Page 24 of Fang

“Because I know what it’s like to lose a brother,” I say, the words feeling strange in my mouth. I never talk about Tommy, especially not with strangers. But Mina isn’t quite a stranger anymore. I know Vapor told me to keep Tommy to myself, but I’m not telling her everything. I lost him. That’s all she needs to know.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, placing her hand on my forearm. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I lie smoothly. “It was a long time ago.” At least that part is true.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asks, as if she’s treading carefully.

At least she understands what it’s like to lose someone. That bonds her to me more than anything else ever could. I get her plight. Even though the cartel didn’t kill her brother—not yet, at least—they basically took him from her. That’s wrong, and I want to make things right.

In that moment, something shifts, and we become conspirators against both the cartel and my club. The guilt I should feel is oddly absent, replaced by certainty. This is the correct thing to do, even if it’s against the rules. Some codes are meant to be broken.

“We need to go now,” she says, already on her feet and moving toward the door. Her borrowed sweatpants drag on the floor despite being rolled at the waist, but she moves with a determined efficiency that suggests she’s ready to walk out of the clubhouse in whatever she’s wearing.

“Wait.” I step between her and the door, a symbolic move at best. Even if she wanted to get out, she couldn’t. Our eyes meet, and something electric passes between us—not attraction, but the friction of two strong wills colliding.

“Move,” she says, the word clipped and sharp.

“No,” I reply, keeping my voice deliberately calm. “We’re not going tonight.”

Her jaw tightens, a muscle flickering beneath the skin. “Every minute we waste is another minute the cartel could realize I’ve defected. If they suspect anything, they’ll move Rory or cut off his care completely.”

“I understand the urgency,” I say, not budging from my position. “But rushing in without proper preparation will get us killed, your brother included.”

She steps back, crossing the room in a series of agitated strides before spinning to face me again. “You don’t understand. They have people at the hospital—orderlies, nurses they’ve paid off. They’ve created a pocket of control around Rory’s room. If we wait, they might tighten that control.”

“I know more than you think,” I counter, moving away from the door now that she’s retreated. I sit at my desk and open my laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. “While you were waiting, I wasn’t just talking to Vapor. I was setting things in motion.”

She approaches cautiously, looking over my shoulder as I pull up a secure messaging thread. “What is this?”

“Communication with our Dallas chapter.” I scroll through the encrypted conversation. “They have a member—codenamed Scalpel—who was a kidney surgeon before he patched in. He’s agreed to help with your brother’s care after the extraction.”

Mina leans closer, her breath warm against my neck as she studies the screen. “A kidney surgeon? In a motorcycle club?”

“You’d be surprised who ends up in this life,” I say, thinking of my own unlikely journey from IT support to patched member. “Scalpel lost his medical license after punching an abusive husband who was visiting his wife in the hospital. The club took him in, keeps him on retainer for medical emergencies. He’s good—better than good. He’s performed four successfulkidney transplants since he patched in. Members from all over the country. With the help of a few rival clubs—shall we say—‘donors’?”

“And he’s willing to help Rory?” she asks, ignoring the implications of what I just said.

“For a price, yes.” I close the messaging app and open a digital blueprint. “I double checked those locations you gave me and I’m sure he’s at Mercy Memorial. Here’s the floor plan. I’ve marked the service entrances, security camera placements, and guard rotations. We’ll need at least twelve hours to finalize the extraction plan.”

Mina steps back, running a hand through her jet-black hair. “Twelve hours could be too late. The cartel doesn’t mess around, Fang. When they decide someone’s a liability, they move fast and hard.”

“Yeah, but if we jump the gun, Rory could end up dead. Us too. I know we don’t have much time, but we’ve got to do this right the first time.”

Mina resumes pacing, her movements sharp and controlled like a predator. “How can you be sure that waiting will help Rory?”

“I read up on Primary Hyperoxaluria Type 1,” I say, the medical term feeling strange on my tongue. “It’s a rare kidney disease that causes oxalate to build up. Forms crystals that damage the kidneys. Nasty shit. And eventually, the other organs fail too. He requires specialized dialysis, medication management, and constant monitoring. That’s why we’ve got to wait.”

Mina stops abruptly, staring at me with undisguised surprise. “You really did do your homework.”

“Always do,” I say simply, skipping over the part where I called Scalpel to make sure I understand the complexities of the condition. “And this is exactly why we can’t just rush into thehospital tonight. If we disconnect his equipment improperly or administer the wrong medications during transport, we could kill him.”

Her expression wavers, the fierceness giving way to something more vulnerable. “I can’t lose him,” she whispers. “He’s all I have left.”

“Which is why we need to be smart about this.” I stand, approaching her with the cautious respect one shows a capable opponent. “Scalpel is driving through the night to reach us. He’ll bring the portable dialysis unit, medication supplies, and everything else Rory will need during the transition. Meanwhile, I’m setting up a secure location where we can take your brother until it’s safe to move him to a more permanent facility.”

“What kind of location?” Her question is sharp, testing the solidity of my plan.

“A safe house the club maintains off the grid. It has generator backup, satellite internet that can’t be traced, and enough isolation that no one will hear or see us coming and going.” I don’t tell her it’s actually my personal property, a cabin I bought with Bitcoin earnings from a security system I designed years ago. “It’s not hospital-grade, but with Scalpel’s equipment, it will keep Rory stable until we can arrange something better.”

---