Page 50 of Rage

As if reading my thoughts, Mom pulls back and cups my face in her hands.Her eyes are filled with fierce determination.“Listen to me, Meadow.You are stronger than you know.And you have all of us behind you.We will end this.”

I nod, not trusting my voice.Mom presses a kiss to my forehead before turning to help with the preparations.

Reid argues with his mother, insisting he’s well enough to go check on Lily.Christopher and a few others gear up, ready to provide backup.Mason confers with my dad in low, urgent tones.

I feel useless, perched on this chair while everyone else springs into action.The doctor in me itches to do more, to help in some tangible way.But as I shift, pain lances through my injured leg, a stark reminder of my limitations.

Mason catches my eye from across the room.In an instant, he’s by my side, his hand warm on my shoulder.“How you holding up, darlin’?”he asks, voice low with concern.

“I’m fine,” I lie, forcing a smile.“Just worried about everyone else.”

His eyes narrow, seeing right through me.“We’re going to fix this,” he says, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

I want to believe him.God, how I want to believe him.But as Reid and the others prepare to leave, I know they’re heading out into a world where danger lurks around every corner.

The weight of responsibility settles heavy on my shoulders.All of this—the injuries, the fear, the looming threat—it’s because of me.Because Peterson’s obsessed with making me pay.

As if sensing my spiraling thoughts, Mason crouches down, bringing his face level with mine.“Hey,” he says softly, tilting my chin up.“This is not your fault.You hear me?None of this is on you.”

I meet Mason’s gaze, the intensity in his eyes stealing my breath.For a fleeting moment, I let myself believe him.Let myself think that maybe, just maybe, we can get through this.

A sharp electronic chime cuts through the tension.My head snaps toward the TV still playing in the background.The scrolling news ticker catches my eye, and my stomach drops.

“Oh my God,” I breathe, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

Names.So many names.Women coming forward one after another, their stories a horrifying tapestry of abuse and exploitation.Peterson’s victims, spanning years, decades even.It all makes my skin crawl.

“Mason,” I choke out, grabbing his arm.“Look.”

His jaw clenches as he takes in the news.I can feel the fury radiating from him in waves.

A nurse’s tearful testimony fills the screen.“They said they’d hurt my family if I didn’t… if I didn’t do what they wanted.”Her voice cracks, and I feel bile rise in my throat.

The clubhouse door crashes open, startling me.River strides in, leading a group of Grim Sinners Rebels as they’re hauling crates of equipment.

“I heard we got us a trafficker that needs to be taken down?”River’s voice is all steel and venom, a predatory gleam in her eye.

Mason’s arm tightens around me.“River,” he nods, his voice low and dangerous.“Glad you could join the party.”

River’s gaze sweeps the room, taking in the tense faces, the bloodied bandages.Her eyes land on me, narrowing slightly.“Doc,” she says, a hint of respect in her tone.“You good?”

I nod, not trusting my voice.The weight of everything—the attack, the news, River’s arrival—it’s overwhelming.My leg throbs, a constant reminder of how close we came to a disaster.

“All right,” River claps her hands, all business, “let’s get set up.We’ve got a bastard to catch.”

The room erupts into a flurry of activity.Rebels and Sinners working side by side, unpacking equipment, setting up monitors.It’s like watching a well-oiled machine spring into action.

There hasn’t been a war in the MC in a long time, hell, since before we were born.

A chill runs down my spine at the realization of how far this has gone and how much darker than just Peterson.

Women have been ruined by this man for so many years, and fierce anger blossoms from the pit of my stomach.

The only way this can end is if all of them die.

nine

MASON

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