Page 30 of Dane

For twelve years, I thought I was alone in that story. Turns out I was wrong. And being wrong had never felt so Goddamn good.

* * *

The next morning, Knuckles called church at nine. I left Brielle sleeping in my bed with a note and a pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen before walking across the compound to the clubhouse.

The room was full. Knuckles at the head of the table, Gunnar beside him, Knight at his laptop at the far end. Rip, Oktober, Pain, a few others. Everyone looked like they’d been up for hours.

“Affidavit’s been filed,” Knuckles said without preamble. “Lana took care of it first thing this morning. What that means for us is that Sutton will begin whatever play he has in mind.” He glanced at me. “Brielle is yours?”

I shook my head, then stopped. “She doesn’t know it yet, but yes.”

Knuckles narrowed his gaze on me. “What do you mean she doesn’t know? She’s in your apartment. Right?”

“Well, yeah. But we’ve not actually, like, made formal plans or anything.”

“For fuck’s sake, Dane.” Gunnar rolled his eyes. “Just get a Goddamned property vest for the woman. We all know it’s happening, though I have to admit, this one surprised me.”

I grinned, relaxed and at peace with the decision. “Consider it done, Prez.” Fuck. I was at peace with more than just the decision to make Brielle my old lady. For the first time in my life, I knew I was finally on the right path.

“Good. Brielle’s your woman. We had her back anyway, but now it’s personal because she’s family.” Knuckles nodded at Knight. “Your turn.”

Knight didn’t look up from his screen. “Ethan was right. The watch has started. I’ve identified a PI out of Indiana. Name’s Richard Sandlin. Hired through a firm called Hoosier Law Offices in Terre Haute. Sutton uses them for local work. Sandlin is the same guy who took the gate photos and mailed the package to Dane’s PO.” He scrolled. “Sandlin’s clean. No record. Does divorce work, mostly. Surveillance for custody cases. Nothing violent.”

“He the one following my bike?” I asked.

“Yeah. Rental car. Gray sedan. Tag matches the one from the gate.” Knight tapped his keyboard. “Now the money. Sutton’s got a shell called BLC Holdings. Registered in Delaware, bank account in the Caymans. I pulled everything. Prepaid filings for the next three years. Dead contacts. Phone number goes to a voicemail that hasn’t been checked since 2019. There’s about two hundred thousand dollars just parked, not moving at all.”

“I’m not following.” Gunnar leaned forward. “What are you saying?”

Knight looked up. His expression didn’t change. “I’m saying there’s nobody there. No partners. No crew. No organization behind him. BLC is a placeholder. The money’s sitting in that company’s account, but the company only exists on paper. Sandlin’s a hired gun doing a job.” He closed his laptop. “Sutton’s alone.”

“Fuck,” Rip said softly.

“A man alone is worse than a man with organization,” Knuckles said. “Organization you can predict. A man with nothing to lose?” He shook his head. “Unpredictable.”

The door opened. Brielle stepped in, followed by Hannah. She looked like she’d thrown her clothes on in a hurry -- jeans, a sweater, hair pulled back. She found me across the room and held my gaze.

“Hi, Brielle. Sorry to disrupt your morning. Sit,” Knuckles said, not unkindly. He gestured to the chair beside me.

She obeyed, folding her hands in her lap. Which wouldn’t do. I reached over and covered her hands with one of mine, squeezing to let her know I was with her. I’d always be with her.

Knight turned his screen toward her. “I pulled the regulator file. Your complaint, dated six years ago, filed through the public library terminal in Terre Haute.” He tapped the screen. “It never left the agency. Died in the intake queue. A junior examiner marked the file as ‘resolved -- no action needed’ eight months later. There’s no documentation anywhere the bank was contacted. Neither was Sutton. It honestly looks like someone knew it would bring a shitstorm of paperwork they didn’t want to be involved with and kept pushing it out. Finally, someone cleared the queue in the most expedient way possible. No other complaints were made in eight months, so that person probably thought there wasn’t anything to the complaint to begin with.” Brielle sucked in a breath. “He never knew,” Knight finished.

“The nursing home,” she said softly, her voice small, like she was holding it together by sheer force of will. “He moved her… just because?”

“Yeah.” Knight nodded. “He did.”

“But… why?” While I’d found my peace, Brielle looked like she would shatter at any minute. I moved closer to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She shivered, burrowing as close as she could without crawling into my lap.

“Because he wanted better leverage on you,” I said. The words came out before I could stop them. “When you tried to resign, he put things in motion. He needed something new to keep you in line, so he made it himself.”

Brielle dropped her head, looking down at her lap. One tear fell, and she brushed it away with the back of her hand.

Knuckles’ phone rang. He put it on speaker. “Ethan.”

“I’ve got ten days,” Ethan’s voice came through, crisp and focused. “The affidavit’s in front of a judge. Sutton’s got ten days to respond before we can file for a restraining order and protective custody. Is Dane with you?”

“I’m here,” I spoke up. “Brielle’s with us, too.”