Chapter Twenty-Three ABBIE #2
I sidestep Ark and slap her hard across the face, whipping her head to the side.
She can’t evade me with her busted knee, but she grabs the metal leg of the counter and tries to drag herself out of my reach.
Too bad for her, I’m not in the deflect and create distance mood anymore.
“What did you do to him?” I demand, grabbing her shoulder in a vise, and grinding my fingers into the bone.
“Answer me, or I’ll break every bone in your ugly fucking body! ”
She raises an arm, clearly reading the murder in my eyes. “I just wanted him to go away!”
Her wailing pout is like nails digging into my soul, but I shove her back hard, already running to the cooler.
I can’t explain how I know that Wings is in there, but my heart throbs with terror as I see the padlock on the door.
“It’s fucking locked!” I scream, beating a fist on the insulated metal. “Ark, get the key off the bitch!”
He ignores me, grabbing a meat hammer off the bench and dashing to my side.
One powerful swing and he shatters the lock, sending the broken pieces flying.
I grab the door and wrench it open, bile crawling up my throat as I suck in a lungful of frigid air.
It’s so cold, but it’s nothing on the ice running through my veins as I peer inside. Please, please let him be alright…
“Abbie?” My heart almost stops as Wings stumbles towards me, relief stark on his pale face. “F-fuck! I knew you’d f-find me.”
His teeth are chattering, and his lips are blue, but it’s the blood on his scalp that makes me see red. “She did this? She locked you in?”
He wraps a cold arm around my waist, but his eyes are like fire-hardened steel. “She ambushed me with a fucking frypan. Pushed me in there and did something to screw with the door.”
I whirl around, watching as Mimi crawls towards Ark on her busted knee, tears streaking down her face. “Don’t kick me out!” she pleads as she clings to the legs of his jeans. “Please don’t take my colors, Ark. This is all Jackpot’s fault.”
I stare at her in disbelief. Take her colors? Does she seriously think that’s a fitting punishment for what she’s done? “You tried to kill him!” I seethe. “He would've frozen to death if we hadn’t found him. I’m going to take more than your fucking cut, you lunatic!”
“I can see what’s happened here,” Ark says in a solemn voice that makes me blink. “You were jealous, and you lashed out. But you broke the one club rule that I said I would defend with everything in me.” He pulls his phone from his pockets and hits a few buttons. “You need to leave, Mimi.”
“Leave?” I hiss, clutching Wings’ cold body to mine. “Only if she’s zipped in a fucking body bag!”
Ark doesn’t look at me as he studies Mimi’s tear-swollen face.
“You can’t be trusted here, Mimi. You were warned, and you still chose to hurt another club member.
” I can only see his profile, but it looks like it’s carved out of ice.
How can he look so deadly, but sound so calm?
“We have a chapter in Mexico,” he tells her in that same tightly controlled voice. “I think they'd be more your scene.”
“Mexico?” Her eyes dart around, a wary smile tugging at the edge of her mouth. “You mean Guadalajara, where Blunt and Drone went?”
My lips curl into a sneer at the mention of Booker’s old goons, until I remember exactly where they ended up. In an incinerator, a long way from the border.
I slide a glance Ark’s way. Ice to fire. Poetic fucking justice.
Wings is still shivering in my arms, but I don’t step away from Mimi until Threads walks in, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“She’s done here,” Ark says shortly, nodding at Mimi. “Make sure she gets to the Mexican chapter, soon as possible.”
Threads nods, his face a blank mask, but Mimi shoots me a venomous glare. “Anything to get away from this psycho bitch.”
I just raise my brows at her as Threads carries her out of the room, but then my gaze swings to Ark as he pulls Wings into a full-bodied hug. “Are you alright? Fuck, I’m sorry that happened.” He pulls back to look Wings over and catches my eye. “Still have a few trust issues, butterfly?”
“Well, you’ve got a damn scary poker face.” I nudge him aside and wrap my arms back around Wings. “She’s really gone, right? That was code for a place a lot hotter than Mexico.”
“The hottest,” he mutters, palming the back of Wings’ neck. “I need to check on Jackpot, but can you get up to your suite? I’ve called Patch, and Pitt should be coming down…”
He grunts as both Pitt and Bluff hurl themselves into the kitchen, pistols drawn and eyes blazing. I watch them take in the scene, their scents sharpening at the blood on the floor and the sight of Wings’ pale, battered face.
“What the fuck happened?” Pitt demands, striding towards us.
“Attempted frostbite,” Wings mutters, trying for a lopsided smile. “Mimi jumped me and locked me in the damn cooler.”
“I need to make sure she’s out of the building,” Ark says shortly, nodding at the other two alphas on his way to the door. “Get them upstairs so Patch can treat him, and don’t leave them alone for a second.”
The alphas nod, and Bluff’s gaze sweeps over Wings. “If it’s hypothermia, we need blankets, hot packs, and warm milk. No baths or showers. Focus on the core, not the extremities.”
I look at him in surprise, but Pitt shoves his gun at Bluff and sweeps Wings into his arms. It’s impressive watching one six-foot guy pick up another, but a hint of color stains Wings’ cheeks. “Hey! I can walk, you know.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Pitt grinds out, already heading towards the door, “but if I watch you stand there and shiver a minute longer, I’m gonna fucking lose it.”
Wings blinks at him, but I smile as he subsides into Pitt’s arms. “Good alpha,” I tell Pitt, patting his back and then ducking ahead to make sure the stairs are clear and that the suite door is open.
When I reach the side of our bed, Bluff is one step behind me.
I stare down at the rumpled sheets, then turn towards him, my eyes shimmering with tears. “Fuck. I woke up and he wasn’t here.”
“You did good, Abbie,” Bluff tells me in a soothing rumble. “You made her bleed, and you got Wings to safety. That’s all that matters.”
“You weren’t there,” I sniffle, trying to keep my rage and fear from bubbling over. “I was so focused on her, I didn’t think of Wings until Ark brought him up.”
Bluff tilts his head, his scar pulling tight as he gives me a soft smile. “I’m good at reading chaos. You controlled the scene and punished the bitch. The rest is up to Ark.”
It still doesn’t sit right, but I nod shortly, stepping away as Pitt carries Wings into the room.
I steer them over to the bed, grabbing extra blankets from the storage in the base.
“I’m going to text Glory for hot milk and heat packs,” I mutter as Pitt places Wings carefully on the bed. “If she’s asleep, I’ll go.”
“I’ll go,” Bluff says, touching my shoulder on the way to the door. “You snuggle with Wings until he gets his body temp up.”
“That shouldn’t take long,” Wings quips, looking me over in my shortie PJs.
His gray eyes are starting to get back some of their sparkle, but I’m still too upset to smile as I crawl onto the bed.
He opens his arms and I slide into them, swallowing a hiss at how cold he feels.
Pitt instantly piles the blankets on top of us, then climbs in to spoon Wings from the other side.
“Don’t cry, butterfly,” Wings says before I even realize tears are sliding down my cheeks. “I’m fine now. And luckily, I wasn't in there long enough to freeze my balls off.”
Pitt snorts, but I’m so far beyond being reassured. “You could have been, though. If I’d waited longer, or if I hadn’t woken up at all…” My heart clenches, so raw with fear, I can barely draw another breath. “I won't survive losing you, Wings.”
His lashes flutter on his pale cheeks. “You’re not gonna lose me.”
I bite my lips, other, darker words on the tip of my tongue. If he’d died, I don’t know how I would’ve gone on, except that every Viper in the clubhouse would have been ash before morning.
“Patch!” I cry, sitting up as he comes into the room in sweats and an old tee. “Wings is bleeding. Head injury from a frying pan. And his hands and feet are so cold.”
“Then let’s fix him up.” Patch places his med kit on the edge of the bed and waves me over.
“Come on. I need an extra pair of hands.” I scoot out from under the mound of blankets and he nods at the dresser.
“Grab him some warm clothes while I check his temperature. Heating the core is the focus right now.”
I quickly grab a long-sleeved tee, hoodie, and sweats, while Wings sits up with an awkward laugh. “I wasn't in there long enough for all this fuss.”
“You have a head injury,” I snap, hurrying back to him with the clothes. “You could be confused! Maybe you were in there longer than you realize!”
“Abbie, focus.” Patch has taken Wings’ temperature and is now checking the cut on his head. It can’t be too deep, because he’s applying a bandaid instead of stitches. “Socks and blankets, then we cover him in the heat packs.”
“Sorry. Okay,” I mutter, helping Wings pull his cold clothes off and replacing them with the fresh ones. “What else? Should I go check on the milk?”
A warm hand wraps around my shoulder and Ark draws me back against his chest. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can relax now. He’s safe.”
I swallow around a throat full of glass shards. “I need to help,” I croak, leaning back against him. “What if…?”