Three days passed without a single sighting of Raze or the Iron Vultures and somehow that silence felt worse than the fires and blood and threats combined.
Nobody called, nobody attacked, nobody left messages painted across walls.
It felt like the entire world paused waiting for something ugly to happen.
The clubhouse should have felt calmer because construction crews worked steadily again while bikes filled the property and music echoed through the garage most afternoons, but underneath all of it tension stayed wound tight enough to snap.
Everyone felt it. Especially Drake.
He barely slept anymore because every night he checked doors and windows twice before finally laying beside me in bed and every patrol route suddenly because twice as long because he insisted on adding more gu
