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“The fuck are we supposed to do with her?” Theo’s voice was hushed where River and his crew were huddled in the corner of the abandoned building down the street. “We can’t take her to the fuckin’ cops.”
She was across the room, shaking where River had wrapped her in a blanket.
“Obviously,” Otto said, frustration dripping from his tone.
River dragged both hands over his head. Knowing the situation he’d put his crew in, but that didn’t mean he felt any regret.
He’d do it a thousand times over.
Even if it meant he was going to jail for the rest of his life.
“How the fuck we’re going to keep her quiet is the question we should be asking,” Kane said.
It was Cash who spoke up from where he leaned hidden in the corner that halted the conversation. “We need to get her a new identity. She can’t exist anymore. She needs to disappear.”
“How the hell do we make that happen?” Theo asked.
Except we all knew.
Cash was Iron Owls’ hacker. The one who made whatever he wanted appear…or disappear.
Money.
Cars.
Mostly records of people the club had put in the ground.
“You can do that?” Otto’s brow twisted. “Fully do that, and she can start a new life?”
“Yeah. But that means she has to go all in. Accept that it means she is no longer Angela Burkin. And she can never say a fuckin’ word otherwise.”
“And you trust her to do that?” Skepticism poured out of Theo, and he was looking at River when he asked it.
River hesitated then moved. The woman flinched at his approach, though there was something in her expression that made him pressforward. He dropped to a knee in front of her, his voice soft. “You want a new life?”
She laughed like it was absurd. “What do you mean, a new life?”
“To start over. As a different person. We get you someplace else. Set you up. Angela Burkin no longer exists, and neither do we.”
He let his eyes convey what that meant.
His life was riding on this, too.
Her gaze dropped then she said, “I had no life. Maybe now, I can.”
THIRTY-THREE
CHARLEIGH
I blinkedmy eyes open to the filmy dimness of the room, nudged awake by the quieted movement in front of me.
During the movie, Nolan had slipped off his father’s lap and had climbed over to me and had snuggled into my side. I’d wrapped my arm around him, covered him with the blanket, and had held him while we’d watched the movie play out.
At some point, we’d both drifted to sleep, and I woke to him sleeping in my arms, his little breaths panted into my neck.
My heart beat steadily, slow and full, and I hugged him to me for a moment before I realized it was River who’d stirred me from sleep.
Carefully, he pulled a slumbering Nolan out of my arms and into his, and the child made a happy, unintelligible sound as he was picked up. River’s voice was a mere breath in the quiet as he spoke to me. “Stay right there, I’ll be right back.”
