RIDE OR RUIN

HOW LONG

Nobody spoke for a long moment. The frozen image of the hooded figure holding up Noah's photograph seemed to hang in the air of the common room like smoke that wouldn't clear, and Lena felt every set of eyes in the club flick between the screen and her, weighing, calculating, the way people did when they realized a stranger had just become the center of their world whether they wanted her there or not.

"Rewind it," Jaxon said. "I want to see when he showed up."

Rosa worked the controls, footage crawling backward, and the timestamp in the corner blurred past hours until the figure appeared at the edge of the frame, walking the fence line with unhurried confidence, like a man who knew exactly how far the cameras could see and exactly how to stay just outside their reach until he wanted to be found.

"Eleven forty this morning," Rosa said. "Almost three hours before Ridge Street."

"So he was already in position." Jaxon's voice had gone hollow. "Before I even knew Noah existed, somebody already had a photo of him."

"Which means the leak isn't new," Colt said from the doorway, arms crossed, jaw tight. "Whoever's feeding Victor information has been doing it a while. Long enough to know about a kid nobody in this club knew about until an hour ago."

Lena's knees felt unsteady beneath her. She reached for the back of a chair, gripping it hard enough that her knuckles went white, and Jaxon was at her side before she fully registered moving, one hand steady at her elbow.

"Sit down," he said, gentler now, the fury banked back beneath something more careful. "You're about to fall over."

"I'm not going to fall over." But she let him guide her into the chair anyway, because her legs had stopped fully cooperating and pride wasn't worth collapsing in front of a room full of strangers.

"Where's Noah," she asked, suddenly frantic, twisting to scan the room.

"Rosa's niece took him to the back with some coloring books," Jaxon said quickly. "He's fine. He's safe. Nobody gets past that door without going through six of my best people first."

"Six people didn't stop somebody from taking his photo three hours before we even knew we were in danger."

The words landed harder than she meant them to, and she watched something crumple behind Jaxon's eyes before he forced it back into stillness. He didn't argue. He just nodded once, like he'd accepted the blow because he believed he deserved it.

"You're right," he said quietly. "And I'm going to fix that. Starting now."

He turned to the room, voice rising into something that carried, something that made every conversation die instantly. "Everybody who was on this property between six this morning and now, I want your whereabouts for every hour. Prospects first."

A ripple moved through the crowd, uneasy, murmuring, and Lena watched the faces for any flicker of guilt, any tell that might mark the traitor hiding among them. She found nothing but confusion and fear that mirrored her own.

"Jax." A voice cut through from the back, and the crowd parted enough for a heavyset man with a gray beard and a vest heavy with patches to step forward. "You really think one of us sold out a kid we didn't even know about?"

"I think somebody in this room has been talking to the Vultures long enough to know things they shouldn't, Marcus. And I think you of all people should want to know who, since it's your sit down that just got missed because I was busy keeping my son alive."

Marcus's expression flickered at the word son, surprise chasing something unreadable across his weathered face. "Since when do you have a kid?"

"Since about two hours ago, as far as I knew." Jaxon's jaw tightened. "Five years, as far as the truth goes."

The room went utterly silent, dozens of eyes swinging toward Lena now with new understanding, and she felt herself shrink under the weight of it despite every instinct telling her not to.

"That true?" Marcus asked, looking at her directly for the first time.

"It's true," she said, chin lifting despite the tremor in her voice. "And if any of you had a hand in putting a target on my son's back, I don't care how loyal you think you are. I will burn this club to the ground myself."

A few members exchanged startled glances, and somewhere near the back, someone let out a low, surprised laugh, quickly stifled.

Jaxon's mouth twitched, something almost like pride flickering through the tension on his face. "She means it."

"I noticed," Marcus muttered.

Colt's radio crackled again before anyone else could speak, his voice cutting through with fresh urgency. "Jax, you need to see this. Front gate cameras. Somebody just left an envelope taped to the fence."

The room's temperature seemed to drop ten degrees all at once.

"Don't touch it," Jaxon ordered, already moving toward the door, Colt and two others falling into step behind him. "Rosa, stay with Lena."

"I'm coming," Lena said, pushing up from the chair despite her still unsteady legs.

"Lena—"

"He's my son. I'm not sitting in a chair while you open something that might be about him."

Jaxon studied her for a long moment, something like respect settling into the hard lines of his face, and finally nodded once. "Stay behind me."

They moved as a group toward the gate, floodlights washing the yard in harsh white light, and there, taped exactly at eye level to the chain link fence, sat a plain white envelope with a single word written across the front in block letters.

FAMILY.

Jaxon's hand hovered over it, and for one suspended second, nobody in the yard breathed at all.