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My heart cracks, cleaving in two.
"Tell me you have her," I rasp, grabbing him by the vest. "Tell me you have her." I'm not sure if I'm asking, demanding, or begging. "Tell me."
"Cormac."
I let go of Dillon, spinning around so fast I nearly lose my balance. Am I seeing things, or is it her?
"Mischief," I whisper. Soot stains her right cheek and her clothes. Someone wrapped her in a blanket. Crash paces at her side, sticking close.
"You really gotta learn to answer your phone when a girl is having an emergency, Tiny," she says.
I bellow like a wounded fucking bear.
Her blanket flutters to the ground as she launches herself at me, her expression crumbling. Tears pour down her face in a flood as I drag her into my arms.
She's safe.
Ah, God. She's safe.
"They knew where she was going before she ever left the state," Callum says, eyeing me wearily from across the table in the clubhouse kitchen. "They planted a bug at her dad's house."
"Jesus," Cash mutters.
"I'll take care of it," Hacker says, shooting me a look.
I jerk my chin in a nod. The last thing Mac needs is the fucking Dixie Mafia having a hotline directly into his home. He's a billionaire. God only knows what they'd do with access to a man like him and his business partners.
"They were just waiting for an opportunity to make a play for her." Callum fingers the bruise across the side of his face, a savage grin dancing at his lips. "The little fucker said they thought I'd be easier to take down than you."
They won't make that mistake again. He killed one of the two. The other, the little fucker, will be extradited back to Tennessee on murder charges once he's released from the hospital.
It'll be a hot minute before that happens. Callum worked him over good, trying to find out what they knew about Isla. Either he's a better liar than he is a criminal, or he and his buddies know nothing about Mischief's twin.
Whatever Isla is up to has nothing to do with this shitshow. Hacker and Callum are leaving first thing in the morning to help Mac find her, but Mischief's nightmare is over.
I think mine is only just beginning. It'll be a long goddamn time before I forget the abject terror I felt today. I thought I lost her. For several agonizing moments, I thought she was gone. That feeling will haunt me for the rest of my life.
"Are we done here?" I rasp, standing up abruptly. I don't want to be here right now, rehashing what happened today with my MC brothers and my cousin. I don't give a fuck how much damage there is to the house or how long it'll take to repair it. None of that matters. I need to be with Mischief.
"Yeah, brother," Cash says, empathy in his eyes. The same reflects in the face of every single one of our brothers— Hands, Cowboy, Andreas, Bender, Fifth, Lynch, Hacker, and Angel. "Go be with your girl. We'll handle shit from here."
I jerk my chin in a nod, grateful beyond measure for the bonds of this brotherhood and the kinship that comes with it. I don't have to explain, not to them. And I don't have to ask, not of them. They know because they've all been here in their own way. We've all hoisted the load so each of us could put it down for a while.
It's who we are. It's what we do. That's the Silver Spoon MC.
"Thank you," I rasp, tapping my hand over my heart.
To a man, they all tap back.
Chapter Twelve
Bella
Cormac'ssuiteattheclubhouse is nothing like I expected. Then again, nothing about him is what I expected. He defies all my expectations in the best ways possible. The heavy driftwood furniture and blue walls make the room feel like an oasis.
I'm seated in the middle of his massive bed, trying to comb through my hair, when he comes barging into the room like he expects to find me crawling out the window. As soon as his gaze settles on me, the tension in his shoulders eases. He closes the door, leaning back against it.
"You showered."
