Page 12 of Chaplain

Over the next hour, I dive back into the encrypted files I've been slowly decrypting - financial and communication records from the rival Iron Demons motorcycle club. It's tedious work, made more frustrating by my lingering headache and distracted thoughts.

But I force myself to stay focused, meticulously combing through bank statements and coded Ledger entries. These guys are involved in something big; I can feel it. I just need to find the proof.

Finally, deep in an obscured transactions ledger, I find it - records of large, regular payments coinciding with drug and weapons shipments I uncovered last week going across state lines. My pulse quickens as I follow the paper trail - undisputable evidence of the Demons' illegal trafficking ring.

Adrenaline sobers me as I compile the records. This is bigger than we realized. The Demons aren't just moving some contraband on the side - they're running a full-scale organized crime operation with partners. I've uncovered hard proof of felonies that could bring them down for good.

With trembling hands, I print the evidence and go to Ronnie's office. I have to share this with leadership right away.

Ronnie looks up, eyebrows raising when he sees my agitated state. "Everything okay, Eden?"

"I think I found something big," I say in a rush, spreading the papers across his desk.

Ronnie scans through them, slow anger building in his eyes as he takes in the extent of the Demons' crimes spelled out in black and white. He picks up his phone and shoots off a text.

Moments later, Diesel strides in. My stomach drops at the sight of him. I focus on the papers, quickly summarizing my findings, avoiding his probing gaze.

Diesel crosses his arms, expression stormy as I lay out the evidence of the Iron Demons' illegal trafficking ring. "This is bigger than we thought," he says gruffly when I finish. "You did good, Eden."

I bob my head, cheeks flushing at the praise. As Diesel and Ronnie discuss their next steps, I can't ignore the warm spark of pride that I found what the Dark Angels need to bring down their rivals. And that Diesel noticed, despite everything.

"I need a copy of everything you have on the Demons, Eden. Down to the smallest detail, if you've found it, I want it on my desk today."

I nod. "Not a problem."

Ronnie turns to Diesel. "Gather a team to dismantle the equipment room. Once Eden is finished, take the gear to the shop and destroy it."

"Wait! Don't destroy everything yet. Some of this could still prove useful." My chest tightens at the thought of thousands of dollars of customized equipment becoming junkyard clutter.

Ronnie stands and shuffles the paperwork into a pile. "It can also lead the Demons back to us." He glances at Diesel, who says nothing as he takes my arm and guides me to the door.

Diesel's grip on my arm tightens as he steers me out of Ronnie's office.

"Diesel, wait," I dig in my heels. "That equipment took me weeks to set up and customize. There's no need to demolish it all. I can wipe the drives and reformat everything, so it's untraceable. Let me keep what I can salvage, at least."

Diesel's jaw tightens, avoiding my pleading eyes. "Forget it. Ronnie gave the order. It's all getting destroyed."

"But I spent so much time-" I argue desperately.

Diesel whirls on me, eyes flashing. "You did the job we hired you to do. Now it's time to take your money and forget about this place."

His harsh words sting. Before I can muster a response, he strides off, his meaning clear - there will be no appealing this decision. Shoulders slumping in defeat, I watch him disappear around the corner and shout the demand to take my equipment and any sense of belonging here with him.

I do as Ronnie says and set to work printing out everything I've found and making a backup copy on a thumb drive. It's normal for jobs to end this way. All connections to my clients are severed after I've produced the results they need. But this time, things feel different. This time, I put too much of myself into the job, and the sting of being dismissed so uniformly runs deeper than expected.

A knock at my door makes me look up from the box I'm packing. Diesel steps in, his face unreadable.

"Time to go," he rumbles. "I'll walk you out."

I nod silently and lift the box, which he takes from me before turning for the door. I follow him out to my car without a word spoken between us. The short walk is weighted with emotion, and I can't help but think the hard line on his lips is meant to mask how hard he's struggling not to speak. I want to plead with him to drop the act and be honest with himself for once, but I know it's pointless now.

Diesel stops at my car as I unlock my door. "Someone will drop by your place later today with your final payment," he says gruffly.

"Okay." I avoid his eyes, afraid I'll betray the swirl of sadness and regret in my chest.

Diesel shifts on his feet. "You did good work here, Eden. Don't forget that."

As Diesel sets the box in my backseat, he pauses, surveying me with those piercing eyes. For a heartbeat, hope hangs in the air between us. He glances down at my lips, and I almost imagine he'll kiss me goodbye.

---