Page 97 of Tempest’s Torment

Savage's jaw clenches. "They knew I was coming."

"They knew all of it," I say.

Everyone looks at me and I look at Ghost.

"They knew you called me. They knew I was leaving. They knew Savage was replacing me."

Ghost's face hardens.

"And they knew exactly who to send in his place," Rogue says.

Jinx looks at me. "I’m a prospect. I’m expendable."

"You're not fucking expendable," Savage snaps.

Jinx shuts up.

Ghost looks at Rogue. "Can they spoof numbers?"

"Yeah. That's the easy part."

"Knowing who to spoof isn't."

"No."

Which means they found a way to get close to us, or they’re monitoring us closely.

Ghost looks at me. "Same person who warned Webb?"

"Has to be."

"Not necessarily," Rogue says. "Webb had fifteen weeks of surveillance, maybe more. If he was watching the clubhouse as well as Lilah, he could've built out relationships, bikes, routines."

Savage shakes his head. "Doesn't explain knowing Ghost called Tempest this morning."

"No," Rogue says. "It doesn't."

Ghost goes quiet. I watch as he looks around the alley, taking everything in: the fire escape, Jinx, Lilah's phone in Rogue's hand, and then me.

"Nobody outside this club knows anything from this point forward." Rogue nods and Ghost looks at Venom. "Get Jinx checked out."

"I'm staying," Jinx says.

"Wasn't a request," Ghost tells him.

"I'm fucking fine."

"You've got blood running into your eye," Ghost says, raising a brow.

Jinx wipes at it. "Then give me a fucking Band-Aid."

Normally, somebody would laugh, but nobody does. Ghost looks at him for a moment. "Fine. Venom cleans you up. You stay here." Then he turns to Rogue.

"Traffic cameras?”

"Already pulling them."

"The recording?"