The room feels too small. Too tight.
“She could be hurt,” I rasp.
“We don’t know,” Hawk says. “We don’t know anything.”
The door opens wider.
Mason steps in.
The room changes instantly.
He doesn’t raise his voice. Doesn’t rush. He justexistsin the space, president presence settling over everyone like weight. Dagger follows him, eyes already sharp, already dissecting everything.
Mason’s gaze goes straight to me. “You’re awake.”
“Why the hell am I still in this bed?” I snap.
Bella steps closer, her hands shaking as she presses them to the mattress. “Because you took a bullet to the gut.”
I glance down.
My shirt’s gone. Bandages wrap tight around my abdomen, thick and carefully layered. My ribs are bound too, tight enough that breathing feels like work.
“I pulled it out,” Bella continues softly. “The bullet. I cleaned the wound as best I could and stitched you up.” Her voice wavers. “You’ve got broken ribs. I wrapped them. Your leg’s a mess, but not broken.”
I nod once. “Thank you.”
Then I look at her again. “But where the fuck is your sister?”
Bella breaks.
She drops into the chair beside the bed, hands coming up to her face as she starts crying in earnest. “I don’t know,” she sobs. “I don’t know where she is. I don’t even know if she’s alive.”
Brooke turns back at that, tears streaming openly now.
Rev swears, vicious and low.
The words slice clean through me.
“He took her,” I growl.
Dagger’s jaw tightens. Mason doesn’t argue.
“How long have I been out?” I ask.
Bella wipes her face, sniffing. “We left Brooke’s around seven-thirty.”
My heart pounds harder. “And now?”
“It’s nine,” Hawk says. “Nine a.m.”
Fuck, almost half a day. She could be anywhere. Hurt. Scared. Alone. “They planned this,” I say.
“Yeah,” Hawk says.
“And they knew exactly who they wanted,” Dagger adds.
“She fought,” I say quietly. “She’s stronger than she thinks.”
