Page 70 of Property of Spike

Mike stiffens. “I’m sorry, Prez, but I followed protocol. You can check the camera inside the box. I called it in.”

“To who?” Spike demands.

Mike hesitates. “Max.”

Silence slams into the room like a freight train.

“He’s approved plenty of entrances before,” Mike adds quickly. “It’s never been an issue.”

“He knew Billy was blacklisted,” Tank says, his voice low, deadly.

“He also knew everything about that last run,” Bones adds. “A team was waiting to take us out when we arrived at the buyer’s location. This can’t be a coincidence, Spike.”

The air turns ice-cold.

“Where is he now?” Spike asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mike shifts uncomfortably. “He stayed at the gate when he sent me here.”

A sudden, crushing realization slams into me like a tidal wave, stealing my breath.

“Spike,” I whisper, my heart pounding so hard it hurts.

He turns to me, eyes burning with barely restrained rage.

“Max has Asher.”

For a moment, the room is frozen. No one breathes. No one moves. Then Spike explodes.

“Find him!” he roars, sending a chair flying across the room.

Men scatter like a well-oiled machine, weapons drawn, barking orders into radios. My stomach twists, nausea clawing up my throat.

“Riley, stay here,” Spike orders, but I’m already moving.

“Like hell, I will!” I snap, shoving past him. “That’s my son, Spike!”

His hands clamp down on my arms, but I fight against him, desperation overriding reason. “I swear, if you waste time trying to keep me locked in here instead of finding my baby, I will never forgive you.”

His jaw clenches. A storm rages behind his eyes, but after a beat, he jerks his head. “Stay at my side. You don’t leave my sight.”

I nod frantically, and just like that, we’re moving.

“Mike, watch her fucking back.”

“On it, Prez,” he says, his voice heavy.

The clubhouse is in chaos and my mind is a blur, panic pressing in on all sides as I chase after Spike.

A sickening dread coils in my stomach as I look around, searching for any sign of Asher. My hands are trembling, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

Then, a crackle comes through the radio.

“Gate’s wide open,” comes a voice. “No one is here.”

My knees nearly buckle, but Spike is already moving.

“Get eyes on every camera between here and the highway!” Spike shouts. “Find that fucking traitor.”

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