Page 74 of Carver’s Crusade

“Tough,” Min snaps. “You came here for help. You got it.”

Caitlin moves into action instantly. “Evie, Tally, you two stay here.”

Evie opens her mouth to argue, but Caitlin cuts her off with one look.

“You’re both pregnant. End of discussion.”

Tally sighs but nods reluctantly, one hand drifting protectively over her stomach.

My heart pounds so hard it feels painful as I push away from the couch.

“I’m getting my gear.”

I don’t wait for permission.

I sprint upstairs two steps at a time and slam into Carver’s bedroom. My hands shake as I yank open the duffel bag to retrieve my weapons. The taser, pepper spray, and folding knife all go into my pockets.

Then I reach for the metal container containing vials of the poison. I consider leaving it behind, but I slip it into the waistband of my jeans. I may need it. The Trial isn’t just for men. Sometimes women are just as guilty.

The women are gathered near the bar when I return. Min is taking control effortlessly, assigning weapons while Jackson argues weakly in the background.

“You shouldn’t be risking yourselves for this,” he says hoarsely. “Nancy’s dangerous.”

“So are we,” Tanya replies coldly.

Jackson looks torn. Every instinct in him is screaming not to let the women walk into danger, but fear for Mia is destroying him from the inside out.

Marcus suddenly steps forward, fists clenched at his sides.

“We have to go,” he says.

Everyone goes quiet.

Marcus swallows hard. “Nancy plans to sell Mia.”

The words suck every bit of oxygen from the room.

Jackson closes his eyes as if the statement physically wounds him.

“She used to talk about it when she was high,” Marcus continues, voice trembling. “Said pretty little girls were worth money. I know she already has a buyer ready. I think that’s why she made her move.”

Rage explodes inside me so violently that my vision blurs.

Min nods at me. “Then we don’t have time to waste.”

And just like that, our rescue team moves toward the door like a pack of wolves going to war.

CHAPTER 29: CARVER

The steady rumble of my motorcycle vibrates beneath me as Shield and I arrive at Tony’s gym. My bike idles low and mean beneath me, the engine thrumming through my boots while I watch the entrance through darkened lenses. We’re parked down the street and out of view of the main window.

Shield parks beside me, one boot planted on the pavement while he checks the tracker screen mounted near his handlebars. Every man involved tonight is patched into the same communication line through helmet speakers and concealed mics.

The entire club is spread across the city. We’re waiting, watching, and ready to hunt.

I rest my forearms on the handlebars and lean forward.

“You good?” Shield asks through the comms.