Page 12 of King’s Reckoning (Blind Jacks MC #5)

Smoke curled from Rowan's gun barrel as she surveyed the aftermath around her. The ancient tunnel bore fresh marks from bullet holes now pockmarking walls that had stood untouched for decades. Two of Blackwood's security team lay wounded but alive. But it wasn't over. It was never over.

More would come. They'd track their fallen men, follow the trail through the tunnels. Their radios would give away Rowan's position, and that made her both a target and diversion.

Her earpiece crackled and Reed's voice cut through the ringing in her ears.

"Clear on the west exit. No pursuit. You need to move now."

"Negative,"

Rowan replied, checking her ammunition.

"They'll just follow me to your position. I need to—"

"To what?"

King's voice interrupted.

"Die protecting us like your mother did? Not happening. Get to the rendezvous point. That's an order."

"Since when do prospects take orders from a sergeant they lied to?"

The new voice made Rowan spin, weapon raised. Darkness emerged from a side tunnel, his expression unreadable in the dim emergency lighting. His cut bore fresh dust marks, but his hands were steady on his shotgun.

"The club voted,"

he said quietly.

"Emergency meeting while you were playing decoy. They want answers."

Rowan's heart clenched. This was what she'd feared—the moment when her carefully constructed infiltration fell apart. When the trust she'd built with these men shattered under the weight of her lies.

"Smart prospects show up when the club calls,"

Darkness added.

"Especially ones with sergeant's blood."

His tone held something Rowan couldn't quite read—not quite accusation, but not acceptance either. She studied his face, remembering how he'd watched her in the garage that first day. How he'd recognized Elena's techniques in the way she handled tools.

"You knew,"

she realized suddenly.

"You knew who I was from the start."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"Worked with your mother back in the day. Kind of hard to miss the resemblance. The way you move, the way you think... Pure Elena. But that determination?"

He snorted softly.

"That's all King."

More heavy footsteps approached their position. Rowan raised her weapon, but Darkness waved her down.

"Friendlies,"

he said.

"What's left of our perimeter teams falling back to secondary positions. Blackwood's team lost a few men in that first push. They'll regroup before trying again."

"Giving us time to handle club business,"

another voice added. Ace emerged from the shadows, his usually immaculate appearance marred by dust and sweat. Barbara followed, clutching her laptop case protectively.

"I've backed up everything,"

she said before Rowan could ask.

"Flash's journal, Elena's research, all the data from the artifacts. Even if they catch us, they won't be able to access it immediately."

"They won't catch us,"

Darkness said firmly.

"But the club needs to understand what we're really dealing with here. What Elena was protecting. What you're asking us to stand against."

Rowan felt the weight of their expectations settle onto her shoulders. This was the moment her mother had prepared her for. Not just the fighting and subterfuge, but the leadership. The ability to make hard choices.

"Then let's do this properly,"

she said, straightening her spine.

"Full disclosure. Everything I know about the historical evidence, about the archaeological discoveries, about why Mom ran."

She met Darkness's eyes.

"About why I came back."

He studied her for a long moment, then nodded.

"Chapel's compromised. We're meeting at the old bootlegger's house. Brothers are gathering now."

Rowan's phone buzzed with a text from Reed. Secured the artifacts. King's waiting. Whatever you decide, I've got your back.

The message steadied her, gave her strength. Whatever came next, she wasn't alone.

"Lead the way,"

she told Darkness.

The bootlegger's house was really more of a compound—a sprawling property dating back to Prohibition, when the club's ancestors had run illegal liquor through the territory. Underground rooms that had once housed distilling operations now served as emergency meeting spaces. Brothers filled the largest chamber, their cuts bearing fresh battle damage but their expressions alert.

King stood at the head of the long table, the wooden boxes arranged before him. Reed flanked him on one side, his dark eyes finding Rowan's as she entered. The warmth in his gaze made her breath catch despite everything else happening.

"Brothers."

King's voice filled the space.

"We face an unprecedented situation. Our territory is under attack. Our secrets exposed. And the truth about my daughter can no longer be denied."

Murmurs rippled through the assembled men. Rowan felt their eyes on her—judging, evaluating, remembering every interaction since she'd arrived.

"But there's more,"

King continued.

"Elena didn't just hide our daughter away. She didn't just train her to fight, to survive. She prepared her for this moment. For the protection of historical evidence that has been buried beneath our feet for generations."

He gestured to the artifacts, their craftsmanship evident even in the dim light.

"These boxes contain proof of something older than our club. Older than this territory. Something that powerful interests have been searching for decades."

"Something tied to your family,"

someone called out. "To hers."

"Yes."

King's voice held no apology.

"Elena saw it coming. Saw what would happen when others discovered what was hidden here. She gave her life protecting these artifacts, protecting our daughter until she was ready."

"Ready for what?"

another brother demanded.

"For this."

Rowan stepped forward, opening one of the wooden boxes to reveal ancient maps and documents.

"Elena wasn't just protecting club secrets. She was protecting historical evidence that could rewrite what we know about this region's past. Evidence that powerful interests—governments, corporations—would rather keep buried."

"The founding families,"

Darkness added.

"The ones Flash was researching before he died."

"Exactly."

Rowan pulled out her mother's journal, its pages dense with careful notes.

"Mom found proof that the original MC chapters weren't formed by accident. They were created to protect specific territories where these historical artifacts were hidden. To keep outsiders from discovering what was really buried here."

"And now they have discovered it,"

Barbara said.

"Blackwood and his employers, whoever they really are. They've been searching for generations, tracking historical records, studying these sites. The Devils are just their latest hired muscle."

"But why you?"

someone asked.

"Why did Elena choose King? Why did she spend years preparing you for this?"

Rowan met her father's eyes, saw the same question there.

"Because she trusted us to do what's right. These boxes don't just contain historical records. They're evidence of something that could change our understanding of who first settled this land, and that knowledge threatens powerful interests who've built their fortunes on the accepted history."

"Something worth killing for,"

Reed added quietly. His hand brushed Rowan's back, steadying her.

"Worth dying to protect."

Silence fell as the brothers absorbed this. Rowan could almost see them processing everything—the confrontation at the church, the attack on the clubhouse, the hidden tunnels they'd discovered beneath their territory.

Finally, an older member spoke—one of the few who had known Elena personally.

"So what now? Blackwood's security team is involved. The Devils are coming in hot. And we've got historical evidence we don't fully understand hidden under our feet."

"Now we do what we were founded to do,"

King said firmly.

"We protect our territory. Our secrets. Our legacy."

His eyes found Rowan's.

"All of it."

"And her?"

someone asked.

"She lied to us. Infiltrated the club under false pretenses."

"She came home,"

Darkness corrected.

"To the club that should have protected her and Elena in the first place. To finish what her mother started."

More murmurs, but different now. Rowan recognized the shift in tone, from accusation to consideration. These men respected strength, respected loyalty to family and club. And despite her deception, she'd proven both.

"There's something else,"

Barbara said suddenly. She had been studying notes in Flash's journal.

"These historical artifacts Elena documented? They're part of something larger. Whatever's buried in these tunnels, whatever evidence she and Flash discovered...it's more significant than we realized. And Blackwood knows it."

"He knows you have the key to understanding it,"

Reed said softly, his presence reassuring at Rowan's side.

She nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility her mother had prepared her for. The artifacts weren't just historical curiosities. They were pieces of a larger truth—one Elena had died to protect.

"So we put it to a vote,"

King announced.

"Here and now. We can try to outrace whatever's coming for us. Or we can stand and fight. Protect what our ancestors died defending. What Elena died protecting."

His eyes swept the room.

"What say you, brothers?"

One by one, they stood. Even those who had opposed Rowan's presence, who had questioned her motives. They were MC members first and foremost. This was their territory. Their legacy.

Their fight.

"Blood right,"

Darkness said into the silence.

"That's what Elena called it. The right of family to protect these truths."

He looked at Rowan.

"Time to earn that right, prospect."

Rowan felt Reed squeeze her hand, felt King's pride radiating across the room. This wasn't how she'd planned to reveal her identity, but maybe her mother had known better. Maybe this was exactly how it needed to happen.

"Blood right,"

she agreed softly. Then louder.

"Blood right!"

The call was taken up around the room, brothers united in purpose if not yet in full trust. They had chosen to stand and fight, to protect their territory and its ancient secrets.

Now they just had to survive what came next.

As the meeting dispersed, brothers breaking into tactical teams, Reed pulled Rowan aside. His dark eyes searched her face, concern evident in the set of his jaw.

"You okay?"

he asked quietly.

She considered the question. Truly considered it. She'd come here looking for answers about her father, about her mother's death. Instead, she'd found a cause worth fighting for, a family worth protecting, and something she hadn't expected to find at all: a man who saw beyond her carefully constructed walls.

"Ask me again tomorrow,"

she said, the familiar exchange bringing a small smile to his lips.

"Tomorrow,"

he agreed, his hand finding hers in the shadows.

"And every day after that, for as long as you'll have me."

The promise in those words warmed something deep inside her. Regardless of what happened next, what truths they uncovered beneath the club's territory, she wasn't alone anymore. She had her father, she had the club, and she had Reed.

Elena would have approved.