Page 76 of Ruger's Rage

I'm about to respond when the door swings open.

Ruger enters, his expression hardened, and undeniable rage right under the edge.

Bloodhound follows, his usual stoic expression replaced with something darker.

I don’t give either of them time to say a word. "What did you find out?"

Ruger exchanges a look with Bloodhound, something passing between them—almost like a question about how much to share.

"Don’t you dare keep anything from me," I press. "You promised to keep me in the loop."

His jaw tightens, but he nods. "Rookie's been compromised. Not intentionally, but the damage is done."

"By who?"

"A girl he's been seeing at college. Kinsey." His eyes meet mine. "She's Striker's daughter."

The bomb drops. "You have a cousin?"

"Technically. Never knew she existed until tonight." Ruger runs a hand through his beard. "Her mother was some clubwhore named Raven from Pittsburgh. Striker reconnected with them after his exile."

Ruger looks right at his Aunt Ellie. "I take it you didn't know about her either."

Ellie shakes her head. "Not for certain, but I thought he had some bastard kids out there somewhere."

"I have to admit, this was the perfect setup," Bloodhound interjects. "College girl seduces naive prospect, gets club intel straight from the source."

"Rookie had no idea who she really was," Ruger continues. "Just thought he was getting laid regularly by some nosey engineering student."

"Until recently," Bloodhound adds. "Girl started getting sloppy, mentioned her 'dad' appreciating the intel. Kid confronted her yesterday, found out the truth."

I process this, connecting the dots. "So Striker's been playing both sides? Using information from Rookie to hit the Vultures, then making it look like you did it?"

Ruger gives me an appraising look. "Smart and beautiful. What a dangerous combination, Darlin’."

"I'm not just a pretty face." The retort comes automatically, a defense mechanism I developed over the years from being underestimated. "What's the plan now?"

Again, there’s that look between them—surprise that I'm expecting to be included in the conversation.

"We're calling an emergency meeting with the Vultures' leadership," Ruger explains after a moment. "Showing our evidence that Striker's manipulating both clubs."

"Will they believe you?"

"They might not," Bloodhound says. "But the alternative is war. Neither side wants that right now."

"And Marco?"

Ruger's expression darkens. "That's a separate problem, but connected. We've got confirmation he's in town, staying at some luxury hotel in the center of Morgantown. The club will deal with the Vultures, and then I’ll personally deal with Marco. Okay?"

My stomach drops. "How do you know he’s in town?"

"We have eyes and ears everywhere, darlin'." He steps closer, hands coming to rest on my shoulders. "We'll handle him. But I need you to stay put for now."

"Will you at least tell me the plan?"

"When there is one." His honesty is both frustrating and appreciated. "Right now, we're gathering intel, figuring out his patterns."

"I should get some sleep," Ellie announces, standing abruptly. "It’s been a long night."

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