CHAPTER 11
THE KRAIT IN THE MIRROR
Snake Eyes never slept.
The lights were on. Phones active. Coffee never burned there. Pots were poured as soon as they were brewed.
Lane rolled in just before shift turnover.
Kode was behind the counter, ledger open, headset off.
Lane didn’t sit.
“You hear anything,” he said.
“Hey, Kount. Yeah, from Mundo, actually. Go fucking figure,” Kode said. “Caught some chatter last night. Nothing official—just a lot of movement. One name in common.”
“Luis?”
Kode didn’t answer right away.
“Yeah.”
Lane leaned a forearm on the counter. “Where.”
“Not where,” Kode said. “When. He’s not staying put. Reyes are bouncing him from one place to the next.”
Lane absorbed that.
“Who else knows.”
“Just you. Mundo is posting at County right now. Maybe you can get more details out of him when he gets back. Although Kait should be here any second and he turns to pudding around her. Can’t get a full sentence out. Poor bastard.”
Lane rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that seems to be the trend with all of you.”
Kode sighed. “She’s too fine.”
Lane scoffed.
“If you say so. Well, I’ll catch up with him then. Keep this quiet until I confirm.”
A bike engine cut outside.
Kode snapped the laptop shut and straightened instantly, grabbing a pen like it mattered.
Lane glanced at the laptop. “You’re a fucking nerd.”
Lane headed for the front door just as she opened it.
Kait stepped in.
Helmet under her arm. Side braid tight. Aviators still on.
They spotted each other immediately.
Lane slowed half a step.
Not surprised.
Just irritated.
“Hey, Kode,” she said flatly.
“Hey, Toast, what’s going on?” He said from the back.
Lane moved past her.
“Did you need something?” She said without turning.
Lane paused at the door. “Not from you.”
Kait scoffed and Lane left.
The door didn’t slam.
It didn’t need to.
“What did he want?” she said turning and watching Lane get on the Hardline.
Kode closed the ledger. “Just getting some info.”
“On what?”
“Luis.”
She turned quickly.
“Why? You know something?”
“Well, uh…,” Kode said. “Mundo heard through the cholo grapevine that Reyes is moving Luis around.”
“Did you tell him that? Where’s Mundo?”
“Yeah, Mundo’s at County posting. Kount is meeting him there to get the full story.”
Kait exhaled through her nose. Controlled.
“You think you can hold the fort for me?”
“You going to County too?”
“No. I’m gonna find Luis.”
“Toast… Don said to work together,” said Kode raising his voice to match her distance.
She was already walking out. “We are.”
Lane
After talking to Mundo, Lane went back to the Nest.
He left the Hardline in the parking lot and ordered Buster to wash it.”
Inside, he hung his kutte on the hook, grabbed the keys to the ’96 Chevy Caprice, and pulled on a baseball cap that had seen better years. No colors. No statement.
Luis wasn’t the kind of man you hunted clean.
He was a frequent flyer— in and out of county, state time in more than one Texas unit, enough people owed him that his name kept circulating without him. He sold coke, slept where it benefited him, and listened when people underestimated him.
Lane began in Mathis, at an apartment complex where he and Blaze had seen Luis the night before. Nothing about it held. Too open, too many ways out.
He hadn’t stayed.
That didn’t mean discipline. It meant panic.
From there, Lane followed the trail Luis left behind — three places, none of them chosen for safety, just convenience. Couch stops. A borrowed room. Someone who owed him.
Luis wasn’t running smart.
He was running scared.
And Reyes hadn’t taken him in to hide him. They’d taken him in to see what he knew, and that meant Luis would keep moving until he was in better shape.
Lane didn’t need to catch him yet.
He just needed to know how far south Reyes had let him drift.
Lane adjusted his route and his pace.
Lane flipped the radio to a Mexican station to blend in.
Tu Cárcel was already halfway through, the singer pleading like it had been going all day. Lane left it there and kept driving.
kait
The Alley didn’t open until five.
So she rode across town and parked in front of Dulce’s place—a sagging complex with peeling paint and a stairwell littered with old beer cans and fast-food trash. Somebody upstairs was arguing in Spanish. Somebody else blasting La Culebra on too loud.
Dulce answered on the second knock.
Pink tank top. Booty shorts. Hair in a messy bun. She looked Kait over once and smiled like she’d won something.
“Hey,” Dulce said.
Kait stepped inside. “You got a minute.”
“For you? Always.”
Pink everywhere. Gold-rimmed furniture that tried hard and almost worked. Pink cusshions on a couch that was actually decent, if you ignored the cigarette burns on the arm.
A couple white unicorn knickknacks sat proudly on a shelf. Ceramic. One with a chipped horn. Both dusted regularly.
The place smelled like flowery perfume and Black & Milds.
Dulce made good money, and it showed — just not in the way people expected.
Underwear and stockings draped over chairs and lamps. Lace, satin, straps that didn’t belong to anything meant for daylight. Hand-wash only, drying where they landed. A practical mess.
Kait recorded all of it in a glance.
No shame. No judgment.
Just data.
Dulce shut the door behind her, leaned against it like she was proud of the place.
“Welcome to my Nest,” she said playfully. “Have a seat. You want something to drink?”
Kait shook her head politely.
“Nah. This is gonna be fast. Club stuff. We’re looking for a guy. Luis,” she said.
“Luis Paredes.”
Dulce’s smile shifted—less playful now. More alert. “Yeah. The guy Prince almost killed.”
“Yep. Last we heard he was in Mathis at some apartment complex. With some Reyes del Camino.”
“Probably the one on Freeman Street, my friend Nayeli lives there, she’s Chido’s girl.”
Kait smiled. “Can you give her a call maybe? Before you go to work?”
Dulce didn’t hesitate. She stepped closer—not touching, just inside Kait’s space long enough to show she was serious.
“I can do better than that,” she said. “I can totally stop by. Her cousin is actually a really good friend, so I can bring her too. Hopefully they feel chatty.”
“That’s all I need,” Kait said getting up. “Don’t ask about Luis directly. Just listen.”
Dulce was already reaching for the doorknob. “See you at the Alley or you coming back?”
“I’ll see you at the Alley,” said Kait putting her sunglasses on.
Dulce looked up at her, a grin breaking through. “You bet.”
Kait was already turning for the door. “I really want this info.”
Dulce smiled wider. “I’ll do my best.”
Kait touched Dulce’s chin. “You’re a sweet girl.”
“You’re way sweeter,” she said and bit her bottom lip.
Kait shook her head and went back downstairs.
lane
Lane got back to the Nest just after dark.
The Caprice ticked as it cooled. He left it where it was and went inside, boots still dragging Mathis, Beeville and Alice dust.
Kode was at the table with Mack and Ram, plates already half-full they all acknowledged him. The girls had put together a real dinner—BBQ, potatoes, mac n cheese, and corn on the cobb. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until he smelled everything.
Melanie came out with a pack of napkins. “Hey, Kount! I’ll make you a plate right now.”
“Smells good,” Lane said on his way to the room. “I’m gonna shower,” he said. “Load my plate up, will ya?”
“Of course,” Melanie said.
Lane came back fifteen minutes later, hair damp, sleeves rolled up. He sat, took two bites, then looked up at Kode who was watching wrestling. Sting vs. Scott Hall going at it on the screen.
“You seen Lokken?”
Kode didn’t look surprised. “Not since this morning.”
Lane paused with his fork halfway up.
Ram glanced between them. “She’s hunting for Luis. I asked her if she needed a hand, but…”
Lane chewed once. Didn’t taste it.
Mack raised an eyebrow. “She was on a mission.”
Lane pushed his plate back. Food barely touched.
“As you all should be,” he said, already standing.
“Kount,” Melanie called after him. “You didn’t eat your food—”
“I’ll eat later,” Lane said.
He grabbed his keys and was gone before anyone could answer.
The Caprice rolled back onto the road, steady and unremarkable.
He glanced at the rearview mirror, eyes sharp, jaw set.
“You’re not gonna find him first,” he said quietly.
Then he hit the gas and headed south.
kait
Dulce didn’t even let her take her gloves off.
The second she saw Kait at the Alley, she grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the narrow hall, past laughing girls and pounding bass, straight into the dressing room.
Door shut. Lock clicked.
“Okay,” Dulce said, breathless, eyes bright. “So. It lines up.”
Kait didn’t sit. “Where.”
Dulce paced once, then stopped. “Mathis first. Freeman Street was right. He was actually at Chido’s girl’s place but didn’t stay long.”
Kait nodded. “Okay.”
“Santos grabbed him early this morning and took him Beeville,” Dulce said. “That came up twice. He stayed with different people.”
“Anything else?”
Dulce looked at her, a grin creeping in despite herself. “Yeah, they said there was a suspicious white car casing the block so they got spooked and that’s why they took him to Alice.”
Kait felt the shape of it settle.
“Who was driving?”
“I don’t know, they said some white guy, probably an undercover cop or something,” Dulce said. “But everybody said it like it was obvious that it was Mondragón’s people. Who knows.”
“So Luis is in Alice now?” Kait said.
Dulce hesitated just a beat. “Nope. He didn’t even stay in Alice that long, Chido himself took him to Refugio.”
“I gotta get more familiar with the towns…”
“Quiet place. Tons of safe houses, I mean, go figure,” Dulce added.
Kait exhaled slowly. Controlled. “Go figure what?”
Dulce snorted. “Refugio means ‘shelter’ in Spanish.”
“Oh—”
“I should teach you some Spanish.”
“Some other time. So he keeps moving south,” she said.
“Yeah,” Dulce said. “And apparently they’re gonna cross him because Nayeli said Chido was gonna be in Matamoros so we should hang out again.”
Kait reached into her pocket, pressed cash into Dulce’s hand without ceremony.
“Good. I need to know where he ends up. It’s very important.”
Dulce closed her fingers around it. “Of course. I’ll keep digging.”
Kait met her eyes. Calm. Certain.
“Be careful. Keep it subtle.”
“Of course,” Dulce said and turned for the door.
Behind her, the music swallowed the room again.
Kait looked in the mirror and fixed her eyeliner. “You are not gonna find him first.”
LATER
Night had settled in by the time Kait pulled up to Don’s house.
No bikes in the drive.
Then she saw the cage. The white Caprice they always parked in the back by Mack’s garage.
She killed the engine and sat there for a second longer than necessary, wondering who was using it and what for.
She knocked once.
Loraine opened the door with a smile that didn’t miss a beat. Warm, genuine, like nothing in the world was wrong.
“Kait,” she said. “Come in, honey.”
“Hey, Loraine. Don around?” Kait said, already stepping inside.
Loraine laughed softly. “You too?”
That’s when Kait saw him. The driver of the white Chevy.
Son of a bitch.
Lane was in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter, one boot crossed over the other, a beer in his hand like he’d been there long enough to get comfortable.
He looked up.
The look he gave her said he felt the same way about seeing her there.
“The fuck you doing here,” he asked flatly.
Kait didn’t bother lowering her voice. “You didn’t hear me ask for Don just now?”
Loraine glanced between them, unfazed. “Don’s in the shower. He shouldn’t be much longer.
Lane took a slow pull from the bottle, eyes never leaving Kait.
Loraine stepped back into the kitchen, already reaching into the fridge. “You want a beer, Kait?”
Kait didn’t answer right away. Her eyes stayed on Lane.
“Sure,” she said finally pulling a chair out and sitting at the kitchen table.
Loraine handed her one, then patted Lane’s shoulder like he was a piece of furniture that belonged there.
“I’m going to tell Don to hurry up,” she said brightly. “Be nice you two.”
She disappeared down the hall.
The house settled into a thin, uncomfortable quiet. Just the fridge’ ice maker dumping a brand new batch into an empty plastic container.
He took a slow drink, eyes on Kait.
“So,” he said. “What’d you do this time? Molotov Mag’s place?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. Barely.
Kait didn’t look at him. She twisted the cap off the beer and set it on the counter.
“Nah,” she said. “You here to ask Don for more money to blow in Huntsville?”
That got him.
He laughed once, short. “No. I actually saved the club a shit ton money, and I fixed Huntsville, by the way.”
“Sure you did,” she said.
Lane straightened off the counter. “But, then again, what do you know about fixing charters.”
She finally looked at him. Cold. Measuring.
She curved her lips admiring the nice burn her just gave her “So, how long have you been fully patched, again?” she said.
“Seven years now. I was already prospecting when you ran away crying to Toastland.
She nodded like she’d expected that. “That’s funny. And you’re still acting like a Hatchling?”
Lane was impressed with the use of the term. “I’m surprised you know what that is. Didn’t think there was much of a patching process over there.”
Kait laughed once. “I can tell you’ve never been anywhere far enough to realize how small this place is.”
Lane came close and set his beer bottle on the table. “That’s your observation?”
Kait took a drink.
A crooked smile pulled at his mouth as he rested his forearms on the chair. “Just so you don’t say that out loud and embarrass yourself—” he said quietly, “I was stationed in Germany first. Then, I spent a month in Okinawa with my MEU. Then a quick detour in Bosnia before my orders in Iraq .”
He watched her this time. “And I’ve been to every charter we have in the States.”
Don’t fucking ask
“Do you even know how many that is?”
Nope, shit!
Footsteps.
They both went still.
Don appeared at the end of the hall, black pajama pants, sandals, hair still damp. He took in the scene in half a second—Lane at the counter, Kait at the table, tension thick enough to taste.
Neither waited.
“Don,” Lane said.
“Hey, Don,” Kait said at the same time.
They stopped. Reset.
Lane stepped forward first. “I just need a sec.”
Kait matched him immediately. “So do I.”
Don didn’t say anything right away.
He leaned against the hallway wall, arms crossed, eyes moving slowly between them. Waiting.
Lane took the opening first.
“Luis didn’t stay in Mathis,” he said. “It was just a stop.”
Kait scoffed. “He just stayed one night. That complex on Freeman Street was way too open.”
Lane shot her a look. “He was taken to Beeville after.”
“Also a pit stop. He ended up in Alice after that,” she added immediately. “They keep taking him further south.”
Lane’s jaw tightened. “He’s being moved by Reyes for sure.”
“Chido, to be exact,” Kait said.
“Reyes are keeping him just mobile enough,” Lane continued.
“So he doesn’t get comfortable,” Kait cut in. “Or stupid.”
“He’s scared,” They said at the same time.
They paused. Looked at each other. Neither impressed.
Lane went on. “Refugio’s the last place that matters.”
“It’s quiet,” Kait said. “What a coincidence that it means shelter.”
“Yeah, it’s full of safe houses and chapels,” said Lane making a face.
Kait ignored him. “Last stop before Mexico for sure.”
Lane nodded once, like she’d only confirmed what he already knew.
Don shifted his weight. Still didn’t speak.
Kait didn’t miss a beat. “We can catch him before he crosses the border.”
“Give me Blaze and Ram, and I’ll have him here by breakfast.”
“Whatever. It needs to be more subtle than that—”
“The fuck do you know?”
“—I know how not to draw attention in—”
“—oh, how not draw attention—”
“—which you will if you—”
“—shut up, Lokken—”
“—you shut the fuck up—”
Don raised a hand. “Both of you shut up.”
They stopped instantly.
Silence dropped back into the room.
Don looked at Lane. Then at Kait. Slowly. Like he was deciding where to cut first.
“Luis is dead,” he said finally.
Lane and Kait froze.
“The offed him in Refugio a couple of hours ago. Alacrán gave me a courtesy call to let me know.”
“Alacrán?” echoed Lane.
“Yeah. He was done once they learned he was hurting Kyle. Reyes don’t fuck with that.”
“Why bother moving him around like that then?” asked Kait.
“The farther south they are the fewer questions anyone asks,” answered Don.
Lane and Kait stood there, the hunt evaporated beneath their feet.
It was a draw.
“Y’all would’ve probably found him first if you worked together.”
Neither could argue that, so neither said a word.
“Now go home. Get some rest. After you two, God knows I need it. Out.”
They walked out at the same time.
No coordination. Just instinct.
The night air hit them both at once. Cooler. Quieter than it had been inside.
Lane reached the car first. Kait stopped at her bike.
He glanced at her, almost against his will.
“How’d you know,” he asked. Not accusing. Just sharp. “About Refugio.”
She slid her gloves on slowly. “Same way you did.”
He snorted. “Bullshit.”
Kait swung her leg over the bike. “You followed roads, I followed people.”
Lane nodded once after a pause, like that answer annoyed him more than it should have.
Lane opened his door. “I would’ve had found him first.”
“I guess we’ll never know,” she cut in.
He looked at her again.
“Guess not,” he said.
“Oh, and you were wrong, by the way,” she said.
Lane narrowed his eyes waiting for her next line.
“You said I would be dead by the time you came back.”
“I guess I came back too soon,” he said and got in the car.
Engines turned over.
They pulled out in opposite directions, neither looking back.
Neither satisfied.
Neither wrong.
Loraine hadn’t planned on reading tonight.
But the cards had been loud since she came into the room to tell Don to hurry up.
She drew one.
Two forces pulling hard in opposite directions. Control through strain.
“Still neck and neck,” Loraine muttered. “Neither one willing to let go.”
The air shifted.
A card slipped free before she could stop it.
It landed face up.
Loraine went very still.
A man upright in bed, hands over her face, blades hanging above his like a threat already earned.
No blood.
No violence.
Just fear and inevitability.
“Oh,” Loraine whispered. “No… I don’t like that.”
She dragged a finger along the edge of the card, then pulled her hand back like it might bite.
“This is…” she said softly. “what is this?”
The cards felt heavier now.
She hesitated, then drew again.
Upright.
Clear-eyed. Cold. Unflinching.
Loraine exhaled slowly. “What are you going to do?” she murmured. “Whatever it is, seems like you’ll do it to yourself.”
Her thumb hovered over the deck.
“One more,” she said. “Don’t be ugly.”
The card came anyway.
Two figures limping through snow beneath a stained-glass window. Wounded. Cast out. Still moving.
Loraine’s hand stilled completely.
“No,” she said. Flat. Certain. “That’s not loss or grief.”
She leaned back, cigarette forgotten between her fingers, eyes fixed on the spread.
“Comfort? No,” she said finally. “That’s survival.”
“Why are you reading your cards right now?” said Don walking in.
“What did those two want?”
Don sighed. “Club shit.”
“They can’t stand each other,” Loraine said looking at her cards again as if something clicked.
“Cause they’re so much alike.”
She gathered the cards slowly, carefully, like they might cut if handled wrong.
Outside, engines turned over. One. Then another.
Headlights swept across the wall and were gone.
“Put that shit away and let’s go to bed,” Don said pulling a corner of the sheets away.
“I’m going to the ranch early tomorrow.”
“Just bring his dumbass back, not like he hasn’t gotten his ass kicked before.”
“You don’t seem worried at all that he got jumped.”
“Loraine, you know your son. He’s got a mouth and he’s got a temper. You baby him too much.”
“He’s sick.”
Don sighed. “Just, come on.”
Loraine nodded and set the deck to the side.
The cards went quiet.
But the warning stayed.
