Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“You were the delivery method,” Deviant added.
She frowned. “So he’s not the one after me.”
“No.” Jax’s tone was blunt. “The ones who owned The Ledger before it went missing are the ones after you.”
Kane scratched his chin. “The way they came at you? Probably trying to keep him from getting it into the wrong hands. Or the right ones, depending on which side you’re on.”
“And they’re not the type to let something like this slide,” I growled, my fury building with every word.
Kane’s voice was calm steel as he asked, “We know who hit her?”
Jax had that answer ready. The window shifted to a grid of scrapes he’d pulled from traffic cams, the speedway gate, two liquor stores, and a church front that still thought security was a “thou shalt not” sign.
“Same white van shows up on four feeds, two cars do lag-and-lead. Plates are a salad. The van got a county fleet tag welded over the real one for an hour on two cameras. That trick is not a hobby move. The driver profile matches a private-sector security outfit out of Jacksonville that moonlights for anyone with a checkbook and no scruples.”
“There’s something else, though,” Deviant grunted. “That bike your woman stole? It’s registered to an enforcer for the Broken Skulls MC.”
“Fuck,” Kane hissed, his hands curling into fists.
The Broken Skulls were an MC in the next territory over. They were every bad thing you’d ever heard about motorcycle clubs. Had no problem crossing any fucking line—the prez would sell out his mother if it meant gaining more power.
“Broken Skulls did this?” Edge asked even though his mouth said he already knew the answer wasn’t that clean.
I shook my head. “Skulls don’t have that kind of polish on their paperwork.”
“The people we’re looking for,” Jax murmured, “they’d outsource. Hire mercenaries to grab the bag and keep their fingerprints off the panic.”
“The Skulls were muscle, along with the professional mercenaries, then?” Edge mused.
“Maybe,” Deviant replied. “Or they have an insider who told them about the handoff, and they tried to intercept the ball.”
Jax pointed at the screen with The Ledger still displayed. “Whoever bankrolled this is still in the dark. I’m sniffing, but if the buyer used a cut-out shell, it’ll take us time.”
“How much?” Kane asked.
Jax shrugged one shoulder. “Helix layers are like nesting safes. You crack one, discover the next has a different lock brand. But The Ledger itself—this is the game-changer. We don’t have to knock on doors with guns and hope one opens. We have the addresses.” He turned the center screen back to us. “The first thing we need to decide is—how loud do we want to be? Because the second I poke this wrong, the people who think they own this will feel it like a wire yanked out of their tooth.”
Edge had his knife in his hand again, rolling it between his fingers, the lazy motion the opposite of his eyes. “We don’t shout first. We listen. We use the ledger like a radio, not a grenade.”
“Agreed,” Kane said.
“But someone is coming for her,” I argued. My voice was steady, so I didn’t spook Ashlynn with what I was really feeling inside. “The ones who lost their toy. Or the ones who want it before we hand it back to its builder.”
Jax nodded once. “I can pivot the sandbox into a honeypot. Salt some fake keys, lay a breadcrumb path that points down a hall with a camera. If they sniff us, we’ll sniff back.”
Edge flicked the knife shut. “While you’re playing chess, we put bodies on fences. Nitro can talk to our friend at the county comms center about spikes in off-books chatter. Rev can pull street ears. We’ll find the van’s driver and make him tell us what he knows.”
Kane pushed away from the wall, his eyes glinting like steel. “Do it.”
“Good,” I snarled. “Because once we figure out who swung at her, we swing back. Hard enough they forget they were born with teeth.”
I caught Ashlynn’s gaze again. She’d gone pale under all that sass, her eyes distant like she was already somewhere else, running scenarios in her head. I didn’t like any of the ones I imagined.
The vest shifted when she breathed. The collar brushed her neck, and it hit me again—my cut on her, my patch on that leather, my possessive instincts climbing up the walls like vines. Not because she needed a brand. Because the entire fucking world needed a warning label.
She was quiet for too long, and I knew what was coming before she opened her mouth.
“Mason…”
I knew that tone. I hated it.
“Don’t,” I warned.
“But—”
“No,” I said flatly.
“You don’t even know what I’m—”
“You’re about to tell me to let you walk. Save it.”
Her shoulders pulled back, and there was a stubborn set to her jaw. The one I found so fascinating and so damn frustrating at the same time. “I’m serious, Mason. I don’t want to leave. But if I stay, they’ll bring this here. To you. To them.” She nodded toward my brothers. “You could all take the hit just for being in the blast radius. I won’t let that happen.”