Dark smoke rose into the sky like a warning sign.
Jax paced in front of what was left of the safehouse. The building was destroyed—burned to the ground. His hands were covered in blood and ash from pulling broken, charred wood out of the ruins. His jaw was tight with anger. Around him, his crew stood ready. Their guns were strapped to their backs, their eyes full of fury.
“They hit us where it hurts most,” Jax said, his voice rough and deep. “So now we hit them back. Hard.”
Wraith stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. “Want me to give you names?”
Jax gave a sharp nod.
“Start with Santiago,” Wraith said. “He’s the cartel’s guy in our area. Always watching. Always reporting.”
Nina lit a cigarette using the flames still burning in the wreckage. “They didn’t do this just for fun. They
