Jax’s POV
The Chapel. That's what we called the planning room. A small space at the back of the clubhouse, just big enough for a table and chairs. Walls covered in maps, photos, notes. The brain of the operation. I sat at the head of the table. Grizz across from me. Coffee cold between us. The weight of everything pressing down.
"Frank and Viper," Grizz said. "Together now. Working as one."
"Yeah."
"We need to hit them hard. Fast. Before they hit us again."
I nodded. "We need men. More than we got."
Grizz rubbed his jaw. "Recruiting. Always a risk."
"Everything's a risk now."
He was quiet for a moment. Then, "Tyler's good at recruiting. Knows the streets. Knows the desperate ones looking for a home."
I thought about Tyler. About his attitude. His jealousy. The way he looked at me
