"Warehouse. Industrial area north of town. By old railway."
I exchange glances with Blade. We know the place.
"Anything else you want to tell me? Last chance to be useful."
The biker licks his bloody lips. "New shipment coming. Two days. Girls from Eastern Europe. Very valuable."
"How many?"
"Ten. Maybe twelve."
I nod to Blade and Viper. "We're done here."
"What about him?" Viper asks, tilting his head toward the prisoner.
I consider our options. Killing him would be easiest. But dead men don't spread fear. Dead men don't carry warnings.
"Clean him up," I decide. "Then take him to the county line. One working leg, one working arm. Let him crawl back to Charles with a message: Pine Haven is Outlaw Order territory. Anyone trafficking humans through our town gets put down."
Relief washes over the biker's face at the realization he'll live. He doesn't understand that men like Charles don't tolerate failure. His life expectancy can be measured in hours once he delivers my message.
Not my problem.
I leave the shed, gulping in the clean night air. Violence has always been part of my life—first in the military, then in the club. I've made peace with that. But trafficking women? Children? That crosses a line I cannot abide.
My phone buzzes with a text from Ghost: *All quiet. Your guest still sleeping.*
I check the time. Nearly 3 AM. I should sleep, but my mind is racing with plans. We need to hit the warehouse before the new shipment arrives. Need to coordinate with our allies in neighboring territories. Need to prepare for Charles's inevitable retaliation.
Instead of heading back to the main building, I find myself walking toward my motorcycle. The night is clear, stars spread across the sky like scattered diamonds. I start the bike, keeping the engine quiet as I roll out of the compound.
The road calms me. Always has. The rhythm of the machine beneath me, the wind against my face. Out here, I'm not Reaper, President of the Outlaw Order. I'm just a man trying to outrun his demons.
Tonight, those demons wear Evelyn's face.
I ride for an hour, circling Pine Haven's perimeter, mentally mapping the routes the Vultures MC must use. By the time I return to the compound, my mind is clearer. I have a plan.
The main building is quiet when I enter. Ghost has gone to bed, leaving only Ace on watch. He nods as I pass, not asking questions. Good man.
I pause outside my bedroom door, listening. No sound from within. I could sleep on the couch in the common room, but I need to check on her first. Make sure she's still there. Still safe.
I knock softly. No response. I use my key to unlock the door, opening it just enough to peer inside.
The bed is empty, still made. For a moment, panic grips me. She's gone, escaped, vulnerable out there with Vultures MC hunting for their missing merchandise, until I spot her on the floor. She's curled in the corner, wrapped in a blanket, back against the wall. Even in sleep, she's positioned to see the door, to have warning if someone enters.
A soldier's instinct. A survivor's caution.
Something twists in my chest at the sight. She wouldn't even use my bed, too afraid or too proud. She sleeps like someone who expects to be attacked. I know that posture. I've slept that way myself, in countries where closing your eyes could mean never opening them again.
I should leave, give her privacy. Instead, I find myself entering the room, moving silently to the closet where I keep spare blankets. I select the softest one and approach her, slowly not to wake her up.
Her face in sleep is different. Younger. The hard wariness that shields her green eyes is gone, replaced by a vulnerability thatmakes my hands clench into fists. Someone did this to her. Someone broke her trust so completely that she sleeps like a hunted animal.
I drape the extra blanket over her gently, holding my breath when she stirs. She murmurs something unintelligible, then settles again, pulling the new blanket tighter around herself.
"You're safe," I whisper, though I know she can't hear me. "No one will hurt you here."
It's a promise I intend to keep, even if I have to burn Charles's entire operation to the ground. Even if I must put a bullet in the man himself.
