Page 12 of Finn's Future

Noah’s birth certificate. “Name’s Noah Kane,” I said evenly. “Father listed as Caleb Kane.”

The atmosphere shifted immediately.

Spider scoffed. “Paper don’t mean blood.”

“It’s a start,” Riot replied calmly.

Reaper picked up the paper and scanned it. “Dates?”

“They line up,” I replied. “Conception fits before Ghost passed.”

Keno looked at me hard. “You believe her?”

I thought about Kate curled protectively around Noah every night. About the panic in her eyes every time somebody knocked on the motel door and the way she barely slept unless she physically saw Noah beside her.

“Yeah,” I said finally, “I do.”

Spider grunted. “I’m still not buying it.”

“So, we test it,” Riot suggested. “Quietly.”

“And if she’s lying?” Spider asked.

Riot’s expression didn’t change. “Then we deal with it.”

“And if she’s not,” I said, “then her parents are trying to cash in on Kane blood.”

Murmurs rolled around the room. Reaper’s gaze landed on me.

“She’s your responsibility,” he said. “You stay on her. You arrange the DNA test.”

“Yes, Pres.” I folded the birth certificate and slid it back into my kutte.

A new voice spoke from farther down the table.

“But Lucy . . .” The prospect hesitated like he already knew he shouldn’t be speaking. “We never really talked about where she came from, Pres. Why would they ransom the baby to her parents?”

The room went dead still, the kind of stillness that means someone just stepped where they shouldn’t. Keno’s eyes widened slightly, Spider froze, and even Riot shifted a fraction beside Reaper.

Wrong question. Wrong fucking time.

Reaper didn’t answer straight away. Didn’t even look at him. When he finally moved, it was slow and deliberate, his gaze locking onto the prospect.

“You don’t need to know.”

The kid swallowed hard but pushed anyway. “I just meant, if her family’s got that kind of reach, shouldn’t we?—”

“They’ve got more than reach,” Keno muttered under his breath.

Reaper’s head snapped slightly towards him. Not enough to call him out but enough to remind everyone who was speaking. Then, his attention went right back to the prospect.

“Lucy walked away from that life,” he said evenly. “She doesn’t go back.”

The prospect shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, but people like that don’t just let someone walk?—”

“Well, they did,” Reaper cut in sharply, his jaw tight. “And she’s here. With me.” Reaper leaned forward slightly, hands braced on the table. “And no one in this room,” he said, voice low and deadly calm, “is dragging her past back through my door. Got it?”

The prospect nodded quickly. “Yeah, Pres.”