“Where is she?” I growl, stepping forward. “Where the fuck is Rose?” I bark with barely restrained violence.
The woman cowers.
Ivan smirks. “She’s not here,” he says. “She escaped.” He turns his head and gives the woman a hard look.
For a moment, his words don’t register. She escaped? My Rose? A flicker of pride cuts through the fear, but it’s gone just as quickly. If she escaped, where is she now?
“You’re lying,” I snarl, stepping closer. They could be hiding her elsewhere. My vision blurs with rage and my fist connects with his face. The impact sends him stumbling back, blood spraying from his nose. I don’t stop. I hit him again and again, the anger boiling over. He took her. He hurt her. He doesn’t get to walk away from this.
“Rage!” Viper’s voice cuts through the haze, and I feel a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back. I’m breathing hard, my fists trembling, but I step away, my chest heaving. Ivan spits blood onto the floor, his smirk gone.
Demon pulls up outside in the club van. He steps into the trailer, his knife already in his hand. His grin is wide, wicked, and full of promise. “Well, well,” he says, his voice cheerful. “Looks like we’ve got some trash to take out.”
Viper nods, and that’s all Demon needs. The Russians are bound, gagged, and dragged out to the van by Demon and Cash, their protests falling on deaf ears.
But I can’t focus on them. My mind is still on Rose. Where is she? Is she okay? The fear is back, and it’s eating me alive.
My phone buzzes again, and I grab it. It’s Zara.
“Rage,” she says, her voice calm but urgent. “Rose is at Misty’s Safe Haven. She’s got some minor injuries, but she’s okay. She’s upset, but she’s safe. You have to get here now. She needs you.”
Relief hits me like a tidal wave, so overwhelming that my knees almost buckle. She’s safe. She’s alive. But the fear doesn’t completely leave. I need to see her. I need to hold her, to make sure she’s really okay.
I turn to Viper. “Zara said Rose is at Misty’s Safe Haven. I’m going there now.”
Viper’s shoulders slump. “Good news, man. You go get your ol’ lady, and I’ll inform the club.”
“What about the Russians?” I still want to hurt them... badly.
He shakes his head. “You focus on your girl. I have a feeling Demon is itching to serve some justice for you.” He gives me a mischievous grin.
I trust that he will, and with that I leave.
The engine thunders beneath me. The road blurs as I race toward her, my pulse soaring with every mile. I don’t care about anything else. All I care about is Rose. And I’m not stopping until she’s back in my arms.
Rose
I’m waiting justinside the front door of Misty’s Safe Haven with Zara. A rumble from a motorcycle fills the air and my heart goesthud... thud... thud.Rage pulls into the driveway. I run outside as he yanks his helmet off. The second his gaze locks with mine, I feel the tears welling up again.
“Rose,” he breathes, his voice breaking as he steps to me in three long strides. He cups my face ever so gently, and it makes my chest ache. His eyes roam over my face and body,taking in every bruise, every mark, every sign of what I’ve been through, and I see the pain in his eyes. “Your face,” he whispers, his thumb brushing lightly over the tender area. “And your wrists...” He takes my hand in his, looking at the red marks the rope left behind. His fingers trace the angry lines. His expression twists with guilt.
“I’m okay now. I’m with you,” I manage to say, though my voice is brittle.
He doesn’t look convinced. His hands move to my shoulders, then down my arms, checking me over like he’s making sure I’m really here.
“Did they hurt you anywhere else?” His jaw tightens, and I know what he’s alluding to.
“No, it’s just my face, wrists, and ankles. I’m okay, Rage. I swear.” I try to reassure him, but he looks devastated.
He pulls me into his arms, holding me so tightly that I can hear his heart pounding against mine. I bury my face in his chest, the familiar scent of leather and his cologne wrapping around me like a shield. Something inside of me breaks, and I sob into him, all the pain and relief pouring out of me. He strokes my hair, presses his lips against the top of my head, and whispers, “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I was never going to see you again.”
I pull back just enough to look at him, my hands clutching the front of his cut. “I remembered what you told me,” I say, “about self-defense. About not hesitating. She had a gun. She was waving it around. The men were gone. It was my only chance to escape. So I slammed the door in her face and took the gun off her. I throat-punched her, just like you taught me, and I ran.”
His eyes widen, and for a moment, he just stares at me. Then a slow, proud smile spreads across his face. “You did that?” he asks, his voice filled with awe. “You got away?”
I nod, sniffling. “An older woman picked me up on the road. She brought me here. I didn’t know if you’d find me, but I just... I couldn’t let you fight again. I couldn’t let you get hurt because of me.”
He shakes his head, his hands framing my face again. “Rose, you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. I’m so damn proud of you. You saved yourself. You’re incredible.”
