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"I'm not giving you permission to take a fucking nap every Friday," Bullet says. "You're not paid to sleep."
"Other cultures do it. Ever hear of a siesta? Besides, it'd only be for an hour or four."
"Then do us all a favor and move to Spain, you ass," Rook snaps. "Striker, answer me: why am I awake and why am I here?"
"Tell me about Dani, Owen. Is she safe?" Dixon asks.
I look at Rook first. "You're awake and here because this threat involves all of us." Then I look to Dixon. "Dani's safe. For now."
"For now? I don't like those words, Striker."
I look at my friend, the man who saved my life, the person I love as a brother, and try to put as much compassion into my words as I can. "Dixon, you're going to want to sit down for this."
Sensing the weight of what I have to say, he grabs a folding chair and sits.
Then I take a breath. Slow, deep, like I'm about to jump into live fire, and I explain everything — the Santoro Syndicate's dark intentions, the impending alliance with the Vertucci Mafia. My words hang heavy in the air, met with grave faces. Rook's eyes narrow, Bullet clenches his fists, and Thunder's jaw sets firm.
Near the end, overcome with raw fear for his sister, Smokey stands and begins pacing.
"She won't leave?" Ghost says, speaking up for the first time. His voice matches his name. It’s raspy, phantom-like. "There must be something compelling her to stay."
"Yeah, it's called love for her friends," I retort.
Smokey steps forward, his voice firm yet laced with concern.
"Owen, you promised to keep her safe. You owe it to her, to me, to us all." His piercing gaze holds mine, a silent plea clear in his eyes. "Get her out of there. Why have you let things come to this? You promised me. I fucking saved your life, man."
The truth slips out, raw and unguarded. "Dani and I... we've fallen for each other."
The confession hangs between us, a tangible shift in the atmosphere.
Smokey's eyes widen, a mix of shock and hurt flashing across his face. "You what?"
"I love her. She loves me."
Rook murmurs. "Fucking hell. You really know how to cock things up, Striker."
Smokey's voice is stern, his words a mixture of command and desperation. "If you care about her, you'll do what's right. Get her out, Owen. It's what a brother would do." His words cut deep. "Unless you no longer consider us to be brothers?"
"No longer brothers?" I murmur. It sears my soul to even hear that. His words echo in my mind, a painful clarity washing over me. Love has blinded me, made me forget my duty, my promise, my loyalty. Protecting Dani is more than a vow to a brother — it’s my obligation, the reason I'm still alive.
"You need to decide, Owen," Smokey says. "Where do your loyalties lie? Are they with me and your club? Do you still hold to your word? Or have you just decided that doesn’t matter anymore?"
I've never been so challenged.
I look around the room, at the faces of my club brothers and the man who, until this moment, I considered my brother in everything but blood. Now, that's being put to the test.
Everything I am and everything I believe depends on my answer.
"I keep my promises, Dixon. I'll get her out of there."
"Whatever it takes," he says, grabbing my shoulder and staring into my eyes with unwavering trust. "I don't care about anything else. Hell, if you love her and she loves you, fine, that's great, and I'm happy for you both. But I don't want my little sister killed by those Mafia assholes. If you need to kidnap her to get her out of there, then you do it. It's for her own good."
"I'll do it, Dixon. Don't worry." I nod and look at my club brothers and find similar support in their eyes.
"Good. Now that we know the Santoros are involved and shit may go down tomorrow, we'll make preparations," Bullet says. "We have to be ready for anything."
"And we'll join you. Many hands, light work, like that old saying goes," Ghost adds.
