REBECCA
I still don't know why I listened to him. Alessio. Of all people. Usually, this conversation goes the exact opposite way. I insist on coming to the clubhouse. He insists I stay home. We argue. He loses. Today...
He practically shoved me out the front door. "Go to work, babe."
"Alessio—"
"I'm serious."
"Charly—"
"Will call."
"What if—"
"No what-ifs."
Then he cupped my face. Kissed my forehead. And looked me straight in the eyes. "The second Charly knows something, we'll be on my jet. Until then..." his thumb brushed my cheek, "go distract yourself before you drive both of us insane."
Easy for him to say. He's not waiting to find out if his sister is alive. I check my phone again. Nothing. For the hundredth time. Well...
Almost nothing. Charly's last text still stares back at me.
Charly:
Still at the house. Waiting for her to show.
Forty-three minutes ago. Forty-three. Not that I'm counting.
Okay. I'm absolutely counting. I've looked up commercial flights.
Rental cars. Driving directions. My truck wouldn't survive the trip.
If I'm lucky, it'd make it as far as Hoover Dam before the carburetor decided to go out for good.
The truck is okay on level roads, but the mountains? Phsh, forget it.
Alessio promised we'd leave the second Charly called. Which means all I can do... is wait. I hate waiting. It makes me think. Thinking makes me spiral. Which is exactly how I end up back where every terrible life decision seems to start.
The Black Canyon Reapers’ clubhouse. I slide another cheap whiskey across the bar. Scorpion catches it without looking. "Thanks, sweetheart."
"Don't."
He grins. "You smile prettier."
"I wasn't smiling."
"Exactly."
I contemplate poisoning him. Just a little. Instead, I lean on the bar. "So..."
He raises an eyebrow.
"You know anything about Luciana?"
He snorts. "I might."
Hope flickers. "What'll it cost me?"
His grin widens. "Take your top off."
I stare at him. Then at the pitcher of ice water sitting beside the soda gun. He follows my gaze.
"Aw, hell."
Too late. I dump the entire thing over his head. Ice cubes bounce off his leather vest. Water streams down his beard. The clubhouse erupts in laughter.
Scorpion wipes his face with one hand. "You know..."
He chuckles. "Someone's in a bad mood."
"You noticed."
He points a finger at me. "Boyfriend not here?"
I bite my tongue before I accidentally blurt out, He's not my boyfriend and ruin Alessio's cover.
Dramatically, he wrings water out of his beard. "Whatever."
I roll my eyes. Across the street, behind the dark windows of the wine distributor, Alessio is almost certainly watching the front door through binoculars or satellite imagery or whatever paranoid mafia bosses use these days.
He insisted. Again. He calls it security. I call it stalking with better funding.
The panic button tucked into my back pocket feels heavier than usual. Comforting and annoying at the same time. Very Alessio.
Movement catches my eye. Razor's office door opens.
For just a second. Long enough for me to glimpse a pair of bare legs.
Young legs. Too young. The girl can't be more than sixteen.
Maybe seventeen if life has been particularly cruel.
Razor says something. She laughs. She's not here against her will.
None of these young girls are. She's willing.
As willing as any sixteen-year-old can be.
I tried talking to her before, to see if I could help her.
She told me to fuck off and mind my own business.
The door closes again. My stomach turns. A few weeks ago... I would've swallowed the guilt, told myself I couldn't blow my cover, that it was for Rachel, for the greater good. Find one girl by sacrificing another.
It was a bargain I hated... but one I could live with.
Now? After the warehouse? After helping those women into ambulances?
After hearing them cry because somebody finally believed them?
I push away from the bar. That's it. I've had enough.
Fuck the investigation. Fuck my cover. Fuck Razor.
If I have to drag that girl out of his office kicking and screaming myself, then that's exactly what I'm going to—
The clubhouse door slams open. Every conversation dies.
A man I don't recognize storms inside, one fist tangled in a woman's hair as he practically drags her across the scarred wooden floor.
She stumbles. Falls to one knee. He jerks her upright again without breaking stride.
Blood streaks one side of her face. Her lip is split.
One eye is swelling shut. For a second, I don't recognize her. Then she lifts her head.
Oh... God. Audra.
Gabe's Audra. The woman from the casino. The woman Gabe couldn't stop looking at. Nobody in the clubhouse reacts. Nobody reaches for a weapon. Nobody looks surprised. The stranger shoves Audra through Razor's office door before disappearing in after her.
The door slams shut. My heart starts pounding. Fast. Hard. I pull my phone out.
Alessio answers before the first ring finishes. "Hey, Grease Mon—"
"Somebody just dragged Audra into Razor's office."
Stunned silence hits my ear for a second. Then— "Gabe's Audra?"
His voice has gone completely flat.
"Yes."
"You're sure?"
"I'd bet my life on it."
Another beat. I can almost hear him thinking.
"What do you want me to do?" I whisper.
"Nothing."
The word cracks through the phone like a gunshot.
"I'm handling it."
"But—"
"I mean it, babe."
The quiet violence in his voice makes me stop talking. I've heard that tone exactly twice before. Both times, someone ended up in the hospital. "Get out."
"I can—"
"No." By the sounds of it, he's already moving. I can hear a door slam. Voices.
"I've got men around the corner." He instructs me. I know about the SUV; he made sure I knew where it was parked every time before I walked into the clubhouse. "They'll take you back to the penthouse."
"I don't need a babysitter."
"You do today."
His voice softens just enough. "Please."
That one word catches me off guard. Not an order. A plea.
"I don't like this."
"I know. Promise me."
I close my eyes. "I promise."
"Good."
The line goes dead. I lower the phone. My eyes immediately drift back to Razor's office.
The door opens. The teenage girl from earlier storms out.
Her mascara is smeared. She looks furious.
Good, maybe she'll be mad enough to never come back.
Flea watches her leave. Then heads straight for the office.
He doesn't knock. He walks right in. Shit. Something's happening. Something big. I promised Alessio. I did. And if he walks in here and catches me still standing around...
He's going to lose his ever-loving mind. Which, honestly, is the last thing he needs if he's about to go to war over Gabe's woman. I force my feet to move. One step. Then another. Toward the back exit. Every instinct I have screams that I'm walking away from something important.
I swallow. Take another step. I gave Alessio my word. I reach for the back door. My fingers wrap around the handle. A muffled scream erupts from Razor's office. I freeze.