Page 86 of Spinner's Luck

Fang wasn’t giving up, especially not now that he knew I was spying on their club. I was truly fucked.

I LOST HER.

I leaned my head back against the steel container, jaw clenched so damn tight it hurt. Anger twisted in my gut, hot and ugly.How the hell did I let this happen?My thoughts circled back to the start, retracing every step, every word, looking for the crack I missed.

I had been on the dock, waiting on the shipment. The faint hum of the cargo ship in the distance only added to the weight of what was about to go down. My boots moved quietly against the wood as my eyes scanned the area, my senses sharp.

Lucy was here—I could feel it.

Smell her.

Then I saw it: a faint glint of something shiny reflecting off one of the containers. My grin spread slowly, predatory and full of teeth.

Lucy was fucking spying.

Oh, you naughty bitch.

“Fan out,” I ordered quietly, my voice low enough that only the men nearest me would hear. “Someone’s snakin’ the place. I want eyes on every corner of this damn maze.”

My men moved like shadows, slipping between the containers, their presence barely more than whispers. I stayed back, keeping my focus sharp, scanning every flicker of movement, every shift in the darkness.

And then I saw her.

She was crouched behind a container, her silhouette backlit by the faint glow of the dock lights. Even in the dimness, I knew it was her—there was no mistaking that shape, that stillness. I knew every curve, every angle.

I knew Lucy.

The grin on my lips turned cruel. “There you are,” I murmured under my breath.

I raised a hand, signaling my men to hold back. This one was mine.

I circled around, keeping to the shadows so she wouldn’t see me coming, my boots silent on the ground.

“Well, well,” I growled, stepping into view. “Look who we have here, curiosity really is a dangerous habit, isn’t it, Lucy?”

Her head snapped up, her eyes locking onto mine. Even now, caught red-handed, there was defiance in her stare. She didn’t freeze or stumble—she moved, darting out from behind the container with a speed that caught me off guard.

“Shit!” I hissed, breaking into a run.

“Go!” I barked at my men, motioning toward the other side of the container. “Cut her off!”

The chase was on.

I sprinted after her, the sound of my boots pounding against the ground echoing through the docks. She weaved through the rows of containers like she’d mapped the place out beforehand, her movements quick and precise.

But I was faster. Stronger. Smarter.

“Give it up, Lucy!” I shouted, my voice cutting through the night. “You’re only making this harder on yourself!”

She didn’t look back, didn’t respond. She just ran, her hair whipping behind her as she turned a sharp corner. The adrenaline coursed through my veins, every step pushing me closer.

This is why she gets my blood hot and my cock pulsing like no one else. No one could play this game like her. No one made it this fun.

I rounded the corner just in time to see her slipping through a narrow gap between two containers. Cursing, I skidded to a stop, forcing my shoulders through the tight space to follow her.

The gap opened up into another row, and I spotted her again. Her pace faltered for just a second—she glanced over her shoulder.

Big mistake.

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