Chapter 25
Reaper
The clubhouse was too damn quiet.
Even with the jukebox humming in the corner and the faint rattle of someone shooting pool in the back, the tension pressed down on my shoulders like a goddamn weight.
It was in the floorboards, the sideways glances, the way conversations died the second I walked in.
Word travelled fast in the club. Blood left a stain, even if there was no body.
I didn’t stop to talk. Didn’t drink. I walked straight to the war room and threw open the heavy door, letting it slam.
Riot was on my heels, silent as always.
“Get everyone,” I said.
He nodded, peeling off, already moving.
I headed into the room. Every meeting that mattered, every line drawn, every vote cast happened right here. This night would be no different.
Five minutes later, boots pounded in from every direction—back door, bunk rooms, garage, bar.
Link. Boxer. Even Spider, who’d been absent for two months, showed up with grease on his hands and fire in his almost black eyes.
His dark hair, too long to be tidy, hung in loose strands that brushed his jaw, and the stubble across his face made him look even more raw.
The door shut. Heat and seriousness thickened the air. Every man there had bled for their patch.
I stood, hands flat on the table and met eyes with each of them before I spoke. “We got the rat.”
Silence. No questions. No pushback. They already knew.
I continued. “Gage ran. He knew the second he saw the photo. Didn’t try to deny it.”
Keno leaned forward. “He’s been tight with the Fangs this whole time?”
I met his eyes. “Looks like.”
Riot cursed low. “That bastard—”
“I’m not done,” I interrupted. “We don’t know how far it goes yet. That flash drive Lucy brought? It’s real. Everything Diesel died for, everything the Fangs are willing to kill for, it’s on there. Transactions. Names. Meetings. One of them with Gage on the same night Diesel got clipped.”
Keno slammed a fist on the table. “So, he’s been feeding ‘em intel? Selling us out from the inside?”
“Looks that way,” I said. “And now, he’s ghosted. Left his bike in an alley downtown, blood on the gravel.”
“You think he’s dead?” Boxer asked.
“No,” Riot said. “Too smart. He dumped the bike to throw us off. He’s out there, regrouping. Probably with backup.”
I nodded. “Which means two problems. One, a rat who knows everything about our ops. Two—”
A knock came, small and hesitant.
I held up a hand and yelled, “Enter.”
Lucy stepped in. Not one of us. No kutte and no patch.
My eyes tracked her flowing dress and boots, hair tossed up messily, but somehow it looked perfect.
She moved like she belonged there. Visions of her underneath me flooded my mind along with the memory of her hands on my bare skin, and the way she breathed my name.
Heads turned, curious, hard, and unsure, but no one spoke.
She met my eyes, and I gave her a small nod.
“And two,” I said, “we think the Fangs know Lucy has the drive.”
That got their attention.
“Fuck,” muttered Link.
“They’ll come for her,” Boxer said.
“They’ll come for all of us,” I corrected. “They know the club has it, which means they’ll hit us where it hurts. Families. Shipments. They’ll burn this place to ash to stop that drive from getting out.”
Keno looked between us. “Where’d she even get it?”
She stepped forward. “It was Caleb’s. He left it hidden, locked away. I found it while digging into his death.”
Keno didn’t look convinced. “And you just handed it over?”
“No,” I said. “She came to me first. Gave me the lead that forced Gage’s hand. Without her, we’d still be feeding a traitor inside this room.”
Tension thickened as some were sizing her up to determine whether she was a friend or liability.
“She’s not patched,” Bishop muttered.
“No,” I said, staring him down, “but she’s the reason we’re ahead of this now, and we did hold a vote to let her in.”
“She better not be the reason we get smoked,” Keno said.
“Look around,” I snapped. “That reason already walked out the door with a Fang contact list and club intel. This woman just gave us a fighting chance. You gonna throw that away because she doesn’t wear a patch?”
Silence, hard stares, and tight jaws, but no arguments.
“So, what’s the play?” Riot asked.
I scanned the room. “We don’t wait. We bring the war to them. Be smart. Lock down our people. Protect the clubhouse. Hunt Gage. Bleed the Fangs out, one by one, until there’s nothing left.”
There was a pause, then Riot leaned back, lips curling. “About time we went hunting.”
“Damn right,” Link replied. “Been too quiet since Caleb.”
I turned to Lucy. “You still in?”
She nodded, no hesitation. “I didn’t come this far to back down now.”
War wasn’t coming—it was already here. And the club? We were ready to finish what Caleb had started.
I slammed the gavel down. “Church is in session. This time, we bury them all.”
I gave Lucy a grim smile as she headed out, door closing tightly behind her. She was learning. My house, my rules.
I stayed standing, hands braced on the table, eyes scanning the room.
Bishop was the first to break. He shook his head, muttering, “Bringing outsiders into church. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Better an outsider who gave us the rat,” Riot shot back, his voice flat, “than a brother who sold us out.”
Bishop glared but didn’t answer.
Link leaned forward, elbows on the table. “He’s right. I don’t like her in here either. But she brought proof, not rumours. Gage didn’t even try to deny it.”
Keno slammed a palm against the table. “I don’t trust her.”
“You don’t have to,” I said, sharp. “You trust me, and I’m telling you, without her, we’d still be blind.”
That shut them up, but I saw it in their eyes, the doubt and anger, all of it aimed at me as much as her.
Boxer broke the tension with a grunt. “I don’t care who brought the intel. All I care about is putting a bullet in Gage’s skull before he feeds the Fangs our throats.”
Riot cracked a rare grin. “Now, that’s the kind of clarity I like.”
The room rumbled with low curses and the sound of men shifting in their seats. Brothers were pulling themselves together, even if fractures ran through the mortar.
I stayed silent, letting it settle, because I knew the truth. Lucy hadn’t just walked into church tonight. She’d walked straight onto the line between me and the men I led.
If I chose wrong, it wouldn’t only be the Fangs tearing us apart.