Page 53 of Better as It

“Most likely. I’ve got eyes on the interstate. We’ll track the plates.”

“Then we ride.”

“Not yet,” Tripp snaps. “They’ve got a pregnant woman. This isn’t a bloodbath mission. We do this smart. Clean.”

“You better find her fast,” I growl, voice shaking. “Because if something happens to her or our baby, I’ll fucking burn the world down around them all.”

Hours pass in agony.I’m not a patient man.

No word.

No clue.

Every second is hell.

Every minute without her is another inch of me unraveling.

The rest of the club is scrambling—reaching out to contacts, leaning on allies, pushing the Vulcans out of hiding.

But me?

I’m stuck in limbo. I sit in her rocking chair in the nursery—empty walls, unassembled crib—and press my hand to my chest.

She was just here.

She made tea this morning. Kissed my shoulder. Laughed at my failed attempt to fold baby socks.

And now she’s gone..

Injected.

Taken.

Alone.

I whisper into the air, unsure who I’m talking to. “Clutch… please. If you’re anywhere—anywhere at all—don’t let her die. Don’t let the baby die.”

I squeeze my eyes shut.

I can’t lose her again.

I can survive cancer. I can’t do life without Dia Crews.

SIXTEEN

DIA

"In the wilderness of life, let your bear spirit guide you." — Unknown

The room is dim,the air stale.

The mattress beneath me is stiff and smells like dust and bleach. There’s no window. Just a vent in the ceiling that hums like a fly stuck behind glass. My limbs are heavy, my head cloudy. Everything feels slow, like I’m moving through syrup.

The injection.

They stuck me with something. Not enough to knock me out for long, but enough to steal time. Hours maybe. Maybe more.

My first thought is the baby.

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