullshit."
Her eyes search mine, a blue so bright they can come across as warm, but right now they are cool and so is her voice when she asks, "Is it?"
There's something loaded in that question.
"Yes," I say without hesitation. "Roman doesn't cheat. Not on Dani."
She exhales like she didn't realize she was holding her breath. Like using Four's name grounds her in a world she can actually understand.
Then she starts pacing, and I really take her in.
Bare feet on the rough floor, worn jeans hugging her hips, her tank top slightly wrinkled.
She looks exhausted, frazzled. Not solid and sharp like she usually is.
When we first started dating, she never paced. Everything with her was easy then.
Coffee runs with her laughing at my dumb jokes. Late nights in her apartment before she agreed to wear my cut. Day-long rides on my bike, wind whipping around us, and her arms wrapped around me tight.
Before I brought her here.
Before this place became part of us.
This tension? It's just stress.
This will pass.
I'll build the house and get her out of this room. We will fix it.
"And Mara?" she presses. "Did they... do they know anything?"
"We're looking." I respond… is that why she’s so worked up. She thinks something happened to Mara on the compound that I keep telling her is safe.
Her eyes widened slightly. "Are you?"
There's that edge again.
"Cypher's on it. Angel's coordinating."
"And Razor?" her voice almost breaks on his name.
My eyes narrow slightly.
"What about him?"
"He seems off... riled up." She says taking a step back.
"He's pissed." I growl.
"So are you." She almost whispers as she takes another step back.
I step closer. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She looks up at me and I see it: she isn't trying to be combative; she isn't even angry... She looks strained, scared.
"It means what I said, you seem angry. I haven't seen you in days, I... I have been here alone and..." She cuts herself off, shaking her head, like she's already made a decision about something.
Fuck, I don't think I have ever seen her this rattled. I take a step towards her, but she takes another step back.
"I need to talk to you." She pleads.
I thought the tension would lessen seeing her, but I have an uneasy feeling and I don’t like it.
"About what?" I ask hesitantly.
"About this place. About what's happening." She almost whispers. "I..."
Voices rise downstairs.
"CHURCH." Angel bellows.
The building vibrates with it. It’s the same tone his father used to use.
"Keep your house tight." That's what Angel's dad used to say. He said it the night he pulled me out from under a rival's boot when I was seventeen and bleeding out behind a gas station.
He said it when he brought me inside the gates for the first time.
He said it to Angel before he died and told us that unity is survival.
Angel's father saved my life, and then Angel did too.
Two years after his father brought me into the club, when a run went bad, and I froze, Angel shoved me out of the line of fire and took the hit meant for me.
That kind of loyalty isn't optional.
It's blood.
"Now is not the time," I say.
"When is?" she asks quietly, something breaking in her voice.
"When this isn't chaos." I answer feeling beyond exhausted.
She runs both hands through her hair, pulling on the ends slightly, before rubbing her palms over her thighs. "It's always chaos." She says it almost to herself, like it didn’t matter if I heard it.
But I fucking heard her.
Is that how she feels? Like, we are in constant chaos?
My heart is racing because I can feel her slipping away, this isn’t my wife… and I have no idea what the fuck is going on.
How do I fix this? I am barely home and already feel like I am being pulled in too many directions.
She looks down at her feet, fingers playing with the hem of her tank top.
"If you're not coming to bed tonight," she says, softer now, "I don't want to stay here."
"You're safe here." I groan, because I am not doing this again.
"Am I?" She looks me in the eye now, and there are so many emotions swirling in hers.
"Yes." I say with all the confidence I have.
She studies me like she doesn't believe it, like she's measuring something I can't see.
"I can't compete with an entire club," she says, tears pooling in her eyes.
What the fuck does that mean?
Doesn't she know I just got back from a run to a shit show? All I wanted was her. But my brother is in jail. Mara is missing... I am tired and don't have the energy to deal with more than I already am.
"You're not competing." I sigh. Exhaustion threatening to weigh me down, but I don't have time to stop or rest.
But she sees it, because I'm already backing toward the door.
Already choosing.
Angel calls my name, and I hesitate.
I want to cross the room, grab her face and tell her she's not second, that she is everything to me…
But the club is burning downstairs, and she steps back first.
"Go." Her voice is resigned.
I don't respond; I don't know what to say. So I turn and follow my brothers to Church.
Church drags, longer than it should.
Cypher lays out what he knows, while Ledger pushes back on weak points, and Axel argues to put pressure on the sheriff.
Razor talks too much, even for Razor. He's too animated. Too invested in the idea that someone inside flipped.
Angel shuts him down twice.
But everyone is on edge and latching on to anything to point a finger towards.
"Keep your house tight," he tells me quietly as the meeting breaks.
This isn't the first time he's said it recently and now I'm starting to question why.
Before I can respond, he asks, "How is Bex doing with all this?"
That has me paying attention. She should have been here the whole time I was gone. He should have had eyes on her.
"She seems shaken. I need to get back to her." I pause, unsure of what I am trying to figure out… unsure of what I should be asking my president right now. "Has she not been around?"
Angel rolls his neck, the stress apparent, "You know, Bex, she doesn't really come out when you aren't around. I think she spent most of her time working or in your room. I don't think I talked to her once this week."
Fuck... why is she isolating herself? Why did she have her gun under the pillow?
I take the stairs two at a time, and I already know something is wrong when I enter our empty room. The bathroom light is off, and the door is open. Bex's side of the closet is lighter; her scrubs and overnight bag are gone.
My stomach drops when I see the note on my pillow.
I'm staying at the hospital for a few nights. I can't sleep here right now.
I flex my hands at my sides, trying not to punch something. I needed her to be here.
I need her on my side for once…
Four is in a cell.
Mara is missing.
Angel is tightening ranks.
And my wife doesn't feel safe behind my gates.
Unity fixes this... it has to.