Page 67 of Rage

The words blur as tears fill my eyes.I stumble, overwhelmed by the violation.

Mason scoops me into his arms, carrying me out of this nightmare and into the cool night air.As we reach his truck, I finally let the tears fall, sobs racking my body.

“I’ve got you,” Mason murmurs, his voice rough with emotion.“You’re safe now.I won’t let them hurt you.”

* * *

MASON

Rage burns through my veins as I carry Meadow to my truck.Her body shakes with sobs, face buried against my chest.Every tear, every broken whimper, fuels the inferno inside me.

I want blood.I want to tear Peterson and his goons apart with my bare hands.To make them suffer for daring to violate what’s mine.

But Meadow needs me.Her pain takes precedence over me being pissed.

I settle her into the passenger seat, buckling her in with gentle hands.She looks so small, so fragile.Nothing like the fierce woman I know her to be.It breaks something inside me to see her this way.

“I’ve got you, darlin’,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead.“You’re safe now.”

As I slide into the driver’s seat, my phone buzzes.Liam’s name flashes on the screen.

“Yeah,” I answer, voice clipped.

“Where are you?”Liam demands.“Tracker shows you’re not at the hospital.”

I glance at Meadow, debating how much to say.She meets my gaze, eyes red-rimmed but determined.She nods, giving me silent permission.

“Meadow’s apartment.It’s… Fuck, Liam.It’s bad.”

Silence stretches for a beat.Then, “How bad?”

I relay the details in terse sentences, each word tasting like ash.Liam’s breathing grows heavier, punctuated by muffled curses.

“Bring her to the clubhouse,” he orders.“Now.I’m calling an emergency meeting.”

“On our way,” I confirm, ending the call.

I peel out of the parking lot, tires squealing against asphalt.One hand finds Meadow’s, our fingers intertwining.She clings to me like a lifeline.

“It’s going to be okay,” I promise, though the words feel hollow.“We’ll make this right.”

Meadow’s grip tightens.When she speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper.“They were in my home, Mason.My bed.I can’t… I can’t go back there.”

My jaw clenches so hard it aches.“You won’t have to.Ever.We’ll get you new things.A new place.Whatever you need.”

She nods, falling silent.The rest of the drive passes in a haze of fury and helplessness.

As we pull into the clubhouse lot, I see bikes lined up outside.Word travels fast in our world.

The cavalry has arrived.

* * *

MEADOW

Rage burns through me, hot and vicious.My fingers dig into the leather seat, knuckles white.Fuck sadness.This is war.

“Someone’s pissed,” Mason says, a hint of admiration in his voice.

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