Page 127 of Until Joy

“She was in the parking garage,” Jax said. “She was walking voluntarily with some woman, who then stabbed a syringe into her neck, then pushed her into the trunk of her car.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. The room went dead silent except for the beeping of my monitors.

“Short brown hair?” I asked Nico.

“Yes.”

I turned to July. “Could it be this Glenda bitch?”

“Are you asking if Glenda could have drugged and kidnapped Joy?” Kayan asked.

“Yes!” I spit out.

“Hell yes,” Kayan answered. “I always thought she had psycho tendencies.”

“How long ago?” Seth's voice was deadly calm.

“Fifty-three minutes,” Jax said, checking his watch. “We've got the license plate and vehicle description. We’ve got an all-points bulletin out on the car.”

I started pulling off the monitors attached to my chest as I sat up, fighting the dizziness threatening to send me back under.

“Graham, what are you doing?” July grabbed my good arm.

“I'm going after her.”

“You can barely sit up.”

“I don't care. That psycho has Joy. I'm not lying here doing nothing.”

“You'll be useless in your condition,” Wes said firmly. “Let us handle this.”

“She's my woman.” The words came out as a growl. “I should have protected her.”

“And you will,” Nico said. “But right now, the best thing you can do is let us find her while you heal enough to be useful.”

The logical part of my brain knew they were right. I could barely stand without help, let alone track down a kidnapper. But every instinct I had screamed that I should be out there hunting for Joy, not lying helpless in a hospital bed.

“Find her,” I said to the room at large. “I don't care what it takes. Find her and bring her home.”

As my brothers filed out to coordinate the search, one thought kept circling through my mind.

Glenda had been right under our noses the entire time. Playing the concerned friend, earning Joy's trust, gathering information about our routines and security measures.

And now she had the woman I loved.

The silence in my hospital room felt heavier than the pain radiating through my broken ribs. Fifteen minutes had passed since my brothers filed out to coordinate the search for Joy, leaving me with nothing but the steady beep of monitors and the crushing weight of my own failures.

July sat in the uncomfortable vinyl chair beside my bed, her phone pressed to her ear as she coordinated with someone about search grids. Kayan paced the small space like a caged animal, her usually perfect hair disheveled from running her hands through it.

I stared at the ceiling tiles, counting the water stains while my mind spiraled into familiar territory. The kind of dark thoughts that had haunted me since Africa. Since I'd led good men into an ambush and watched them die because I'd trusted bad intelligence.

You failed them.

The voice in my head sounded like my own, but crueler. More vicious.

You were supposed to protect them. You were supposed to see the trap coming. You were supposed to bring them home.

My chest tightened, and not from the broken ribs. The same crushing weight that had driven me to the edge after losing Todd, Roy, and Hamm pressed down on my sternum like a concrete block.