Page 47 of Property of Bones

“No,” Spike answers flatly. “But just like we discussed, they’re desperate for our help. If they give us false intel, then help will be the last thing they get. And if Max is involved in that group andwhat’s been happening here, we’re going to have to be careful. He knows everything there is to know about us.”

“I’m so fucking conflicted about Max,” Knuckles says. “He betrays us and then helps us. Something isn’t adding up.”

“It’s not,” Spike agrees. “We’re going to get answers one way or another. Until then, let’s focus on this fucking drug. Foster, did you get info on the people who worked at the diner?”

“I did,” Foster says, flipping open his laptop. “I’m running a check on all of their employees right now. It’ll take a few hours. But, we may have another issue. Data traffic out of the clubhouse suggests someone else has been accessing secure info, maybe remotely. I’m still trying to pin it down.”

My jaw clenches. “Do you think Max is smart enough to hack into our systems from the outside?”

Foster gives a grim nod. “It’s possible. I’ve put up trackers, though. From now on, every time our systems are accessed, I’ll be notified of who they are and what location they’re at. I just need them to do it one more time so my poison can take effect.”

“Speaking of poison,” Spike cuts in, his voice cold and sharp. “The cookies that hit Riley and Sunny were laced with enough fentanyl to drop a man Maverick’s size. Twice.”

A low whistle cuts through the room.

“Which, in the grand scheme of things, ain’t all that much,” Skip mutters, twirling his pen again. “Stuff’s lethal in pinches. A little goes a long damn way.”

“The real question is,” I say, my voice like gravel over concrete, “did they make a whole laced batch? Or were those cookies meant for just them?”

“They were meant for me,” Spike growls. “Or, at the very least, someone inside the compound. I’m the one who ordered the food to go. They figured it was going to a Shadow.”

“A message,” Tank mutters. “So, who was stupid enough to go after one of ours?”

“I have an entire basement full of filleting knives for whoever it was,” I growl.

Foster’s already typing. “I’ll pull surveillance from the store. Cross-check employees and deliveries with anything we’ve flagged. And I’ll loop in the Vipers’ contact to see if anything matching this kind of hit has shown up in their territory.”

There’s a heavy pause. A storm gathering in the silence.

Because this wasn’t just a hit.

It was a message.

And the bastards behind it were still whispering.

Chapter Sixteen

Sunny

“Wow. This place is even more intense in the daylight.”

“You’re not wrong,” Abby laughs, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her oversized hoodie. “You can’t see beyond the walls unless you’re looking through the front gate. There are cameras on every corner, snipers on the roof twenty-four-seven, fifteen houses surrounding the clubhouse, and big burly bikers wandering around like it’s a fashion-forward military base. But I’ve never felt safer than I have since moving here.”

Something flickers in Abby’s eyes…quick, but sharp. Like a shadow crossed over her soul and hasn’t quite left.

She’s been through something.

And now I’m wondering… are we close enough for me to ask?

Or would poking at that wound make me the worst kind of friend? The nosy one who only wants the juicy details? Still, my heart aches for whatever that shadow was.

“I have to admit,” I murmur, casting a glance toward the gate, “it does feel pretty safe.”

Safer than it should, maybe.

Safer than I’ve felt in a long time.

I didn’t even realize that I felt unsafe living on my own.

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