The words hung in the air like shrapnel. Even Stone flinched, feeling it rip straight through the room.
Titus’s jaw tightened. His voice came low, gravel threaded with guilt. “I should’ve finished it. I didn’t. And now Tatum’s made it his mission to finish me instead.”
Walt leaned in, eyes burning. “So, he wears Titus’s face. Every crime, every whisper, every knife in the dark—he brands it with Titus’s name. He wants to erase him. That’s the game you’re playing without even knowing it.”
Dave’s expression didn’t shift, but his knuckles whitened against the desk. The photo of the triplets lay between them—proof and accusation both.
The scanner beeped again, Sage’s laptop spilling lines of data across the screen. Thunder cracked over the estate, sharp as a gunshot.
“One thing,” Sage said, eyes flicking to the readout. “Tanis’s post-mortem photo doesn’t match the other two. He had brown eyes—contacts, according to the coroner—and wore his hair differently.”
“Tanis wanted to stand apart,” Titus rasped. “Tatum takes pleasure in looking exactly like me.”
Viper’s jaw flexed. “How the fuck would he know what you look like—unless you’re in contact with him?”
Titus drew a slow breath. “I think I’ve got a mole in my group.”
Before Viper could respond, Sage cut in. “Couldn’t find much on Tatum, but this man’s prints come back as Titus Brown. FBI database lists several aliases—Titus Quinn, Titus Smith. I can’t confirm if he’s the one from San Pedro.”
“It wasn’t me,” Titus said.
Dave’s gaze never left Titus. His voice came flat, hard. “We’ll see.”
The air stilled in the aftermath. Every man in the room was coiled tight, waiting for the spark that would send them all lunging.
Dave broke it. “Uncuff him.”
Viper snapped his head around. “The hell we will—”
“Now,” Dave cut in, voice quiet but iron.
Law stepped up, and the cuffs clicked open. Titus rubbed at his wrists, red marks stark against his skin.
“I thought about joining your forces,” he muttered, throwing a scathing look at Viper. “That’s why I’m here. But now I’m not so sure.”
“Screw you,” Viper snapped back.
“Quiet,” Dave said, and everyone froze at the clear annoyance in his voice.
If what Titus said was true and his brotherwasthe perp they were after—Titus could get them to Franklin and ultimately Tatum.
Rain hammered the windows, gusts rattling the frames as the room fell into a weirdly suspended silence.
“So, we are what now? Going after someone named Tatum?” Law broke the quiet.
“Like Dave said, we will see,” Stone said, turning toward a noise outside in the hallway.
“Yeah, this could be a ruse to throw us off,” Viper growled, earning a scowl from both Titus and Walt.
The noise at the war room’s door drew Stone’s gaze, and four men stepped through the doorway, and the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Ace Gray led the way, authority dripping from every line of his towering frame. Dark stubble shadowed a jaw cut sharp as stone, steel-blue eyes sweeping the room once and missing nothing.
Most of the men stiffened at the sight of Pegasus—not out of fear, but rather respect because the unit had that effect.
At Ace’s flank was Jacob, lean and coiled, curls tumbling over his forehead, dimples at odds with the fierce blue gaze that pinned Titus like a knife. His fingers twitched as though he wanted something in them—blade, pistol, didn’t matter.
Behind them, Owen shouldered in, broad chest and scruffy jaw, husky voice carrying as he ordered the stragglers outside toclear the hall. Tattoos inked the edges of his collar, promises of violence just under the skin.
