There was a knock at the front door-a heavy, frantic pounding. Debbie jumped and Preacher rolled quickly out of bed, cursing.
"Goddammit," he muttered, stalking down the hallway. "I'm gonna kill whoever that is if they-"
Eva's cry rang through the apartment.
Still cursing, Preacher flipped the locks on the door and flung it open.
"Preacher!" Joe burst inside and grabbed Preacher's arms. His one eye was wild, and a light sheen of sweat covered his face.
"Why the fuck aren't you answering the phone?" he demanded. "We're in the middle of a fucking shitstorm! The Feds found the house in Greenpoint! Preacher, man, they raided it this morning! Killed two of Rocky's guys when they stormed the place!"
Pain flared hot in Preacher's neck, and his temples began to throb. He shoved Joe away. "Shit," he breathed, running his hand over his mouth and beard. "Fucking shit." He swallowed hard. "What about the others?"
Joe shook his head. "The other two guys got away. They made a beeline for Rocky, and now he's movin' all his boys outta the city as we speak."
"No, idiot, the other warehouses. Did the Feds find ‘em?"
"No, man, no. Everything else is solid. But … Rocky's pissed. He wants to move the-" Joe's mouth snapped shut, his eyes flicking to something past Preacher.
Glancing over his shoulder, Preacher found Debbie standing just outside the living room. Wide-eyed and pale-faced, she was bouncing Eva gently in her arms.
"They can't trace the warehouses to us," he muttered quietly, turning back to Joe. "We made sure of it."
"They can trace the fuckin' Road Warriors to us!" Joe hissed.
His headache worsening, Preacher grabbed Joe by his shirt collar and brought them nose to nose.
"Do you ever pay attention? The Road Warriors ain't patched in. All the Feds found was a couple nomads inside a warehouse. Owning a motorcycle and wearing a cut doesn't automatically make those men mine, does it? Greenpoint is gonna lead them to the Rossi family, and dead men don't tell tales. Worst case scenario, the Feds raid the clubhouse on a hunch, hoping to find a connection, and you know the worst thing they're gonna find? Tiny's fuckin' stash of special brownies."
Joe's shoulders slumped. "Jesus, Preacher … I thought we were up shit creek for sure."
Gritting his teeth, Preacher released Joe with a shove. They were still up shit creek. Never mind the Feds, Preacher's concerns lay with the Columbians. With the loss of the Greenpoint warehouse, the Silver Demons had just lost a great deal of product they'd been entrusted to move.
"Man, I don't get it." Joe kept his voice low. "We had that shit locked up tight. There's no way the Feds coulda found Greenpoint on their own … unless we can't trust Rocky, or fuck, what if it was one of our boys?"
Preacher's head all but exploded with pain. While massaging his temples, he wracked his brain, trying to think of when, or with whom, he might have screwed up.
"Preacher."
He turned to Debbie. Still holding Eva, she'd plastered herself against the wall. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"I'm s-sorry." Her lips trembled and her words shook. "I'm so sorry."
Preacher stared at her.
"I should have told you the truth." She continued to cry.
"Preacher?" Joe moved to stand beside him.
"Go downstairs." Preacher's tone was clipped and hard. "Wait for me there."
"But-"
"Now, Joe. Right fuckin' now."
Preacher stayed quiet until he heard the door close.
"What did you do?" he bit out, and when Debbie didn't respond immediately, he shouted, "What did you fuckin' do?"
Startled, Eva began to cry. Blanching, Debbie shrunk against the wall. "There were two agents!" she blurted out. "And they told me-"
"I don't give a shit what they told you!" he raged, advancing on her.
"They knew who I was!" she cried. "Preacher, they said they were going to send me home! They said they'd take Eva away! They-"
"Stop!" he roared. "Fuck!" Running his hands agitatedly through his hair, he turned away.
His eyes darted in every direction-he didn't know what to do, where to look, what to think. How had this happened? His girl had betrayed the club-shit, his girl had betrayed him. Adrenaline-fueled anger took root inside of him. His hands clenched into fists, and he spun around to face her.
"Whatever they said, whatever they threatened, you should have come to me first! Now two men are dead because of you, and if I can't somehow make back the money for everything the club just lost, I'm gonna be next!"