"You're not in business with anyone," Locke growls, his voice carrying the dangerous weight of a predator cornered. "Vane doesn't own s**t on paper. That was the whole point of him using Knox as a front man. But you're right about one thing: the Howlers know where that money came from, and they know what's at stake."
He exhales a heavy, grim breath.
"That's why I was at the clubhouse this morning," Locke says. “Our boys picked up movement in the Howlers' inner circle. Knox’s blood wasn't even cold before Grit Sterling stepped up to claim the president's patch."
"Grit?"
“Yeah. Knox was a greedy bastard, but Grit? Grit is an absolute f*****g psychopath.”
“Psychopath how?”
“He’s spent the last five years acting as the Howlers' VP and Enforcer, cutting throats and burning down competitor
