Page 131 of Monk

Kansas stood near the bar, his arms crossed, his expression dark. When he saw me walk in with Lina, he straightened. “Church,” he said, his voice cutting through the noise. “Officers only. Now.”

The brothers quieted, their gazes shifting to Kansas. “Everyone else, sit tight.”

I glanced at Lina. She was standing near the bar, her arms wrapped around herself, her expression distant. “Stay here,” I said quietly. “I’ll come get you in a minute.”

She nodded, her gaze flicking to mine. “Okay.”

I turned and followed Kansas toward the church room.

The church room was already filled with tension when I walked in.

Blackjack was leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Whisper sat to his right, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists on the table. Widow stood near the wall, his arms crossed, his gaze cold and calculating.

And then Shadow walked in. Smiling.

Actually fuckingsmilingas he took his seat at the table, leaning back casually, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Kansas stared at him. “You want to tell me why the fuck you’re smiling right now?” Kansas asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Shadow shrugged. “Because we’re fine,” he said simply.

Blackjack leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “The ATF raid is all over town,” he said. “Every news station, everyradio broadcast. They’re calling it a ‘major operation against organized crime.’”

Several brothers scoffed. Widow muttered something under his breath that sounded like “fucking pigs.”

I looked at Blackjack, raising an eyebrow.

He met my gaze and gave a single, subtle nod.

The guns are safe.

Relief flooded through me, sharp and immediate.

The weapons cache hadn’t been seized. Whatever Blackjack, Trigger, Shadow, and Judd had done with the shipment, it had worked.

Kansas exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Good,” he said. “That’s one less problem.” Then he turned to me. “Go get Lina,” he said. “We need her in here.”

I nodded and stood, walking out of the church room and back into the main gathering area.

Lina was still standing near the bar, a beer in her hand, her expression tight. When she saw me, she straightened.

“Kansas wants you in church,” I said.

Her eyebrows rose. “Church?”

“Yeah.”

She set the beer down and followed me back toward the room. When we walked in, every head turned toward her, and Kansas gestured to an empty chair near the table. “Sit,” he instructed.

Lina hesitated, then sat down, her hands folding in her lap.

Kansas leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his gaze locking on hers. “I want to make this official,” he said. “I want you to be the club’s attorney. Full-time. On retainer.”

Lina’s eyes widened slightly. “Kansas?—”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Kansas interrupted. “You’re worried about defending illegal activity. You’re worriedabout your license. You’re worried about crossing lines you can’t uncross.”

Lina’s jaw tightened. “Yes,” she said. “I am.”