Page 83 of Lucky's Trouble

“No. It’s not. It’s Myla.” I hold up the strand of purple. “Tinleigh’s streaks are pink.”

“Fuck!” Rigger roars.

He was willing to go to war on my behalf, but it’s personal now that he knows Neal fucked with one of his girls from the Honey Pot. Rigger personally assures each of the ranch employees that they have the club’s full protection. Neal just unleashed a whole new level of violence on himself.

“He’s dead,” Rigger says.

“Agreed,” the men around me say in unison.

“She’s coming to,” Bones says, gently patting her hand. “Myla? You’re safe. You’re at the Sons’ clubhouse.”

Her eyes open to slits, too swollen to open fully. She glances from side to side, sucking in a shuddering breath and trying to scramble off the table. I rush over, holding her in place the best I can without hurting her.

“Darlin’, it’s okay. I got you. You’re okay now.”

“Lucky?” she croaks.

“Yeah, it’s me. You’re safe.”

Fat tears roll down her cheeks. “Tinleigh. She traded herself for me.”

I move to her side, taking her hand in mine. “Don’t worry about that right now. This is Bones, our doc, and he’s gonna fix you up, okay?”

Her eyes close. “No, you have to save her.”

“We will. We’re coming up with a plan.”

“You don’t understand.” Her voice cracks. “He sold her. She’s gone.”

Who knew it’d only take five words to break me? I’ve been through a lot of shit with this club, seen things that’ve burned holes in my brain and done things that firmly solidified my place next to the Reaper. Yet all it took was five words to destroy any humanity I had left, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get it back.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

TINLEIGH

I curl into a ball, anxiety clawing at my chest as shock sets in. This isn’t the way I thought things would go. I knew Neal was mad—his anger was apparent all over Myla’s battered face, but this?

I’m unsure if this is better or worse. At least with Neal, I knew what to expect during his days of violence until he felt vindicated. Then, I’d either go back to the Thirst Trap or possibly be moved to his escorting business, but I’d suffer willingly for Myla to be free.

That’s not what happened, though. Not only was Neal waiting for me when I walked into the building, but there was another man I’d never met. He was in a tailored suit, with his black hair styled and his shoes polished to perfection, but it was the smug smile and the evil glint in his eyes that told me the true story of who he was.

I tried to rush to Myla’s side, but one of Neal’s men stopped me, pinning my hands behind my back and holding me in front of the two men. When the unknown man gave Neal a nod, a rope was tied around my wrists, a gag shoved into my mouth, and I was blindfolded. Despite knowing it would get me nowhere, I kicked and screamed around the material. I knew it was a wasted effort, but I needed to know Myla was okay and would be released.

Now I’ll never know because shortly after, I was shoved into the back of a vehicle heading to who knows where.

Now, a hysterical sob is on the edge of erupting, but I hold it back. There’s no point in allowing it out. If anything, it’ll only give my captors satisfaction. Instead, I lie here, not making a sound.

I know men like the one Neal handed me over to; I’ve danced for plenty of them. They’re the ones who slap my ass or yank my hair, both of us knowing the bouncers wouldn’t save me because of how fat their wallets are. If I didn’t eventually show fear, their rough handling would only get worse until I did.

I don’t know how long I lay there, listening to the hum of the engine and the occasional phone call the man makes, speaking a foreign language I don’t recognize. After what feels like hours, the vehicle slows and maneuvers down roads with less traffic until the only engine I hear is our own, which means wherever we’re going is isolated.

Eventually, it comes to a stop, and I hear car doors opening and closing. My heart races and my breaths pick up, the gag feeling more like a noose, hindering me from getting enough air. How long will it be before he grows tired and kills me? What will I have to endure until that happens?

An image of Lucky pops into my head, and I hold onto it. Anyone else might look at his unkempt hair and beard, worn and stained jeans, plain T-shirts, and scuffed-up boots and think he’s nothing special, but they’d be wrong, because I’ve never met anyone sexier, funnier, or kinder. I wish I was with him now, lying in bed after a night of fucking. My favorite moments were when he was soft and sated, a rope of licorice bobbing in his mouth as we talked about everything under the sun.

I’m torn from my musings as the door next to me is opened, and I’m yanked out of the vehicle. With my other senses muted, my ears perk up, listening for any distinguishing sounds, but there’s nothing. Wherever we are, there is no one else around.

“Okay, Pet. I’m going to remove your blindfold and gag, but if you so much as utter a single word, they’ll go back on. Nod if you understand,” a man’s voice says.

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