"It's not." Viper's voice carries absolute conviction. "You have my word as president. And I know that's worth fuck-all to you right now, but it's all I've got to offer besides her safe return." He pauses. "I've also got something else. SomethingI think will go a long way toward making amends. But we'll discuss that when you get here."
The line goes dead.
For a heartbeat, nobody moves. The assembled brothers watch me, watch Steel, waiting for orders. Waiting to see if we're riding into a rescue or a massacre.
"Could be a trap," Steel says quietly, for my ears only. "Could be Viper playing us. Using her as bait."
"Don't care." I'm already revving the engine, my body ready to ride. "I'm going."
"We all are." Steel's voice carries to the assembled brothers. "But we go smart. First team with me, Wrath, Diesel, and Tank. Everyone else hangs back half a mile out. If this goes sideways, you come in hot and hard. Understood?"
A chorus of affirmatives.
The ride to the Iron Serpents compound takes seven minutes that feel like seven hours. Every second stretches into eternity while my mind races through possibilities, scenarios, nightmares.
Is she really okay? What did they do to her? How terrified is she? Did anyone touch her?
The thought makes my vision go red. If anyone put their hands on her, if anyone so much as looked at her wrong, Viper's apology won't mean shit. I'll paint their compound with their blood and sleep like a baby afterward.
The Iron Serpents' gate stands open like Viper promised. Members line the main building's entrance, but their hands are empty of weapons. At least visibly empty.
Their faces are carefully neutral. It's a show of respect. Of surrender.
Doesn't mean I trust it.
I kill the engine and I'm off my bike before it fully stops, my boots hitting the ground hard enough to jar my spine.
Viper stands waiting at the entrance, flanked by two officers whose patches mark them as VP and Sergeant at Arms. All three men have their hands visible, relaxed at their sides. Non-threatening.
But I see the tension in their shoulders. The wariness in their eyes. They know how close they came to war. How close they still are.
"Where is she?" The question comes out flat, dangerous.
"Inside. Common room." Viper steps aside carefully, gesturing toward the open door.
"Wrath—before you go in, you should know?—"
I don't wait to hear the rest. I push past him, past his officers, through the entrance. I follow the sound of female voices down a hallway that opens into a large common room.
And there she is.
Cami sits on a worn leather couch surrounded by three women, a mug of what looks like coffee or tea in her hands. She's actually smiling. Her eyes are bright, animated as she gestures while saying something that has the women grinning and shaking their heads in amusement.
She looks relaxed. Happy, even. Not traumatized in the least.
But the second she sees me, everything else disappears.
"Rhett!"
She's off the couch and running toward me before I can take another breath, the mug forgotten on a side table. I catch her mid-stride, lifting her completely off her feet, crushing her against my chest hard enough that she gasps into my neck.
But she doesn't complain. Her arms wrap around my neck, her legs around my waist, her face buries against my shoulder.
"I've got you." The words come out rough as I breathe in her familiar scent. "I've got you, baby. You're safe now. I'm here. I'm right here."
"I knew you’d come.”
I press my face harder into her hair, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other splayed across her lower back holding her against me like I can absorb her into my skin.
