Page 94 of Property of Spike

“Have you found anything, Foster?” I ask, pacing the room.

Foster is now an official brother. To make the ruling legit, I had the officers vote to allow him to skip the prospect stage before fully initiating him in. It was a unanimous decision. Foster was voted in as an officer. Security and tech expert.

“Not yet,” he admits. “I’ve got feelers out, but it’s like he vanished into thin air. However…” He pauses, glancing down at his laptop. “I did find something interesting. Did you know his mother was working with Los Fantasmas?”

A sharp inhale from the doorway makes my head snap up.

Abby stands there, her face pale, her wide eyes filled with something close to fear.

“You okay, squirt?” I ask, my voice gentler now.

“Did you just say Los Fantasmas?” she whispers.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Tank growls, stepping up beside her. His protective instincts are on full display, but she doesn’t so much as glance his way.

“Los Fantasmas?” she repeats, her voice stronger now, as if just saying the name steels her resolve.

“Yeah,” Foster confirms, earning a glare from Tank. “Do you know them?”

Abby swallows hard. “I was kidnapped by one of their factions. Held hostage for a long time.”

A dark rage simmers in my gut as I close the distance between us, pulling her into my arms. “They’re all dead,” I remind her. “They can’t hurt you anymore, Abby.”

She exhales shakily against my chest but doesn’t relax. “You took out one faction, Spike. Just one. Los Fantasmas is the most powerful and influential Cartel in Mexico.” She lifts her head, her eyes locking onto mine. “They’re called the Ghosts for a reason.”

A heavy silence falls over the room.

“Does this mean Max is working for them, too?” Knuckles asks, his voice low.

“I don’t think so,” I say, stepping from Abby and gently shoving her into Tank’s arms. “Take her home.”

Tank doesn’t hesitate, guiding her from the room while she shoots me one last worried glance before the door closes behind them.

I exhale sharply, running a hand down my face. “Max said he hopes one day we’ll understand why he betrayed us,” I remind them. “But think about it. He saved Riley and handed us Chuck on a silver platter. His actions don’t fucking add up.”

“Maybe it has something to do with his mother,” Maverick suggests, leaning forward. “Where does she live?”

“As of two years ago? Nowhere,” Foster says. “She vanished. I can’t even confirm if she’s still alive.”

I let out a frustrated sigh and drop into my chair, rubbing at the tension building in my temples.

“Until we find Max and get some goddamn answers, there’s nothing we can do,” I admit. “But there’s something else. He also warned us not to trust Billy. If Max has ties to Los Fantasmas, then I’d bet my last dollar my damn cousin does, too.”

The room tenses at that.

“Until we get this shit figured out, we’re not accepting any jobs that take us across the border,” I say firmly.

Bones shifts beside me, arms crossed. “We already have weapons cleaned and ready to deliver,” he reminds me. “Runner and his team are set to leave tomorrow. It’s a two-hour ride to Tijuana before they head into Mexicali.”

“Fuck,” I mutter, sitting up. I’d been so focused on Max that I’d completely forgotten.

“Alright,” I say, jaw tightening. “Warn them of the increased risk. Anyone who wants to back out has the option. If we don’t have enough people to make the run safely, we’ll handle it ourselves.”

A few nods around the room, but the tension lingers.

What the hell has Max gotten himself involved in?

“I need someone running the tattoo shop,” I say. “They don’t need to be an artist. I just need someone to manage the store.”

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