Page 99 of Ruger's Rage

"You're okay," he murmurs into my hair. "Thank fuckin’ God."

I cling to him, savoring his solid presence. "Sarah's hurt. Ellie's still in there. We have the girls hiding away in a tree so they stay safe. Marco’s?—"

"I know." He releases me, eyes hardening. "We dealt with his men outside. Bloodhound's clearing the cabin now."

"How did you know?" Kinsey asks.

"Striker fucked up," Ruger explains grimly. "Left a note. Striker was tryin’ to set us up again."

"What about him?"

Ruger's expression darkens further. "Still out there. But not for long."

A shout from the cabin draws our attention.

Bloodhound appears in the doorway, waving us forward. "All clear!" he calls.

Ruger keeps me close as we approach, his body tense, ready for any threat. "Marco?"

"Gone," Bloodhound reports. "Must have slipped out when we arrived. Left his men to cover his escape."

"Fuckin’ coward," Ruger mutters.

Inside, the cabin is a disaster of broken furniture and shattered glass.

Ellie kneels beside Sarah on the floor, pressing blood-soaked towels to her wound.

"She needs a hospital," Ellie says, her own face sporting a vicious bruise along the jawline. "Now."

Ruger barks orders, and brothers materialize to carefully lift Sarah onto a makeshift stretcher.

She's conscious but barely, her skin paler than before.

"Did I... hold them off... long enough?" she asks, voice faint.

"You did great," I tell her, squeezing her hand. "We're safe because of you."

A small smile touches her lips before her eyes flutter closed.

As they carry her out, Ruger pulls me close again. "This isn't over," he warns. "Marco and Striker are still out there."

"I know." I lean into his strength, allowing myself this moment of comfort before facing what comes next. "But we're not running anymore. Any of us."

Coin comes rushing up, looking around, and I know what he’s looking for.

“Kinsey and I put them up in the trees, away and out of sightlines,” I tell him, relief immediately flooding his face.

“Thank you. Which direction?” Coin asks.

Kinsey offers, “I’ll take you.”

The two of them head out to go get his teenage girls, but from the doorway, Bloodhound calls out, "Prez, we found something you should see."

Keeping an arm around me, Ruger moves to where his Sergeant at Arms stands, holding a phone.

"Striker's been communicating with someone inside the club," Bloodhound says grimly. "Someone besides Rookie."

Ruger takes the phone, scrolling through messages with growing fury. "Son of a bitch," he mutters. "There's another traitor."

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