LOGINThe clubhouse sat at the edge of town behind a chain-link fence and a row of motorcycles lined up like soldiers at attention, and Silas walked through the front door without knocking, the way he'd walked through it a thousand times before. Tonight it felt different. Tonight the air inside felt charged, heavier than usual, like the building itself knew something was coming before he did.
Wade was waiting for him in the back office, alone, exactly like the message said. He sat behind their father's old desk with a bottle of whiskey open in front of him, untouched, which told Silas more than anything Wade could have said out loud. Wade didn't drink before conversations he wanted to have. He drank before conversations he'd been avoiding for years. "Shut the door," Wade said. Silas shut the door. "You texted me about Dad and Ellery." Silas stayed standing, arms crossed, every muscle in his body braced for something he couldn't name yet. "So talk. What happened fifteen years ago?" Wade didn't answer right away. He turned the whiskey bottle a quarter turn on the desk, watching it like it might give him the right words if he stared long enough. "You remember the year Dad got sick. Before the cancer took him. You remember how fast everything happened." "I remember I was nineteen and burying my father." Silas's jaw tightened. "I remember it because it's the same year I ended things with Reagan. Don't make me guess where this is going, Wade. Just say it." Wade looked up at him, and for the first time in years, Silas saw something in his older brother's face that looked almost like guilt. "Marcus Ellery came to Dad about six months before you and Reagan broke up," Wade said slowly. "He wanted the northern territory. Dad said no. Ellery didn't take no well, so he found another way to get what he wanted." "What way." "He found out about you and Reagan." Wade's voice stayed level, careful, the voice of a man choosing every word like it might detonate if he got one wrong. "Found out how serious it was. And he made Dad an offer. Back off the northern territory, or he'd make sure something happened to Reagan's family. Her mother's shop. Her whole life. He wasn't bluffing, Silas. He'd already done it to two other families that crossed him, and Dad knew it." The floor seemed to tilt under Silas's feet in a way it hadn't since the night of the fire. "So Dad told me to break it off with her." "Dad told you it was your choice to make." Wade's eyes didn't leave his. "But he made sure you understood what would happen to her if you didn't make it. He never told you why. He just let you think you were being noble. Protecting her by walking away on your own." "He lied to me." The words came out low, dangerous, ten years of grief and guilt curdling into something sharper in the space of a single sentence. "I spent a decade thinking I broke her heart to save her from a life inside this club. I thought that was my sacrifice. My choice." "It was never a choice, Silas." Wade finally reached for the whiskey, poured two fingers but didn't drink it. "Dad made the choice for you the second he decided not to tell you the truth. He thought he was protecting you both. Keeping you from carrying the weight of knowing someone threatened her life because of you." "And you knew this. All this time, you knew, and you let me carry it like it was mine to carry." "I found out after Dad died. Found his files, the paper trail with Ellery's people. I didn't know what to do with it, so I did nothing." Wade's voice cracked, just slightly, just enough to show the years he'd spent sitting on the truth like a stone in his chest. "I'm sorry. I should have told you the second I found it." Silas said nothing. He stood in the middle of the office where he'd stood a thousand times before, and for the first time in his life the walls felt like they were closing in instead of holding him steady. "Marcus Ellery has a son," he finally said. "Grant Ellery. He's engaged to Reagan." Something shifted in Wade's expression, fast and sharp. "That's not a coincidence." "No." Silas's voice had gone quiet, quiet in the way that meant something dangerous was building underneath it. "It's not." He pulled out his phone and pulled up the picture Reagan had sent him an hour earlier, a photo of the messages on Grant's second phone, the ones signed with a single letter. He set the phone down on the desk in front of Wade. "My father wants this finished before the vote." Silas watched his brother's face as he read it. "Grant's been feeding his father information about our vote on the northern territory. He's been engaged to Reagan for two years, Wade. Two years, sitting inside her life, close enough to touch everything that mattered to me." Wade's face had gone pale. "You think Ellery placed him there on purpose. Years ago. Before you even ended things with her." The realization landed in Silas's chest like a fist. "I think Marcus Ellery didn't just threaten my father into breaking us apart. I think he made sure there'd be someone in place to keep watching her after we split up. Someone to make sure she never came back to me. Someone close enough to control her life while his father finished what he started fifteen years ago." "Silas." Wade's voice had dropped into something careful, something bracing. "If that's true, then Grant didn't fall in love with her by accident." "No." Silas's hands had curled into fists at his sides without him noticing. "He was placed." The office door opened without a knock, and one of the younger members leaned in, out of breath, his face pale in a way that made both brothers go still. "Silas. You need to see this." He held up his phone, hands shaking slightly. "Someone just posted a video near Reagan's apartment. Cops are already there." Silas felt every ounce of blood drain out of his chest in a single second. "What kind of video." The kid swallowed hard before he answered. "There's smoke coming from her building.""Absolutely not."Wade said it before Silas even finished reading the message a second time, his voice low and hard in the way it only got when he'd already made up his mind about something. "That's not an invitation, Silas. That's bait. You walk out there alone, you're walking into whatever they've got waiting for you.""I know what it is." Silas didn't look up from the phone. "I'm going anyway.""Then I'm going with you.""It says alone, Wade.""I don't care what it says." Wade's jaw set the same stubborn way their father's used to, the one expression neither brother had ever managed to argue their way out of inheriting. "You're not doing this by yourself. Not tonight. Not after what just happened to her building."Reagan hadn't let go of Silas's arm since he'd pulled her into it, and her grip tightened now, hard enough that he felt her nails through his shirt. "If you think for one second I'm standing on this sidewalk while you two drive off to meet whoever sent that, you don't kno
Silas was in his truck before the kid finished talking. "Wade, get Reagan on the phone," he called over his shoulder, already moving. "Tell her not to go home if she's not there yet. Somewhere public. Now go." He didn't wait to see if Wade had heard him right. He was already behind the wheel, already turning the key, and the engine caught with a roar that cracked off the fence line like a gunshot. His hands weren't steady. He noticed that somewhere in the back of his mind, distant and strange, the way a person notices their own heartbeat only once it's pounding too hard to ignore. Ten minutes. Her apartment was ten minutes away if the lights cooperated, and tonight nothing was cooperating, red after red after red, every second feeling like it was being carved straight out of his chest. His phone buzzed against the dashboard mount. Wade's name flashed on the screen. He hit speaker without slowing down. "She's not picking up," Wade said, breathless, an engine already starting some
The clubhouse sat at the edge of town behind a chain-link fence and a row of motorcycles lined up like soldiers at attention, and Silas walked through the front door without knocking, the way he'd walked through it a thousand times before. Tonight it felt different. Tonight the air inside felt charged, heavier than usual, like the building itself knew something was coming before he did. Wade was waiting for him in the back office, alone, exactly like the message said. He sat behind their father's old desk with a bottle of whiskey open in front of him, untouched, which told Silas more than anything Wade could have said out loud. Wade didn't drink before conversations he wanted to have. He drank before conversations he'd been avoiding for years. "Shut the door," Wade said. Silas shut the door. "You texted me about Dad and Ellery." Silas stayed standing, arms crossed, every muscle in his body braced for something he couldn't name yet. "So talk. What happened fifteen years ago?" Wade
Reagan told him everything. The message on the locked screen. The second phone hidden in his jacket. The messages that read less like a business deal and more like a confession she wasn't supposed to see, all of it spilling out of her faster than she could organize it into something that made sense. Silas didn't interrupt once. He sat across from her with his forearms braced on the table, listening the way he used to listen to her a decade ago, like nothing else in the room existed while she was talking. "Read me the exact words again," he said when she finished. "The last one. Word for word." "Handle it before Cole gets involved further. My father wants this finished before the vote." Her voice wavered on the last part. "What vote, Silas? What is he talking about?" Something moved across his face, fast and hard, gone before she could name it. He sat back in the booth and dragged a hand down his jaw, and for a moment he looked less like the man who'd carried her mother out of a fi
It was an accident, the way she found it. Grant left his jacket over the back of a kitchen chair Sunday morning, keys and wallet on the counter, and went out for coffee before Reagan even had her eyes fully open. She reached for his phone out of habit, meaning to check the time, before remembering hers was sitting right there in her other pocket the whole time. The screen lit up anyway. One line of preview text, there and gone before the lock screen swallowed it again. Package secured. Second location confirmed. — M Nothing about it should have meant anything. People sent cryptic work messages all the time. Grant handled real estate deals that involved code names for properties, confidentiality clauses, all of it dressed up in language that sounded more dramatic than it actually was. She told herself that while she made coffee. She told herself that while she stood at the window and watched the street outside go about its ordinary Sunday morning. She told herself that right up unti
Delgado's office smelled like burnt coffee and old paperwork. Reagan sat across from him with both hands wrapped around a cup she had no intention of drinking, her knuckles pale, her eyes gritty from a night spent dozing in a hospital chair instead of sleeping. "I'm going to be straight with you, Ms. Hale." Delgado had the kind of face that had delivered bad news for years and never quite gotten comfortable with it. "This wasn't electrical. We found accelerant at two separate points of origin. Someone set that fire on purpose." Reagan's mouth went dry. "On purpose. Someone did this to my mother on purpose." "That's what the evidence tells us." "Why would anyone want to hurt her? She restores furniture, Detective. Her customers send her Christmas cards." Delgado glanced down at his notes, then back at her, and something in the pause told her he was choosing his next words carefully. "Has your mother had any conflicts recently? Business disputes, unpaid debts, anyone who might







