Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
He looked like he hadn’t showered in days. His beard was unkempt, and his oily hair was hidden beneath a black skull cap. Dirt stained his clothes and his skin along with… blood splatters? What the fuck? Had the Russians gotten their hands on him, too?
Please not him. Not him, too. They couldn’t hurt both people who meant the world to me.
“Trigger…” I mumbled. “What…” Trying to get my lips to work so I could form words was proving to be a fucking task and a half.
“Easy,” Trigger rasped. He cupped my cheek and pressed our foreheads together, his eyes full of pain and rage. So much fucking rage. And that rage settled me because I knew it was on my behalf.
He’d come for me.
“I’m getting you out of here, baby.” He pressed his lips to mine in a hard kiss, and a tear rolled down my cheek. Turning his head, he kissed it away from my vomit and blood-stained skin, then lifted me from the table to cradle me against his chest.
I moaned in pain, my head lolling against his chest. He clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I know it hurts. Just let me get you out of here, okay?”
I let my eyes slide closed, the pain dragging me back under again. “You came,” I mumbled.
Trigger’s lips pressed to my forehead, and more tears tracked down my cheeks. Another sob bubbled in my aching chest. “I came, baby. I’ll always fucking come for you, Chase.”
A stupid smile tilted my lips as darkness wrapped me in its comforting, painless arms.
10
Trigger
Chase was almost unrecognizable. Covered in his own blood, bruises, and cuts, there wasn’t a part of him unmarred by the sons of bitches who had taken him from me. He’d only managed to stay awake long enough to say a couple of sentences, but even those had been heavily slurred. He was too pale and clearly had lost too much blood.
He needed a fucking hospital. And while the club didn’t usually fuck around with hospitals—especially hospitals we had no control over—due to all the questions and risk of someone running their mouths to the wrong person, I couldn’t be picky. Not with Chase’s life hanging in the balance. If I didn’t get him serious medical help, he wasn’t going to survive. Chase’s injuries couldn’t wait.
And his survival was non-fucking-negotiable.
I yanked open the door of one of the vans parked outside and eased Chase into the passenger seat before reclining it back so I didn’t have to worry about him falling forward. Quickly shrugging off my cut, I pulled my shirt over my head before pulling it over Chase’s head. It barely covered his cock and ass, but it would do. It was better than nothing, at least. After tugging my cut back on, I rounded the front of the van and slid into the driver’s seat.
Yanking my burner from my pocket, I dialed Scorpion’s number, then quickly began working on hot-wiring this fucking piece of shit vehicle.
“Trigger?” Scorpion asked.
“Yeah,” I grunted, muttering a curse beneath my breath. I hated having to hot-wire vehicles. It was such a pain in the ass and definitely not one of my strengths. “I’ve got Chase. He’s in bad shape.” The van rumbled to life. Thank fuck. I quickly shifted it into drive and peeled out of the parking lot, heading for the hospital I’d seen a few miles away a couple of days ago. “I’m taking him to the nearest hospital.”
“Are you sure—”
“Scorpion,” I growled, my patience non-fucking existent, “I don’t give a fuck about club policy. If I don’t get him to a goddamn hospital, he’s not going to make it, and that’s not an option, you got me? I’ll deal with this. I need to call Johnston. Just wanted to let you know he’s alive.”
Without waiting for his response, I ended the call, then dialed Johnston. He grunted but didn’t say a word when he answered. Probably waiting to make sure I hadn’t been compromised. I was sure he hadn’t been happy I’d gone offline without his consent, but he also knew if anyone could find Chase, it would be me.
And I had. I wouldn’t ever fail this club, but I’d also never fail the man I was in love with.
“Johnston, I need you to pull some strings,” I said. “I’ve got Chase, but he’s in bad fucking shape. He needs a hospital.”
“Goddammit,” Johnston growled. He knew if I was demanding a hospital, it was bad. Really fucking bad. “Give me the name of the hospital. I’ll get in touch with the hospital administrator. You do not go into that hospital until they call you, understand? We don’t need the additional heat on top of this Russian bullshit we’ve got going on. Clear?”
“Clear, Prez. I’m taking him to the nearest one—Texas Regional.”