Pain radiates through my skull, and my teeth clang together.
My knees give out from the pain, hitting the floor hard. I grunt, my hands on the floor the only thing stopping me from face planting, as my body shakes.
Nausea rolls through me as I watch her retreating feet leave the room. Fuck. Blood drips onto the floor, my hand going to my wound to add pressure.
“Savage,” I call but my voice is weak.
Darkness starts to pull me under— I know that I need to get my brother’s attention. With what energy I have left, I push a chair over. The loud crash of the wood hitting the floor vibrates through my head, making me grunt in pain.
Heavy rushed footsteps come my way and I sigh, my body giving out.
“Crash.”
“Fuck. Get Bolt.”
“It was Val. Stop her.”
“On it,” I hear someone say, but the darkness takes over.
I wake up slowly, the room dim. Thank fuck, because my head feels like it is being split in two.
Turning my head, I see Savage and Target sitting on chairs next to the bed. I am in the medical room here at the clubhouse, so my injury, thanks to fucking Val, was not that bad.
“Hey, you’re awake,” Savage says, his voice softer than normal.
“Good to have you back, brother,” Target adds.
“Fuck. How long have I been out?”
“About three hours. Bolt checked you over, then he stitched you up. You needed six stitches, and you have a concussion,” VP explains.
“Shit. Did you catch her?”
Savage growls, and I touch his hand to calm him. I may not swing his way, but he means a lot to me.
“No. She slipped through the gates while the prospect went for a drink. Had a car waiting for her.”
I nod to Target and instantly regret it. A new wave of nausea rolls through me.
“Pres is on his way.”
“Oh, fuck,” I groan.
“This is not on you, brother. She pulled this shit.”
“Yeah, but I brought her into the club. Fuck,” I reply to Savage, scrubbing my hand over my face to help clear some of the fog.
“How are you doing, Crash?” Racer’s deep voice fills the room like the authoritative figure he is.
“Like I got hit with a steel statue,” I answer.
He scoffs, but I see a smile on his face.
“She got away, but I have two of the prospects out looking for her.” I inhale, one to get air into my lungs, but also to control this dizziness.
“It was all a fucking set up,” I start.
“Of course it was,” Savage growls.
