Page 87 of Lucky's Trouble

I see fucking red. In his fucked-up head, that’s all she is: a transaction. A commodity to buy, sell, or trade as he sees fit. Her value has nothing to do with the body she’s in or the beauty she holds. And Neal must be the biggest idiot in the world because he doesn’t see it.

“What’s the code?” Rigger asks, jerking his gun toward the safe built into the bookcase behind Neal’s desk.

“I’m not giving you that.”

Aiming again, I blow a hole through his shoulder. Neal screams and falls back into the chair, gripping his wound.

“Code?” Rigger repeats.

Neal gives it to him through choked sobs, caving like the weak man he is. This is what happens when you don’t have something to believe in. If the roles were reversed, I know without a doubt that my brothers would die protecting our club’s secrets. Whether they suffered hours, days, or years of torture, they wouldn’t break.

Neal doesn’t have that, though. All he has is an empire that’ll die along with him, making his life the most important thing he possesses. It’s pathetic.

Rigger pops open the safe to find it full of files, cash, and false identities. It must be his backup plan in case he needs to bail, shit that should be stored somewhere hard to find, but this dumb fuck keeps it in the first place anyone would look. How the hell has he survived this long?

“Give me a name,” I say.

The whole front of Neal’s shirt is saturated in blood now, and all his fight is gone. He’s accepted his fate and knows I hold the power over how long this will go on.

“Jeremy Defort.”

I shoot Rigger a look. He takes my meaning and digs through the files until he locates the one we need. Shifting my gaze to Judge, he rests his Tac on his shoulder before taking the folder and running it out to Satyr, returning seconds later.

“What did you expect me to do?” Neal mumbles the question.

“What’s that?”

“What did you expect me to do?” he repeats louder. “You took her from me and then threatened me. You know the score. If I allowed shit like that to happen, I’d be laughed out of the business. There are eyes everywhere. Someone is always watching for the smallest sign of weakness to step in and take what you have. So what did you expect me to do?”

“I see your point,” I say, walking over to him and taking a seat on the edge of his desk.

He perks up, hope in his eyes. “I had to do it. Trust me, I didn’t want to. Tinleigh is something special. No matter what I did to her, she wouldn’t break. Do you know how rare that is? Once word got out—shit, man. There was a bidding war over her. If I didn’t have to make an example out of her, I would’ve kept her forever.”

The demons inside me claw up my body, fighting and scratching to be let out. I’m losing the hold on my control, and the only thing stopping me from letting it all out is knowing Tinleigh’s life depends on me. I couldn’t live with myself knowing she was out there suffering because I lost control.

“You’re saying it’s my fault you sold her because I beat the shit out of you?”

“I’m saying she’s gone. You might as well accept it and move on. Killing me isn’t going to change anything.”

“But it’ll make me feel so fuckin’ good.”

He huffs. “You think this ends with me? You’re not fuckin’ listening. The second I’m gone, someone else will pop up in my place, taking over right where I left off. Might as well keep me around knowing I owe you one.”

“The only thing I want from you is my goddamn woman back,” I roar.

He glances over at me, smiling. “How does it feel to be a failure?”

Before I can rein it in, the demons take over. I tuck my gun in my pants and pull my knife from the holster on my belt. Moving behind him, I grip his blood-soaked hair, yank his head back and, in one fluid movement, slice across his throat from ear to ear. He chokes and sputters as blood pours from his wound and eventually spills from his mouth and nose. I keep his head tipped back so the flow of blood isn’t staunched, and Neal’s wide eyes lock on me as he grips his throat, trying to keep himself from dying. It’s a wasted effort.

“Fuck you!” I roar, sending my frustration, disappointment, anger, and failure out into the world.

This is the end for him, but it’s not the end for Tinleigh. I will find her. I will rescue her, and goddamn it, she will be okay.

“I got it.” Rigger places a hand on my shoulder, and I glare over at him, still lost to the madness. “Get it together, brother. I’ve been right where you’re at and know how it feels, but losing your shit right now won’t get Tinleigh back.”

I release my hold on Neal’s hair, sending him forward where his head bounces off the desk, and he slumps to the side. Blood quickly pools on his desk, dripping off the edge, and his monitor and keyboard are sprayed in red. This massacre should make me feel better, even if only a little, but it doesn’t.

My shoulders fall, knowing Rigger’s right. “Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

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