Page 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THE MAP LAY sprawled across the table, routes marked with lines, notes scrawled in Devil’s precise handwriting. Everyone was in their usual spots. Bolt leaning forward, elbows on the table; Chain lounging like this was a poker game; Mystic in the corner, his simmering intensity coiled tight like a spring. Every brother here had one thing on their mind: the war brewing with Dragon Fire.

I felt her before I saw her. That quiet, electric shift in the air. When I looked up, there she was—Lucy, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, chin tilted like she was daring me to call her out. That fire in her eyes struck a nerve, irritation flaring hot in my gut.

Now wasn’t the damn time for this.

She wasn’t supposed to be here, and she damn well knew it. But there she stood, bold as hell, like she had every right to be in the middle of this.

My blood pressure spiked.

I shoved back from the table and moved toward her, muscles tensed with frustration. She was forcing my hand, making me handle her like this, and I hated it.

“I told you to stay out of this,” I said, voice low and controlled—just enough to keep Devil from losing his shit.

“And I told you I’m not a bystander,” she shot back, stepping into the room like she belonged. Her eyes locked onto mine, unwavering. “I’ve dealt with men like them for years. I can help.”

Chain smirked, leaning back farther, lacing his hands behind his head. “She’s got a point. And honestly, I like havin’ her around. She’s got more guts than half the guys here.”

“Shut up, Chain,” Thunder muttered, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

Then Devil spoke, his tone slicing through the room, cold and final. “You can sit in, but if you’re in this room, you listen. No talking out of turn. You’re in our house now. That means our rules. Clear?”

Lucy’s jaw tightened, but she nodded, meeting his gaze in a silent battle of wills.

What the fuck? I ran a hand through my hair, frustration burning through me. This wasn’t how I expected Devil to handle her crashing a club meeting. Outsiders didn’t belong in this room. Club business was sacred—off-limits to anyone not wearing a patch. Devil had an angle, and that worried me more than anything.

“Dragon Fire’s trying to bait us,” Devil said, his gaze still locked on Lucy. “What do you know about their inner workings?”

“They don’t have big numbers—maybe fifty guys tops—and they’re not loyal. They talk shit about each other constantly,” she said, stepping farther into the room, pulling out a chair like it was just another Tuesday. “They’ve moved locations twice since I started running inside their circle.”

“Where was their last spot?” Devil asked.

“A run-down warehouse just outside Tybee Island,” she answered smoothly. “Drago’s paranoid. He doesn’t talk club business around just anyone. Zeynep would know more, he kept her close, always.”

Mystic leaned forward, his intensity sharpening. “What else do you know?”

Lucy hesitated for half a beat, then dropped the bomb. “They’re working with the cartel.”

The room went dead silent. Bolt straightened in his chair. Chain stopped tapping the table. Even Devil, who never flinched, stiffened.

“How the fuck do you know that?” The hard set of Devil's jaw and the sharp glint in his eyes made it clear, he wasn’t messing around.

“My guy found the connection on the dark web,” she said, her voice laced with venom. “Dragon Fire’s moving product for them. They’re making a hell of a lot of money off it.”

“Holy fuck,” I muttered.

“No shit,” Devil said, leaning back, arms crossing over his chest. “At least now we know what we’re up against.”

“There’ve been rumblings about a cartel on our coast for a year,” Chain added, fingers resuming their restless drumming. “But no one’s been able to pin it down.”

“Won’t stop us from takin’ them out,” Mystic growled, his expression dark.

I clenched my fists under the table. The plan just got a whole lot more complicated, and with Lucy in the mix, it felt like a powder keg ready to blow.

“Drago mentioned a man named Fang in connection with you,” Devil said suddenly, his gaze narrowing on Lucy. “What did he mean?”

She straightened in her chair, arms crossing. “Fang’s smart. Calculated. He likes leverage, and he doesn’t give a damn how he gets it. If he’s focused on me, it’s not just to piss you off, it’s because he thinks I’m useful.”

“Were you sleeping with him?” Devil asked bluntly.

“Hell no,” she snapped. But something flickered in her eyes—guilt? Sadness? I couldn’t tell, but I damn sure noticed. “Fang’s a vile piece of shit, and I hope the devil himself is waiting to drag him down.”

What’s she not telling us? I thought grimly watching her closely.

“Can you think of anything else?” Devil pressed.

“Nothing that helps your club,” she said, leaning back and getting comfortable.

Devil stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “Enough for now. Take a break.”

Lucy shot to her feet, bristling. “You promised to tell me what you’re planning.”

“No,” he smirked. “I said you could sit in on this meeting.” He gave a casual shrug. “Meeting’s over.”

“You tricked me!” she hissed.

“Don’t push me, Lucy,” Devil warned, his eyes flicking to me. “Set her straight.”

“You have some—” she started.

I exhaled hard, cutting her off with a glare. “Lucy, shut the hell up and stop arguing.”

The others filed out, grinning like they’d just watched the best show in town. Lucy stayed behind, her gaze burning into me.

“You can’t stop me,” she said quietly, stepping closer. Her voice had lost its sharp edge, but the determination behind it was stronger than ever.

I shook my head, trying to keep my temper in check. “You’re not part of this, Lucy. You don’t understand how dangerous this is.”

Her lips pressed into a tight line. She took another step forward, closing the space between us. “Dangerous? Spinner, you think I don’t know that? They’ve got women with them—women I need to get out. Your club is only worried about your fucking territory.”

My temper snapped. “That’s not true,” I bit out. “None of the men at this table would ever leave a mistreated woman behind.”

She tilted her head, her expression softening just enough to cut through my anger. “Maybe not. But I’m not going to sit back and do nothing.”

“You being involved puts a target on your back.” The weight of how I felt written all over my face. “And I can’t…” My jaw tightened as the words snagged in my throat, my gaze dropping to the map like it held some kind of answer to this mess.

“You can’t what?” she asked, softer now, coaxing the words out of me.

I turned back to her, frustration mixing with something I didn’t want to name. “I can’t let you get hurt,” I admitted, raw and too damn honest.

The air between us thickened with everything we weren’t saying. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t back down. And that only made it worse.

“I can take care of myself.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “I know you think that, Lucy, but dammit, the cartel isn’t a joke.”

“Trust me, I know,” she shot back, frustration flickering in her eyes. “But I can’t sit this out.”

I didn’t answer. The weight of it all settled over me like a lead blanket. The others were waiting. The plan wasn’t going to hold for my personal shit.

I folded the map, tucking it under my arm. “Let’s go.”

She didn’t say anything, just followed. But as we walked, her words stuck with me.

Damn her for making it so damn hard to protect her stubborn ass.

“DAMN IT,” I muttered under my breath, pushing open the door and stepping into the thick, humid air. The slap of the screen door sounded behind me as I headed for the worn path leading to the old dock. My shoes crunched against the dirt, the sound barely cutting through the dull roar of my thoughts.

Devil and men like him pissed me off. They thought that just because I was a woman, I couldn’t contribute, couldn’t hold my own in their world. They never came right out and said it, but it was in their actions, the patronizing tone in their voices. I wasn’t blind, and I damn sure wasn’t stupid.

No, I didn’t have the strength to take on men like the Dragon Fire trash.

I knew that much.

A hard lesson learned.

Flashes of that day flickered at the edges of my mind, a broken reel of film threatening to play. I clenched my fists and shoved it back. I didn’t want to see those images in my head.

Not now. Not ever.

But I knew those bastards. I knew how they thought, the twisted games they played, the depths they’d sink to. I’d spent a year embedded in their cesspool of a club, earning their trust, gathering intel. Every bruise, every sleepless night, every moment of holding my cover—it had all been for one purpose: stopping them before they moved their latest shipment. And now, it felt like it was all slipping through my fingers.

The dock came into view, weathered and warped from years of salt air and storms. It stretched over the still water, a ghostly silhouette against the fading light. I walked to the edge and leaned against a wooden post, the rough grain biting into my palms. The water rippled faintly, catching the streaks of orange and pink from the sunset.

There was something about this place, quiet, peaceful, removed from the chaos, that settled my mind when everything else felt too damn loud.

I exhaled slowly, eyes locked on the water. This whole property still caught me off guard. The towering trees swayed in the breeze, the air smelled fresh, untouched. It didn’t seem like the kind of place a biker clubhouse should exist. It was beautiful, serene even, and completely at odds with the lives these men led.

Dragon Fire was the opposite. They were always on the move, scuttling from one dive to the next like cockroaches ducking for cover. Their hideouts were filthy, reeking of sweat, smoke, and desperation. I’d seen things in my time with them that would make most people sick to their stomachs. And at the top of that rotting pile? Drago and Fang. They’d do anything—or hurt anyone—for a paycheck.

Devil thought he was better than them. Thought his club was different. Maybe he was right, but that didn’t mean I trusted him. He got one over on me today, but Lucy Luck doesn’t fall for the same trick twice.

The sound of voices pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced over my shoulder. Two figures emerged from the treeline—Rune and Amy. They walked side by side, heads close together, lost in quiet conversation. They didn’t even notice me standing on the dock.

I watched them for a moment, studying the way Rune looked at her, his expression softer than I’d ever seen it. Amy laughed, her hand brushing his arm. It was easy, natural.

Something real. Something solid.

Rune wasn’t like the others. He didn’t talk much, didn’t throw his weight around. He observed more than he spoke, but there was an edge to him, something that said he could handle himself if it came down to it. I’d passed by his cabin once, tucked behind the clubhouse, barely noticeable. What had stood out was the garden—lush, carefully tended, a mix of flowers and vegetables.

A hardened biker who worked with his hands. A man who cared for living things. That alone set him apart.

I turned my gaze back to the water, my mind circling back to the club. These men were different, sure, but they weren’t boy scouts. My research told me that much. They rode the edge of the law, sometimes crossed it, but never in ways that hurt the innocent. From everything Oliver and I had dug up, they stuck to a code—one that, if I was being honest, I could respect.

The thought of Oliver sent a pang through me. I needed to check in before he started to worry. We couldn’t afford that since Oliver would start looking for me and that might get him killed.

I turned and started back down the dock, my shoes thudding against the old planks. Two burner phones were stashed around the clubhouse, hidden where no one would think to look. I wasn’t stupid—I knew they’d search my car, so I’d taken precautions.

Damn glad I had.

Keeping me here might’ve been partly for my protection, but it was also a clear sign they didn’t trust me. That much had been obvious today. And if there was one thing I’d learned the hard way, it was this—

Never fully trust anyone.

Always have a backup plan. Always be ready to run.

This girl doesn’t get caught flat-footed.

Not anymore.