“Shit.” Ash runs a hand through his hair. “Anyone talk to the feds here?”
“No one’s been to the compound yet,” Danny says. “But they will. You know they will.”
“What about Bonnie?” I ask.
“The ceremony was supposed to start an hour ago. Bonnie never showed. They found a broken window in the hallway, and she was just—gone. Marcus lost his mind. Took his whole crew out to search.”
“How long ago?” Ghost asks.
“Twenty minutes, maybe thirty.”
“Which direction?” I’m already calculating routes, escape paths, and places a scared girl in a wedding dress might run.
“North, we think. But nobody knows for sure.”
Ash turns to the handful of Ruthless Devils members standing around. “Listen up. Savage Legion might come back looking for trouble. I need you to lock down the compound. Nobody in or out without my say-so. Arm up, cover all entrances, and if Marcus Stone shows his face here, you call me immediately. Understood?”
A chorus of “Yes, VP” echoes back.
“What about us?” Danny asks.
“You stay here and keep everyone calm.” Ash looks at Ghost and me. “We’re going to find her.”
We mount up again. My heart pounds against my ribs as I start the engine.
Bonnie’s out there somewhere. Alone, scared, running from men who want to drag her back and make her pay for the embarrassment of being a runaway bride.
Not on my watch.
9
BONNIE
Agas station appears like a mirage through the trees.
I stumble out of the woods and onto the cracked pavement of the parking lot. Every part of me screams in pain—my feet worst of all, shredded from running barefoot through the forest and over the asphalt.
The station appears abandoned, with only one pump remaining, rust eating away at the metal. A small building with bars on the windows and a faded sign that says “Pete’s Gas & Go.” No cars in the lot. No signs of life.
I limp toward the building and collapse against the side wall. My chest heaves. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision. When was the last time I ate? This morning? Yesterday? Time has lost all meaning.
I look down at myself and almost laugh. The wedding dress is barely recognizable—torn to shreds, covered in blood and dirt and God knows what else. My feet leave red prints on the concrete. Cuts cover my arms and legs from the fence and thorns. I must look like I crawled out of a horror movie.
At least I’m alive.
For now.
I pull my phone from where it’s still tucked in the bodice. The screen is cracked, and my battery is dead.
Dad’s with the feds. Who gave him up?
The question circles my brain like a vulture. Someone who knew enough about club business to build a federal case.
The thought makes me sick. Our club is family. We’re supposed to be loyal to each other above everything else. But someone broke that loyalty, fed information to the feds, and now Dad’s in custody while I’m running for my life from the marriage he arranged.
Was that the plan all along? Get Dad arrested, leave me vulnerable, and hand me over to Marcus? My head spins as I try to work through the possibilities. I’m too exhausted, too hurt, too scared to think straight.
The rumble of motorcycle engines cuts through my thoughts.
