Pulling through the gate with the guy behind me on his motorcycle, I told myself his concern over Lucas’s reaction was exaggerated. That I was making the right choice. I really hoped I was right.
9
KEVLAR
Iwas steps away from my bike when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. The sun was dropping low behind the trees, and the darkness fit my mood just fine.
I pulled my cell out and glanced at the screen, expecting an update from King or Wizard. Instead, it was one of our prospects.
Prospect—Jace
She insisted on going to work.
Before I’d had time to fully process that, another text popped up.
Prospect—Jace
She wasn’t wearing your cut, so I wasn’t sure what to do. But I’m following. Watching her six.
A muscle in my jaw cracked so hard I nearly snapped a fucking molar.
My fingers clenched around the phone hard enough that the casing creaked. I stared at the message, my heart kicking behindmy ribs. The tight coil in my gut that had finally started to ease after the meeting with King was back.
Maren had disobeyed me.
I’d left her a note with clear instructions. I’d told her to stay put. Stay safe. Left her my damn cut. But she left the fucking compound.
And the kid let her!
Yeah, he’d be dealt with later. Right now, my focus was locked tight on Maren.
She’d been half-naked and soft in my arms less than twelve hours ago, all trembling trust. Now she was out there like nothing had changed.
Bullshit.
I shoved the phone back into my pocket and swung my leg over my bike, my grip tightening on the handlebars until my knuckles went white.
Rage surged hot in my veins. I started the motorcycle, and the engine roared to life beneath me, a guttural, snarling promise of what I was bringing with me.
I twisted the throttle and peeled out onto the road, burning down the streets with tunnel vision. There were no distractions. No thoughts about anything but getting to Maren.
She was without my protection. Without the club’s. Exposed and unaware of the danger.
I made it to the diner in record time, my tires chewing up the road as I tore through town. The second I turned into the alley behind the diner, the world narrowed to a razor-sharp point.
The black SUV was parked in the diner’s back lot, the engine still running. The same vehicle I’d seen tailing her for days.
Motherfucker.
My bike skidded to a halt in the lot, and my heart hammered, then the rest of me turned to steel.
The prospect was down. Jace lay on his side, blood blooming brightly across his shirt. He was barely conscious, with one hand pressed to his side where he’d been shot. His jaw was clenched, teeth bared in pain, and his glassy eyes were locked on the scene ten feet ahead of him.
Maren was fighting like hell against a man who was dragging her backward by the wrist. The sleeve of her uniform was torn, one of her shoes was missing, and her eyes were wild with panic as she tried to wrench away from him. But the man didn’t stop marching toward the waiting black SUV with its back doors wide open.
It was the same bastard I’d seen her serve that first night. The one who stared too long. Who masked his interest in a bland expression so forgettable it was calculated.
I saw all of this in a blink.
