Page 84 of Jolt's Vengeance

"Almost there, man," I tell him, trying to keep my voice light. "Just hang in there a little longer."

As we lower Paulie to the ground, I catch Widow's eye.

There's a glimmer of respect there, and it hits me—this is a test, too.

Not just for Paulie, but for me.

How I handle this, how I react, it's all being noted.

I swallow hard, pushing down the mix of emotions churning in my gut.

This is the life I chose, the family I want to be part of.

And if that means patching up the guy we just tortured, well, that's what I'll do.

"Let's get you cleaned up," I tell Paulie, my voice steadier than I feel. "Can't have our new informant looking like he just went ten rounds with a meat grinder, can we?"

The air in the bunker feels heavy as we finish patching up Paulie, thick with the lingering scent of fear and blood.

I catch Widow's eye, and he gives me a subtle nod.

We've done our job.

"All right, get outta here," Widow growls at Paulie, who doesn't need to be told twice.

He scrambles to his feet, wincing at every movement, and bolts for the door.

I watch him go, my mind racing.

This shit with the Kodiaks, it's escalating fast.

Widow’s phone goes off and his eyes flicker to mine. "Head back to the club, prospect."

Licking my lips, I furrow my brows. "I’m good, Widow. We have a lot of cleanin’ up to do here."

Widow clears his throat. "I wasn’t askin’. You get your ass back there. Your girl’s in the main area, and she’s not good. Someone beat ‘er, so get the fuck outta here and go check on ‘er."

He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

I run like a bat out of hell, get on my bike, and ride to the clubhouse.

I don’t even know how much time has passed when I’m rushing through the clubhouse doors and find a group of women around Aggie.

Sera, Siren, Sakura, Kat, and Camila are all there.

Sakura’s tending to her wounds, while the rest of the ladies are trying to be supportive for her.

I waste no time getting over to her, "What in the hell happened, Ghost?"

It’s then I see the cut going from the bottom of her chin all the way down to her sternum.

Aggie's emerald eyes, normally full of fire and defiance are murky—clouded over with pain and fear as she meets my gaze.

Her bleached blonde hair is matted with blood, strands sticking to the fresh wound that mars her beautiful face.

A sight that sends waves of seething rage coursing through me.

"Aye, Jolt," she rasps out, sobbing silently. "It was Trevor."

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