Chapter 19

An hour later, the skirmish was over—for now at least. We were exhausted, bloody and a few less men, but they were down a hell of a lot more than we were. After they surrendered, we'd allowed them to gather their fallen, then escorted them out of our territory with a warning to never fucking show their faces in our area again.

Afterward, I returned to the clubhouse, and Burdock met me at the door, stating, "We're moving in fifteen. Grab your gear. I'll brief you on the way."

I hadn't even had the chance to ask about Marlowe before he was walking away. I was shifting from being involved in a biker skirmish, to a black bag operation in a matter of minutes, my mind still on Marlowe. I grabbed a hasty shower to wash the blood off, then slid into my usual apparel of a black t-shirt and pants, that I reserved for assignments.

After twisting my hair into a long tail, I pulled it up and placed it back into its customary man-bun. Once finished, I slid my equipment bag over my shoulder and s