Page 67 of Carver’s Crusade

A cold knot forms in my stomach.

Carver’s arm settles across the back of my chair, solid and reassuring.

“How?” Lenora asks.

“We know they’ve been covering for each other,” Shield says. “Every time one of them hurts somebody, the others provide alibis. So we trap them all in a box together.”

Babe nods slowly. “We force ‘em into a situation where they can’t give each other alibis.”

“Exactly.” Shield glances around the table. “We set up another scenario at a bar. One of us watches for Tony or one of his friends to target a woman. Once they make their move, we follow them back to the house and invade it.”

Min grimaces. “Risky.”

“Yeah,” Shield agrees. “But it’s the cleanest way to break the whole group.”

I stare down at my plate, appetite fading as images flash through my head. Tony dragging that woman through the parking lot. His hand grabbing me outside my apartment. The look in his eyes.

Predatory.

Min taps one black-painted nail against her coffee cup. “You’re forgetting something.”

Shield looks at her. “What?”

“We need bait.”

The word settles heavily across the table.

Min shrugs when nobody immediately responds. “These guys hunt women. So give them women to hunt.”

Carver’s jaw tightens instantly. “No.”

“It makes sense,” Min argues calmly. “We need women Tony and his friends haven’t seen around the club. Izzy can do it. She and Smoke are due back this morning.”

Jenna, who is clearing off the table, chimes in. “I can do it.”

Shield is shaking his head before she gets the words out. “You’re not doing it. I won’t put you in danger.”

Before anyone else can speak, Jinx steps forward carrying a fresh pot of coffee.

“I can do it.”

Every head turns toward her.

Shield frowns. “Jinx—”

“I’m serious,” she interrupts. “I’m new here. They won’t recognize me.” She sets the coffee pot down calmly. “And I know how to take care of myself.”

At the next table, Byte straightens in his seat immediately, concern flashing across his face. “No fucking way.”

But Jinx doesn’t back down.

She folds her arms across her chest and lifts her chin slightly. “I’m not helpless. If these creeps think they can grab me, they’re gonna regret it.”

A strange mix of admiration and fear twists inside me as I look around the table.

Nobody argues that Tony Martin is dangerous anymore.

Now they’re preparing for war.