Page 3 of Healed

She stood tall and proud, looking like a beautiful blonde warrior. Her hair streamed down her back, and her eyes shimmered with rage.

“E-fucking-nough!” she repeated, her voice quieter, but somehow having more of an impact. Slowly but surely, the bar quietened.

“We’re not going to do this,” she said, wiping her tears. “This is not who we are. Not anymore. Catastrophising was Crash’s way of dealing with things and that is not how we rule. We are the Devil’s fucking Disciples, and we are under Dante’s leadership. Let’s fucking remember that!”

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and when she snapped them open again, there was renewed life in them. “Hacksaw, what do we know?”

“Vienna is a fucking idiot?” Hacksaw replied.

“Correct! Vienna is a fucking idiot. But he is our idiot. And do you know what else we know?”

“He—”

“Shut up, Pivot,” one of the other men said, elbowing Pivot in the side.

“Thank you, Greg,” Rachel said. “What we know about Vienna is that he took charge in a time of crisis. He kept his head and made sure shit got done. He damned sure didn’t sit around crying. Remember when Dante was kidnapped? Who led the rescue mission? Vienna!” she yelled, not waiting for an answer. “And we will not be sitting around assuming the worst and crying either. We will follow his example and find him, one way or another. Dante, how long until the other charters arrive?”

“Hours, maybe less,” Dante said, checking his watch.

“Not ideal, but we can work with it. For now, it looks like we’re on our own.”

“What’s the plan?” Pivot asked, looking confused.

“We’re getting our man back,” she replied as though he were stupid. “And we’re doing it right fucking now!”

She jumped down from the stool as the bar erupted in cheers.

“Listen up, everyone!” Dante yelled. “We need everyone ready and mobilised to leave in two minutes. Sharp.”

“Dante, get—”

“Already on it, darling,” Dante grinned back. “I’ve already sent Heather a message. She’s going to stay behind with the kids and keep them all in the safe room. And yes, she’s armed and loaded, just in case.”

“Perfect,” Rachel breathed, looking relieved. “Send Trex her way as well. The bikes—”

“Are on their way,” Dante interrupted, following her train of thought. “Riley is sorting it all. Have you got—?”

“The guns?” Rachel interrupted, reaching under the bar and grabbing something taped underneath. She pulled out a gun, checked the ammo, and then pocketed it. “Please. I’m Rachel fucking King. When do I not have a weapon?”

Dante grabbed hold of her by her waist, pulling her closer and planting a rough kiss to her forehead.

“We’re getting him back,” he whispered against her skin.

She nodded. “I know. But if he—”

“He isn’t.”

“But if he is, I’m resurrecting him and killing him myself,” she muttered before they pulled away from each other and began pulling on their gear.

“Right. Hacksaw, you get the stash of guns from the basement,” Dante boomed, keeping his old lady tucked against his side once they were dressed in their riding clothes. “Pivot, the knives are… shit, where is the latest shipment of—”

“Locked in the workshop,” Rachel finished seamlessly. “Pivot, you know where the key is. What’s the ETA on these bikes?”

“All prepped and loaded, boss lady,” Chris grinned back at her, poking his head out of the clubhouse doors.

“How long until everyone is ready and we can get the fuck out of here?” she asked.

“A minute. Max.”