Page 42 of Rage

“You sure about this, son?”he asks quietly.“Using yourself as bait… it’s a hell of a risk.”

I nod, my resolve unwavering.“I’m sure, Dad.Meadow’s worth it.She’s… everything.”

He studies me for a long moment, then nods.“All right.But you’re not doing this alone.I’ve got your back, always.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I say, the words inadequate for the surge of emotion in my chest.

I push through the crowd, eager to check on Meadow.The clubhouse reeks of leather and stale beer.Voices fade as I climb the stairs, taking them two at a time.

A hand on my arm stops me.Mom.Her eyes, so much like mine, search my face.

“My baby,” she murmurs, pulling me into a hug.

I let her fuss, knowing it’s pointless to resist.Dad appears behind her, lips twitching with amusement.Traitor.

“I’m fine, Mom,” I grumble, but I don’t pull away.

The hall fills with noise.Other mothers descend on their sons like a flock of leather-clad hens.Christopher, all six-foot-four of him, endures his mom’s attention with the patience of a saint.Reid isn’t so lucky, squirming as his mom checks him for invisible injuries.

“Enough,” I say, gently disentangling myself from Mom’s grip.“I need to check on Meadow.”

Mom nods, reluctantly stepping back.“Take care of her,” she says softly.“And yourself.”

I nod, throat tight.The need to see Meadow, to touch her, to make sure she’s real and whole and safe, claws at my insides.

“Go on,” Dad says, wrapping an arm around Mom’s shoulders.“We’ll handle things down here.”

I don’t need to be told twice.I take the remaining stairs three at a time, my heart pounding in sync with my footsteps.The door to my room looms ahead, a barrier between me and the woman who’s become my whole world.

I pause outside the door, my hand hovering over the knob.The weight of the night’s events crashes over me, threatening to drown me in a tidal wave of rage and fear.Meadow’s terrified face flashes before my eyes, the glint of the scalpel at her throat.The sickening sound of flesh tearing.Her body trembling against mine.

My fists clench at my sides, knuckles white with fury.Every fiber of my being screams to hunt Peterson down, to make him pay for each bruise, each drop of blood he’s drawn from her.But Meadow needs me here.Now.

I force the rage back down.Later.There’ll be time for vengeance later.

The door creaks as I push it open, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness.Darkness envelops the room, broken only by slivers of streetlight seeping through the curtains.My eyes adjust, landing on the small form curled up on my bed.Meadow.My heart clenches at the sight of her, so vulnerable in sleep.

“Meadow?”I keep my voice low, not wanting to startle her.

She stirs, a soft whimper escaping her lips.My chest tightens at the sound.I’m at her side in an instant, perching on the edge of the bed.

“Mason?”Her voice is rough, heavy with sleep and something else.Fear?Pain?

“I’m here, darlin’.”I reach out, my hand finding hers in the darkness.Her fingers curl around mine, grip desperate.“How you feeling?”

Meadow pushes herself up, wincing.I slide an arm behind her, supporting her weight.She leans into me, her body molding against mine like it was made to fit there.

“Sore,” she admits.Her breath is warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine.“But better now.With you here.”

The simple honesty in her words hits me like a sucker punch to the gut.I gather her closer, careful of her injuries.She burrows into me, face pressed against my chest.I breathe her in.My world narrows to this moment, this woman in my arms.

“I was so scared,” she whispers, voice muffled against my shirt.“When Peterson had that scalpel… I thought…”

“Shh.”I run a hand down her back, feeling the tremors that run through her.“It’s over now.You’re safe.I’ve got you.”

Meadow pulls back, just enough to look up at me.Even in the dim light, I can see the fear lingering in her eyes.“Is it really over, though?He’s still out there, Mason.What if he comes back?What if next time?—”

I press a finger to her lips, silencing her.“There won’t be a next time,” I say, the promise fierce and unshakable.“We’ve got a plan.We’re going to end this, once and for all.”

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