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But had Bobby actually talked to her? Told her what the Brotherhood was up to? Maybe even about last night’s drug deal?

His stomach clamped tighter.

Logan stepped forward, trying to take some of the heat off Bobby, who’d become like a little brother to him. “Buzzy is solid. We all know that.”

Razor’s laugh was humorless. “Always defending your little protégé, aren’t you, Wolf? Makes a man wonder.”

“I’m not a rat.” Bobby’s voice cracked as he looked around at the men he considered brothers. “I would never tell anyone what we’re doing?—”

“Grab him,” Viper ordered.

Before Logan could react, two members seized Bobby’s arms. Training and instinct screamed at Logan to draw the concealed weapon holstered at his back.

But he was outnumbered fifteen to one.

Direct intervention would mean death for them both.

He only had seconds to decide what to do.

For now, Logan needed to comply. It was the best choice given this situation.

“Let’s take a ride.” Viper nodded toward the door. “See if the truth comes out with some fresh air.”

As they dragged Bobby toward the exit, Logan followed, his mind racing through options, each worse than the last.

They were headed toward the vans—standard Brotherhood procedure for “interrogations” that left no survivors.

His head pounded harder.

“Viper,” Logan called out. “Let me talk to Buzzy first. He’ll tell me the truth.”

The gang leader paused, considering. “You’ve got a soft spot for this kid, Wolf. That’s been clear from day one.”

“I vouched for him when he patched in,” Logan acknowledged. “So his screwup reflects on me. Let me handle it.”

A tense moment passed before Viper nodded. “You ride with him then. Knox drives.”

It wasn’t ideal, but the new setup bought time.

Logan climbed into the back of the van beside a terrified Bobby while Razor and Knox took the front seats. Viper and a couple of other members took a second van.

“I didn’t do anything,” Bobby whispered, his voice cracking as the van pulled away from the warehouse. “You’ve gotta believe me, Wolf.”

“I know you didn’t.” Logan began calculating distances, response times, extraction points.

His handler was twenty minutes away at best. Too long. Logan couldn’t contact him anyway. Doing so right now would be too risky.

That meant he had no backup.

It was only Logan against the Brotherhood.

He was strong and trained, but there was no way he could take on all these guys himself.

The van wound through Denver’s industrial district toward the South Platte River. Logan knew the destination—the Brotherhood had used Alameda Bridge before. It was remote enough at night with deep waters below.

“I should’ve listened to her,” Bobby’s voice was barely audible over the engine. “Morgan kept saying I was better thanthis life. If anything happens to me, you’ve got to watch out for her. Promise me. Please.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you.”