Chapter 30
HARLAN - FRIENDLY DEBATE
Ava’s words wouldn’t stop replaying in my head.
"Tell me you’re not part of the problem."
I’d been telling myself for nearly a year that I was trying.
That I was fighting the good fight from inside the walls.
But trying didn’t mean anything when the walls kept closing in and the rot kept spreading.
A year of chasing ghosts through paperwork, a year of watching Voss rot everything she touched, a year of silence where I should have been anything but.
And now she wasn’t answering my calls.
Not that I blamed her.
It had taken me a day to call, and I could only imagine how that had fueled her fire. A day too long. After almost twelve months of telling her to trust me, I’d hesitated when it mattered.
But the station had been on edge ever since she left.
The tension between me and Voss hung in the air like static before a storm.
Officers were choosing sides without realizing they were doing it.
I could feel it. See it in the way they stood, the way they paused mid-sentence around me.
The way they looked over their shoulders like they were waiting for something to crack.
I’d started my own documentation quietly.
Nothing official yet, notes, discrepancies in reports.
Repeat names, overlap between Erin’s intakes and Ava's or Remi’s clients.
I was building a file, slowly, deliberately.
Because if I was going to clean this place up, I needed to be sure. I needed to move smart.
But every second I spent on internal rot meant one more second that the outside world had to wait.
And the outside world wasn’t waiting quietly.
That morning, I got the call I’d been dreading.
Another MC flare-up. This time it wasn’t some backroad confrontation or bar scuffle; it was public. Midday. Another gas station. But this time, civilians were involved.
Cole Dawson and Logan Maddox.
Hammer and Spike.
Of course.
I pulled into the scene just behind one of our black-and-whites.
It wasn’t a full-on brawl yet, but it was close.
Blood had already been drawn. Their crews were spread out in small clusters, tension thick in the air like diesel and sweat.
One man had a cut on his jaw; another had a bruise already blooming around an eye. No weapons drawn… yet.
Cole stood near the pumps, arms crossed, jaw tight. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Controlled, but heavy.
Logan, on the other hand, leaned against his bike like he was posing for a goddamn poster. Grinning, shirt half-untucked, blood drying at his lip. He looked like he wanted someone to throw the next punch so that he had an excuse to keep fighting.
I stepped between them. Again.
“This what we’re doing now?” I said. “Trying to see who can rack up the most property damage before lunch?”
Cole looked at Logan. Logan looked back, unbothered.
“Just a conversation,” Cole said, voice low.
Logan smirked. “Friendly debate.”
“Bullshit,” I snapped. “This is the third incident in two months. You’re both pushing it.”
Cole turned to me. “He showed up where he didn’t belong.”
Logan shrugged. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing.”
“You’re both wrong,” I said. “You’re in my house, and I’m telling you right now, this ends today.”
Cole said nothing.
Logan raised a brow. “Or what, Chief? You gonna lock us up? Again?”
“I’ll bury both of your clubs in paperwork so deep; you’ll be begging for cell time just to get some sleep.”
They stared at each other like I didn’t exist.
And then it happened.
One of Cole’s men, Mackie, I think, stepped too close to one of Logan’s. Words were exchanged. A shove. And then…
Chaos.
It only lasted a minute. Maybe less. Fists flying.
Men shouting. Boots scraping pavement. I pulled one man off another while Reid grabbed someone else by the collar and dragged him back.
My shoulder caught a wild elbow, but I didn’t stop until I was between Cole and Logan again, my gun was drawn this time because I had had enough of their shit, both of them breathing hard, blood on their knuckles, murder in their eyes.
“Enough!” I barked.
Everything froze.
“You want a war? Fine. Start one. But not here. Not in my goddamn town.”
Cole wiped blood from his mouth. “This isn’t over.”
Logan grinned like it was a game. “It never is. Hammer, you’re just pissed because your pussy’s been leaving for our club. What... can’t keep them happy?”
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
Cole turned red. “Spike, I couldn’t give a flying fuck where you stick your dick as long as it’s far away from me. I can’t imagine what kind of lies you have to spew to get anyone to stay around longer than…” Cole eyed Logan up and down with a dismissive look, “I give you what... five minutes?”
Logan stood up straight, arms out wide and did a little spin for Cole. “That is not what Candy said last night. When she was screaming my name, not yours. She was one of your favourites before… right?”
Cole looked like he wanted to throw his bike at Logan.
How is this the shit I’m dealing with right now?
I looked at both of them, disgusted. “I don’t care who started it.
Or who is fucking who. I DON’T CARE who wins your little pissing contest. I care that it is finished.
I have far more important things I should be dealing with instead of you assholes.
If either of you steps out of line again, I’ll make sure the fallout burns everyone in both clubs. ”
Neither of them replied. They just stared each other down, then turned back to their crews.
As they left, I caught something in Cole’s face I didn’t expect fatigue. Not the physical kind. The kind that comes from carrying too much for too long.
And in Logan?
Smugness. Confidence. But also, something darker. Something that made my gut twist.
There was more going on here than turf and bad blood.
I didn’t know what yet.
But after more than a year of watching cracks spread, in the station, in the city, and now in Ava, I had the distinct feeling this was only the start.
And whatever was coming… I wasn’t sure the badge would be enough to stop it.