Page 82 of Mortify

"Tell her," Regnor says to Tor.

Tor glances around, then pulls out a folder. "Been going through the Patriot's financial records. Found something interesting about your ex."

My stomach drops. "What kind of something?"

"Payments. Regular ones, going back over a year. To 'DM' for 'information services.'" His eyes are hard. "The dates match up with MC activities that went sideways. That warehouse raid where we almost got ambushed? Two days after a payment. The time someone tipped off the cops about our gun shipment? Day after Dylan got paid."

The floor tilts under my feet.

"No," I whisper. "He's just a pot dealer. Small time?—"

"That's his cover, sure, but think about it—how would he really be able to afford living in that nice apartment of his if there wasn’t something else going on?" Tor continues ruthlessly. "Found more. Deposits into accounts that trace back to him. Payments for 'product distribution.' Your boyfriend wasn't just selling weed to college kids, Everly. He was moving the Patriot's fentanyl."

I'm going to be sick again.

"How many?" My voice sounds far away. "How many overdoses?"

"Too many, and you know he’s been targeting certain minorities."

Those people—college kids—dead because of drugs Dylan sold.

And I was sleeping next to him.

Carrying his baby.

"But there's more," Regnor says quietly. "Tell her about the photos."

"Photos?" I look between them.

"He was at the farm we hit during our raid," Tor explains. "Taking pictures. Professional camera, long-range lens. Documenting everything—faces, bikes, license plates."

"Evidence," I breathe. "He's gathering evidence."

"For the Patriot or the feds, we're not sure which." Tor closes the folder. "But either way, he's more than just an abusive ex. He's an active threat to the club."

"I brought him into our lives," I say numbly. "I'm the reason?—"

"No," Regnor cuts me off firmly. "He targeted you. This was planned, Everly. You were a mark from day one."

The truth of it hits me hard.

Every moment was a lie.

Every touch was calculated.

Every 'I love you' just another way to manipulate me.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

But this time it's not morning sickness.

This time it's the realization that I've been sleeping with the enemy for over a year.

That the baby inside me is the product of a relationship that was never real.

"Hey." Regnor pulls me against him. "Breathe. This isn't your fault."

"I should have known. Should have seen?—"

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