Chapter 29

William

That night, I could feel myself shutting down. The moment we walked into our suite, I didn't need to join in the usual post-show banter. I didn't need to crack open beers or let the tension slip away the way I usually would. Instead, I immediately pulled up my computer, fired up my phone, and began digging.

It's a skill I've picked up from my mum, even if it wasn't directly her advice. She's a cutthroat lawyer, always on top of everything, keeping things tight and organized—never leaving anything unexamined. The way she digs into things, how she goes down rabbit holes until she gets all the details. I've inherited that. I might not be a lawyer myself, but I've learned to keep things close, my thoughts, my intentions. And when something doesn't sit right, I don't let go.

The suite is buzzing with the usual post-event energy, but all of it feels distant now. My fingers are already on the keyboard, my mind focused, shutting everything else out. I scroll through search results with a sharp, focused intensity that I rarely bring to anything that isn't music.

Jules... she's been struggling. And it's been bugging the hell out of me. I try to shake it off—let myself get caught up in the crowd—but I can't. The more I see her pulling away, the more I know something's wrong. And tonight, I'm not letting it go.

I click through a few more pages, mentally crossing off the useless links. The data doesn't make sense yet, but that's the thing with stuff like this: it's always a matter of finding the right thread. The right detail. A small lead, a crack, something they missed.

"Whip, you okay over there?" Libby's voice cuts through the static, and I realize I've been hunched over the laptop for way too long without saying anything.

I lift my head slowly, not looking at her directly. "Yeah, just working on something." My voice is a little sharper than I intend, but I don't apologize. It's been a weird night, and I'm not in the mood to explain.

She raises an eyebrow but doesn't press, turning back to her conversation with Killian. He catches my gaze for a second and opens his mouth, like he's going to ask something, but then shuts it.

Scottie's different, though. He's never one to leave a problem alone, especially not when it's me. He sits up in his chair, studying me like I'm some puzzle he's trying to piece together.

"William," he says quietly, his voice steady, "you've been acting off. What's going on?"

The way he says it makes my stomach tighten. I don't want to do this here. Not with everyone looking at me like I'm the one hiding something. But I know Scottie won't back off until I give him something. So, I try to keep it cool.

"Nothing, man."

Scottie doesn't buy it. He leans in, his gaze piercing. "We both know that's not it."

I sigh, trying to keep my voice calm. "I'm just looking into something... for Jules. Just trying to figure some stuff out."

That gets people's attention—Jax and Rye both stop talking and look my way. Their expressions curious about the growing tension in the air. They know Jules means something to me. More than something. But I'm not about to let them know how deep this is going. How much I've been digging. How scared I am for her.

Scottie is quiet for a beat before speaking again, his voice less accusatory, more... cautious. "Whip, whatever this is...you need to be careful. You can't do this alone."

I freeze, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Careful? Alone? The words lodge in my chest, heavier than they should be. My gaze snaps to his, sharp as a blade. "You've been dancing around this ever since I mentioned it, Scottie. If you've got something to say, say it. Otherwise, why the hell should I be more careful?" My voice comes out cooler than I mean it to, but I don't take it back.

Scottie doesn't flinch. For a brief second, I almost see a flicker of something in his eyes. Worry?

"You don't see it, do you?" He steps closer, lowering his voice even further, like he's trying to make sure no one else can hear. The guys are still scattered around, catching up, but the atmosphere shifts around us. "Whatever you're digging into—it's bigger than you think. And you're not the only one in danger here."

The sharpness in my tone deepens. My hands slam the laptop closed as I glare at him head on. "Sounds like you know something about it, but you've been holding back. What aren't you telling me?" I feel all eyes on us, our friends no longer pretending not to notice. Their attention snaps to Scottie and me, watching it all unfold.

Rye's the first to react, his gaze sharp, a flicker of disbelief flashing across his face. "Whip," he drawls, the warning unmistakable, laced with something almost like concern. This isn't just a heated conversation—this is uncharted territory. No one in this band has ever gone head-to-head with Scottie like this. And definitely not me. The easygoing, always-smiling drummer.

The space between us crackles with unspoken tension. I see the way Scottie's fingers twitch, like he's fighting the urge to say too much—or maybe not say enough.

"You think you're the only one who's noticed things have changed?" Scottie says, his voice dropping low, but there's a quiet anger under it now. It sends a jolt through me. "I've been watching, too. I'm trying to protect you. You have no idea how deep this shit goes. You don't want to drag us into it."

"Protect me?" I repeat, incredulous as I stand and step toward him, closing the distance with a controlled, deliberate stride. "From what, Scottie?" I shake my head, my mind racing. "I don't need you protecting me. I need answers." Goddammit, I need to know what the fucking hell's going on.

Scottie's eyes narrow, shooting daggers.

"I promised her, Gabriel." My voice is raw, teetering on the edge of desperation. "I told her we had her back—that I had her back. That no matter what, she wouldn't be alone." My chest heaves as I force the words out, my hands clenching at my sides. "So if she's in danger, I swear to God, I need to know. Now."

Before Scottie can respond, Rye's usual laid-back image is now laced with an unexpected seriousness. He quickly approaches, positioning himself between us, his posture tense, hands raised in a placating gesture. "Alright, alright, let's not do this here," he says, like a referee stepping in during a heated match. His eyes flicker between me and Scottie, a clear concern in them. "We're all on the same side, right?"

I don't answer right away, just locking eyes with Scottie. He looks like he's about to rip my head off. For once, I'm the one holding the ground. His fire burns, but I match it, my gaze sharp as steel. He's used to people backing down, used to being the one who intimidates. But this time, he's met with someone who doesn't give a damn. I'm not fucking scared of him. Not when I know something's wrong. Not when Jules and I are this deep into whatever the hell this is. I'm not backing off. Not even if it means going head-to-head with Scottie.

I've had enough of the bullshit, and I'm at my fucking tipping point. A second later, something in me snaps, and I couldn't help but let out a soulless chuckle, leaving a thin smile curl on my lips and earning Scottie's subtle surprise. The anger builds inside me until my eyes go completely expressionless, a fresh wall of ice forming behind them.

"I don't know." I tilt my head ever so slightly, the challenge in my posture unmistakable. "Are we, Scott?" My voice comes mistakenly gentle but so corpse cold, the words slicing through the air with a weight they shouldn't carry. But I don't fucking care. The frustration and the urgency have been building inside me for too damn long.

Scottie doesn't move, doesn't blink, his gaze locked on mine like we're two predators squaring off. His jaw tightens, that little tell that usually makes people back down. But not me. Not tonight.

"Just so you know," I murmur, my tone eerily calm, the smile still curling my lips—but there's nothing friendly about it. "If you want me to back off, you're going to have to rip me off this hill, piece by piece. Otherwise..."

My eyes stay locked, dead and unblinking. The smile fades. Whatever trace of kindness I have left is long gone, replaced by something far colder. I feel so utterly devoid of hesitation. I might even look a little deranged.

I don't need to raise my voice. I don't need to move. The message is clear.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Way."

The room holds its breath, the air thick with shock. Every gaze locks onto me, but no one dares to make a sound. It's as if they're seeing me for the first time—like they don't recognize me anymore.

Scottie freezes, his eyes narrowing to slits, a muscle in his jaw ticks like he's seconds away from snapping. The silence stretches taut, and I feel the weight of every pair of eyes in the room watching us, waiting to see who's going to make the next move.

For a long beat, we're locked in a standoff, the room so still it's suffocating. But then, slowly, I see it—the subtle slump of his shoulders, the smallest shift in his stance. The tension deflates, not entirely, but enough to feel like I've cracked something in him. "Fine," Scottie mutters under his breath, but it's enough. His voice drops lower, quieter, like he's weighing every word. "You're right. There's more going on here, William. A lot more than you're probably ready for."

I raise an eyebrow, leaning in just a little, not letting him off the hook so easily. "What do you mean?"

Scottie runs a hand over his face, then looks up at me, his gaze heavy with something I can't quite place. "There's a person who's been fucking with Jules, and they aren't the only one involved. There's more behind it. And I've seen enough to know it's not just your problem nor just ours. It's everyone."

The room is dead quiet as his words sink in.

"Why the fuck haven't you told me this already?" I growl, frustration building again, but this time with the force of something deeper, more dangerous.

Scottie doesn't flinch, doesn't back away. ""Because you weren't ready to hear it," he says, voice measured but firm. "You wanted answers, but you were too focused on Jules to see the bigger picture. This isn't just about her, Whip. It's about all of us. About everyone in this industry. And whether you like it or not, you're currently in the center of it all."

I exhale slowly, running a hand through my hair, processing. "So what now? We just... wait? You've known about this shit for how long and didn't think it was important to clue me in?"

Scottie looks away for a second, like he's trying to gather his thoughts before continuing. "I didn't know how deep it ran. I didn't know how far this was going to go. But it's more than just her. There's a whole operation behind this, and the more we dig, the more we're going to expose, the more we have to be careful. You think it's just threats? It's not. People are playing chess here, and we're the pawns."

I let that sink in, my fists clenching at my sides, the weight of it sinking into my chest. We're tangled up in something bigger than I'd thought. Something I wasn't prepared for.

Scottie locks eyes with me again, this time with a deeper resolve. "You can't take this on by yourself, William. You or Jules. It's not just your mess. And the sooner you understand that, the better."

I nod slowly, feeling the pressure mounting. I know he's right. But damn it, it's hard to let go of that feeling of wanting to fix everything on my own. I don't want to bring anyone else into this, but it's clear now that I don't have a choice. Not if we're going to get out of this unscathed.

Scottie's eyes analyze me, but then he nods, like he's finally given in to something—like he's ready to work with me. "We all need to be careful with how we move next. There's more at play here, and if we push too hard, we could expose ourselves to something we can't control. Trust me on that."

With that, Scottie turns, heading toward the exit. The room feels like it exhales with him, but the tension still hangs in the air, thick and suffocating.

The silence is deafening until Jax finally breaks it, his voice sharp with disbelief, the words tumbling out in disbelief. "That was crazy. No one challenges Scottie like that. Ever." His eyes are wide, flicking between me and the door where Scottie just disappeared. "What the hell just happened?"

Libby, still processing the scene, glances at me with a worried expression. "Whip... are you alright?" she asks me again, cautiously, but I don't even register the question. My mind's already five steps ahead, running the numbers, calculating everything in my head.

I feel the pull of my thoughts, the need to strategize, to plan, to make sure we don't lose ourselves in this mess. The guys are staring at me like they've never seen me like this, and I don't blame them. Hell, I barely recognize myself.

But now, I'm all business. Deadly focused and ready for whatever's next. I can feel the weight of the situation pressing down on me, and I know there's no going back. Jules might not see it yet, but I'm going to do whatever it takes to help her. No matter how far this goes, I'm not backing down. Whatever I have to sacrifice, whatever I have to face, I'll do it—because I'm not going to let her fall through the cracks.

Rye, standing closest to me, steps in with a hand on my shoulder. "You need us?" he asks, his voice gentle and careful.

I shake my head slightly, offering a tight smile that's not reaching my eyes. "Hold that thought. I'm thinking of a game plan." It's not the first time I've had to go it alone, but this time, I don't think I'll be able to. And I'm not sure I want to.

With that, I turn and walk out, the hum of the room fading as the weight of their stares press into my back.