Lily hated closed doors now. Before the blizzard, a shut door meant privacy. Her room in her mom's quiet Aurora apartment. The hum of a cartoon from the TV. The smell of pancakes on Sunday mornings. Now it meant one thing. Danger on the other side. She sat cross-legged on the clubhouse den couch, clutching a stuffed bear— one of the bikers had won from a claw machine for her that morning. The TV played some kids' show, but she wasn't watching. Her eyes kept drifting to the hallway, where men with heavy boots and heavier expressions moved like shadows. Marcus sat beside her, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. He'd been quiet since Reaper stormed out after seeing the tattoo on the security footage. 'Word,' 'traitor,' had hung in the air like smoke nobody wanted to breathe.
Are we in trouble? Lily asked, voice small. Marcus forced his jaw to unclench. 'You're not,' he said. 'You're safe here.' What about you? The question landed harder than she knew. Wrench stepped in and shut it firmly behind him. His usual rough humor was gone, replaced by something more serious. TV off, he said. Lily obeyed. instantly, grabbing the remote and clicking the screen to black. The sudden silence made the clubhouse feel like a held breath. What's going on? Marcus asked. Wrench looked at both kids, then dragged a chair in front of them and sat down, forearms on his knees. You two need to hear this straight. No sugarcoating, he said. Someone try to get to you, Lily. Someone who knows this place. Knows us. Lily's fingers tightened around the bear.
The man from the car? We don't know yet. Wrench said. But whoever he is, he's not a stranger. Not to Reaper. That makes him twice as dangerous. Marcus felt his stomach knot. Reaper said it was someone he trusted. Yeah. Wrench sighed. Name's Colt. Been riding with us a long time. He was at Lily's birthday party last year. helped install the security system here, which is why he knew where we were blind. Lily's eyes filled with tears. Why would he do that? Daddy says family doesn't hurt. Family that's what makes it hurt the most when they do wrench replied softly. Marcus leaned back, heart pounding.
So Colt's the one who took her during the blizzard. That's what we're trying to figure out, Wrench said. Reaper's out with half the crew, tracking his route from the cameras. But here's where it gets messy. He reached into his vest, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, handing it to Marcus. It was a printed email. At the top was a logo for the Boulder Police Department. Detective S. Murray. Subject: follow-up, Sarah Chun homicide. Marcus skimmed it, pulse quickening. The message was brief. Found something in old files. Victim reported being followed by man with snake and dagger tattoo. Known associate of Outlaw MC in Denver. Name redacted in this copy, need in-person meeting. Marcus's vision tunneled. The tattoo. The same tattoo Colt wore on his wrist.
You're saying Colt was following Sarah, Marcus said, voice shaking. Before she was killed. That's what it looks like, Wrench replied. Reaper got that email an hour before we caught Colt at Lily's window. He was on his way to tell you when the alarm went off. Lily looked between them, confusion and fear mixing in her eyes. Who's Sarah? Marcus swallowed. She might be connected to my mom, he said. And to Reaper. And now to you. The room felt smaller, the walls closer. Listen, Wrench said, leaning forward. Colt was around when Sarah disappeared from Reaper's life. He was around when she got killed. He was around when Lily was taken. That's not coincidence. That's a pattern. Then why isn't he in handcuffs? Marcus demanded. Because he's smart, Wrench said. And because we don't have proof.
Yet. He stood, pacing once before turning back to them. Reaper's been trying to play this straight. Work with the detective. Keep you kids out of the line of fire. But if Colt's still coming after Lily, even after the blizzard. What? Marcus pushed. Then he's not afraid of storms, Wrench said quietly. Or cops. Or consequences. The floor creaked in the hallway. Voices flowed past the closed door, snatches of tense conversation, the clink of metal, the heavy sound of a shotgun being racked. Lily flinched at the last one, shrinking closer to Marcus. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Nobody's gonna take you, he said. Not while I'm breathing. Her head pressed against his side. Promise? Yeah, he said, and hoped the word would be enough to hold back everything trying to break through these walls.
The doorknob twisted. Lily tensed, but it was Reaper who stepped in, windburn on his cheeks, snow melting on his boots. His eyes flicked to Lily, then to Marcus, assessing. Counting. They tell you about Colt? He asked. Some, Marcus said. Wrench showed us the email. The tattoo. Reaper nodded once, jaw-tight. Then you know we've got two problems instead of one. He dropped a stack of photos onto the coffee table. Grainy still frames printed from different cameras. Colt at a gas station outside Boulder. Colt leaving a motel in Aurora. Colt talking to a woman whose face was blurred by motion. Marcus picked one up. In this shot, Colt stood near a playground fence somewhere in a Denver suburb, leaning on his bike. In the background, half hidden by distance, a little girl in a pink jacket, it played on the swings.
Lily's jacket. How long has he been watching her? Marcus asked, voice barely above a whisper. Longer than I want to believe, Reaper said. We think he's been circling both of you for months. Maybe longer. Lily's eyes were wide. But why? Did I do something wrong? Reaper dropped to one knee in front of her, taking her small hands in his big, rough ones. You hear me, Lil? He said, his voice rough. Nothing that's happening is your fault. Not a single thing. You didn't cause it, and you don't deserve it. Then why? Reaper hesitated. The answer was a knot he hadn't untangled yet, a web that stretched back through years of decisions and secrets. Because sometimes, he said slowly, 'People who feel small hurt other people to feel bigger.' Colts made bad choices for a long time.
This is just the worst one. Marcus watched him, something twisting sharp. This man, who the world said was all steel and fury, looked breakable when he talked to Lily. When he turned to Marcus, the softness in his face hardened again. 'I need your help,' Reaper said. Marcus blinked. 'Mine.' You survived on the streets for months, Reaper said. You know how people move when they're hiding. You pay- attention to details most of us miss. That's how you kept Lily alive in that storm. Marcus wanted to say no, to push this back at the man whose DNA he shared but whose life he didn't understand. Instead, he found himself nodding. What do you need me to do? Reaper slid a map across the table.