Bear
I called church. The noise in the clubhouse died like somebody had shut a valve. Laughter, pinball clacks, bottles—gone. The few who didn't move fast enough met Tank's look and found the hallway suddenly fascinating.
Rook was already by the door, arms folded, face a wall. The twins drifted in next, still smelling of smoke and fresh booze, eyes bright with whatever high they'd been riding. Tank filled the frame behind them, all six-eight and calm menace. Ghost folded into the corner like a shadow made human. Snipe kept the lot in his sightline; Morgue leaned on the far wall and looked like he could disinfect the whole world if he had to. Preacher stood by the table, hands clasped, listening like a man who's learned scripture and consequence both.
Tech came in last, tablet under his arm, and he looked like he'd swallowed something sour.
He set the screen down. "Got the files," he said. "You want it now?"
"Give me a minute." I nodded to the men, then turned on the room. "Go get Ace and the kid. They need to hear this." Prospects scattered. Rules aren't suggestions in my house—no one under eighteen in church unless it's the kind of emergency that stinks of bleach and blood. Kids should get to be kids. We owe them that.
When the boys came back I hit the gavel. The sound snapped a silence over everyone like a bell.
"I got something to say," I began. My voice stayed low on purpose—no drama, no fishing for sympathy. "This might already be known to some of you, but not all. After Ellen died—fourteen years ago—I fell apart. I wasn't the man I should've been." Heads dipped. They knew that history. That hurt.
"About a year after, a woman named Angelica showed up asking for protection. Pretty, young. Looked like trouble wrapped in pretty." I said it flat; no point dressing it up. Ash' face flicked. "I remember that bitch," he muttered and got a backhand from Rook for the timing.
"She and I… we spent some nights together." I let the words sit. Blaze snorted; Ash grinned for a second before my look put an edge on it. "When the twins caught us—kids shouldn't be in the clubhouse— they burned my house down." A few of them barked a laugh that had no joy in it. Rook smacked the boys' heads in the old way, quick and hard.
"I looked into her after the fire," I went on. "Needed to know who I'd let in. What I found—she'd been feeding info to my father, Undertaker. Spying on the club. Sleeping in my bed while slipping things to him. And she'd been moving pills to our members." The room shifted; you could feel the blood in their faces.
"When I found out, I kicked her out of the city. Told her not to come back. I never heard from her again." I said it like I wanted it to be the end of it. It wasn't.
Preacher's question was soft but pointed. "Why bring this up now?"
"Called today." My jaw tightened. "Turns out she was pregnant when I ran her out." Their reactions were immediate and sharp—anger, confusion, something like betrayal. Rook's eyes went cold. Blaze's grin snapped off. Even Ghost turned his head a fraction.
"She's twelve," I said. "At Cloverdale General. I need to go tonight."
"Why's she in the hospital?" Ash asked, cutting the air.
Tech didn't hesitate. He handed tablets around like you hand out cards before a fight. The room leaned in as screens lit their faces.
"Name: Sunny O'Hare," Tech read, voice steady. "Mother: Angelica Deline. Multiple hospital visits since age two—broken arms and legs listed as 'falls.' School flagged bruising. Tenth grade. Gifted program. A month ago, state police raided a house tied to trafficking. She was inside. Current injuries: two broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, broken ankle, cracked skull, signs of strangulation. Found naked; sexual assault kit collected. She woke up this morning. Asking names. Marlowe thinks there's payoffs in the Cloverdale PD. If she talks, the chain goes down."
Silence settled like a blanket over the table. No one moved until Tech killed the screen.
Rook was first to speak. "So she's dangerous to the wrong people."
"And they already tried to make her quiet," Blaze said, voice low.
"Our sister." Ash grunted.
"Wait. Did you say they ran a rape kit? How old is she?" Tank asked through grinding teeth. He was the product of rape and does not stand for abusing women.
"Yes and 12." Tech responded. "And they have evidence of assult."
Ace stands and walks out of the room. Joker followed.
The room errupted again. I pushed to my feet. The room blurred at the edges for half a second, like something important had shifted under me. I looked at the men I'd built this club with—my sons, my brothers—and felt the hard, cold part settle in my chest.
"Tank, Ash, Blaze, and Preacher Pack light," I said. "We move tonight."
They all nodded. No questions. That's how family does it when something soft and broken needs armor.