Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
I lifted my eyes from the screen and let them settle on him. “Another word, and I brick your phone.”
His grin appeared slowly, completely unapologetic. “Worth it.”
Stryker settled his palm flat against the desk, and the faint trace of amusement in his eyes disappeared. “Breach and Trigger have your woman covered. Finish the report.”
The wording hit with a dark satisfaction I didn’t bother denying. No one around the table reacted beyond a few knowing glances, but the claim settled cleanly into the space where three weeks of failed logic had been wasting my time. Bex was my woman, whether she knew it yet or not, and the tracker beneath her vehicle had only ended my patience for pretending otherwise.
“I recovered four older incidents with similar signatures over the previous eighteen months,” I continued, bringing the summaries onto the main display, then explaining the details of each one.
Stryker came around the desk and braced both hands on the back of an empty chair without sitting. “Four other incidents?”
“The ones I can confirm from the surviving data. Don’t have details,” I added, refusing to turn limited evidence into false certainty. “Could be four victims. Could be more if other calls were manipulated cleanly enough that the surrounding systems didn’t preserve a trace. We also don’t know how often they sold victim information, schedules, or patrol gaps without manipulating dispatch.”
The last hint of humor vanished from every face around the table.
“Whoever sold Nina’s address put an abusive bastard outside her bedroom window and sent the nearest deputy miles away,” Bishop muttered, disgust roughening his voice. “That wasn’t data theft. They sold him time alone with her.”
“Exactly.” Stryker looked at each man before continuing, his expression hardening as the decision was made. “This is Black Crowns business. Somebody’s using official systems to help predators reach people, deciding which victims get help and which ones are left alone long enough to be hurt or worse.”
No brother asked whether the club’s interests were directly threatened or if Black Castle had a paying contract. Our code had never required paperwork before we moved against people who preyed on others they considered easy to control. Bex made it personal for me, but the Black Crowns would have hunted this operation if she had never answered Nina’s call.
Stryker started barking out assignments with the clipped certainty that had taken men through missions far uglier than this one.
Judge folded his arms and looked toward me. “Anything you obtain without lawful access comes to me before the sheriff hears a fucking word about it.”
“I know how evidence works, jackass,” I grunted.
I’d spent years separating actionable intelligence from admissible evidence, and Bex becoming the target didn’t erase the distinction, but it made waiting for legal process feel like choosing procedure over her safety. If I crossed that line, though, Judge would keep the contamination away from Raines’s case while the club acted on whatever I found.
“Cipher stays on the digital trail,” Stryker finished, studying me long enough to make clear that the final instruction carried more than an assignment. “You find the people behind this. Don’t get distracted by a need for vengeance.”
“I won’t.” The answer came easily because uncontrolled rage made people sloppy. I wanted every person involved stripped of money, access, allies, and the illusion that their screens could protect them before the brothers ever reached their doors.
Church ended as soon as every man understood his assignment. Chairs moved back, phones came out, and the office filled with low voices as the brothers began activating contacts before they reached the hallway.
I closed the laptop and stood, but Stryker’s voice stopped me before I reached the door. “You moving her tomorrow?”
“First thing.”
His gaze held mine, taking in the certainty beneath the answer without wasting time asking whether I intended to keep my distance after she entered my house. “Good.”
The ride back took less time than the trip to the compound, but it still didn’t feel fast enough.
When I entered the house, Bex sat on the living room couch with one bare foot tucked beneath her and a blanket draped across her lap. Relief brightened her hazel-green eyes so quickly when she saw me that the reaction reached deeper than the lust that always seemed to be grinding through my body when she was near.
I wanted to cross the room, lift her from the couch, and take her upstairs to a bedroom. But Bex’s father stood beside the fireplace with the expression of a man who had already spent too much of his evening watching me touch his daughter.
“Everything okay?” Bex asked, unfolding herself from the couch as I approached.
“This shit’s bad enough that the club’s involved.” I wrapped one hand around her waist when she came within reach, checking the windows beyond her before letting my attention settle fully on her face.