Page 76 of Cole

I pulled her close, gripping her hips. My rage and anxiety were barely tethered. The image of her with a gun pressed to her temple was seared into my head, and I couldn’t get it out.

“It’s time to tell me what the fuck is going on with you. You show up in my bar, full of secrets… and you walk into my garage, and sit in my lap, and fucking lie to me. Tell me, Isabelle, or I fucking swear, you aren’t leaving here until you do.”

Her hands were still pressed to my chest, my heartbeat pounding against them. I wanted to hold her close and be reassured that she was safe, unharmed, still whole. But the time for burying my head in the sand about this woman had come to an end.

I used everything I had in me to pull away from her, placing a step between us.

She blew out a long breath. “You have a mole in the Harbor Hounds. Someone is plotting against you.”

“And you know this because?”

“I heard them. Tonight, they were plotting with Teddy, that guy from the rival club. They said they were going to put you in the ground,” she said, and a long tear dashed down her cheek, glistening in the moonlight.

I stared at her, my heart beating hard in my barren chest. This woman, brave and reckless and so fucking smart and beautiful, was crying for me. She was worried about me. Me. The forsaken.

I smoothed back her hair and ran my thumb up her smooth cheek to wipe away her tears. I should care more about what she’d revealed. A mole in the MC? It made sense, considering how much trouble we’d been having lately with what was usually run-of-the-mill business. Someone was trying to bring us down, or at least, challenge me. I’d put down a few coups in my time as Pres, but I had no clue who might be trying to fuck me over this time. Regardless, all I could think about was Isabelle, my little Goldilocks, crying for me. Throwing herself into trouble to save me.

“I’m not in the ground. I’m right here. I’m fine. Where did you hear this?”

She swallowed and stiffened. I felt the boundary then of her secrets. The things she’d been hiding since she walked into my bar, and my life. My heart.

This was it. Nowhere to go from here, but to confess all.

She wet her lips. “I heard it in The Clutch.”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“You weren’t at The Clutch tonight.”

She nodded slowly and took a deep breath. “I heard it. I wasn’t there.”

“Explain.”

“I dropped something that night you hauled me into the room behind the bar. My bag dropped and I guess it rolled out… I didn’t even know it was working. I swear, I haven’t been listening.”

“What rolled out? Stop dancing around it, Issy, and tell me the goddamn truth.”

“A bug. A listening device. It looks like a pen, I guess that’s why no one has found it⁠—”

I stepped back, her words taking me off guard. “You brought a listening device into my bar? On purpose?”

She nodded slowly. I could hardly believe this was reality. What was happening?

I waited, not trusting myself to talk just yet.

“I’m a journalism student, and I write for the HHU school paper,” she whispered. The words rent the air like gun shots.

I took in her words. A journalist? The parts of her that had never made sense suddenly slotted into place. A journalist. Yes. That tracked.

“I-I wanted to do a story on you and the Hounds. I thought you were involved in gunrunning…”

“Yeah, well done. You were fucking right, Goldilocks,” I growled out. My blood felt hot and sticky in my veins. I was mad. Pissed. Furious. And… disappointed. “So, should I expect to see my name in the headlines tomorrow?”

“No!” Her eyes were alarmed. “I was going to do a story on you, that’s why I came to the bar the first night, but I gave it all up. I don’t care anymore.”

“Why not? You must have gotten more than you need for your exposé tonight.”