Chapter 43 #2
“Hey,” I croak, my arms coming up awkwardly around him.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his face crumpling as his hands cup my cheeks.
Relief. Fear. Rage.
All of it flickers across his face—until his gaze drops to my torn hoodie. Barely covering me. His expression darkens instantly.
Without a word, he shrugs his cut off and drapes it over my shoulders, the worn leather settling warm against my exposed skin.
His hands linger for half a second, like he’s grounding himself.
Then, his eyes flick past me toward the hallway where Leila disappeared.
I see it.
The pull. The war inside him.
“Go,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
His gaze snaps back to mine, startled.
“Go, Dane. You should go after her.”
He shakes his head immediately. “No, I’ll just—”
“Dane—”
“Wait,” he cuts in, voice dropping, frayed. “I’ll get… I’ll get Hound here.”
His fingers brush his earpiece, movements quick, almost frantic. “Hound,” he says under his breath. “I need you and Bulldog at the ER entrance. Now.”
A few seconds later, boots echo across the tiled floor. Not just Hound and Bulldog, Healer’s here too, along with a handful of prospects and men I assume belong to Mihai.
I look back at Wolf. He’s still standing there. Still… torn.
I nod toward the hallway again. “Go.”
His entire frame locks with hesitation. I can see it so clearly—the fracture inside him.
Brother.
Leader.
Lover.
All pulling him in different directions.
“I’ll be back,” he says quickly. “I just—”
“It’s Leila. I know.” A small, shaky smile pulls at my lips. “Go.”
Something in his face cracks at that. He nods, though his expression is still twisted with panic and something deeper—something raw.
He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, his hand squeezing the back of my neck.
Then he’s sprinting toward the empty hallway. Toward Leila.
“Fuck.”
I jump as Hound snaps, panic flashing across his face.
“Bull, take Charlotte to the van and stay with her,” he orders quickly, then turns to the prospects. “Lock this entrance down. None of their men get out of here with a pulse. Understood?”
They nod firmly—faces determined.
“What happened?” Bulldog asks, voice steady as he steps closer to me, his presence instantly protective.
“I—fuck—it’s Spike. Ruin’s on his comms but I lost the connection,” Hound says, jabbing at his phone, fingers moving too fast, too hard. “Fuck!”
Theo.
Spike.
Oh God. Are they okay?
The question lodges in my throat, heavy and suffocating, as my body starts to tremble all over again.
“Finally.” Hound exhales, pressing the device closer. “On my way, Ruin.”
He goes still, listening. Then his gaze flicks to me—sharp, intent. “She’s safe.”
Hound turns toward Healer, who’s already coordinating with Mihai’s men. “Healer, with me. Now!” he barks, already moving—before his voice softens, just slightly. “I’m coming, brother. Stay put.”
Healer doesn’t hesitate. He grabs his kit in one hand, gun in the other, and follows right behind him.
I clutch Wolf’s cut draped over me and follow Bulldog out. I should be relieved, perhaps even feel some sense of comfort from being surrounded by the club—having escaped that hell.
Bulldog asks me questions about my injuries. I respond numbly—my mind reeling with whatever is happening in this darkened building in front of me.
Minutes pass by, and I stay frozen. Perched on the edge of Healer’s medic van. Sitting in the open loading area.
Dread hums low and constant in my chest, a quiet, relentless vibration I can’t shake.
It isn’t until I see Theo’s unconscious body being wheeled out—slumped in a barely functioning wheelchair—that the dread finally detonates.
Something sharp clamps around my chest at the sight of him so still. Even though I can see his chest rising and falling as they rush him toward the medic van, panic claws its way up my throat.
“Oh God,” I whimper, my legs giving out beneath me as I drop to the ground.
“He’s okay. He just passed out,” Healer says quickly, the reassurance spilling out in a rush.
“Spike?” Bulldog asks from somewhere behind me, his voice tight with concern.
But I can’t look away from Theo.
I crawl forward, dropping fully to my knees as I press my fingers to his pulse. The steady thrum beneath my thumb makes my lungs finally expand.
He’s alive.
Healer exhales roughly. “One of Mihai’s men said Tudor took him. I don’t know where. We’ve got Scar locked up at the south entrance—Ryder’s handling him. Hound went back in. Where’s Wolf?”
“Christ,” Bulldog mutters hoarsely. “Hold on.”
In my periphery, I see him pulling out his phone. Healer nods once and rushes off to help the others.
And that’s when I notice—a prospect guiding a group of women and men out through the doors. At least a dozen of them. Some stumbling, some barely conscious.
Healer is already there, moving between them.
They’re rescuing them.
Thank God.
“Wolf, come in,” Bulldog says, followed by a beat of silence. “Wolf, it’s Bull. You there?”
My chest tightens painfully.
“Bull.”
My eyes fall shut at the sound of my brother’s voice. It’s strained—frayed—but relief still seeps through me at the sound of it.
“Bull, I’m here,” his voice crackles. “Is Charlotte okay?”
“She’s okay, Prez. I’m with her.”
“Good.” He exhales, the word breaking slightly. “Listen, I need two men stationed near the northern hall on the first floor. There’s—fuck—there’s women and children here. I need extraction.”
“On it, Wolf.”
Within seconds, Bulldog is barking orders, sending three prospects running—forming a chain from the northern hall, what I now realize must be the general ward, to the west exit where we are.
Time stretches.
Minutes pass.
All I can do is stay on my knees beside Theo, my hand still pressed to his pulse—like if I let go, he might disappear.
I watch the stream of people being brought out—women, children, some half-conscious, some screaming, some so quiet it’s worse.
The air outside feels too sharp. Too clean compared to what we just came from.
A group stumbles past me, guided by two prospects. One of the women lifts her head—and my breath stutters.
Sarah.
Her eyes find mine for a fraction of a second. Recognition flickers and dies just as quickly. Whatever she went through in there hollowed her out. She doesn’t even stop. Just keeps walking like she’s been programmed to move forward and nothing else.
God.
“Owen!” someone calls out.
I turn to see him already working—fast, precise. Another man joins him—Dr. Almonte. They move like a machine, checking pulses, shouting instructions, triaging people on the ground, in the vans, everywhere.
Wolf’s voice crackles through Bulldog’s phone again. “Bull, I’m sending the last remaining people out. Call for medic backup. They’re…” He pauses. I hear the strain, the fury barely leashed. “They need help.”
My chest tightens.
Bull answers immediately, already barking orders into his own comms.
More people spill out. More broken bodies. More haunted eyes.
At first I’m too occupied to notice, a crack that sounds distant. Muffled. Almost unreal.
I barely register it.
Then a louder sound. Sharp.
Wrong.
My head snaps toward the building. Before I can even process it—the ground trembles beneath my feet.
A deafening explosion rips through the air, tearing the left side of the building apart. Fire bursts outward, swallowing concrete and steel in a violent roar. A plume of black smoke mushrooms into the sky.
I stagger back, the force of it slamming into my chest.
Left side.
Left—
We’re at the west exit.
So that means—
North?
Or… south?
What’s left of west?
My brain stutters. Fumbles. I can’t think.
My ears ring. Everything around me dulls into a distant, muffled haze.
People are shouting. Running. I tighten my grip on Theo—I think—but I can’t feel it.
I’m staring at the fire. At the part of the building that just vanished.
Somewhere in that blur, Bull’s voice cuts through. Loud. Panicked.
“Fuck! Wolf, come in.”
Nothing but static.
“Wolf,” he says again with a frantic scream. “Come in!”
A click and the line goes dead.
Something inside me just stops.
My lungs forget how to work.
My heart keeps beating, but it feels hollow. Like it’s echoing inside an empty space.
My eyes stay locked on the burning wreckage, unblinking. Unmoving.
If I don’t move, if I don’t think… Then maybe it didn’t happen.
Maybe he’s still—
My lips part, but no sound comes out.
No scream. No sob.
Nothing.
Nothing but a roaring fire, eating away at the northern part of the building.
Right where Wolf was.