“He was our only lead. Our only way to find Terrance.”
“No, he wasn't.” I move closer. “You have his laptop. His files. His phone.”
V looks up from where he's been staring at Vincent's corpse. He wipes his hands on his jeans, leaving bloody streaks. “It'll take time, but?—”
“We don't have time!” Thor slams his damaged fist against the wall again. “Every second we waste, Terrance is planning his next move. He'll know Vincent's dead soon enough.”
“How?” I ask. “How will he know?”
Ratchet crouches beside the overturned table, gathering scattered tools. “These guys always have check-in protocols. When Vincent doesn't report in...”
“He’ll know he’s either dead or compromised,” I finish for him. The implications hit me like ice water.
Terrance will send someone else. Someone worse.
The thought takes root in my mind, sprouting tendrils of dread that wrap around my throat. I've spent years trying to run from this man, but I never truly understood what I was running from until now. Not just an abuser. A monster who eliminates problems without hesitation.
“Our next move needs to be hitting the Vegas chapter. Cut the head off the snake and use it to find Terrance.”
“Vegas chapter of what?”
The three men exchange glances, a silent communication passing between them that excludes me completely. Thor's jaw tightens, his bloodied knuckles clenching at his sides.
“There's something I haven't told you. Something you need to know.”
My stomach drops, and that familiar sensation of dread washes over me. More secrets. More danger. Will it ever end?
“The Heaven's Rejects has multiple chapters,” Thor continues. “Vegas is one of them. Run by a man named Ace.”
“And?” I press, sensing there's more. Much more.
Thor exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Ace is connected to this. All of it.”
The basement suddenly feels colder, the smell of blood more pronounced. “Connected how?”
“The men who drugged you and your friend? They weren't random predators. They work for Ace.”
The revelation strikes me like a punch to the gut. I reach for the workbench to steady myself, my fingers brushing something wet I can't bring myself to identify.
“Are you saying...” I struggle to form the words, to make sense of this new horror. “Are you saying your own club is involved in trafficking women?”
“Not mine. One of the other chapters,” Thor growls. “They’re the reason that I am here. They’re violating the rules of our club. I was sent to handle them.”
Silence stretches between us, brittle and sharp.
Ratchet shifts uncomfortably in the corner. Even V keeps his mouth shut.
I glance around the basement, suddenly aware of how deep I am in this. Not just with Thor. Not just with Terrance.
But with all of it.
This isn’t just about my ex-husband anymore. This isn’t just about revenge or survival.
A club war is brewing, and I’m the spark that lit the fuse.
THOR
The tasteof rage is copper and salt, bitter as it coats my tongue while I watch Charlotte disappear up the basement stairs. She doesn't look back. Doesn't say a word. Just walks away from the carnage I've created with measured steps that echo against concrete.
