Chapter 8
SAVAGE
The waiting game is not something I like to deal with. I prefer action. I always have. But not knowing where Honor is, is driving me insane. It’s been hours, and still, we’ve got jack shit.
Dagger and the others got back with Delaney, and from the looks of her, she’ll be okay.
“Glacier’s here,” Gunner states, walking into the clubhouse.
I nod without saying anything. I haven’t been able to speak much. My mind is whirling with thoughts of the what-ifs that are fucking with my head.
Glacier walks in, and Gunner shows him toward Hammer, who introduces himself.
“Name’s Hammer, President of the Devil’s Riot MC, Southeast Charter.”
“Have a seat. My guys found Delaney not far from here. It seems she and a few deer had a battle of sorts, and she lost,” Hammer says, motioning for Glacier to join all of us.
Glacier looks in Delaney’s direction and seems to be taking her in before asking, “You okay?”
“I will be as soon as we find Honor,” she says, worrying her bottom lip.
Hammer motions for everyone to gather around the tables we’ve all pushed together, including Delaney and Glacier.
If this didn’t include the two of them, we’d be having this conversation in church.
But today, it’s happening here in the main room while everyone else is ordered to stay away for the time being.
The ol’ ladies are on lockdown here, but they’re all in their rooms or in one or the others, giving us space.
“So, here’s what’s happening,” Hammer says, glancing around the table and giving a rundown of where we’re at right now. The bigger issue is, apparently, she has diabetes, and her levels are going up or some shit.”
Glacier and Gunner share a few words that I barely hear through the roaring in my ears. I don’t know what’s causing it, but it’s not the first time. It’s happened before, and when it happens, I struggle to focus.
“Those of you who are members, we know we’re at a standstill with the De La Rosa Cartel, and as for Avery’s siblings, those fuckwads are a pain in the ass.
This being said, although one is more of a nuisance while the other is an all-out war, we’ve got to figure out if either of them has anything to do with this shit.
We’ve already ruled out the senator’s grandson,” Hammer remarks, looking around the table.
“If I had to take a wild guess, though, between the two, this shit stinks more of those bastards that share blood with my woman. If the De La Rosas thought they’d go after a woman, they’d want us to know it was them. ”
“They don’t always, Prez,” Ruger speaks up, voice harsh and hands balled into fists. “Could be either one of them.”
“We need to get out there and check out their last known whereabouts,” Glock calls out.
The two of them are blood brothers and are suspicious of anyone and everyone.
They don’t allow anyone close to them. If you’re not one of their club brothers or an ol’ lady, they will be standoffish until they know you aren’t about to screw them over.
I know it’s from their past, and I completely get where they’re coming from with their suspicion.
For the next thirty minutes, we go over what we’re doing while Cy works away at his computer.
Delaney’s stayed quiet throughout this, just watching us all and furrowing her brow. That is until now. Raising her hand, she gets our attention, and with a freaked-out voice, she says, “Something has to get done and soon. Her pump is dying.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Gunner demands, narrowing his eyes at her.
I watch her closely and wait for her to answer, a sense of dread threatening to take hold of my gut. If Honor’s pump dies, does that mean she does?
“It means that soon, it won’t be working, so her body won’t be getting the insulin it needs. If she’s not found in the next few hours, she could wind up in a diabetic coma and possibly die,” Delaney retorts, loud and clear.
“Cy, get some drones up and going to check out Avery’s siblings’ hideouts,” Hammer orders, getting to his feet.
“On it, Prez,” Cy replies, fingers flying across the keyboard faster than I’ve ever seen him go before. When he looks up from the screen, he glances at Hammer and nods. “Done.”
“What about the Cartel?” Glock questions, not wanting to rule them out. “We can’t discount them.”
“We’ll look into them. Let’s rule out the siblings first,” Hammer replies. “I can feel it in my gut they’re behind this shit.”
“Don’t they have that shack not too far from here?” Axe asks. “They’re not that intelligent, so if it is them, they wouldn’t think to run far away from us.”
“You’re right. They’re not that intelligent, and they’ll do whatever they can to get back at Avery and the club. It would be just like them to have her right under our noses.” Hammer shrugs, making a point, and he’s right. Those weaselly bastards would.
“I’m going to check it out,” Gunner emphatically advises.
I stand and open my mouth to say the same, hands planted on the table when Hammer gives the order.
“Savage, Dagger, Axe, y’all three come with us. Dagger, make sure you’ve got your bag.”
“Take her kit with you,” Delaney states, thrusting it in Gunner’s direction. “There’s a bottle of insulin and some syringes, along with her testing kit, so you can give her some. She’s gonna need it.”
I take the kit before Gunner can and start for my bike. I know exactly where this shack is, and they’ll be lucky if I find them there and she’s not. I might let them live. But if Honor’s there, well, that’s a different story altogether. They’ll regret going after her.
I pull in front of the shack, my gut tight, and the hairs on the back of my neck raise. She’s here. I just know it.
Something inside me is screaming it loud and clear.
Quickly, I park my truck, leaving it running. I left my bike at the clubhouse, just in case. Grabbing her kit, I stalk toward the shack, Gunner joining me along with the others.
I don’t bother with the handle and kick the door in.
It splinters and comes off its hinges. I step inside, the smell of urine strong.
Curled in a small ball on a mattress in the middle of the floor lies Honor, beaten and bloody.
I move to her, not giving a damn about the smell, and roll her to her back.
“Grab me a blanket,” I call out, keeping the others from seeing her until I have her covered, including her brother.
Dagger comes forward with one and drops down to her other side. “Fuck me. She’s going to need more help than I can give her.”
“What about her insulin shit?” Gunner asks.
“I’ll administer what she needs for now, but we’ve got to get her to the hospital,” Dagger answers, taking the kit from my hand.
The moment he’s done, I scoop her in my arms and carry her to my truck, Gunner right on my heels. I climb in the passenger seat while he gets in behind the wheel.
I drop my gaze to her and stare into her battered face, a thought of anguish crossing my thoughts. How do I fix what I fucked up with her when the damage I’ve caused is nothing compared to this. How do I repair something so damaged?