Page 69 of Property of Anchor

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Page 69 of Property of Anchor

He paused the footage and turned his head toward me.“I know, brother.”

We didn’t need to say more.That last photo on the USB, Pearl.Standing on the porch of her cabin.A timestamp from just days ago.

Four dead.Four fucking dead.

And we still had no goddamn clue who was behind it.

I raked a hand through my hair, and the tension in my shoulders wound so tight it made my neck ache.We were used to death in this club.It came with the patch.But not like this.Not with this kind of slow burn.Not this kind of stalking, twisted message-painting serial bullshit.

“We’ve got time, Anchor,” Skull said, voice low and steady.“There’ve been a couple of days between each murder.We’re not going to let anything happen to her.”

He leaned forward and clicked the spacebar again, letting the footage loop.The blurry fucker moved the same way each time.Like he knew where the camera ended.Where to step.Where not to look up.

“We’ve got a leg up having her here with us,” Skull went on.“These four bodies?We didn’t know ‘em.Didn’t know where they were, didn’t know to even be looking.But Pearl?She’s here.Right here.Under our protection.We can keep her safe.”

He said it like it was fact.Like saying it out loud made it true.

I wanted to believe it.

But that same voice that kept me up every night, that gut-level itch that’d saved my life more than once, was screaming louder now.

What if that’s exactly what the bastard wanted?

Our killer was right there on the screen.Over and over.Frame by fucking frame.

Still, we had no idea who the hell it was.

A club member?

Venom, wearing his old patch like some deranged calling card?

Or someone we hadn’t even clocked yet.Someone just smart enough to slink through the gaps like smoke, using our own island against us?

Skull cursed under his breath and zoomed in again, trying to catch any kind of facial detail or any glint of identity.But there was nothing.Just a shadow draped in denim and black, like the devil had found himself a uniform and learned how to use our cameras.

“I’ve got Wannabe going out at first light,” Skull said.“Him and Cross are going to start rewiring the cliffs.We’re gonna put eyes where the sun don’t even reach.”

“Good,” I grunted.“Tell Lost to swap with Push around eight.I want fresh eyes on Pearl.His ass looked tired as hell when he came to watch her.”

Skull glanced at me.“You gonna tell her?”

I stared at the screen.Pearl’s face flashed in my mind.The way she smiled at me like I was someone good.Like she didn’t realize the weight I was carrying every time I walked through her door.

“About this?I don’t know,” I said.“She already knows too much.”In the past, no outsider knew any information about the club.Now Pearl knew it all, and it didn’t terrify me as much as I thought it would.I knew I could trust her.And also, she was right in the middle of it.

Silence stretched between us, thick as tar.

“She’s tough,” Skull offered.“Girl like that, she doesn’t fold easy.”

“She shouldn’t have to be tough,” I snapped, more to myself than to him.“She came here to paint a fucking haunted house, not get wrapped up in club shit.”

“And yet here we are,” Skull said dryly, leaning back and rubbing his eyes.“We protect our own, Anchor.You made her yours.That means she’s one of us now.And that means this club goes to war if someone tries to take her from us.”

My jaw clenched.He was right.I’d claimed her, maybe not with words, maybe not with some ceremony, but in every way that mattered, she was mine.And I’d burn this island to ash before I let some ghost get within reach of her.

“I want twenty-four-hour surveillance until we find this motherfucker,” I said.“Add trail cams.Motion sensors.I don’t care what it takes.”

Skull nodded and stood, cracking his back.“Already on it.You need to get some rest, Prez.”


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