Page 94 of Property of Player

Once she’s free, I drag her into my arms and hold her tight.

She buries her face in my hoodie and cries.

I hold her through it, stroking her hair. “You’re safe now, baby. It’s over.”

“Thank God you found me. How did you know where I was?”

“Drae noticed the calendar on the wall behind you in the photo those bastards sent us.”

“It was the Depraved Sinners. They’re the ones who took me. Molly handed me over to them. She tricked me into going out to her car, then she hit me with a taser.”

I stroke her head. “That bitch is dead. Are you okay? They didn’t”—I pause and swallow---“hurt you further?”

She seems to know what I’m asking. “They didn’t touch me, not like that.”

I press my forehead to hers, relief flooding me. “Thank God, baby. I’m so fucking sorry I let this happen.”

“You didn’t let it happen. It’s not your fault.”

But I know in my heart her association with the MC is what led her to be here. There’s no denying it. All my worst fears came true. “Thank God you're alive.”

It’s all I can say. She may try to excuse my culpability, but I know I’m at fault.

“But where are they? Is this a trap to get you here?” Taylor asks.

The thunder of motorcycles rolling up reverberates through the big metal building.

Shots ring out, and someone shouts. “We’ve got company, boss.”

Taylor clutches my hoodie. “Don’t leave me.”

I think about passing her to one of the men and joining the fight; it’s my job as VP to be with the men, but there’s no way I’m leaving her or letting her out of my sight. Not again. Never again.

“Never, baby. I’ve got you.”

The rest of the club jogs off to take up positions.

I push Taylor behind the old metal cabinet. “Stay there.”

Her eyes are wide, and I have to pull her fists free of my hoodie, and that tears my heart out.

“I’m just going to the doorway. No farther,” I promise, and I take up position with my AR-15.

Slaughter is at the end of the hall where it opens into a large open space. The boys all line the windows, breaking glass and shooting. Fire rains back at them. Slaughter slams behind a concrete pillar, taking cover.

In every fight I’ve ever been in, there’s always the chaos of gunfire, but this time Taylor is at risk, and that adds a level of determination to my every action.

Muzzles flash as my brothers return fire, and in the echoing old building, the sound is deafening. My ears ring and the smell of cordite burns my nose.

The pitch darkness is only broken by the blinding flashes of gunfire.

A chipped piece of brick flies past my ear, and I duck back,

Lifting my weapon, I flip the selector switch with my thumb, moving it from Safe to Fire with a quick click. I pull the T-shaped handle at the back of the receiver and let it snap forward, loading the first round.

Aiming down the site, my shoulder absorbs a steady push with round after round that I fire.

The sound is deafening. Hot brass casings bounce off my arm.