Page 14 of Silent as Sin
Maul grunted, something close to agreement. Rex muttered, but didn’t push.
I was Vice President of this club. Warden carried the crown, but I still carried weight, and they best remember it. I didn’t need to shout or swing to keep men in line. All I had to do was speak hard, hard enough that no one mistook it for anything but law.
And tonight, the law was simple: Wren stayed.
I caught her eyes then, just for a second. Ocean-blue, bright and startling even in the haze of smoke and lights. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t look away either. That silence of hers, it wasn’t weakness. It was strength. It was control.
But I knew better than the rest what silence could hide.
She wasn’t just some lost woman dragged from Venom’s hole. Fate had dropped her in my path, and I wasn’t about to ignore that kind of message. Whatever reason she was here, it was on me now. If the cost was flames licking through my own damn life, I’d take the fire and hold on to her anyway.
Men like me didn’t get signs often. When we did, we damn well listened.
***
THE WAR ROOMsmelled of wood polish and smoke, the kind of scent that never left no matter how many times Jewel scrubbed the walls. The long table bore scars from years of fists, knives, and spilled liquor. Maps were tacked to the corkboard, routes, supply lines, firebreaks of territory.
Warden sat at the head, broad shoulders filling the chair like a king on his throne. I took my seat to his right, where I’d always been. VP wasn’t just a patch; it was where you stood when the weight came down.
Maul leaned forward, elbows on the table, steady and quiet. Scyth sat back, his sharp eyes narrowed in thought. Rex lounged like he didn’t care, though his mouth twitched with every word spoken. Throttle was opposite me, smoke curling lazy from the ever present cigarette between his fingers. Hex sat near the board, arms crossed, silent but listening.
Warden’s voice cut through the quiet room. “We got unfinished business.” His gaze swept the table. “Venom’s dead. But the girl—” his jaw ticked once, “—the girl complicates things.”
“She’s not just some stray,” Scyth said, leaning forward. His voice was razor-sharp. “Venom doesn’t hide a woman for years unless she’s worth something. Either he was using her, or she knows things we don’t.”
“She knows too much,” Rex muttered, tipping back his beer. “That’s the problem. Silence don’t last forever.”
I clenched my fists under the table. “She’s not the problem. What she remembers is.”
Warden gave me a long look, then nodded slightly like he’d expected me to speak up.
Throttle flicked ash into the tray. “So what’s the play? Sit on her and hope she never opens her mouth? Or figure out what the hell Venom was doing with her?”
“That’s the question,” Warden said. His voice was calm, but the room leaned into it anyway. “Venom didn’t move without reason. If he had a side project, someone knew. And if someone knew, we need to find out who—and why.”
“Fire Dragons,” Maul rumbled at last. His voice was like stone grinding. “Vandal let him run in the club. If anyone knew his secrets, it’d be him.”
The name hung heavy. Fire Dragons weren’t allies. They weren’t open enemies either, not since the last truce. But they were volatile, one spark could set them burning. Calla may be Vandal’s ol’ lady but that didn’t mean he’d take shit lying down. Still burns my ass Emmaline is now part of that shitshow.
Warden drummed his fingers once against the table, then stilled. Decision locked in. “We ride to their clubhouse. Sit down with Vandal. See what he knew.”
My jaw tightened. “That’s a risk.”
“Everything’s a risk,” Warden said, his eyes meeting mine. “But leaving her here without answers? That’s suicide.”
I didn’t argue. Couldn’t. He was right, we needed answers. But my gut twisted anyway. Fire Dragons didn’t play straight. Asking questions there wasn’t just fishing for truth. It was throwing a stone into a still pond, watching the ripples reach every shore.
Still, the vote was done. Warden had spoken.
I leaned back in my chair, eyes on the map pinned to the board. If the wrong ears caught wind of what we were after, we’d have more than Venom’s ghost to deal with.
And if that happened, I’d be ready.
***
THE CLUBHOUSE WASstill settled into its late-night rhythm, when we came out of the war room. I needed to talk to Wren before me and Warden rode out.
Wren sat on the edge of the couch still, hands folded in her lap, shoulders tight and eyes alert. Jewel and Elara lingered nearby, talking low. Every so often, Jewel reached out to set ahand close to Wren’s arm—not touching, just near enough to remind her she wasn’t alone.
