Page 14 of Fang (Underground Vengeance MC, NOLA Chapter #3)

My footsteps echo against the concrete floor as I make my way to Vapor’s office, laptop tucked under my arm like a shield.

The familiar weight of it grounds me, anchors me to what I know best—codes, systems, the elegant logic of technology.

People are messier, more unpredictable. Like Mina.

The thought of her sitting alone in my room, wearing my too-big clothes, trusting me with her brother’s life, sends an uncomfortable heat through my chest, something that feels dangerously close to responsibility.

I pause outside Vapor’s door, knuckles raised. This is the moment I could turn back and just tell Mina there’s nothing I can do. But the image of her face when she spoke about her brother flashes in my mind. It’s the same desperation I’ve experienced since Tommy disappeared.

I knock, three sharp raps.

“Enter,” comes Vapor’s voice, low and authoritative.

I push into the room, the familiar scent of leather, bourbon, and gun oil wrapping around me.

Vapor’s office is a study in controlled chaos.

A worn oak desk dominates the center, its surface covered with tactical maps of New Orleans, the territories marked with different colored pins—red for cartel, blue for us, yellow for neutral ground.

The walls are adorned with club insignia, vintage motorcycle parts mounted like trophies, and framed photographs of brothers both living and dead.

Vapor sits behind the desk, a glass of amber liquid at his elbow, untouched. His slicked-back hair gleams black as a raven’s wing under the low light of his desk lamp. Those sharp blue eyes miss nothing as they track my entrance, cataloging my body language and the laptop under my arm.

The muscles in my neck tense. I can’t quite put my finger on what’s up with Vapor, but his mood seems off.

Normally he’s much friendlier and open to talking, but today, shit feels different.

Maybe it’s because I didn’t tell him I was going to Texas.

Or because I brought Mina here without clearing it through him first. He’s probably questioning my judgement.

Considering what I’m about to ask him, his distrust isn’t going to help me make my case.

“I need to talk to you about Mina,” I begin.

“Thought we were going to discuss the woman during Church.”

“I could wait, but I figured it might be easier to explain if it was just the two of us.”

“If it’s going to be hard to explain, then that’s even more reason to talk about it during Church.” Vapor leans back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath his weight.

“It can’t wait.”

“Fine. Go ahead.” He nods.

“We’ve been talking shit over and she might be able to help us with the cartel.”

“You vouching for her already? That was quick.” He smirks.

“It’s not like that. I’m vouching for her skills,” I clarify, opening the laptop and typing in my password. “She stopped the cartel’s latest attack without breaking a sweat. She’s damn good at what she does.”

Vapor raises a brow and drops the sarcasm. “Show me.”

I turn the screen toward him, navigating through files with practiced efficiency. “They tried to hit us with a polymorphic worm embedded in what looked like a routine traffic camera feed. Smart approach—they know we tap into those feeds to monitor shipments.”

Lines of code fill the screen, a language as familiar to me as English.

I point to specific sections, highlighting them with my cursor.

“Here’s where their code starts to unpack itself.

Nasty piece of work. Would have established a backdoor into our entire network, given them access to everything—member details, operations, finances. ”

Vapor leans forward, eyes narrowed. Though he doesn’t understand the technical details, he grasps the implications immediately. “And Mina caught this?”

I shake my head. “No, but she redirected it. Look here.” I pull up another window showing a different segment of code. “She created a fake system that looks like our real one. Diverted the attack there, then traced it back to its source.”

“The cartel’s servers?”

“Better.” I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. Technical elegance always pleases me, even when it comes from unexpected sources. “She traced it back to the specific laptop that created it. Got the guy’s name, location, even grabbed screenshots through his webcam.”

I show Vapor the images—a scowling man with a patchy beard typing furiously, cartel tattoos visible on his forearms. “Juan Vasquez’s pet hacker. Guy named Rodrigo who runs their cyber operations out of a warehouse near the port.”

Vapor’s fingers drum against the desk while he processes the information.

“Impressive,” he admits. “But it doesn’t mean she’s not playing both sides.”

“I thought you might say that.” I close the hacker documentation and open a different folder. “So, I did some digging on Mina before I came to talk to you.”

Vapor’s eyes sharpen. “Without authorization?”

“With due diligence,” I counter, meeting his gaze directly. “You wanted me to vet her. I’m being thorough.”

“What did you find?”

“She has a brother. Name’s Rory Bishop.” I pull up his medical records.

“Diagnosed with Primary Hyperoxaluria Type 1, a rare kidney condition, when he was about twelve years old. Currently in intensive care. Mina thinks she located him. If she’s right, then he’s in one of the cartel’s small hospitals in NOLA.

His condition requires specialized equipment and constant monitoring.

” I scroll through billing statements. “The cartel’s been covering his medical expenses through a shell corporation called Bayou Health Services.

Over five million dollars in the past decade. ”

“And why would they do that?” he asks. His expression doesn’t change, but I see the slight tightening around his eyes. He has a soft spot for family loyalty, for siblings looking out for each other. It’s one of the reasons we connected when I first joined the club.

“They’re keeping her brother alive in exchange for her technical skills. It’s a long story, but—”

“Spill it.”

I tell him everything Mina told me, starting with her mother leaving and ending with her joining the cartel.

I even tell him about her cartel boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend. That matters. If she was still hooked up with one of them romantically, then I’d never consider helping her.

Her loyalty could easily be split. However, I checked and there hasn’t been any communication between Mina and Carlos in well over a year.

Vapor’s silent for a few seconds. The fact that he hasn’t shut me down yet means I’ve got a shot at getting him to help us.

“There’s more,” I say, pulling up a new window. “I found these in a cloud storage account linked to Mina’s email. This is one of the main pieces of evidence that makes me believe her.”

The screen fills with screenshots of text messages, each more threatening than the last.

* Remember your brother needs continuous dialysis to stay alive. Shame if there was a power outage. *

* Getting harder to source his meds. Better make this job count. *

* Your brother asked about you today. Told him you were too busy to visit. Should I tell him the truth instead? *

Vapor reads them silently, his jaw tightening. “These could be manufactured,” he says finally. “Set up to gain our sympathy.”

“They could be,” I acknowledge. “But I cross-referenced the phone numbers. They match known cartel burners. And the timing aligns with jobs she’s confirmed to have done for them.” I close the laptop, meeting Vapor’s eyes. “I believe her. She’s been a prisoner as much as a collaborator.”

“And you want to do what, exactly?”

“Rescue her brother. In exchange, she’s got more info on the cartel than what we’ve got. She’s been in their systems for years. Her knowledge is invaluable.”

“Are you sure you’re not letting your personal history cloud your judgment?” he asks softly.

The words hit like a physical blow. He’s referencing Tommy without saying his name—my missing brother, and the guilt I’ve carried for sixteen years.

The reason I understand Mina’s desperation.

But this isn’t about Tommy. It’s about doing the right thing, which is what we do. Vapor should understand this.

“I’m not clouded,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “I’m clear-eyed. She’s an asset we can use against the cartel, and she has legitimate reasons to help us. She wants to destroy them as much as we do.”

Vapor picks up one of the red pins from his map and rolls it between his fingers, considering. “The evidence is compelling, but not conclusive. This could still be an elaborate ploy to infiltrate us. After what happened at the old clubhouse…”

He doesn’t need to finish. We both remember the bodies, the blood, the club girls who never had a chance to run. The cartel has proven there’s no line they won’t cross.

“I hear you,” I say. “But I also know what I’m seeing in this data. And in her.”

Vapor replaces the pin on the map, his movements deliberate.

“Show me something more. Something definitive,” he says.

“Something that proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’s cut ties with the cartel.

Then we’ll talk about extracting her brother.

We can’t risk walking into a trap. Not now. Not after everything.”

I shift in my chair, frustrated. “It’s not a trap.”

“You don’t know that.” He turns from the map, blue eyes glacial in the dim light.

“This could all be an elaborate setup. The cartel’s been gunning for us for years.

They blew up the old clubhouse, killing our brothers in the process.

They’ve got to be even more pissed off since we shot Juan Vasquez. This girl could be a trojan horse.”