Jax’s POV
The clubhouse went dead quiet after I asked about Colt. Layla stood in the middle of the room, eyes wide, lips parted like she wanted to explain. Roxy was holding a napkin to her mouth. Chloe looked smug, but nervous.
I didn’t yell. I didn’t ask twice. I just looked at Layla. She swallowed. “Jax, I—”
“Not now,” I said.
Her face fell. “Please.”
“Not. Now.”
Grizz stepped up beside me. “We roll in ten.” That snapped everything back into place. Mission. Frank. Viper. The old meat packing plant.
Vincent had the bomb ready. We’d been building that thing for two days straight in the back of the garage. Pipe shell. Military-grade powder we bought through three different hands. Remote detonator. Clean and mean.
I looked at Layla again. She looked small standing there, like the wo
