The burner phone sits on the table between me and Angelica like a bomb ready to go off. Six weeks of running. Six weeks of that useless woman whining, crying… losing the one thing I needed her to protect.
The drive.
The fucking necklace.
My future.
Why the hell did I trust Angelica with it? I should've known that rat-faced kid would take it. It has to be somewhere with her. Angelica's just being hopeful if she thinks it's still in that old house. I'm not an idiot. Well… maybe I was, trusting her.
Angelica curls up on the saggy couch like a kicked dog. She still flinches whenever I raise my voice. Eight years of this hell, and somehow she still acts surprised. I swallow the bitterness. She married me anyway. Stupid woman.
The burner vibrates. Finally.
I snatch it up.
A single text flashes on the screen:
Inside:
Confirmed. She's alive. At the Dead Line compound. With Bear.
Alive. That little brat is ALIVE.
I don't know whether to laugh or punch through drywall — so instead, I pace. Floorboards groan.
"Sunny's alive," I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.
Angelica whispers, "Pipe… I thought you said she was dead."
"I thought she was," I snap. "But apparently the kid's harder to kill than her mother."
She flinches. Good.
I fire back a message:
Pipe:
Does she have the drive?
The reply comes almost immediately.
Inside:
Not sure. Haven't gotten close. She recognizes me.
My blood runs cold.
Of course she does. Because my contact — my inside man — isn't some random hired gun. He's Dead Line. A patched-in member. One Bear trusts. One the whole damn club trusts.
And Sunny knows him. Knows him intimately. I pulled up that video the second I found out. It's my insurance. My leverage.
If she sees him near her… she talks.
Bear kills him.
And my last chance disappears—just like that necklace did.
I type back:
Pipe:
Then don't get close. Watch. Wait. Tell me everything.
Inside:
Understood. They're settling her into a room upstairs. She looks shaken. Quiet.
I grin. It tastes like metal in my mouth.
Good. Fear makes people sloppy.
Angelica dares to speak again: "Pipe… what if she tells them about you? What you made her do?"
I stop pacing.
Turn.
Look at her.
And laugh.
"That kid tried telling people for years. No one listened. Why the hell would they listen now?"
She's not convinced. She never is.
"But she had so many injuries before—" she pleads. "We always had people clean up the paperwork. Now we don't."
I toss my jacket over my shoulder, sliding the blade into the inner pocket. I grab the keys from the table.
"Pack your shit," I say. "We're leaving."
Her eyes go wide. "W-Where?"
"Toward Dead Line territory. I want to be close when he gets me answers."
She hesitates. "What if they see us? Or worse—what if he finds us?"
I grin. Cold. Hungry.
"Then they see us," I say. "But they won't. Creep scrubbed our trail. Dead Line's too busy playing house with a broken twelve-year-old to be looking for us." I glance at Angelica, hard. "And he doesn't know anything about us… not yet. Who knows what he knows."
Angelica winces. Good.
"She's not safe," she whispers.
"A problem," I agree. "A living, breathing, talking problem. And if she has the drive, she won't stay breathing for long."
The burner buzzes again. Another text from the inside man:
Inside:
They trust me. They won't suspect a thing. I'll find out if she has it. I'll be careful.
He'll be careful. I've watched him for years. Eyes inside the club. Ears in the dark. My shadow.
Sunny won't see him.
Won't hear him.
Won't even know he's close enough to breathe on her—until it's too late.
I text back:
Pipe: Good. Keep me updated. And if she does have it—don't touch her. She's mine.
Inside:
Understood.
Pipe:
Once this is done, the video is yours. All other copies? Deleted.
I slip the burner into my pocket. That electric pulse under my skin lights up again. I love violence, money, and evenge. Everything I'm owed. For the first time in weeks… hope flickers. The kid is alive. The inside man is close. Dead Line is blind. And I'm coming.