Page 46 of Rage

“I want to help,” I manage, hating how small my voice sounds.

Mason’s jaw tics.He opens his mouth, but Christopher beats him to it.

“Come on, Mase,” he says, clapping a hand on Mason’s shoulder.“Girl’s tough as nails.Maybe she can give us some insight.”

Mason’s eyes narrow, a silent battle raging behind them.I hold my breath, caught in the crossfire of their wordless exchange.

“Meadow.”The warning in his tone is clear.His eyes flick to Christopher, who takes the hint and makes himself scarce.Once we’re alone, Mason cups my face in his hands, his touch gentle despite the steel in his voice.“We talked about this last night.You agreed to stay out of it.”

I bite my lip, torn between the need to help and the desire to honor my promise.“I know, but?—”

“No buts,” Mason cuts me off.His thumb traces my bottom lip, the gesture oddly intimate given our surroundings.“Your job right now is to heal.Let me take care of the rest.”

The possessiveness in his tone sends heat through me, even as part of me bristles at being sidelined.I’m about to argue further, when a commotion near the entrance catches our attention.

Konrad runs through the door, his face grim.“We’ve got a problem,” he announces to the room at large.“Peterson’s made contact.”

The clubhouse erupts into chaos.Mason’s arm wraps around me instinctively as he turns to face Konrad.“What kind of contact?”he demands.

Konrad’s eyes flick to me, then back to Mason.“You’re gonna want to see this for yourself, brother.”

As Mason moves to follow Konrad, I grab his arm.“I’m coming with you,” I insist.

For a moment, I think he’ll refuse.But then he nods, his expression grave.“Stay close,” he orders.

Together, we make our way through the crowd, my heart pounding with each step.Whatever Peterson’s done, I know one thing for certain: we will get him.

As we follow Konrad into a side room, my stomach churns with dread.The air feels thick, oppressive.Mason’s hand on my lower back is the only thing keeping me grounded.

Konrad gestures to a laptop on the desk, its screen glowing ominously in the dimly lit room.“This came about an hour ago.Courier dropped it off at the hospital’s front desk.”

Mason pulls me closer as Konrad inserts a small flash drive into the computer.The screen flickers to life, and I let out a hiss.

Peterson’s face fills the frame, his eyes wild and bloodshot.But it’s not him that draws my horrified gaze, it’s the figure beside him.Sarah, one of the nurses I work with, trembles in Peterson’s grip.Her eyes are wide with terror, tears streaming down her face.The barrel of a gun presses against her temple.

“Hello, Meadow.”Peterson’s voice crackles through the speakers, dripping with malice.“I hope this message finds you well.As you can see, I have a guest with me today.”

Sarah whimpers as Peterson tightens his grip on her hair.I feel Mason tense beside me, his body coiled like a spring ready to snap.

“You thought you could ruin me, didn’t you?”Peterson continues, his voice rising.“Thought you and your biker thug could take everything from me?Well, now it’s my turn.”

He presses the gun harder against Sarah’s head, eliciting a muffled sob.“Here’s how this is going to work.Every day you don’t turn yourself over to me, someone dies.Your coworkers, your friends, maybe even some of those leather-clad degenerates you call family.”

My legs wobble, threatening to give out.Mason’s arm around my waist is the only thing keeping me upright.

“The choice is yours, Meadow,” Peterson sneers.“How many people are you willing to sacrifice to save yourself?I’ll be in touch with instructions.Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

The screen goes black, plunging the room into silence.For a moment, no one moves.The weight of Peterson’s threat hangs heavy in the air, suffocating.

Then, all at once, chaos erupts.Voices overlap, shouting suggestions and accusations.I barely hear them over the roaring in my ears.Sarah’s terrified face is burned into my mind, her silent plea for help echoing in my head.

“I have to go to him.”The words scrape out of my throat, barely audible.“I can’t let anyone else get hurt because of me.”

Mason’s fingers dig into my waist.“Not a fucking chance,” he says, his breath hot on my ear.“We’re not playing his game.”

I whirl to face him, vision blurring.“But Sarah?—”

“We’ll get her back.”His voice cuts like steel, brooking no argument.

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