Page 22 of Shadow Strike
She knew that.Yet, she couldn’t justify that those few bad apples were causing major issues for many people, just like her and her mom.“I’m not walking away from this investigation.If you’re not okay with that, you need to leave.I’ll hire someone else to protect Mom and the bar.”
Those green eyes snapped at her.“I’m not asking you to walk away from your investigation.I’m explaining why it’s hard for me to jump in with both feet and help.”He stopped, ran a hand through his hair.“Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve stayed.I was next in line to lead.Maybe if I hadn’t gone into the Army, I’d be in Ryder’s place right now, returning the Outlaws to my grandfather’s vision.I’d be upholding his legacy.”
The sadness in his voice made her heart squeeze.She reached out and touched his forearm before she even thought about it.“What happened is not your fault.”
“Isn’t it?”But then he smiled again.This time, it didn’t meet his eyes.“We’d better get some sleep.See you in the morning.”
He turned and left her standing there.
In her room, she listened to him moving around the guest bedroom.The wall between them was thin.Once she heard him settle, she sat at her desk for twenty minutes with her research files open and wrote nothing.
Her work looked different tonight.Before, it had been all about a criminal organization, a pattern of harm, a story that needed to be told.
Now she saw CB’s face when she reread her notes—heard him talk about his grandfather and helping people when she reviewed her spreadsheet.
She pulled up her file on the founding of the Canon Outlaws.CB’s grandfather, Ben Briggs, had started it in the 1960s as a motorcycle club, the way a lot of clubs had started in that era.Weekend rides.A community of men and women who wanted something that felt like brotherhood.
She read it more slowly tonight.
Wade had inherited the club from his father and held it for thirty years.She had documentation on the activities that had crossed legal lines—protection rackets after Wade took over, the relationship with certain law enforcement that had started as mutual tolerance and had become something worse.She’d been thinking of him as a predecessor to Ryder, a stepping stone in the organization’s corruption.
But Wade had also organized the county’s first wildfire response network in 1987, using Outlaw resources and contacts to coordinate evacuations before the state infrastructure caught up.She had notes on two families who’d attributed their survival to that effort.
She hadn’t planned to include it.It complicated the narrative.
But is it true?
Yes.It was true.
She sat with that for a while.Then she opened a new document and typed a single line at the top:The Canon Outlaws didn’t start as a criminal enterprise.Understanding how they became one requires understanding what they were.
She didn’t know if she’d use it.She saved it anyway.
She changed into pajamas and turned off the desk lamp, lying in the dark.Her mother was safe.The bar was secure.
She should be uncomfortable with a man she’d known for less than forty-eight hours sleeping a few feet away.A man connected, however indirectly, to the people threatening her.
What she felt instead was the same thing she’d felt all day, under everything.Relief.
She fell asleep with the word settling in her chest.
CHAPTERSIX
He was up before six.
An old habit the Army had installed in him.He’d slept well, which surprised him slightly.The guest room was quiet, the bed was big enough for him, and Desi had visited twice in the night, the second time staying, a warm weight at the foot of the mattress that CB hadn’t had the heart to move.
The house was still quiet, and the security app for the bar showed nothing except a moose strolling through the parking lot at the bar just after they’d left, probably on its way to the lake.So he checked in with Mack, outlining his plan to handle the extortion, and got the go-ahead.He also responded to an email from Vivi about his missed session.The woman was relentless.
He was heading for a shower when the bathroom door opened.Regan emerged in a cloud of steam that smelled of raspberries.Her hair was wet, her feet bare, and she wore nothing but a towel that covered what it needed to and made him acutely aware of everything it didn’t.
She was looking down, working a smaller towel through her hair, and she walked directly into him.
He caught her by the shoulders before she could bounce off.
She looked up, startled.
He’d been in a lot of situations that required composure under pressure.He applied that skill now, while his mind was racing with thoughts about her and what he wanted to do with that towel.“Good morning.”
