“I’m fine. Go get her.”
I’m already in the hallway. Joker is in the common area, boots up on the table. Viper is at the bar, cleaning a glass. Both of them look up when I come through the door.
“Crimson Warrior took Violet. East on the highway. We ride now.”
Joker’s boots hit the floor. Viper sets the glass down. Neither of them says a word. We’re through the front door and on our bikes in under thirty seconds.
I pull up the tracker on my phone and mount it on my handlebars. Violet’s location is a blue dot moving east, and it’s slowing down.
The desert stretches flat in every direction. Late afternoon sun, no traffic. My throttle is pinned. Joker is on my left. Viper is on my right.
I’m focused on the blue dot. If he touches her, I will tear him apart with my bare hands.
The dot stops. A pull-off on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. He picked this spot because there’s nothing out here. No witnesses. No cameras. No one to hear anything.
That works both ways.
I cut my engine at the top of the dirt road and coast the last of the distance on momentum and gravity. Joker and Viper do the same.
The gray truck is parked at the end of the road. The driver’s door is open, and the engine is running.
He’s standing outside the truck on the driver’s side, phone in his hand, pacing. He’s in his mid-twenties with dark hair, wearing a Crimson Warriors cut.
He’s holding a gun.
Violet is in the passenger seat. I can see her through the windshield. Blood drips from her mouth. But her head is up, her eyes are open, and she’s alive.
The relief almost buckles my knees. I don’t let it.
Viper goes left. Joker goes right. I walk straight up the middle of the dirt road.
The Warrior sees me. His phone drops. He raises the gun.
“Stop.” He points the gun at me. “I swear to God, I’ll?—”
Viper materializes behind him. One hand clamps on the Warrior’s wrist. The gun hits the dirt. Joker pins his other arm. The whole thing takes four seconds.
I walk past them to the passenger door. Pull it open.
Violet looks up at me. Split lip. A bruise blooms along her jaw, and zip ties cut into her wrists.
The man who fucking dared to lay a hand on my Old Lady is ten feet behind me, pinned between my brothers.
“He grabbed me in the parking lot.” Her voice is steady. Steadier than it should be. “Trapper tried to stop him. But he had a gun, and he threw me in the truck. He said he wants Jinx. A trade. Jinx killed his brother.”
I pull my pocketknife and cut the zip ties. Her wrists are raw. I hold them in my hands, thumbs tracing the welts. I lift her left wrist to my mouth and press my lips to the red line where the plastic cut in. Then the right. She inhales sharply, and her fingers curl around mine.
I kiss her on the forehead. “Stay in the truck. Close the door. Don’t look.”
She grabs my arm. “Duke.”
“Close the door, Violet.”
She lets go. The door shuts.
I turn around.
The Warrior is on his knees. Joker has his arms pinned behind his back. Viper is standing to the side, hands loose, waiting.