It did not, at least, not in the way Viktor thought.
Or my assumption of his thought patterns.
Not that I cared what flowed through his mind. He was nothing to me. Not yet. Mateo was right to distrust him. To distrust anything and everything.
So I forgave his newfound hostility towards me and focused on Nash’s question. “You have a map?”
“I do.” Rubi rose and plucked a paper map from a shelf. It was dusty with erased pencil lines and scattered Post-it notes.
He swiped them away. “I use it for club runs because my dad did.”
“That is why you must fight, no?”
Rubi held my gaze, his answering nod strong. Resolute. “It’s why we’ll die if we have to.”
If it came to that, I would die too. I could not imagine an existence without Cam or Saint.
But I could not imagine Cam surviving the death of a brother either, so here we were.
I looked at the map, flitting my attention between it and the moving dots on Saint’s tracker software. “We cannot be sure of their route south, but we will know when they stop for any period of time. If they split and go in different directions, it will be a shot in the dark which is the Trojan horse and which is the shipment, but you will need to fight both, so it is semantics at this point.
“What if they expect us more at one location? We could end up outnumbered.”
I spared Nash a glance. “It is a risk, but my guess is that they will expect you to hit the truck as it reaches your territory, or just outside, as a result of the overt recon that makes sense. They do not know about the bugs or communication with Viktor.However...” I met the collective gaze of the table. “Viktor believes the sidekick, McGif, is unstable, unpredictable, and impossible for Butch Crow to control. Contrary to what Rocco told us, Embry was never an intended target. It was spun that way after the event, to appease Crows who would not support the attempted murder of an MC brother, no matter the club, for no good reason. Doubling down with a bounty on Embry’s head was a bizarre way to combat that.”
More silence. The attack on Embry was an open wound that bled harder in his absence. One that would perhaps never heal. But there was no time to be nice to them. “My point is that we must prepare for something monstrous, in here—” I tapped my temple. “—as much as anywhere else. Do not choke. Now make your plan, Kings. Vote on it. So we can move out.”
I stepped back from the table. Whatever happened now was in Cam’s hands and as my spine hit the wall, it dawned on me that any tactical decision he made would break the three of us apart. Me to the Crow compound. Saint to chase down the shipment of trafficked teenagers. And Cam? He would face the worst battle without us.
No.
I pushed off and strode back to the table, coming to a stop by Mateo. “Cast your vote.”
He glared. “On what? There’s no plan.”
“For them. We know what we have to do and we need to do it now.” I turned to Cam. “Unless you want to keep him with you?”
“No.” Cam’s answer snapped like a whip. “You ride together. Stay together. No one rides alone.”
I swivelled back to Mateo. “Vote.”
Mateo hesitated, gaze pinging round the table before it landed on Cam.
Cam nodded.
Mateo jabbed a finger at Saint. “Wherever his fucked-up brain goes, I’m there. Don’t get killed, folks.”
He kicked his chair back and left the chapel.
I followed, but Cam chased me down.
He threw me against the wall, fingers rough on my jaw. “When this is over, I’m gonna make sure you never bleed for me again.”
That was it. His goodbye.
He let me go and walked away.
Saint appeared like a ghost. He said nothing. Just stared. Then he kissed two fingertips and blew the sentiment straight into my soul before he retreated into the chapel.