Page 58 of Her Possessive Bikers

Jacoby drops into a chair, dabbing at his split lip. "You think you're the only one? Man, every time she smiles at me, it's like..." He trails off, shaking his head.

"Like what?" I press, needing to hear it.

"Like seeing the sun after weeks of rain," he finishes quietly.

Tres leans against the wall, arms crossed. The usual hardness in his eyes softens. "When she's around, I forget I'm supposed to be this tough-as-nails president. She makes me want things I haven't wanted in years."

"A real life," I whisper.

"Yeah." Tres runs a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "A fucking normal life. With her."

"She's got us all wrapped around her finger," Jacoby laughs, but there's no humor in it. "And she probably doesn't even know it."

The silence that follows feels heavy with unspoken truths. We're three grown men, hardened bikers, all brought to ourknees by one woman. If the situation wasn't so serious, it'd be almost funny.

"So what the fuck do we do?" I ask, voicing what we're all thinking.

"First," Tres pushes off the wall, "we find her. Then..." He shrugs. "We let her decide. If she even wants any of us."

Tres runs a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "Get your shit together, both of you. We need to focus on finding her, not this dick-measuring contest. Are we clear?"

I nod, shame replacing anger. He's right - this isn't helping anyone, especially not Indy.

"Crystal," Jacoby says, though his tone suggests this isn't over.

I strap my gun into its holster, fingers trembling slightly as I check the clip for the third time. The weight of it against my ribs doesn't comfort me like it usually does. My kutte feels heavier tonight, like it's carrying all the promises I made to Brick about protecting his little girl.

"You good?" Tres asks, leaning against the doorframe of the armory.

"Yeah, I'll be better when we find her." I grab extra ammo, stuffing it in my pockets.

He nods. "Understood."

The silence stretches between us, filled with unspoken tension about Indy. I grab my knife, securing it to my ankle. "You think she's okay?"

"She's Indiana Cooper." Tres' voice carries more confidence than I feel. "Probably giving them hell right now."

I try to smile but it feels wrong. The image of her face, the way she looked below me that night, keeps flashing through my mind. "If they hurt her-"

"They're dead either way." Jacoby's voice cuts through the room as he strides in, already geared up. "But we do this smart.No heroics, no lone wolf bullshit. We have to work as a team or we don't work at all."

I nod, checking my boots are laced tight. "Whatever it takes to get her back."

"Whatever it takes," Jacoby echoes.

I pull my hair back into a tight bun, remembering how Indy once said it made me look less "pretty boy" and more "warrior." The memory makes my chest ache. "Let's go get our girl."

34

INDY

The door crashes open, and two burly men stomp in. The chains around my ankles rattle as I try to back away, but there's nowhere to go. They grab my arms, their fingers digging into my skin as they drag me across the room to a metal chair.

"Get your fucking hands off me," I spit, but they just laugh and shove me down.

Cold metal bites into my wrists as they secure them behind my back. The zip ties are too tight, cutting off circulation. One of them yanks my hair, forcing my head back.

The taller one circles behind me, his boots scuffing against the concrete floor. "Ready to talk, princess?"

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