Page 93 of Lucky's Trouble

I go back to doing fuck all, swearing to start paying attention when Satyr’s spouting off his computer bullshit so I can help next time. I’ve always felt confident in my position in the club as the muscle, the guy with the intimidating size who stopped men in their tracks. Lot of good that does right now.

“Okay.” Satyr pulls over a second laptop and mashes some keys before handing it to me. “I loaded the security feed all the way from six weeks ago to the day we picked up Tinleigh. You two can sift through it while I chase around this bank transaction.”

I set the laptop in front of us and hit play. It’s nearly midnight, but there’ll be no sleep until Tinleigh’s back home.

“Here, thought you guys could use a pick-me-up.” Sugar sets fresh cups of coffee in front of us.

“Thanks,” Rigger says, taking a sip.

“Are you any closer to finding her?” she asks.

Peering over at my second mom, I notice the dark circles under her eyes and her worried expression. She rarely shows her face without makeup, but she doesn’t have a stitch on right now, and her usual tight jeans and revealing top have been switched out for a robe and pajama pants. It isn’t just me who’s affected by this mess; Sugar was starting to think of Tinleigh as a daughter.

“We’re working on some leads,” I say.

She wrings her hands together. “Good.”

“How’s Myla?”

“She’s okay. Sleeping. The pain meds Bones has her on wipe her out.” She shakes her head. “Poor thing. Every time she wakes up, she asks about Tinleigh.”

According to Bones, Myla’s walking away with a shit ton of bruises, a few cuts that needed stitches, a sprained wrist and ankle, a broken nose, and a cracked rib, neither of which needed a hospital. Since she showed no signs of internal bleeding, we can keep her here with us where we can protect her and keep any well-intentioned nurses from bringing law enforcement in to poke around.

She has a long recovery ahead of her since her body went through some serious trauma, but she’ll be okay. It relieves a massive weight from my shoulders.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on her. It takes some of the stress off knowing you have her back.”

“It’s nothing. Glad I could help. Actually, I better go wake her up. Bones said not to let her sleep too many hours in a row due to the concussion.”

“Appreciate you, Sugar,” I say, mustering up some kindness.

“Anything for you, boys, you know that.” She points to the stainless-steel carafe behind the bar. “There’s more coffee in there.”

After she heads out the back door, Rigger and I get back to work.

“Is it hard seeing her like this?” Rigger gestures to the computer screen that shows Tinleigh grinding on a random man’s lap.

I hit fast-forward on a dude who doesn’t match Karina’s description. “No, that ain’t her. That’s Stormy.”

“Yeah,” he draws out. “But it also ain’t.”

“What’s it like knowing your dad fucked your girl?” I return.

“Hey! Fuck you, asshole!”

I blow out a breath. “Sorry. That was below the belt.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“When I first met Tinleigh, it was obvious she wore a mask most of the time. This right here is all an act. Her expressions, how she moves and is dressed, none of it’s the real her. So no, it doesn’t bother me to see her like this because I know I’m the one who gets the genuine one. I get Tinleigh. These assholes got Stormy, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah, it does.” He clamps a hand on my shoulder. “I’m happy for you, brother.”

“Yeah, well, none of it will mean shit if I can’t get her back.”

“There’s no way someone paid a shit ton of money just to take her off to the desert and kill her. Whoever has her is keeping her alive, which means we have time.”

His words are meant to reassure me, but they only remind me of all the things she could be going through right now. She’s the strongest woman I know, but she’s been through too much already. At some point, she’ll break. I just hope to whatever god is out there that I get to her before that happens.

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