Page 28 of My Enemy Biker

Clint nods. "Then she's solid."

By five the trap's fully operational. Marsh will access it in the next twenty-four hours or he won't. We'll know tomorrow.

"We should head back," I tell Anna.

She closes the laptop she's been using, stands, stretches. I watch her body move and catalog it for later.

The ride to her property feels different. Settled. Her arms around me are familiar now instead of charged with newness. Natural.

This is what I wanted without realizing I wanted it. Coming home with her, comfortable in the silence between us.

We pull up to her place. She slides off, hand on my shoulder for balance. "Need to check the back cameras. Make sure they're still functional."

"I'll come."

We walk the path to where the access road crosses her boundary. Late sun through the trees. Quiet except for evening birds starting up. Then we round the bend and the tire tracks are obvious.

Fresh. Deep treads from heavy vehicles. Multiple sets.

Anna sees them the same moment I do. Goes completely still. She walks to the camera, and accesses the footage. I watch her face change as she scrolls.

"Three trucks." Her voice has gone flat. "This morning. Nine-fifteen. Two hours after we left for the clubhouse." She turns the phone. "That's Holt's truck. I saw it in the lot."

Fuck.

"The club needed to move equipment fast," I start. "Marrow's been watching main routes so Clint ordered—"

"You used my road." She cuts me off clean. "Without calling. Without asking. After we explicitly agreed on transparency."

"It was time-sensitive."

"I don't care." Her jaw sets hard. "We had an agreement. Twelve hours notice for planned use. Emergency use with immediate notification after. You promised me. Yet, this morning your club drove three trucks across my property and you didn't tell me until I found the tracks myself."

She's right and I know it. I should've checked in with her the moment I realized Clint had authorized the access. Should've called from the clubhouse. But I was focused on Marsh, on the leak, on club business, and her property agreement didn't factor into my immediate priorities.

That was the mistake.

"You're right. I should've told you."

"Yeah, you should’ve. Hours ago. Instead, I'm finding out from camera footage like some kind of surveillance report. Do you understand why that's a problem?"

"Yes."

"Do you? Because from where I'm standing this looks exactly like what I was afraid of. Club needs something, club takes it, you apologize after and expect that to fix it."

"That's not what happened."

"Then explain what happened."

"Clint gave the order while we were running the trap. Needed equipment moved on a route Marrow wasn't monitoring. I didn't know until—"

"Until when?" She steps closer, angry enough I can feel heat coming off her. "When did you find out?"

I try to calculate. When did Clint mention it? "Around three this afternoon."

"Three… When we were still at the clubhouse together." She laughs but there's no humor in it. "You had hours to pick up your phone and send me a text. 'Hey, club used your road this morning for urgent business, here's what happened.' Hours, Cain. You were sitting ten feet from me for two of those hours."

She's absolutely right and I have no defense that doesn't sound like excuses.