Taking a steadying breath, I turn back to Rav.

“I don’t want to go in guns blazing, but I’m getting Lucy back. Come, don’t come—it’s up to you.”

I watch the irritation sweep over Rav’s face, watch as my best friend tries to keep a lid on his anger.

He manages to grind out, “We need to be smart about this,” although I can see it’s taking everything he has not to lose his shit.

Join the club. My patience is hanging on by a fucking thread. If it wasn’t for the fact I’m bleeding everywhere, I’d already be halfway to Blackwood’s compound.

“How?”

Rav scrubs a hand over his beard, his rings glinting under the fluorescent lighting. “This shit is bigger than her just being married to that fuckhead. He fucking shot you. If we weren’t at war before, we sure as shit are now.”

He’s right. This isn’t just about Lucy anymore. It’s bigger than that. Isaac Blackwood came to our house and put a bullet in an Untamed Sons patch, and not just any patched member, but the VP. We have to retaliate or risk looking weak.

“If we’re going to do this, we’re doing it right,” he continues. “I don’t want this cunt coming back in a couple of months and razing the clubhouse. I don’t want us watching our backs either.”

I know what he’s suggesting and it’s a dangerous—not to mention difficult—plan.

“I’m going to start now,” Whizz says, cutting through the pregnant silence building between me and Rav.

I wave a hand, telling him to get on with it. The sooner I’m patched up, the sooner I can go after Lucy.

“You want to get rid of our Blackwood problem permanently?” I can’t keep the surprise out of my voice. That’s more than a motion to war. It’s annihilation. What he’s talking about doing won’t be easy and it could drag us into a drawn-out battle that could span years—longer. It could put us in more danger, but Blackwood is never going to let Lucy go and if he thinks I touched her, he’s going to keep coming back at me to seek revenge.

“He’s a threat.”

“To me,” I counter. “Not the club.”

“You are the fucking club.”

I rub at my chest, which suddenly feels tighter. My lungs burn fiercely as I draw in air through my teeth.

“We go after Blackwood, he’s going to rain hell down on us.”

Rav’s face contorts. “And we’ll rain it back twice as hard.”

I wipe at the layer of sweat covering my brow before I say, “So, we need a plan.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying. If you weren’t acting like such a pussy over a little bullet you would have heard it.” Rav smirks, making my own lips twitch.

“You’re lucky it’s just a fucking graze,” Whizz mutters as he tosses a balled up blood-soaked cloth into a metal bowl on a small wheeled table.

Whizz grabs my uninjured arm, his grip hard, unyielding. His eyes are as serious as I’ve ever seen them.

“Whatever happens,” he says, “we’ve got your back, brother. You ain’t facing this shit alone.”

My words stick in my throat, and I can hardly swallow past the lump forming there. This is what club is. Solidarity, loyalty, even in the face of disaster.

I swallow hard and mutter out, “You done?”

Whizz stares at me a beat before pulling his gaze. “Need to stitch you up first. You might feel some tugging, but tell me if you feel any pain.”

“How long’s that going to take?”

“As long as it takes. Quit bitching.”

I scowl as frustration fizzles through my veins. Itchy need makes me anxious to leave, but I sit like a good patient and let Whizz do what he needs to, even though my heart is fluttering in my chest, getting stronger as the minutes tick by.

“Had my doubts about her,” Rav says and my anger flares at his words.

“The fuck?”

He holds up a hand. “Had my doubts. Don’t have them anymore. That woman stood between you and Blackwood. Lied to fucking save you.”

She’d lied and said there was nothing between us. It had hurt like an axe to the chest at the time, hearing her denying us, but I knew why she did it. I know why she made out she was just here for a job. I’d thrown a gun at her and told her to put a bullet in me before her husband did. Lucy had done what she could to protect me. If her eyes didn’t tell me, her actions did. Lucy fucking loves me, and I love her. I won’t leave her to whatever fate that sick cunt has planned for her. Even if I hated her, I could never leave her to him. Fuck it would be easier if I did, but she fucking claimed me in a way I never thought was possible.

As soon as the last stitch is in place, I slide off the bed, my legs buckling for a moment before I’m able to steady myself. I’m like a day-old fawn, trying to walk on spindled-legs. Whizz reaches out, but I brush him off. I don’t need coddling.

“As your doctor, I’d suggest you rest that arm, but I know there ain’t a chance in hell you’re going to listen.”

I snort at his correct assumption. I turn to Rav and he surprises the shit out of me when he says, “Let’s go and get your girl back. What the fuck she sees in your ugly mug, I don’t know.”

Fuck, it’s good to be on the same side again.

27

Lucy

Leon takes me upstairs to my old room, the one I used to share with Isaac. He gives me a savage smirk that makes the scar on his face look more sinister before he locks me inside. I don’t fight. What would be the point? There’s nowhere to go and I’m already hurt from Isaac’s temper lashing out earlier. Every inch of my body aches and every time I suck in air, it feels like shards of glass are ripping through my chest.

I take in the emptiness of the room with a sombre glance. I feel as if the walls are closing in. A chill races up my arms and settles at the base of my spine as the silence shrouds me.

Our former bedroom is the last place I want to be. I left my nightmares behind, or I thought I did. Right now, I’m in a waking night terror. My stomach churns viciously as I move to the door and try the handle, even though I know it won’t open. Unsurprisingly, the door doesn’t budge. Desperation stalks on my heels as I stand there, staring at it helplessly, realising once again I’m trapped under Isaac’s force.

I move to the window and shove the curtains aside. It’s not an ideal plan, but if I have to shimmy down the drainpipe, I will.

Metal bars greet me, beyond that there’s a tantalising view of the sculpted front gardens, the driveway, the gate beyond—and freedom.

I swallow hard, my fingers trembling on the silky material of the curtains.

He put bars on the fucking windows of our old bedroom.

He’s insane.

I stagger back, my heart hammering in my chest. Why has he brought me here, to our old room? He’s clearly angry with me, so why doesn’t my accommodation reflect that?

I can smell Isaac in this room. His aftershave and the scent that is just him lingers in the air, a reminder of where I am and who has me. It makes my stomach roll and bile climb up my throat. I want to vomit when I think about the fact that I’m trapped again. After so many years breathing free air, the monster has finally caught the little bird and put it back in its gilded cage.