Page 41 of Damascus & The Wildfire
The people I grew up with would stab you in the back over a petty slight, all while pretending to be your best friend. At least the Mavericks owned it. They’d stab you in the front, and then tell you why.
Maybe that’s why I liked them. Because here, in this brutal, broken world, there was a kind of honesty and honor among the Mavericks I hadn’t found anywhere else.
But it scared me, too. Every step closer felt like shedding another layer of who I used to be. I wasn’t sure where the line was anymore—between right and wrong, between justice and revenge, between being an outsider and becoming one of them.
Chapter Fourteen
I slipped on my cut and snuck through the hallway. The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioning and muffled snores from the bedroom.
I snagged a banana from the counter as I tried to remember her name. Allie? Ellie? Shit. It didn’t matter. I’d never see her again anyway. She lived in the Woodlands, a bougie planned community with green spaces and little shops. I’d probably be her first and last walk on the wild side. She’d become someone’s suburban trophy wife in a few years and regale her mommy group with the story of how she fucked a Maverick. I was more than happy to oblige with her fantasy for rough sex with a biker, though I’d hesitated when she asked me to choke her. That wasn’t really my thing.
The morning haze promised a scorching day. I ducked into a coffee shop below her apartment to order a cappuccino that cost more than I’d spent at the bar the night before. The barista watched me with curiosity, so I shot her a wink, earning a blush and a stammer as she handed me my drink with her phone number written on the sleeve.
With street parking scarce, I’d left my bike a few blocks away.Between the security cameras and well-lit streets, I’d had little concern about anyone—Jackals included—stealing my bike overnight. As I cut through the park, I spotted Tyler slouched on a bench, shoulders hunched, staring at his phone.
My hand tightened around the coffee cup. Alarm bells rang through my mind. I couldn’t recall where Tyler lived, but it sure as fuck wasn’t the Woodlands. He worked for Reaper, and that meant sunrise starts on construction sites, not leisurely park strolls in the morning.
I checked my phone for the time. Yeah, this wasn’t right. I moved to the shade, letting a group of joggers pass. Tyler kept glancing around, like he was waiting for someone.
A woman in a navy suit appeared moments later, her stride purposeful as she approached. She slid onto the bench beside him. My pulse ticked up. I ducked behind a tree, pretending to check my phone, but my gaze stayed locked on the pair. Tyler’s hands moved restlessly, rubbing his palms on his jeans, nodding too quickly at whatever she was saying. He kept scanning the park.
Something was off. Way fucking off.
I waited until the woman stood and snapped a photo of her face as she turned my way, zooming in to capture a close-up of her sharp features. Tyler stayed put for five minutes, checking his phone and fiddling with his wallet before standing.
I’d waited, hoping it was just his doppelganger. But it was Tyler.
I shot a group text to Thane, Reaper, Merrick, Linc, and Fuse.
Me:
Where’s Tyler supposed to be this morning?
Reaper:
Coming in late. Dentist appt. Why?
Me:
Looks more like a meeting with his handler.
I attached a few photos, one with the woman’s face clear enough for a search.
Reaper:
Fuck me. Linc, see if you can find out who she is.
Me:
I’ll grab the fucker and bring him in.
Merrick:
Stand down. Let’s meet at the clubhouse first. We need to handle this right.
Fucking Merrick.
I rolled up to the clubhouse. Inside, Merrick, Thane, and Reaper waited. Tension crackled between them like a live wire.
