“What do you think? Too much cleavage for a family dinner?” She grins, knowing damn well that’s not an issue in the club.
“If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in weeks.
Lucy places the dress back on the rack with a dramatic sigh. “Stray would probably appreciate it, but his mom might have a heart attack.”
It’s refreshing having someone to shop with who isn’t old enough to be my mother. Lucy’s twenty-five—still six years older than me, but worlds away from Ruth and Carol’s generation. She gets my references, laughs at my jokes, and best of all, doesn’t look at me with that mix of pity and concern everyone else does.
“So, you and Havoc, huh?” Lucy wiggles her eyebrows as we walk toward the food court. “Never thought I’d see the day someone tamed that silver fox.”
My cheeks flush. I touch the leather cut I’m wearing over my sundress. It still feels strange, but also right somehow.
“He’s... not what I expected.”
Lucy nods knowingly. “The good ones never are. Stray looked like bad news when I met him, but underneath all that leather and attitude? Total softie.”
We finish our shopping and head toward the parking lot, bags swinging from our arms. Lucy’s chatting about some club gossip when I notice a black van pulling up beside us.
“Hey, look at this purse I found on sale the other day—” Lucy’s voice cuts off as two men jump out of the van.
Before I can react, rough hands grab my arms. I drop my bags and scream as they try dragging me toward the open side door.
“Shut up, bitch!” one of them snarls, his grip bruising my skin.
Lucy’s screaming too, swinging her shopping bags at one guy’s head.
“Let her go!” she shrieks.
I kick and thrash, my lungs burning for oxygen. One man backhands Lucy, sending her stumbling backward.
“Get off me!” I shriek, clawing at the tattooed arms around my waist.
Suddenly, there’s the roar of a motorcycle and screeching tires. A bike skids to a stop beside us, and Viper leaps off, gun already drawn.
“Let her go,” he growls, and the cold promise in his tone makes even me freeze.
The man holding me tightens his grip, and I feel the hard press of a gun against my ribs.
“Back off, Wicked Sinners trash,” he hisses. “This ain’t your business.”
Viper doesn’t lower his weapon. His green eyes are razor-sharp, his finger steady on the trigger. “The Prez’s old lady is always my business.”
I catch sight of the tattoo on my captor’s wrist—a crown with FK beneath it. Forsaken Kings. The men who killed my parents.
“Let her go,” Viper repeats, taking a step forward. “Or I paint this parking lot with your brains.”
The second man jerks Lucy by her hair, making her cry out. “We take the girl, or this one gets hurt.”
My heart hammers against my chest. Lucy’s eyes are wide with terror, and I can see blood trickling from her split lip.
“Viper,” I manage to whisper. “Don’t let them hurt Lucy.”
A tense silence hangs in the air. People are noticing now, some hurrying away, others pulling out phones.
“Cops’ll be here any minute,” Viper says with deadly calm. “You really want to be caught in the middle of a kidnapping?”
The man holding me shifts his weight. I can feel his hesitation. Sirens wail in the distance. My captor curses under his breath.
“This ain’t over,” he growls, suddenly shoving me forward. I stumble into Viper, who catches me with one arm while keeping his gun trained on them.
