Page 11 of Peak’s Code

The room emptied slowly. Captain was the first to leave, barking orders before the door had fully opened. "Nobody breathes a word of this outside this room."

"Lock the gates,” he told Warden. “And double the dock patrol. Get every prospect on the road." The clubhouse exploded into controlled chaos beyond the hallway. Boots pounded across worn wooden floors, and engines roared to life outside.

For the first time since she'd been dragged into the Grave Prowlers clubhouse, Maeve felt guilty. She hadn't wanted this. She'd wanted someone to listen; instead, she'd handed an entire motorcycle club a reason for going to war. The only people who benefited from wars were the ones selling weapons—or women.

The room grew quiet again, and only Peak remained. He stood near the doorway, laptop tucked beneath one arm, watching her with those impossible gray-blue eyes. He wasn’t suspicious of her motives anymore. He just seemed more curious.

"So—” Maeve broke the silence. "Am I still your prisoner?"

Peak leaned one shoulder against the doorframe. "I haven't decided yet."

She smiled. "I thought Captain already had."

"He did,” Peak said.

"Well, if he doesn’t think I’m a threat, why haven’t you made up your mind about me?” she asked.

He shrugged. "I don't always agree with Captain."

That surprised her. "I thought motorcycle clubs ran on orders."

"They do,” he said.

"Then why are you going up against your leader?” she asked.

"Captain is my Prez, but he also expects us to think for ourselves." He pushed away from the wall and crossed the room. When he stopped in front of her, he crouched until they were eye level. "You lied to me."

She didn't bother denying it. "I omitted things."

"You told me you weren't law enforcement."

"I'm not,” she insisted, because that was basically the truth.

"You neglected to mention you're a hacker."

"I was waiting for you to figure it out,” she said.

"I figured it out,” he breathed.

"I know."

The corner of his mouth twitched. It was almost a smile. "You baited me."

"I needed your attention,” she insisted.

"You had it."

"No." She shook her head. "I had your curiosity, and those aren't the same things." Peak considered that for a moment. She wasn't wrong. He'd walked into the interrogation room expecting to poke holes in her story. Instead, she'd spent twenty minutes quietly dismantling every assumption he'd made about her. It was annoying, and strangely impressive.

"You really worked cybercrime?" She nodded. "For who?"

"I signed enough NDAs that I'd rather not test them,” she mumbled.

Peak chuckled. "So government."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to." He stood and began pacing slowly around the room. Maeve watched him. Unlike most people, Peak thought while he moved. Every turn, every pause, every glance toward the ceiling. His brain never stopped working. She recognized it because hers worked the same way.