The truck rolls over the gravel with a low crunch beneath the tires.
Olivia doesn’t move in my arms.
That stays at the front of everything. Not the men waiting outside. Not the driver bound in the van. Not the blood drying on my knuckles or the ache in my ribs where the baton caught me.
Her.
Her breathing is still steady, but too shallow for my liking. Her head rests against my chest, and every time the vehicle shifts, I adjust my hold without looking down. She’s tucked close, coat wrapped around her, hair spilling over my forearm. Too still. Too quiet. That drug is still in her.
I don’t like it. I don’t like anything about it.
Joker pulls the cage up near the side entrance closest to the infirmary and cuts the engine. The second the headlights die, the doors of the clubhouse open.
Logan comes out first. President. Control. Fury locked behind his teeth.
Cain is right behind him, eyes already moving past me to the SUV, to the bound men being hauled from the other vehicle by Hammer and the prospects. Shadow is farther back, silent, watching everything with that steady way of his.
Blaze gets off his bike near the front and starts talking before his boots fully hit gravel. “Well, good news,” he says, scanning the lot. “Nobody’s bored anymore.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps.
Blaze lifts both hands. “That felt personal.”
I ignore both of them. I open my door and get out carefully, Olivia still in my arms. Moving with another body against mine should slow me down. It doesn’t. I’m aware of her weight, her breathing, the angle of her neck, the position of her arm where it rests limp against my chest.
Nothing else matters the same.
Logan’s eyes land on her. His expression changes. Not soft. Logan doesn’t go soft when trouble arrives. He goes colder. More controlled. “What the fuck, Cobra?”
I step away from the cage and shut the door with my hip. “Doc here?”
“On his way.”
“Then move.”
His jaw tightens. “You brought an unconscious woman to my clubhouse with bodies in tow and heat already breathing down our necks. You don’t get to walk past me..”
I keep moving anyway. I’ll take the punishment for the disrespect later.
Men shift around us. Not toward her. They know better because I make sure they know better. My hold tightens just enough, and my eyes cut across the lot once. Tate, Eli, Connor, James, and Parker all stop where they are. One of them was about to step forward, probably to help with her. They rethink it.
Smart.
“No one touches her,” I say. The words are low, but they carry.
The whole lot hears them.
Logan hears them too. His stare sharpens. “Nobody’s trying to touch her.”
“Good.” I take another step.
Logan moves into my path. Not aggressive. Not stupid. Just president standing in front of a brother who brought a problem through the gate when they’re already sitting under pressure.
I stop because plowing through Logan in front of the club would start something neither of us needs. But I don’t lower her. Don’t shift her away. Don’t make her visible. I keep her tucked against me like the world doesn’t get a vote.
Logan looks from my face to Olivia, then back. “Talk.”
“Van outside Ambrosia. Not tied to the club.”
