Page 75 of Blue

Her neck felt like Jell-O as she rolled her head around, trying to locate anything to intrigue her mind and to remain alive. Not allowing herself to blink, made her eyes burn.

Blink.

Oh, that’s nice.

Relief wafted over her.

This was better.

Darkness, warm and cozy. Reality flittered away. The odor of her own stomach contents spilled on the comforter faded. Instead, she’d curled up on a soft, pillowy rainbow cloud.

Mooky

It could have been fifteen minutes or seventeen hours. It felt the same. Mooky had lost all sense of time. The grainy image on the phone of Blue huddled on that dirty ass blanket in the dark and dank basement taunted him.

She looked so helpless and frail. Blue was many things, but weak would never be how he described her. Magnificent, sexy, bold—those fit her a thousand times better. Helpless didnotlook good on her. Mooky would do anything to strip her of that. Her strength didn’t need that insult.

“Got it!” Dash proclaimed.

The VP of his club came trotting toward him with his phone in his hand. Mittens looked up from his own phone as he headed toward the other two.

“Sam came through,” Dash declared.

Mooky’s heart pinched, but he couldn’t get his hopes up. He couldn’t feel any respite just yet. They didn’t have her. When they did, he’d allow himself to feel any semblance of reprieve.

“Seems Holt borrowed something he wasn’t supposed to since he got suspended after the little bar incident.” Dash tapped at his screen.

Eagerly, Mooky turned his attention to the screen.

He wasn’t sure what Holt took besides Blue, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting more information about where she was so they could get her.

“Looks like he’s on Pearl Street.” Dash pointed to a blip on his phone screen.

“Still there?” Mooky grunted. He didn’t know the area, but he’d figure it out.

“According to Sam, he hasn’t moved the stolen unmarked car in over an hour,” the VP answered.

Nodding, that was all Mooky needed. Repeating the address in his mind, he stalked toward his bike.

He had a mission.

He had a location.

He hoped he had enough time.

With a tight grasp on the throttle, he started the bike. As it roared to life, he twisted the grip and kicked the stand up. After a few taps on his phone, he had a route. Time to get his woman.

He didn’t have to look back. Dash and Mittens would follow. They were his brothers through and through. They’d support him. It didn’t matter if they liked Blue or not, Mooky did. That’s all that fucking mattered.

Blue was all that mattered.

As the bikers pulled up, the black Ford Police Interceptor sedan pulled out from in front of the dilapidated white house on Pearl Street. Mitten’s bike thundered past Mooky as he planted his feet on the pavement.

Had he been alone, he would’ve had to choose between chasing Holt down or getting to Blue. Never had he been more grateful for his brothers than in that moment. He could keep his focus on Blue while his brothers caught up with Officer Assface.

After he cut the engine to his bike, he sprinted toward the house with his heart threatening to beat out of chest.

If he were thinking clearly, he might have checked the doorknob. It might not have been locked. But Mooky didn’t have time for that, and neither did Blue. So, using his shoulder, he plowed through the closed door. Splintered wood shattered around him as he barreled into the small living room.

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