Page 58 of Cries of Cassie

No. no. NO.

My heart spasms and stops, red clouding my vision until I'm not sure if I'm imagining her hair or a puddle of her blood. "Rip—" Before I can finish even figuring out what to say, I see smoke and push my bike to the limit, trying to get there before we're too late.

As soon as I see pieces of Cassie's car scattered on the road, I press the brakes, but I practically fling myself off my bike, which is still moving. It comes to a loud thunk a few feet away against the ground, but I don't fucking care. The moment I rip my helmet off, I hear a familiar voice cursing a name that makes my blood run cold.

Jake. "THEY'LL KILL YOU, VICTOR!"

Someone screams Cassie's name. Maybe it's me, who knows? Our desperation and fear all sound the fucking same, and it leads to one thing. Find Cassidy right the fuck now!

Boots squelching and slipping through the deep tracks my woman's car made, I slip and tumble down the hill, praying I'll find anything other than the two scenarios my mind keeps conjuring up.

Is she gone or is she dead?

My gut roils when I register the driver's side door completely ripped off its hinges, multiple yards away from where the car landed. Tripping over a piece of bumper, I come crashing to my knees right in front of her empty seat.

"Where is she?" I wheeze, seeing Jake for the first time. His legs are pinned, and the trickle of blood running from his temple would concern me if I knew that the love of my life was alive and well.

As it stands, this is all of our worst nightmares wrapped into one.

"He took her. She—" Jake coughs and literally fucking screams when Parker and Ripley rip his door open. "Jesus. She was unconscious. Victor took her. I couldn't help. I'm stuck."

I can feel the rage burning to a boiling point. Whatever comes out of my mouth won't be nice or supportive. I've well and truly lost the calm president that runs this club. All I know is Cassie was taken from me after being run off the motherfucking ROAD! "WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LET HER LEAVE?!"

Koa grabs me and, in a surprising show of strength, drags me away from the car while Rip and Parker work to free Cassie's friend. That's what I need to remind myself when I look at him for a while. He's her friend. She would never forgive me if I killed him.

"Mads, focus," Koa begs, slapping my face a few times to snap me out of my misplaced anger. "We need a plan. Pull your head out of Jake's ass and call an emergency church meeting."

"On the road," I add, ignoring how stupid that would be.

Logically, I know we need our weapons, officers, and a plan to get her home safely. The problem is everything inside me is demanding that I pick up my bike and bust down Victor's gates with nothing but determination.

"No," Koa snaps. "We go back. I'll pull up camera footage to see if I can track them, and you start calling in favors. We have two rats in his club, fucking use them. And use your goddamn brain. LET'S GO!"

Parker and Ripley help Jake up the ditch, while I continue to stare at Cassie's blood against the steering wheel. I have to ignore the spattering of blood on her seat belt and windshield where the blow sprayed, or I'll throw up.

"Stop. Stop looking and figure your shit out. Cassie needs you. She needs us. I'm already sick of wrangling you assholes today, so pick up your bike and help us find her."

With that, Koa leaves me standing in the mud with debris scattered around my boots. How did I not know she was hurting enough to risk her safety to feel better?

When I get her home, I'll make damn sure she knows she must tell me fucking everything. I can't do my job as her protector if she holds things back.

"FUCK!" I scream and sprint up to my motorcycle, barely remembering to grab my helmet. To my partners, I vow, "We'll find her."

Parker growls, "We fucking better."

"We will," Koa's quick to soothe him.

Ripley's silent until he murmurs, "I'll burn all my morals to get her home."

Victor has Cassie, but I bet he doesn't realize what he's unleashed. He will.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Cassie

Waking up to a man judging the shape of my body is more annoying than a pesky hangover after partying too hard with Violet.

"I can get on board with the bright red hair and big tits, but the hips and thighs? I don't get it. My research tells me you haven't given birth, so why are your hips so wide?"