“Found her about thirty minutes ago, just off County Line Road.”I kept my voice level, providing information without revealing my growing concern.“Been running from something or someone for at least a day.Maybe longer.”
The Prospect’s eyes narrowed.“And you brought her here?”
The question hung between us, loaded with implications.The Kings had enemies -- rival clubs, law enforcement, people who’d use any weakness against us.An outsider who knew our location represented a potential breach.But leaving her hadn’t been an option.
“Didn’t have much choice,” I said simply.
“There’s always a choice,” the younger Prospect said, repeating a line he’d probably heard in church.
I fixed him with a level stare.“No.Sometimes there isn’t.”
Callie stirred against me, eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again.Her lips moved, forming soundless words.I leaned closer, catching fragments --”coming” and “please” and something that might have been “help.”
The fever worried me most.Infection could kill as surely as any bullet if left untreated.We had medical supplies inside, people with experience treating wounds that couldn’t go to hospitals.Every minute standing here was a minute wasted.
“She needs help now,” I said, positioning myself between Callie and the Prospects.Not a threatening stance, but a protective one.
The older Prospect studied me, recognition dawning in his eyes.My years with the Kings had built me a reputation.I rarely pushed, but when I did, I had reasons.
“Beast won’t like it.”
“Beast doesn’t have to like it,” I replied.
I adjusted my hold on Callie, one arm supporting her waist while her head lolled against my shoulder.Her breath came hot against my neck, too fast and too shallow.The night air had turned cool, but she radiated heat like a furnace.
The Prospects held their positions, hands resting near their weapons.Not a threat aimed at me -- they knew better -- but a reminder of their duty to protect the compound.I respected it, even as frustration tightened my chest.
Minutes stretched like hours while we waited, the only sounds Callie’s labored breathing and the distant chorus of night insects.Security lights buzzed overhead, drawing moths dancing in the harsh glow.Shadows shifted along the tree line, nothing threatening -- just normal wildlife -- but every flicker sent tension rolling through my shoulders.
Whoever had followed us on the road hadn’t shown at the gate yet.That absence offered no comfort.They could still be out there, watching.Waiting.The back of my neck prickled with the sensation of unseen eyes.
“Radio Beast again,” I said, breaking the tense silence.“Tell him she’s burning up with fever.”
Before the Prospect could respond, headlights cut through the darkness beyond the gate.I could hear Beast’s custom Harley approaching, followed by another bike.Not just Beast, then.Company.The chain of command responding to a potential threat.
I shifted Callie’s weight again and felt her stir against me.Her eyes opened briefly, unfocused with fever yet still carrying the sharp edge of survival instinct I’d noticed on the road.
“It’s okay,” I murmured, meant only for her.“You’re safe now.”
The lie tasted bitter.Safety stayed relative in our world, especially for outsiders.Still, it beat whatever hell she’d escaped.For now, it would have to be enough.
Beast emerged from beyond the gate, broad shoulders blocking what little moonlight filtered through the trees.The club President moved with the confident stride of a man who commanded respect through presence alone.Ranger flanked him on the right, no less imposing, his expression giving nothing away as he took in the scene at the gate.Security lights caught the President patch on Beast’s cut, a reminder of the authority now standing between us and sanctuary.
“Samson.”Beast’s voice carried the weight of years of leadership, neither angry nor welcoming -- just assessing.His gaze shifted from me to the woman in my arms, then back.“Explain.”
“Found her on County Line Road,” I said, meeting his gaze directly.“Someone worked her over.She’s been running for at least a day.Fever’s setting in from an untreated head wound.”
Beast’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.“Medical situation doesn’t change protocol.No unclaimed women inside these gates.You know that.”
“Someone’s hunting her,” I said, keeping my voice even.“Was following us on the road.They seem to have fallen back, though.”
Ranger stepped forward, his face catching harsh shadows from the security lights.“All the more reason to keep her outside.Whatever trouble she’s in becomes our trouble the moment she crosses that line.”He nodded toward the gate, symbolic as much as physical.
Callie stirred against me, a soft whimper escaping her lips as consciousness briefly returned.Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused with fever, then closed again.The tremors running through her body had worsened during our wait.
“She needs antibiotics,” I said, urgency bleeding into my voice despite my efforts to remain calm.“Clean bandages.Proper shelter.”
“Not our problem,” Ranger said, though something in his tone had softened slightly at the sight of her condition.Hard as he was, Ranger had raised kids.Even in the MC world, some instincts ran deep.
