Page 9 of Desert Loyalties

MANDRAKE

I want to take Skye and run. Just disappear. Let the world burn behind us if it has to. The thought of her in danger makes my skin crawl.

The clubhouse is a mess. Sofas overturned. Bottles shattered. The kitchen’s a clutter of open cabinets and splintered drawers.

“They’re here,” a prospect mutters, jerking his chin toward the church room.

We step in, and the entire brotherhood is there. Ranger’s already at the front, arms folded across his chest. His jaw ticks when he sees us.

“All non-patched, out.” he says. “Not You,” when Skye turns to leave.

The prospects file out, glancing at Skye like she’s radioactive. The door shuts behind them with a heavy finality.

I step forward. “What the fuck happened?”

Ranger doesn’t answer right away. Just lifts his chin and points at Skye. “Ask her.”

Brothers shift, spreading out. A few position themselves between us and the door. My muscles coil. I don’t like this. Feels too much like a cage.

“What the fuck, Ranger?” My voice is sharp. Threatening.

He doesn’t flinch. “DEA came up empty. No drugs, no guns, no anything. But the raid? The warrant? It was based on intel from a confidential informant.”

The word hits the room like a live grenade.

Mickey, our tech guy, steps forward, clutching a tablet. “They did’t put the CI’s name in the system. But I pulled the phone and financial records of the lead agent.”

He taps the screen. “He didn’t make any calls. But he paid for a messenger app. Disappearing messages, encrypted, all that. I traced the signal of the only person he messaged on the other end.”

He pauses. I don’t like where this is going.

Mickey exhales. “The IP came from here. From inside the compound.”

My pulse spikes.

He lifts his gaze to Skye. “More specifically it traced back to your guesthouse.”

She stiffens beside me.

Skye shakes her head, furious. “Of course I didn’t do it. Why the hell would I?”

Caine cuts in like a jackal. “Then why’d you change your name?”

She hesitates. Just for a second. “I wanted a new start,” she says. Her voice cracks at the edge.

Mickey doesn’t let up. “The messages are gone, but timestamps aren’t. They were all sent while you were off-shift. And the morning of the raid? You just happened to be gone.”

I feel her flinch beside me. My fingers itch to pull her behind me, shield her from the pack.

Locke steps forward. “None of us really know you, sweetheart. You don’t party. You don’t fuck the crew. Then suddenly you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” He points to me like I’m a damn prize she conned her way into.

Lehi chimes in next. “And you’re an heiress. Osborne Hospitals. Your daddy’s worth millions. Why would a rich girl change her name and bartend at a biker bar?”

I turn sharply. My stare locked on her.

She swallows. Her voice comes small but strong. “None of you know me.” Her chin lifts. She's scared, but defiant. “I’m not standing here while you throw accusations like goddamn cowards. Caine, don’t you have a wife you lie to every day while screwing anything with a pussy?”

Caine’s face darkens, but he doesn’t say a word.

“And you, Lehi?” she throws at him. “Doesn’t your mom still think you’re fighting for your country?”

The room buzzes with rage and shame.

“We all have secrets,” she finishes. “That doesn’t make me a traitor.”

I should be proud of her for fighting back, but all I feel is this tightening in my chest. Rage and fear twisted together. I look at Ranger.

“We’re not fuckin’ doing this,” I say.

His voice is hard. “We have to question her.”

I hate that he’s right. Hate it more that she looks at me with trust.

“No one touches her,” I say. “You want answers, fine. You’ll get them. But it’s me. I’m the one who questions her.”

Ranger holds my stare for a long second. Then he nods.

I turn to Skye, she’s already looking at me, expecting me to step in. To protect her. To get her out of this mess, whatever the hell this is.

And I want to. God, I want to.

But I can’t. Not right now. Not with the entire club watching. Not with the weight of my patch burning on my back and the eyes of my brothers waiting to see if I’ll break rank. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

I don’t say a word as two brothers step up to flank her. My voice feels like glass in my throat when I say, “Get her to the basement.”

She flinches like I struck her. Like the words did more damage than any fist could.

“Drake,” she says, voice cracking. One word. My name. Like a plea. Like a curse.

I can’t even look at her. If I do, I’ll fold.

Ranger doesn’t say anything more, he doesn’t have to. The order’s been given. We all play our roles now.

The brothers reach for her. She jerks away on instinct, like she doesn’t quite believe this is happening.

“I’m not running,” she says, fierce and broken at the same time. “I didn’t do this. And you know it.”

I clench my fists. I do know it. Every part of me knows it. But appearance matters right now. “Just go with them,” I murmur, barely audible. “Don’t make this worse.”

She shakes her head, eyes full of betrayal, lips trembling with a truth I won’t let her speak.

And then, with more strength than anyone gives her credit for, she turns on her heel and walks right out of the room flanked by two men twice her size, head held high like a queen being led to the gallows.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream.

But fuck, I almost did.

She shakes her head, eyes full of betrayal, lips trembling with a truth I won’t let her speak.

And then, with more strength than anyone ever gives her credit for, she turns on her heel and walks right out of the room, flanked by two men twice her size, head held high like a queen being led to the gallows.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream.

But fuck, I almost did.

The second the door slams shut behind her, the room shifts. The silence she leaves behind feels heavier than any raid, any bullet I’ve ever taken.

“Brothers,” Ranger says, arms crossed and eyes hard, “go through anything illegal you’ve got stashed. Burn it, bury it, make it disappear. The DEA might come back with individual warrants now. Stay clean. Don’t give them a reason.”

Lehi leans against the wall, arms crossed, voice too damn casual. “They won’t be able to if their informant disappears.”

I take a step before I even register it with my fist clenched, pulse thundering in my ears. I want to put his head through the drywall. Maybe I will.

Ranger’s voice slices through the tension. “No one is touching her.”

“She might be innocent,” I snap, jaw tight.

“She’s your woman,” Mickey says, tapping his tablet, “I get it. But if anything happens to her now, anything, the DEA gets a blood-slick invitation to tear this place down, patch by patch. If she disappears? We’ll be the most obvious suspects.”

Every part of me wants to storm that basement, break the locks, throw her on the back of my bike and ride until the road runs out.

But I don’t move.

Because I’m not just her man.

I’m the VP.

And this is my fuckin’ job.

Joker and Tank come stomping back in, the air around them charged. "She’s in the east room," Joker grunts, tossing a small bundle onto the table. Her phone, keys, a few personal things. It’s clear he’s not happy with this.

Mickey picks it up, already tapping into his rhythm. “I’ll check it. Make sure whatever messages got traced came from her line.” He disappears down the hall, without another word.

I don’t say anything. Just follow Ranger and the others to the basement.

The basement's a relic, its cold, brutal, full of ghosts.

Back in the day, Viking, the old prez, had a thing for vengeance.

Found every man his wife ever touched, chained them down here, and made her watch him break them. Piece by piece. Sick bastard.

Now one of those rooms holds my woman.

We step into the control room, it has concrete walls, metal chairs, a long-ass table scarred with cigarette burns and bloodstains. Monitors line the far wall, each supposed to show the rooms. Locke hits the switch. Static. Every screen’s just white noise and snow.

“The fuck?” he mutters.

Ranger’s jaw clenches. “Those DEA pricks must’ve cut the lines.”

No visuals. No sound. And no eyes on Skye.

I feel something boil low in my gut.

They’ve taken my woman’s name, her peace, now her fuckin’ face from me. I need to see her.

This club? It’s built on rules, order, blood ties deeper than DNA. But right now, all I want to do is break the door down and hold her. Even if she hates me for it.

Ranger doesn’t look at me when he says, “We have to trust you, brother. You’re on your own.”

He takes a seat at the head of the table, rest of the brothers following him.

I turn on my heel, done with the bullshit. Time to see my woman.