Page 132 of Monk

Kansas nodded. “I get it,” he said. “And I’m not asking you to be a party to anything illegal. I’m asking you to represent us when we need legal counsel. To protect us when the law comes after us. To make sure we don’t get railroaded by cops with vendettas and Feds with agendas.”

Lina was quiet for a long moment, then she said, “I can’t defend illegal activity. If I know about a crime before it happens, I’m legally obligated to report it. If I help cover up a crime, I can be disbarred. Or worse.”

Kansas grinned. “Got it,” he said. “Ask for forgiveness, not permission.”

Lina’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I meant,” she said, her voice sharp. “And you know it.”

The room erupted in laughter.

Even Widow cracked a smile as Kansas held up his hands, still grinning. “Alright, alright,” he said. “I hear you. We’ll keep you in the dark about anything that could get you in trouble. But when shit hits the fan—and it will—we need you in our corner.”

Lina looked around the table, her gaze moving from Kansas to Blackjack to Whisper to Widow to Shadow, then she looked at me.

I met her gaze, unflinching.

Finally, she nodded. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

Kansas’ grin widened. “Good,” he said. “Now let’s talk about tonight.”

Lina explained everything. How she’d confronted O’Rourke. How she’d handed him the evidence. How she’d threatened to bury the station in lawsuits if they didn’t drop the charges.

The brothers listened in silence, their expressions ranging from impressed to furious.

When she finished, I leaned forward. “What was in the folder?” I asked.

Lina’s gaze shifted to mine. “Everything,” she said. “Bank transfers showing James Roberts paid Ruby Cooper ten thousand dollars. Text messages between Roberts and Ruby, coaching her on what to say to the police. Phone records proving Roberts coordinated with a woman named Sylvia St. James. And evidence that Roberts hired a registered sex offender named Marcus Lyle to actually rape Ruby—to make the allegations against you appear credible.”

The room went silent.

Completely, utterly silent.

Kansas’ face went pale. Blackjack’s jaw dropped. Whisper’s hands clenched into fists on the table. Widow’s expression turned murderous. Shadow just stared, his eyes wide.

“Hewhat?” Kansas said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“He hired a sex offender to rape her,” Lina repeated, her voice steady. “So that when the rape kit came back, it would show evidence of trauma and sexual assault. So that the case against John would look airtight.”

Kansas stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “That son of a bitch,” he said, his voice shaking with rage. “That fuckingson of a bitch.”

“He wasn’t just threatening Monk,” Lina continued. “He was systematically destroying him. All to force John back into WITSEC.”

I stared at her, my chest tight. I’d known Roberts was dangerous. I’d known he was willing to go to extreme lengths to maintain control. But this? This was beyond anything I’d imagined.

Kansas paced the room, his hands clenched into fists. “We need to deal with this,” he said. “We need to?—”

“No,” Lina said, her voice sharp.

Kansas stopped and turned to look at her. “No?” he repeated.

“No,” Lina said again. “You let me handle Roberts. Legally. Through the courts. If you go after him, you’ll give him exactly what he wants. A reason to come after the club with everything he’s got.”

Kansas stared at her for a long moment, and then he nodded slowly. “Fine,” he said. “But if he comes at us again.”

“He won’t,” Lina said. “Not after I’m done with him.”

Kansas exhaled slowly, then looked around the table. “Alright,” he said. “We’ve got enough to deal with tonight. The ATF arrest is still hanging over us. We need to figure out how they knew about the run. And we need to make sure this doesn’t blow back on the club.”

He looked at me.