warehouse, and Harley is pacing the office. Gracie is with him—”
I didn’t wait for him to say another word. Revving my bike, I tore up dirt as I hauled ass across the ten miles to Jack’s spare parts warehouse. By the time I got there it had been more than thirty minutes since Gracie had called me. Thirty minutes alone with a man who I wasn’t sure wouldn’t hurt her in a way that would scar her for life.
I’d known Harley all of my life. His dad had been friends with mine, and had taken a bullet not long after my dad had. Harley had patched in at eighteen, after prospecting for three years. I’d done the same thing, started prospecting when I was sixteen and patched in not long after he had. We’d known that we were going to be lifers, knew that it was tradition, but kind of like a family business. Outlawing tended to be a family-run organization, and an MC was just that.
One big, happy family. A band of brothers that had each other’s backs.
Trigger was leaning against his bike when I stopped just a few feet from him. Trigger had come by his club name honestly. He was our best shooter, never missed anything he aimed at. He’d been a sniper in the army; he still was when we needed him to be.
I was jumping off my bike before the others even reached us. I didn’t stop to get any details from Trigger, didn’t wait for the others to make a plan to get into the warehouse. I was going in blind. Harley could have been holed up with a dozen guns, could have been waiting to end me. I didn’t give a shit. I was getting my female back.
Now.
Gracie
My head was killing me.
Moaning, I lifted a hand to my head, wincing when I came into contact with a tender knot in the middle of my forehead. A sticky, tender knot. My stomach rolled with nausea when I tried to open my eyes and a flash of florescent light felt like it had developed the power of a laser beam, shooting pain straight to my brain.
Fudge. I was going to be sick.
The thought had barely flirted through my dazed mind before I was turning on my side and retching. I didn’t care where my vomit landed, just that it got out of me as quickly as possible in the hopes that it would make my pain stop. I didn’t try to open my eyes again; I just blindly vomited into an unknown abyss.
From somewhere behind me I heard someone curse violently and curled up into a tight ball. I didn’t know who it was, but I didn’t trust them. Another wave of nausea washed over me and I threw up again and again while trying to make myself as small as possible. Tears leaked from my tightly closed eyes as I remembered my mother doing exactly that same thing several times during my childhood.
Just as she had been then, I knew I had a concussion. A bad one, from the pain that felt like it was slicing my brain into huge chunks.
Slowly, as my stomach began to calm a little, I began to remember the events leading up to this point. Flashes of memories overloaded my aching head and I moaned again, trying to piece them all together. Leaving Aggie’s after work. Feeling so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. Harley. Feeling scared. Calling Hawk…
Hawk . I mentally whispered his name as more tears fell. I wanted Hawk so much. He would help me, make my head stop hurting. But I didn’t even know where I was, couldn’t open my eyes long enough to figure out where Harley must have taken me after he’d slammed my head into the steering wheel of Hawk’s Chevelle. Did Hawk know where I was? Was he coming for me?
The sound of something loud suddenly echoed through the room. I covered my ears, trying to hide from the painful loudness of what had sounded like a gunshot. The shot hadn’t even faded when I heard another loud noise, this one sounding like a door crashing open.
I heard the voice that had cursed earlier yell out seconds before the room went strangely quiet for a moment.
“Did you end him?” a voice I thought belonged to Jack asked in a tone that was void of all
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