He shook his head. “If the cartel are after you, you’re in danger there.”
“I’m in danger everywhere. We have a plan.”
“What kind of a plan?”
Hope sparked at his curiosity. Maybe I was stupid for sharing this with him, maybe I was dumb as shit for thinking he didn’t mean me harm, but hope was always dangerous, and it had me admitting the truth to him.
“Carlos Rodriguez collects the fingers of those he considers enemies.” It was like going back to the Inquisition, for fuck’s sake. “The foot soldier is friendly with the club, he’s going to take mine back to him, and then we’re going to mock-up a picture of me ‘dead.’”
Martin frowned. “You can’t think that’s going to work?”
“Ramon came up with the suggestion. He said that was enough to get Carlos off my back,” I whispered, the hope that had sparked sinking into nothing as he shook his head.
“Ramon? Ramon Sanchez?”
“Y-Yeah.”
His top lip quirked up in a snarl as he surged to his feet. He grabbed his cell once more and, squinting into the phone, tapped around on the screen before raising it to his ear.
For a compound, even a temporary one, it was fucking quiet around here. So quiet that it was close to eerie, but it meant that I could hear Wolfe’s gruff voice snarl, “What?”
“I think I have something that belongs to you.”
10
Wolfe
I had an army at my back, an army I hadn’t been certain would ride with me.
Over thirty men were tagging along in this, the first wave that was heading over to the Knights’ compound. I had another thirty on backup, but they were setting off later—a flotilla this size would reach the useless pigs even in this sleepy town—and the rest of the MC had been called in to protect Amaryllis and the clubhouse.
I wasn’t sure what the fuck was going on, but I knew the Prez of the Satan’s Knights MC had called me, telling me he had Lucie, and for whatever fucking reason, Dagger wasn’t picking up his goddamn cell phone.
With terror in my heart, I couldn’t even find it in me to be stoked about being on the back of my bike. She throbbed like a dream beneath me, but it was lost on me. The wind in my face, the sun on my head, and the heat in my veins was all lost to me. There was no thrill here, no excitement. I wasn’t even psyched about potentially taking some Knights down…
I was just terrified.
Absolutely fucking shitting myself.
I sucked down a breath as we made the turn off. We’d been driving down back roads and shit that had been a nightmare on our suspension for the past thirty minutes, but we finally made it out of the lane that was surrounded by rows of wheat on either side. It was like something from an M. Night Shyamalan movie, and it didn’t exactly lighten the load on my heart.
If they had Lucie, then that meant they’d done something to Dagger. I’d sent two teams out to try and scout the area from the town to the clubhouse, but I hadn’t had an update thus far.
When the gates beckoned up ahead, and I saw the lone figure standing at the center, I reared back in surprise.
My woman.
Standing there.
Unharmed in her denim skirt, white vest, and shitkickers. Some of her tattoos were on display, but most of them were hidden, but with all that skin on show, I could see she wasn’t even bruised, and as grateful as I was for that, it merely added to my confusion.
As I slowed down, my brake lights glaring, behind me, the wave of bikers moved to a standstill too.
When I kicked off my bike, she was there, running into my arms, sobbing so hard it would have broken my heart if she weren’t here, safe and sound, beside me.
“How’s Dagger?” she cried. “Is he okay?”
“You know where he is?” I demanded, urgency in my words.
“Y-Yes. They hit him on the head and left him…” She reached up and rubbed her temple. “I think it’s that turn around where the cops go to nap. You know the one just off the highway? Sometimes it’s a speed trap too?”
“On the road to the clubhouse? You weren’t heading somewhere else? I knew Dagger was dreading this afternoon.”
She shook her head. “No. We were coming home.” Lucie peered around me, and saw that Flame was there but not Axe.