Page 82 of Lucky's Trouble

“Myla does, but because I haven’t formally claimed Tinleigh, she doesn’t?” I glare at my best friend, who’s quickly becoming an enemy.

“The club has rules.” He at least has the decency to look apologetic.

“I’m claiming her, all right? Did y’all hear that? She’s mine, so now you can start acting like my brothers and help me get her back!” I shout.

I get the rules, I do. We don’t want to be constantly running around taking people out for some bitch one of the members had a one-night stand with, but they know what she means to me. The only reason I hadn’t made it official was because I wanted to wait until all this smoke had cleared and knew she was in this with me.

But I’m not waiting anymore, and not just because she’s been taken. She’s mine and nothing and no one will ever change that.

All eyes shoot to the door when a knock sounds. No one would dare interrupt Church unless it was life or death. Or if they do, they risk an ass-kicking so bad they’ll never forget the rules again.

Since I’m already on my feet, I open the door where Tigger stands, eyes wide, frantic energy coming off him. “You gotta get out here. Right now.”

“What is it?” I ask. The hairs on my arms stand on end as I follow him outside.

“I was leaving to go to Myla’s like you asked, and she was just. . . there.” He goes into an all-out sprint toward the gate. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I quickly catch up, hearing the sound of boots pounding behind me as my brothers give chase.

The gate is open, and I spot Sugar just outside it. She’s hunched over on the ground, her back to me. My eyes narrow, catching on a pair of legs lying at awkward angles to the side of her, and I recognize the leather sandals as a pair Tinleigh wears.

Bile rises up my throat, and I have to fight to swallow it down and keep moving. I’m too late. I knew I should’ve left the second I knew she was missing. This is all my fault. I lost her and have no one to blame but myself.

“Get her inside,” Sugar snaps at Tig. The kid scrambles, looking unsure as he reaches down.

“I’ll do it,” I say and push him out of the way.

“Lucky. Jesus. I’m so sorry,” Sugar cries.

“Aw, fuck.” Looking down, anguish overtakes me. Her face is so swollen that I hardly recognize her, but the worst part, the part that has me bent over and spilling the contents of my stomach onto the asphalt, is that she’s naked other than her shoes. Whoever brought her here must’ve just shoved her out onto the road while they were still moving because every inch of her is scraped up and bloody.

“She’s still breathing. We got her, brother.” Cy clamps a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

I stand upright, pulling myself together for her. She needs me. Breaking through the crowd, I see that someone has covered her in a T-shirt. Glancing around, a bare-chested Golden is pulling his cut back over his shoulders.

Mustang and Dutch position themselves at her shoulders and legs, ready to pick her up, but I stop them. “Let me.”

They take a step back, and I crouch, slipping my arms under her back and knees, removing her from Sugar’s lap. She’s limp as I walk as fast as my legs will move and head into the clubhouse. Bones is already getting set up, draping sheets over two tables that have been pushed together.

I set her down on the table gently, backing away as Bones takes over. He pulls her eyelids open, flashing a light into each one before placing two fingers on her wrist and taking her pulse.

“Is she okay? Should we call an ambulance?” I ask.

“Her pulse is steady, and her pupils are reactive. I think she’s just knocked out cold. Let me take a closer look before we get them involved,” he says.

“Come on. Let him work while we figure this out.” Rigger jerks his head in the direction of the room Church is in.

“I don’t want to leave her, not until I know she’ll be okay.” I grab a couple packets of gauze from the stack Bones has out and open them before wiping the puke off my mouth.

“There’s nothing you can do right now, son. Your time is better spent plotting how we’ll get that motherfucker back,” Cy says.

How quick my brothers’ attitudes changed when seeing firsthand just how sadistic this bastard is. I hate that it had to come to this, but glad they’re finally on my side.

“Okay.” I approach the table and bend down, lowering my voice. “I love you too, Hellcat.”

As I’m standing upright, something catches my attention. A streak of purple shows through the blonde hair that’s mostly stained red from blood. Purple, not pink. God should strike me down dead for the brief moment of relief I feel before the grief sets in for what my friend went through at Neal’s hands.

“It’s not Tinleigh,” I say.

“What?” Rigger’s face screws up. “Bro, it’s her.”

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