Page 94 of Turmoil's Target

I have urgent news for Damon and Dixon. There’s a snake in their garden just like they thought, and I’m damn sure I know who the snake is.

Sassy.

The heavy steel gate groans as it swings open, admitting me into the compound.

Gravel crunches under my tires as I pull around the circular drive, the imposing brick facade of the clubhouse looming before me.

I barely have the car in park before Abe pushes through the front doors, his broad shoulders filling the frame.

There’s a furrow between his brows as he watches me step out onto the asphalt.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets me, but there’s a tightness in his voice that sets me on edge. “Wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

I cross to him in quick strides, rising up on my toes to brush a kiss across his stubbled jaw. “I know, I’m sorry for just dropping by.” I search his aqua eyes, trying to read the emotions swirling in their depths. “Is everything okay? You seem...off.”

He blows out a breath, scrubbing a hand over his close-cropped curls. “It’s been a weird day, Sera. I don’t know what to make of it.”

A tendril of unease curls in my gut. “What do you mean? Did something happen?”

He casts a furtive glance back at the clubhouse before lowering his voice. “It’s Sassy. Her room’s cleared out, and no one’s seen her since last night. It’s like she just up and vanished.”

My heart stutters against my ribs.

Sassy’s gone?

This only means one thing—I’m right on the money.

Sassy is the rat.

The pieces click into place with sickening clarity.

The way she’s always watching, listening, skirting the edges of every conversation.

How she deflects any questions about her past with a wry smile and a quippy non-answer.

And now she’s disappeared like smoke on the wind.

Realization hardens in my veins, cold and sharp as a dagger.

I grab Abe’s arm, my nails biting into his skin.

“Listen to me, I don’t think Sassy left of her own accord.” I glance around, lowering my voice to an urgent hiss. “I think she was a rat. A mole, feeding information to the club’s enemies.”

His eyes widen, shock and disbelief warring across his chiseled features. “What? Sera, that’s a bold accusation. Are you sure?—”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” I cut him off, my tone brooking no argument. “We need to tell Damon and Dixon. Now.”

He hesitates for only a heartbeat before giving a grim nod. “All right. Come on, they’re both in Damon’s office.”

The heavy thud of our footsteps echoes through the clubhouse as we make our way to Damon’s office.

My heart pounds against my ribs, a potent cocktail of adrenaline and dread coursing through my system.

Abe raps his knuckles against the door, the sound sharp and urgent. “Damon, Dixon. We need to talk, now.”

A muffled curse, then Damon’s gruff voice. “Come on in.”

We slip inside, the room thick with the haze of cigarette smoke and tension.

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