The ride back to Devil’s Hollow felt like sitting inside a powder keg with a lit fuse. Nobody talked, nobody joked and nobody even looked at me.
Because the second I recognized my father’s shipment mark on those recovered weapons, everything changed. Again.
Crow rode ahead of us in silence and Roman looked like he wanted to punch through the concrete.
Knox kept glancing toward me every few minutes like he was trying to figure out how much worse the truth could get.
I was wondering the same thing. The second we got back to the clubhouse Roman called church.
Not tomorrow, not later. He wanted it immediately.
That alone told me how bad things were. The church room filled fast while patched members crowded around the scarred wooden table and every face looked exhausted, anger, or b
