Page 66 of Malachi (Outsiders MC #1)

I nod, but the weight in my chest tightens. Leo didn’t just die. He took a bullet that wasn’t meant for him. Something about the way Arden vanished with him—too fast, too clean—doesn’t sit right. The truth is, I’m not sure he’s gone. Not really.

But Arden’s here now. At Victor’s house. Calm, quiet, too composed for a man who supposedly carried a dead body out of a collapsing building. He’s not grieving. He’s watching. Waiting. And I clock it. File it. Because that kind of silence doesn’t come without a secret.

“Thank you for showing up,” Victor says. He doesn’t say more. He doesn’t have to. We’re brothers. Sometimes silence speaks loud enough.

I step toward the back door, needing air. Nash follows without a word. When we’re out of earshot, he looks at me; silent, steady.

“We keeping that between us?” he asks.

I nod once. “For now.”

He nods once, not needing more. He saw the blood.

The way Donovan’s pulse refused to die. He saw Candace.

Saw what she looked like after they came for her at the house, wearing bruises that hadn’t even finished blooming, war paint made of survival.

Knows we can’t drop that weight on Victor. Not tonight.

Instead, he leans against the railing, arms crossed, voice low. “You think he’ll survive long enough to talk?”

“If Sloane has anything to do with it, yeah.” I grind the heel of my boot into the concrete. “She’s doing everything she can. Candace is watching him like a hawk.” Like she needs to make sure he doesn’t disappear before he gives her the names. Before someone else tries to silence him.

Nash nods again. “You trust Arden?”

“No.”

“Thought so.”

We fall into silence again. But it’s not heavy. It’s focused. Both of us waiting for something to rise out of the dark and show its teeth.

“We loop Victor in when we’ve got more,” I say finally. “He’s been through enough. No sense handing him another ghost unless we know it has teeth.”

“Copy that.” Nash pushes off the railing. “Let me know when it’s time.”

Inside, laughter drifts faint from the kitchen. It doesn’t match the tension rolling in my gut. Alice Brighton. The name hasn’t stopped echoing since the day Chuck confessed she was Candace’s mother. She’s here. In town. Working the strings.

My chest tightens. A hundred memories flash at once—her face, her fire, the way she said “I didn’t know where else to go.” Every instinct I have is screaming that we’re not just chasing ghosts anymore. We’re walking into the belly of something ancient. Something dark.

The queen always moves first.

I light a cigarette, barely register the taste as I inhale. It burns hotter than usual since my nerves are frayed straight down to the bone. My thoughts drift, unwilling. Cornelius. The night he died. The siblings he died protecting. My siblings.

I still don’t know where they are. But Donovan does. He knew that night. If Alice was part of it, then this goes deeper than I thought. Than any of us thought.

There’s a sound behind me. Soft footsteps, then a voice that doesn’t belong in shadows. Victor’s.

“I don’t even know how you knew to come there,” he says.

“We heard the bomb,” I say simply. “James called me before the line got cut. I sent out a text and told everyone to meet me there.”

Victor nods, then adds, “Is James alright?”

“Broke his ankle, but he’s fine,” I answer.

He nods again and turns back to the others. The room shifts as the attention falls to me. I speak. Steady. Even.

“I’ve heard of Donovan and the things he did.

I didn’t care so much about the weapons he moved or even the money laundering until it affected one of my own.

” I glance at Victor, letting the implication land.

“Then he was on my radar. That’s when I found out about the human trafficking.

I wasn’t aware of him doing that, but when he disappeared for a while, he became a back burner problem for us. ”

I gesture to East and Nash beside me.

“I saw him one day, and that put him back on my radar. So, we kept an eye on him. Found out one of our own was working with him. I interrogated the guy and found out Donovan was connected to a woman named Alice Brighton. The girls he picked up off the street? He sold them. To auctions. Ones she ran.”

I pause for half a beat, the weight of her name sinking deeper. It churns in my gut, mixing with smoke and blood and memory. My jaw tightens, and I stay quiet, but the pressure in my chest builds. Candace’s mother. Selling girls while her own daughter scraped pennies under a leaking roof.

Because I know Donovan knows more. About Cornelius. About that night. About my brother and sister. The truth burns under my skin. I need it. Need him alive long enough to speak it. When he does, when the lies fall away? I’ll be ready to carve the truth out of him, no matter what it takes.

A gasp breaks the silence. Olivia. “That’s who took me,” she says.

Her voice cuts through me, sharp as a blade. Alice. I feel it; a kick in the chest. Something inside me cracks wide open. Olivia. Candace. Cornelius. My siblings. It’s all connected. And it’s all coming back to her. Victor stiffens beside her, jaw clenched.

“When I was searching for you,” Victor says to Olivia, his voice tight, “one of the EMTs said she was supposed to be taking care of you. But she drove off. Disappeared.”

Olivia’s voice is quiet. “The doctor who stitched my arm. His name was Dr. Chamberland. I recognized him.”

Victor leans in, whispers something. Olivia nods. As Olivia settles into her food, I catch Victor’s eye and nod toward the hallway.

“Need a minute,” I murmur.

We step away from the others, toward the study. Just enough space to talk without being overheard.

“Where was she taken?” I ask.

Victor rubs a hand over his face. “She mentioned a warehouse. Near the riverfront. Where the shipping containers come in. Said it smelled like salt and rust. Said she could hear metal clanging every time someone moved.”

I nod. I know the area. Forgotten buildings. Rotting docks. Easy place to hide something. Or someone.

“We’ll check it out,” I tell him. “Might be something left behind.”

Victor studies me. “You think she’s still here?”

I don’t answer. But I am going to find out. When I do, I won’t let her slip into shadow again.