Page 66 of Ruger's Rage

"There's a note." My voice sounds distant to my own ears. "On my car."

He moves immediately, grabbing the paper before I can get to it. "Get back inside. Now."

I obey without question, heart hammering in my chest as I watch him through the window.

He unfolds the note, his expression darkening as he reads.

After a quick scan of the parking lot, he follows me inside.

I already know it's from Marco. "What does it say?"

Ruger hands me the paper, his restraint visibly cracking. "He's playing games."

The note is brief, written in familiar handwriting that sends a chill down my spine:

Matilda, did you really think changing your name would be enough? You belong with me. This protection won't last. Come home before people get hurt.

No signature. It’s not needed, really.

"He was here." My voice shakes even with my efforts to control it. "He was right here, Ruger. With Rookie watching."

"Or someone working for him." Ruger's jaw is tight, eyes burning with fury. "Rookie didn't see anyone approach your car?"

"Apparently not."

"I'll deal with him later." He takes the note back, folding it carefully. "Evidence."

This isn’t over, not by a long shot.

Everything hits me all at once—this is real, Marco found me, and he's not going to stop until he gets what he wants.

Me. Back under his control. Or dead.

"I need to talk to Ellie," I say suddenly. "I need to convince her to come to the compound."

Ruger studies me for a moment, then nods. "I'll find her."

Ellie emerges from the office, concern etched on her face when she sees our expressions. "What's happened?"

I hold up the note. "Marco left this on my car. He knows where I am, Ellie. He knows I'm here."

She takes the paper, her face paling as she reads. "Oh, honey."

"Please come to the clubhouse," I plead. "If he knows about me, he knows about you too. About us being close."

She hesitates, looking between me and Ruger. "The bar?—"

"Can run without you for a few days," Ruger interrupts. "We'll put brothers on rotation to keep it open. But I need both of you safe, Aunt Ellie. Please."

Something in his voice—a bit of fear, I suspect, few people ever hear—seems to reach her.

"All right," she finally agrees. "Let me pack a bag."

We end up leaving my car at the bar just in case it was tampered with in any way.

While Ellie packs a couple of bags, Ruger takes me into my trailer, and I’m able to get some more clothes options for myself, even some of my skincare.

We head back outside, and Ellie’s waiting at the door of her truck. The moment she sees us, she opens it and tosses her bag in the middle.

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