I huff out a breath, the sound of my name in her soft, melodic voice doing more to settle my nerves than a bottle of bourbon ever could. I pull the door shut and lock it, the heavy thud of the deadbolt echoing in the quiet morning air.
The ride to the clubhouse is a blur. Usually, the wind in my face and the roar of my engine are enough to clear my head, buttoday, all I can see is the way Melodie’s fingers shook when she handed me that paper rose. All I can feel is the phantom weight of her small hand in mine.
I pull into the lot of the Wicked Riders clubhouse, the gravel crunching under my tires. The usual suspects are already there: bikes lined up like soldiers, the smell of exhaust and stale coffee hanging in the air.
"Rogue! About damn time," Prez calls out as I swing my leg off the bike. He’s standing on the porch, arms crossed over his leather vest. He looks me up and down, his eyes narrowing. "You look like you've been through a meat grinder, brother. Where the hell have you been?"
"Found her," I say, my voice gravelly. I don't need to specify who. Everyone in the club knows we’ve been short one girl since the raid on the auction house.
The atmosphere shifts instantly. The guys hanging out by the garage stop what they’re doing. Prez uncrosses his arms and gestures toward the door. "Inside. Now."
We head into the church room, the heavy oak table in the center of the room scarred by years of spilled beer and heated arguments. I take my seat as Road Captain, but I'm too restless to sit still. I pace the length of the room while the rest of the patched members file in.
"She’s safe," I tell them once the door is shut. "I found her on the side of Highway 24. She was... it wasn't good, Prez. She was in a corset that was literally cutting into her. Scars everywhere." I feel the familiar burn of rage tightening my chest. "She’s at my place. Mika and Athena are with her."
"Thank God," Shadow mutters, leaning back in his chair. "Mika hasn't slept a full night yet, knowing her friend was out there somewhere. She's been convinced they took her to a secondary location."
"They tried," I growl. "But she got away. Ran through the woods, managed to hide and survive for days until she hit the road where I found her."
Prez nods, his expression grim. "The housing and job support for the other women is already in motion. We’ve got three of the Madame’s low-level runners in holding, but they aren't talking. They’re terrified of whoever is backing the Sons of Destruction on this."
I stop pacing, my hands gripping the back of my chair so hard the wood creaks. "I don't care who they're scared of. They should be scared ofme. Melodie... She was barely able to speak yesterday, and she flinches if I breathe too loud."
"Easy, Rogue," Prez says, his voice low and steady. "We’re going to dismantle them. Every single one. But like always, we need a better lead. We keep getting fucking nothing and fucking nowhere. We need to know who was running the books. Without the paper trail, the Madame is just a crazy bitch with a basement and meat-headed Sons of Destruction assholes. We need the names of the buyers."
My mind flashes back to Melodie’s terrified face when I mentioned the club. She’s been through hell, and yet she’s making paper flowers in my kitchen. She’s the strongest person I’ve ever met, and she doesn't even know it. I know she has more answers, but it will take time to get all the details. I have a feeling what we’re looking for is in that office she was held prisoner in.
"I'll get what I can from her," I say, already reaching for my keys. "But I'm not pushing her. She’s had enough people forcing things out of her."
"Take your time," Prez says. "But Rogue? Don't lose your head. You’ve got that look in your eye."
"What look?"
"The look of a man who’s already picked out a ring," Shadow smirks.
I don't honor that with a response, mostly because he’s right. I’ve known her for less than forty-eight hours, and I’d already burn the world down just to see her smile.
The ride back feels twice as long. My skin is itching to get back into her space, to make sure she hasn't disappeared like a dream. When I pull into the driveway, I see Mika’s car is still there, and I let out a relieved breath.
I walk inside, and the sight that greets me almost brings me to my knees. Melodie is sitting at the kitchen table with Athena and Mika. She isn't curled into a ball anymore. She’s still quiet, but she’s watching Athena talk with a tiny, hesitant tilt to her lips. She looks up when the screen door creaks, and that shy smile turns toward me.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
The girls stand up as I approach. Athena gives me a sharp, knowing look. "She’s had some broth and some water. We brought over a bag of clothes and some things from the pharmacy for those welts on her side."
"Thanks," I say, my eyes never leaving Melodie.
"Be good to her, Rogue," Mika says, her voice soft as she squeezes Melodie’s shoulder. "She’s one of us now."
I wait until the door clicks shut behind them. The silence of the house settles around us, heavy and thick with things we haven't said yet. Melodie stands up, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She’s wearing a soft sweater the girls must have brought, but I can see a small dark spot blooming on the side of the fabric near her waist.
"Mel," I breathe, crossing the kitchen in two strides. "You're bleeding again."
"I'm sorry," she whispers, her eyes darting to the floor. "I didn't mean to ruin the shirt. I'll wash it, I promise?—"
I cut her off by gently taking her hands. They’re cold, and she’s trembling again. "Stop. Look at me." She slowly lifts hergaze. "I don't give a damn about the shirt, Melodie. I care aboutyou. You're in pain, and you don't have to hide it from me. Not ever."
I lead her toward the bathroom, my heart heavy with a protective instinct so fierce it's almost physical. I’m going to clean her wounds, and then I’m going to find every single person who put them there.
