I shoved off him and staggered to my feet. Reaper didn’t miss a beat, stepping in and rolling Luca to his front. He placed a knee between his shoulder blades as he shouted at Fuse to bring him some zip ties.
I stumbled toward Merci, who had started to uncurl her body. She released a wet cough and wiped her hand across her face, smearing blood that poured from her nose.
“Merci,” I choked out.
Her eyes, glassy with pain, lifted to mine. “About fucking time,” she rasped.
The knot in my chest loosened. She was alive. I dropped to my knees in front of her and helped her rise. She winced as my hands grazed her ribs. Her lashes fluttered, tears streaking down her cheeks.
“Are you OK?” I asked, scanning her from head to toe. She was bleeding, bruised, and cut up.
Merci rolled her eyes. “Just fucking peachy.”
“Where does it hurt?” I asked. She looked too fucking fragile.
She let out a humorless laugh that quickly shifted into a cough. “Every-fucking-where,” she said, gripping her side and cringing in pain.
I met Merrick’s gaze over her shoulder. “I’m taking her to the hospital. I’ll meet you at the junkyard after.”
Merci shook her head as a stubbornness lit in her eyes. “Like hell you are. I’m going with you.”
Reaper and Merrick exchanged glances.
Merci huffed. “I’m not an idiot. I know what happens at the junkyard. And I want in. I want to make him pay.”
I pressed a kiss to her temple, tasting blood and sweat. My hellcat wanted to sink her claws into Luca, and who was I to deny her? “Then it’s a date.”
She tilted her head back to look at me. “This might be the most romantic thing we’ve ever done together,” she said with a crooked, bloody smile.
Merrick grumbled under his breath and heaved Luca to his feet. He and Fuse carried him to his car and tossed him in the trunk. The pilot was bound and thrown into the back seat. They made quick work of moving the plane back into the hangar and closing the door. It would be less suspicious if we made it look like they’d decided not to fly out today.
Coast slid behind the wheel of Luca’s car. “See you atthe junkyard,” he said, tapping the side of his fist outside the door and pulling away.
“We’ll take the sedan,” I said, guiding Merci toward the vehicle. “She’s not in any shape to be on a bike.”
Reaper nodded. “I’ll get a few prospects out to get your bike and Coast’s.”
Merrick stepped in front of me, putting a hand on my chest to nudge me aside. He pulled Merci into his arms, holding her as tight as he dared with her injuries.
“Glad you’re alive,” he murmured into her hair. “It would’ve been too late if Hatchet hadn’t stopped by the hospital to see you.”
She pulled back and smirked. “Does that mean you’re done being a grump-a-pus over our relationship?”
He hugged her once more, then pulled away. “No,” he said flatly, spinning on his heel and heading to his bike.
Reaper, Fuse, and Merrick fired up their bikes and left as I helped Merci into the passenger seat. A pale sheen of sweat shimmered on her forehead, and her breath came shallow and tight.
“You don’t look good,” I observed.
She shot me a glare. “Just what every woman wants to hear.”
I reached for her hand. “Are you sure you’re OK? I think you should get checked out.”
“Which one of us went to medical school?” she huffed. “Now, let’s get to the junkyard. I don’t want Merrick to get carried away before I’ve had my shot.”
I sighed. “Fine.”
* * *
