Page 15

Anchor

The lake was quiet in that way it only got when the wind died down and the tourists were gone. Just the lapping of water against the rocky shore and the occasional creak of the old dock. I needed the quiet. I needed the space. That’s why I’d been circling the island’s perimeter for the past hour, boots crunching on gravel and cracked leaves, and a cigarette burning low in my hand.

The haunted house was a couple of hours from opening. The paint crew was making progress until then.

I rounded the far north bend, near where the land curved out into a peninsula. It was overgrown out here. The kind of place even the club didn’t mess with often. We had some junk storage and a few rusting barrels tucked out of sight. That’s when I saw it.

Just peeking out from a patch of loose earth near the base of an old tree. A tattered scrap of black cloth. I squatted down, and my gut went tight.

It was a Kings of Anarchy patch. Not a full rocker, just the crest. Faded skull. Twisted crown. No name. No chapter. But I knew the make. Knew the thread.

This wasn’t a new one.

My stomach dropped. There were only two reasons a patch like that would surface: someone was trying to send a message… or someone wanted us to think they were.

I didn’t bother finishing the loop. I double-timed it back to the clubhouse and called Skull, Prime, and Push for Church.

Skull was first to show, as always. Prime and Push trailed in after, both looking grim. They all knew this meeting wasn’t about to be good before anyone said a word.

I dropped the patch on the center table and leaned back in my chair.

“Found it on the north side of the island. Right by the split trees.”

Prime picked it up carefully, like it might burn him.

“That’s not one of ours anymore.”

“No name on it,”

Skull muttered.

“Just the crest. Clean. Worn.”

“From Razor’s time,”

I said.

“Maybe longer.”

Push leaned forward, elbows on the table.

“You think someone’s sending us a message?”

“I think this, the bodies, the carvings… it’s not random.”

Silence fell.

It was Prime who finally said what we were all thinking. “Venom.”

Skull rubbed a hand over his face.

“That crazy bastard’s been off-grid since we heard he was in Tennessee four years ago. You really think he’s behind this?”

“He’s the only one with enough hate in him to pull something like this,”

I muttered.

“And he knows this island.”

Push narrowed his eyes.

“Why now, and how the hell does he even get out here without tripping the bridge alarm?”

“Inside help,”

Prime said softly.

Those two words tightened my chest. I hated it. Hated even thinking it. But we couldn’t ignore the possibility.

Skull slammed his fist down.

“We don’t have a fucking rat.”

“No?”

Prime lifted a brow.

“Then explain the dead bodies, the initials, the planted patch, and we have no fucking clue who is doing this.”

I didn’t want to believe it either, but I’d been president long enough to know loyalty only went so far. Everyone had a price. Or a secret.

“I’m not pointing fingers,”

I said.

“But we keep our eyes open. From this point on, we treat everything like it’s compromised.”

Push nodded. “Agreed.”

“Everyone keep radio contact tight. Pairs only. No one out alone,” I said.

“What about the girl?”

Skull asked.

I looked up sharply.

“She’s seen too much,” he added.

“I’ll handle Pearl.”

They all looked at me, questions in their eyes, but no one said a word. I banged the gavel once.

“Church dismissed.”

I got up, pissed about the fact one of my guys could be a rat, and headed out the door. I didn’t stop until I was looking at the back of the haunted house.

The paint crew had set up along the back wall of the haunted house, tarps flung down, music playing softly from someone’s phone. It was late afternoon, but the cloud cover made it feel later, heavier. Shadows clung to the base of the trees, and the lake didn’t glimmer the way it usually did.

Pearl was crouched beside a wall, brush in hand, carefully outlining some chipped bricks with black paint.

Jake noticed me first with a nod and straightened.

Brian was next to Pearl and noticed her sigh heavily.

“Pearl, you okay? You look like you haven’t slept.”

Her hair was tied up messily, a smudge of paint across her cheek, and she looked tired. Not worn down exactly, just like someone who’d carried too much in too short a time.

I was already moving before she could answer.

“She’s good,”

I said as I stepped between them.

My voice came out a little too sharp, and Brian raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, man. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

Pearl stood slowly, brush still in hand, and gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher.

“What’s up?”

“Walk with me?”

I asked.

“Just for a minute.”

She hesitated, then handed her brush off to Brian without a word. I led her around the side of the haunted house, down the narrow gravel path that curved into the woods. It wasn’t far, but it was enough. We were out of sight. Out of earshot.

She shoved her hands into her sweatshirt pocket and stared down the path.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a casual walk.”

“No,”

I admitted.

“But I needed a minute. Away from the guys.”

She glanced sideways at me.

“You okay?”

I barked out a humorless laugh.

“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”

“Last night was… intense,”

she said softly.

“I still don’t think I’ve processed any of it.”

“Yeah.”

I rubbed a hand down my jaw.

“Look, I wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?”

“For not flipping out. For not running and screaming.”

“I almost did,”

she admitted.

“But you didn’t let me.”

That earned a small smile out of me. “Fair.”

We stood in silence for a beat before she asked.

“Why did you come looking for me last night?”

I didn’t answer right away. Because saying I couldn’t help myself didn’t seem like the right thing. Not when I was supposed to be keeping a line between us.

Instead, I said.

“Because I saw you leave the cabin. And I couldn’t see you on the cameras after that. We don’t have coverage by the lake. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

She nodded, eyes on the forest floor.

I let the silence sit a moment longer, then leaned in slightly.

“I found something this morning. Buried near the north edge.”

I shouldn’t be telling her any of this. She already knew too much. She was an outsider, after all, but something made me want to tell her any and everything.

“What was it?”

she asked.

“One of our old patches. Just the club crest. No name.”

Her brow furrowed.

“That’s bad?”

“It wasn’t there before. And it’s from at least fifteen years ago. Someone’s playing games.”

She went quiet.

I looked around, lowered my voice.

“Pearl, someone’s trying to drag the club into something dark. The bodies, the initials carved into them, now this patch showing up, none of it’s random. And I think you’re in the middle of it now.”

She swallowed hard.

“I don’t want to be.”

“I know. But you are. And I’m gonna do everything I can to keep you out of it from here on.”

She crossed her arms, more to protect herself than anything else.

“Do you think someone’s trying to frame you?”

I met her eyes.

“I don’t know. But I do know we can’t trust the wrong people with this.”

She looked down at the trail again, then up at me.

“So what happens now?”

“You go back to your crew. You finish what you were hired to do. And you let me and the club handle the rest. I don’t want this to worry you.”

Pearl didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyway.

I didn’t want to leave her. Not with that worry on her face. But I also couldn’t keep her too close, not with things heating up.

As she turned to head back to the haunted house, I let my eyes linger on her. There was something about her I hadn’t been able to put into words yet. Something that made it impossible to look away.

I knew I was dragging her into something dark.

And I wasn’t sure I could stop it.