Page 26 of Property of Bones

Instead, Spike handed them power.

Buckey’s jaw tightens. “And what do you want in return?”

Spike’s eyes go flint-hard. “I’m looking for a man who may or may not be working with Los Fantasmas. I want eyes on the ground. Intel. If he passes through your side of the line, I want to know the second he breathes your air.”

He doesn’t raise his voice. Doesn’t need to.

Me? I’m still watching the VP.

Because if he so much as blinks wrong, I’ll be the last thing he sees.

“You’re offering a lot for some simple intel,” Buckey says, voice dipped in skepticism, but there’s a thread of unease running under it.

Spike doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink. “How do I know you won’t back down?” Buckey presses, his eyes narrowing.

“Because, unlike you, Buckey boy, I’m a man of my word,” Spike replies smoothly, all edge and cold like an ice pick. “And just so you’re aware, this won’t be simple intel. I need you to get someone in deep. Even if it’s as low as unclogging their toilets or sweeping their floors. I don’t care. But I need to know where this man is and what kind of ties he has to Los Fantasmas.”

The tension hangs thick in the air, rippling like static before a storm.

Buckey stares at Spike for a beat, the weight of the proposition settling like a rock in his gut. He knows it’s no small task. Getting a man on the inside of that gang? That’s a death sentence for anyone who isn’t prepared for it. No one in their right mind would risk it unless they had a damn good reason.

“How long do I have to decide?” Buckey finally asks, his voice low, but there’s an edge of anxiety beneath it.

“Until I get on my bike and leave,” Spike replies without hesitation. “I have one more club to ask if you don’t agree. But I came to you first because I know you’re desperate. And right now, your options aren’t looking too great.”

Buckey’s jaw tightens, the words sinking in deeper than he lets on. “What club?”

Spike leans back just slightly, the hint of a smile curling up his lips. “Dragones Dorados.”

The VP freezes. “The Golden Dragons are the fuckers we’re at war with,” he spits.

“Exactly,” Spike says, his smile widening. “So, here’s the deal. Either you take ours, and we help you kick their asses, or you don’t, and we help them kick yours. Either way, I get what I want. And just so we’re clear, I fucking hate the Dragons. Those assholes treat their women like cattle. At least you and your boys know how to show respect for women and children.”

Buckey shifts, a crack forming in the tough guy facade. Spike just laid it out plain. He’s got two roads, and both lead to him getting what he wants. The question is: which one will Buckey take?

“It’s not really much of a choice, is it?” Buckey mutters. “Fine. I accept.”

“You’re not gonna discuss this with your men?” Spike asks, brows raised.

“Would you?” Buckey fires back.

Spike’s eyes narrow. “Every decision I make is made with the backing of my brothers. It’s what keeps our club solid.Brotherhood.You should try it sometime.”

“Maybe after I’ve had a lobotomy,” Buckey grunts. “We accept. Now, who the hell are we risking our necks for?”

Spike pulls out his phone and taps the screen. “I’m sending his file to your email. Your man will need to get inside, close enough to know where he eats, sleeps, and shits. And when that time comes, tell him not to underestimate this guy. He’s dangerous.”

Buckey leans forward slightly. “Who is he?”

Spike’s jaw tightens. “One of mine. He was our Prospect Leader… until he betrayed us all. His name is Max.”

The name hangs in the air like a gunshot.

Max.

The fucker who sold us out, then helped us save Riley. The man whose face I still see in my scope more often than I’d like to admit. None of it’s ever made sense.

If he’s mixed up with Los Fantasmas, then he’s not the man I thought he was.

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