---

I rubbed the back of my neck as I listened to the shit pouring out of Bronze’s mouth. None of it was anything I wanted to hear.

I cut him off. “It’s fucking bullshit, Bronze. I want Nitro out of there, and I want you to find out what the fuck is going on with that now that Marx is dead.”

“I’m telling you, King, they’re not releasing him anytime soon. Ryland is gunning for you harder now than he ever was. He’s convinced you’re behind Marx’s death. And as for you getting in to see Nitro, forget it. They’re not letting anyone in to see him.”

Fuck.

Everything had turned to shit yesterday morning after Marx had been found dead in his cell. My visit with Nitro had been cancelled, as had Tatum’s for later in the week. The lawyer hadn’t been able to find out much, and then Billy had stuck his fucking nose in after Tatum involved him. I needed Nitro out of there fast.

“Why am I paying you, Bronze? If you can’t fucking do what I need done, I’m just sinking cash into a black fucking hole of no return. Get this shit sorted.”

I ended the call and slammed my phone down onto the desk. This day was going from bad to worse. After a failed lead on Romano’s whereabouts this morning and then one of my men being beaten up in his home, I could have done with some good news for once. The headache Lily managed to ease last night had come back full force.

“King, are you okay?”

I lifted my head to find Ivy standing in the office doorway, watching me with concern. Since her attitude towards me had thawed three days ago, she and I had engaged in a few conversations. I’d done my best to stay clear of her, but we ran into each other randomly, and she seemed to want to talk.

“Yeah. You?”

Her mouth pulled into a frown and she stepped into the office. “You don’t look okay.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face and blew out a long breath. Frustration over the whole fucking situation of her husband coming after my club caused me to lash out. “Yeah well, that’s because your husband is fucking with me. It’d make my life a whole lot fucking easier if you’d give me some helpful information about where the hell he is.”

The ice I’d managed to thaw days ago returned to her gaze. “I’ve told you everything I think would be helpful. Maybe you should just let me leave here and go find him for you.”

“You’re not leaving here until I know you’re safe, so don’t bring that up again,” I snapped, still unable to control my frustration.

“You make no sense half the time! Snapping and snarling all over the place, contradicting yourself. But then, that was always the case between us, so I shouldn’t expect any different.”

She thought I made no sense? If only she could have seen shit from my perspective, she would have understood the whiplash I’d felt over her actions. Fuck, it just reinforced that I’d made the right choice years ago. I decided to shift the conversation because we weren’t going to agree on this. “Are you feeling okay?” I’d checked in with Winter each day who kept an eye on her for me, so I knew she’d been recovering well.

The ice in her eyes frosted some more. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”

Jesus, we were going from bad to fucked-right-up. “Fuck, Ivy, did I seriously ask you what?”

“Were you implying that I wasn’t feeling well and that’s why I said you make no sense? Because I am feeling okay and that wasn’t—”

“When I ask you something, I’m not fucking hinting at something else.” I grabbed my phone and moved towards the door, crowding her. “We’re done here.”

She glared up at me. “Yeah, we are.”

I watched her as she walked away from me, wondering how the hell to best deal with this situation between us. The past was best kept there, and I would do that, but in the meantime, we had to co-exist under the same roof without these misunderstandings. But fuck, even when we were getting on, disagreeing with each other was our go-to move.

I exited the office as I continued to contemplate a solution; however, Axe met me on the way to the room we’d set up for surveillance, and interrupted all thoughts I had.

“I finally heard from my guy. Marx retracted everything before he died. They’ve got nothing on Nitro or the club as far as he’s concerned.”

“So they have no reason to continue holding him?”

“Not unless they have something else on him.” He paused for a beat. “There’s more, though, that isn’t good. They’re investigating Bronze for ties to the club. That’s why he hasn’t been able to access any information.”

Fuck.

“Have they got anything solid on him?”

“It appears so, but that’s not based on fact. It’s just the feel my guy got when he talked to his contact. I’ve asked him to keep searching.”

I stabbed at my phone, dialling Bronze. When he picked up, I cut straight to the point. “Sara sends her regards.” Our code to let him know he was compromised.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Twenty minutes.”

I ended the call and glanced at Axe. “I’ve gotta take care of this. I’ll be back in an hour or so. Let Hyde know.”

“Will do,” he said as I left him to return to my office.

Moving fast, I opened the safe and grabbed out the package I’d hoped never to need. I placed my phone in the safe and grabbed out my burner that wouldn’t signal my location to anyone. I then quickly made my way out to my bike and headed to the meeting point Bronze and I had designated years ago. It pissed me off that I had to let him go. But there was no way I’d leave him out in the cold with his dick swinging in the wind. Not after everything he’d done for me.

I’d started working with Bronze seven years ago after his wife, Sara, had been killed in a hit-and-run accident. I liked to deliver justice to those who killed that way, and I had, but not before I’d used what I’d learnt about the driver for my benefit. I’d known Bronze for about two years when his wife died. He’d investigated the club a few times and for some reason that was still unknown to me, he’d gone easy on me each time. So when I went looking for a cop to add to my payroll, Bronze had been my first choice. His wife’s death made it possible for me to convince him to say yes. I’d offered up the name of the killer and my assistance when he took vengeance, in exchange for his agreement to work with me.

“What the fuck’s going on, King?” he asked as he slid into the booth at the back of the noisy, out-of-the-way café where we’d started our working relationship all those years ago.

“You’re being investigated for ties to the club. I don’t have hard facts yet, but I don’t doubt it’s true. It also accounts for why you can’t get any information at the moment.”

He dropped his head into his hand and swore before looking up at me again. “So this is it then?”

I nodded. “Yeah.” Sliding the package I’d brought with me across the table, I said, “Here’s the agreed cash, burner, ID and list of contacts you can use to disappear.”

“I have to see Hailee—”

“No,” I said forcefully. “You need to walk out of here, get on a fucking train and get the fuck out of Sydney. And you need to never come back. They’ll fucking crucify you if they can prove the shit we’ve done over the years.”

“How the fuck can they prove any of that shit? Have any of your guys talked?”

I clenched my jaw, hating every fucking minute of this. “We have a rat, but I don’t know who yet. We’re working on that.”

“So you find him and you take care of him.”

“Fuck, Bronze, you of all people know it’s not that fucking easy. Sure, I can take care of him, but the damage has been done. You’re a target, and they won’t stop coming for you just because their source is dead. They’ll find someone else. They’ll investigate the hell out of you until they can pin something on you.” I leant forward. “You need to leave now, and you need to leave fast.”

His face morphed into a canvas of anger and bitterness. “I should never have—”

I stood, done with this conversation. “There’s no fucking point looking back. That shit can’t ever be changed. I’ll make sure Devil takes care of Hailee. And I’ll take care of Matty.”

I walked out of that café with a new, fiercer determination to find the motherfuckers who were intent on bringing down my club. And whoever was behind Bronze being targeted would die at my own hands. Slowly and fucking painfully.