Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Knuckles gestured to two empty chairs across from him. “‘Bout fuckin’ time,” he grunted, but there was no real heat in the words. He even managed a wry grin. His gaze held mine for a moment, communicating what his words didn’t. A frisson of trepidation danced up my spine. Whatever Knight was about to say was bad.
I guided Cora to the chairs, my hand on the small of her back in what I hoped was a reassuring gesture. She moved with surprising composure, her chin high despite the palpable tension in the room. Pride surged through me at her strength.
“Knight,” Knuckles barked once we were seated. “Show them.”
Knight nodded, tapping a few keys on his laptop. The projector hummed to life, throwing images onto the white wall behind him. My stomach turned cold at what appeared.
Cora’s face stared back at us from surveillance photos that had been expertly altered. In one, she appeared to be handing a package to a known dealer in East Nashville. In another, she stood inside what looked like a warehouse, surrounded by crates labeled with the Kiss of Death insignia. Documents filled the next slides. Bank statements showing large deposits, text message exchanges discussing “product” and “shipments,” all of it seeming to implicate Cora, as well as Kiss of Death, in some kind of drug trafficking ring.
“Jesus,” Cora whispered beside me. I reached under the table, finding her hand and gripping it tightly.
Knight’s voice cut through the stunned silence. “Reeves has been busy. These have been uploaded to Nashville PD’s secure server in the last forty-eight hours. He’s building a case against Cora as our mule.” Knight clicked to another slide showing official-looking paperwork. “And this is a warrant request, not yet submitted but drafted, for a raid on the compound. He’s claiming Cora’s information led them to evidence of large-scale drug operations here.”
Knuckles slammed his fist onto the table, making several coffee mugs jump. “That fuckin’ pig,” he snarled. “Using a woman to get to Rancor. Low even for a cop with a hard-on for revenge.”
My fingers tightened around Cora’s hand, but I kept my face impassive. The rage building inside me was a familiar beast, one I’d spent years learning to cage. Now it prowled restlessly, sensing freedom was near. But acting on blind fury wouldn’t help Cora.
“How long do we have?” I asked, my voice steady despite the inferno raging beneath my skin.
Knight shrugged. “Three days, maybe four, before he submits the warrant request. Once it’s approved --”
“We need solutions,” Knuckles cut in. “Not fuckin’ timelines.”
Tiny, who’d been silent until now, leaned forward. “We could disappear her. I got contacts in --”
“No,” I interrupted, the single word slicing through the room. “We’re not running. Not from this. Reeves wants me. If he gets what he wants, he’ll leave you guys and Cora alone.”
Knight cleared his throat. “I have another idea. One that buries Reeves instead of us.” All eyes turned to him as he pulled something from his pocket. He laid a small, round object that looked like an ordinary button on the table in front of him. “We get him to confess. And we record him.”
“How the fuck do we manage that?” Hawk asked from his position by the door.
Knight’s tattooed lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Rancor arranges a meeting. Face-to-face. Reeves is arrogant. He’ll think it’s a surrender and that he’s won. Men like him can’t resist gloating.”
I nodded slowly, understanding forming. “And I wear this,” I said, gesturing to the button.
“Exactly. Military-grade recording with audio and video. It’s also a tracking device. Picks up everything within fifty feet. I’ve got the equipment to filter through the background noise.” Knight’s eyes met mine. “You get him talking about what he’s done to Cora, how he fabricated evidence against her and the club, his plans for the raid. I can take it from there,” Knight said. “If IA won’t do anything, I’ll take it to the press. Media just loves a good scandal.”
Cora’s breathing had grown rapid beside me, her pulse visible at her throat. I placed my free hand on her lower back, feeling the shallow rise and fall of her ribs.
“It’s risky,” Hannah said, speaking for the first time. “Reeves could arrest him on the spot.”
“Not without blowing his own plan,” Knight countered. “He needs the raid to plant whatever evidence he plans on ‘finding’ here.” He made air quotes. “He has to have some kind of evidence before he can justify an arrest, and to find evidence, he needs to get into the compound. For that, he needs the warrant.”
“Meaning he can arrest Marcus, but it’s not likely the charges will stick until he collects incriminating evidence he’s likely going to plant during the raid when he executes the warrant.” Cora’s assessment was spot on.