Jax’s POV
I couldn't stop thinking about that call in jail. The mayor's voice. Smooth like oil. Dangerous like a snake.
"Jax Slater," he'd said. "You're in a bad spot. Killing cops tends to do that."
I'd gripped the phone tighter. "They came at us in the dark. No warning. No lights. We thought it was an attack."
"I know." The mayor's voice was almost kind. Almost. "And I can make it all go away. You and your men, free. No charges. No trial. No prison."
My heart had stopped. "Why would you do that?"
"Because I need men like you. Men who can do things... quietly. Men who don't ask questions."
"What kind of things?"
"Supply runs. Nothing too messy. Just goods that need moving without too many eyes watching."
I'd known what that meant. Drugs. Guns. Maybe worse.
"I'll think about it,"
