Page 24 of Blade (Spartan Watchmen MC #5)

"Oh, we're just getting started," Jose said, his tone changing from mock kindness to something darker. "Did you really think I'd let any of you leave here alive? After what you've cost me?"

And there it was. The inevitable double-cross.

"Move, move, move!" Lucky's voice cut in on the second channel, ordering the teams into action. "Jose's making his play. All units converge!"

On the tactical display, the GPS markers for the team began moving rapidly toward the quarry center. But they were still minutes away. Minutes Lily might not have. Blade’s heart was damn near beating out of his chest.

"Take them," Jose ordered, his voice fading slightly as if he'd stepped back from the confrontation.

The sound of a scuffle came through the comm. A feminine grunt of pain. Makenzie? Lily? Blade couldn't tell. A man's shout. The thud of a body hitting the ground.

"Run!" Lily's voice, urgent and commanding. "Get to the car! Now!"

The crack of a gunshot echoed through the speakers, then another. More scuffling, more shouting.

Blade surged to his feet, ignoring the tearing pain in his chest, the warm wetness that immediately began to spread across his shirt as stitches gave way.

"Sit down!" Doc ordered, trying to restrain him. "You can't help her by bleeding out here!"

"The hell I can't," Blade growled, shoving the smaller man aside. "Give me a weapon."

"Blade, don't—" Jay began, but he cut him off with a look that promised violence to anyone who tried to stop him.

"A weapon," he repeated. "Now."

Jay hesitated, then reached into a drawer, producing a handgun. "At least let Doc re-dress that wound before you go getting yourself killed," he said, not releasing the weapon yet.

"No time," Blade insisted, holding out his hand. "Our people are in the shit, and I'm not sitting here listening while it happens."

Another gunshot through the speakers. A man's scream of pain. Then Lily's voice again, breathless but determined.

"Fall back to the extraction point! I've got Marcus!"

She was fighting. His Lily, his baby girl, was fighting for her life, for Marcus's life, while he stood uselessly in the clubhouse, miles away.

Unacceptable.

Doc must have seen the resolve in his eyes, the willingness to go through him if necessary.

"There's a bike ready outside. Keys in the ignition.

Blade, you won't make it in time. The action's happening now.

Lily is going to be devastated if you end up dead on the side of the road, bled out from stupidity. "

"I’ll be fine and if I don’t make it there in time, I'll deal with the aftermath," he replied grimly, checking the weapon before tucking it into his waistband. "Coordinates?"

Jay rattled them off, then added, "At least take some backup. Prospects are on standby."

But Blade was already moving, the adrenaline temporarily masking the worst of the pain from his reopened wound. He'd deal with that later. Right now, only one thing mattered.

Getting to Lily.

The clubhouse was largely empty, most able-bodied members having joined the operation at the quarry. Only a few prospects remained, lounging in the main area until they spotted Blade emerging from the tactical room, blood soaking his shirt, murder in his eyes.

"You," he barked at the nearest one, a young man named Jordan who'd proven himself reliable. "With me. Now."

To his credit, the prospect didn't hesitate, falling in behind Blade as he stalked toward the exit.

Outside, the promised motorcycle waited, a Harley Road King, not Blade's preferred ride, but powerful enough for what he needed. Beside it, a second bike for the prospect.

"We're headed to the quarry," Blade informed him, swinging his leg over the motorcycle with a grunt of pain. "Stay on my six, do exactly as I say, and don't ask questions."

"Got it," Jordan replied, already mounting his own bike.

Through the tiny comm unit still in his ear, Blade could hear the sounds of battle intensifying. Gunfire. Shouts. The distinctive whomp of flash-bang grenades as the club's rescue force presumably emerged from the tunnels beneath the quarry.

"Lily, status!" Savage's voice, urgent and commanding.

No response.

"Lily, do you copy?" Savage again, more insistent.

Still nothing.

Cold fear gripped Blade's heart as he fired up the motorcycle, the engine roaring to life beneath him. Had her comm been damaged? Had she been hit? Captured?

Worse?

"All units, be advised," Lucky's voice cut through the chaos. "Primary package is down. I repeat, primary package is down."

The world seemed to stop spinning. Primary package. Lily. Down.

"Status?" Savage demanded, the single word carrying the weight of the question they were all asking.

A pause that stretched into eternity.

"Unknown," Lucky replied grimly. "Area still hot. Cannot reach her position."

Blade gunned the engine, the motorcycle leaping forward as he tore out of the clubhouse lot, the prospect scrambling to keep up behind him.

Hold on, baby girl. Just hold on. I'm coming.

The journey passed in a blur of speed and pain, Blade pushing the motorcycle well beyond safe limits as they raced toward the quarry. Each mile was a battle against his injured body, against the blood he could feel soaking his shirt, against the fear threatening to overwhelm his tactical mind.

Through it all, he kept the comm channel open, listening to the sporadic updates from the battlefield.

"North ridge secured."

"Two tangos down by the equipment shed."

"Jose spotted moving toward the eastern exit."

"Marcus secure, en route to extraction point alpha."

But nothing about Lily. No updates. No confirmation of her status. Just the terrible silence where her voice should have been.

By the time they reached the outskirts of the quarry, the sounds of combat had largely subsided. Occasional gunshots still echoed through the comm, but the intense firefight appeared to be over.

Blade slowed the motorcycle as they approached a roadblock, club members securing the perimeter, turning away any civilian traffic that might happen upon the scene.

One of them recognized him immediately. "Blade! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Where's Lily?" Blade demanded, ignoring the question as he dismounted, wincing as the movement pulled at his wound.

Decker's expression told him everything he needed to know. "Man, you should talk to Lucky or Savage. They're?—"

"Where. Is. She." Each word was a bullet, precisely aimed.

Decker swallowed hard, then pointed toward the quarry floor. "Medical tent. They set up a triage point by the old office building."

Blade was moving before the man finished speaking, leaving the prospect to deal with the bikes. The pain in his chest was distant now, secondary to the driving need to find Lily.

The quarry was a scene of controlled chaos. Club members secured the area, checking bodies, collecting weapons. A helicopter sat on the far side, the medevac Trinity had arranged, its rotors still as medical personnel worked nearby.

And there, near a dilapidated building that must have once housed the quarry's administrative offices, a large tent had been erected.

Red cross symbols marked it as a medical station.

Blade moved toward it with single-minded focus, ignoring the surprised looks from brothers who clearly hadn't expected to see him here, much less upright and mobile.

At the tent entrance, Savage intercepted him, blocking his path with a firm hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Blade, wait."

"Get out of my way," Blade growled.

"You need to prepare yourself," Savage insisted, not releasing him. "It's bad."

A roaring filled Blade's ears, drowning out everything but the terrible implication of those words. Bad. It's bad.

"Let me see her," he demanded, his voice raw with emotion he couldn't contain. "Now."

Savage studied him for a moment, then nodded once, stepping aside.

The tent was crowded with the injured, club members with various wounds being treated by the medical team. Blade scanned the space desperately, searching for blonde hair, for the small form he'd come to cherish.

There, on a cot at the far end. A still figure, surrounded by medical personnel from the med transport working with urgent efficiency. Blood-soaked bandages. IV lines. Monitoring equipment hastily set up.

And Lily, pale as death, unconscious as they worked to save her.

Blade's legs nearly gave out at the sight. Only iron will kept him upright, moving forward through the tent toward her. The medical team parted silently at his approach, recognizing either his rank in the club or the devastation on his face.

"Two GSWs," one of them reported quietly as Blade reached the cot. "One to the shoulder, through and through. The other to the abdomen, more complicated. We've stabilized her for transport, but she needs a trauma center. Helicopter's being prepped now."

Blade barely heard them, his focus entirely on Lily's face. So still. So pale. Nothing like the vibrant, determined woman who'd left the clubhouse that morning. Who'd promised to come back to him.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice a rasp.

"She saved Marcus," came Lucky's voice from behind him. "When Jose's men made their move, she put herself between them and Marcus. Took fire meant for him. Then kept fighting, kept him moving until Rampage could reach them." A pause. "She's a fucking hero, Blade."

A hero. Yes. His brave, stubborn, incredible Lily.

He reached out, hand trembling, to brush a strand of blood-matted hair from her forehead. "You promised to come back to me, baby girl," he whispered, too quietly for anyone else to hear. "Don't you dare break that promise now."

Her eyelids fluttered at his touch. A tiny movement, almost imperceptible, but Blade caught it.

"Lily?" he called, hope surging. "Lily, can you hear me?"

Another flutter. Then, miraculously, her eyes opened, just barely, unfocused and clouded with pain, but open.

"Bl...ade?" Her voice was a whisper, barely audible.

"I'm here," he assured her, carefully taking her hand in his. "I'm right here, baby girl."

"Told you... I'd come... back," she managed, each word clearly requiring immense effort.

A choked sound escaped him, something between a laugh and a sob. "Yes, you did. Now you need to rest and let these people help you."

Her fingers tightened weakly around his. "Jose?"

"Don't worry about him," Blade said firmly. "Just focus on staying with me, okay?"

Her eyes drifted closed again, but her hand maintained its tenuous grip on his. "Kay... Daddy."

The word, spoken with such simple trust despite her pain, nearly broke him. He pressed his forehead to their joined hands, fighting for control.

"Sir," one of the medical team interrupted gently, "we need to move her now. The helicopter's ready."

Blade nodded, understanding the urgency, but found himself unable to release her hand. Unable to let her go, even for the time it would take to transport her to the hospital.

"I'm coming with her," he stated, his tone making it clear this wasn't a request.

The medic glanced at his blood-soaked shirt. "You need treatment yourself."

"I can be treated there. But I'm not leaving her side."

Something in his expression must have conveyed the absolute non-negotiability of this point, because the medic simply nodded. "Alright. But you'll need to let us work during transport."

"Understood," Blade agreed, finally allowing himself to be ushered back slightly as they prepared to move Lily's cot.

Savage appeared at his side as the medical team began the transfer. "Jose escaped," he reported quietly. "Three of his men are dead, two captured. But he slipped away in the confusion."

Blade absorbed this information, a cold, deadly calm settling over him. "He won't get far."

"We'll find him," Savage agreed. "But right now, you need to focus on Lily. On getting yourself patched up too, from the looks of it."

Blade glanced down at his shirt, now thoroughly soaked with blood from his reopened wound. The adrenaline that had carried him this far was beginning to fade, allowing the pain to resurface with vengeance.

"I'll live," he said dismissively. "Unlike Jose, when I get my hands on him."

Savage didn't argue the point, just clapped him carefully on his uninjured shoulder. "Go with her. We've got this handled here."

Blade nodded, already moving to follow as Lily's cot was carried toward the waiting helicopter. The rotor wash whipped dust and debris around them as they approached, the noise making communication impossible except through gestures.

The medical team loaded Lily first, securing her cot in the specially designed interior.

Then, with surprising gentleness given his size and intimidating appearance, they helped Blade aboard as well, settling him in a seat adjacent to Lily where he could maintain contact with her without interfering with their work.

As the helicopter lifted off, carrying them toward the trauma center, Blade kept his eyes fixed on Lily's face. On the gentle rise and fall of her chest that confirmed she still fought. Still lived.

His baby girl. His warrior.

Jose had tried to take her from him. Had very nearly succeeded. For that, there would be a reckoning. The club would hunt him down, would make him pay for every drop of Lily's blood spilled today.

But that was for tomorrow.

Today, all that mattered was that she lived. That she healed. That she came back to him fully, as she'd promised.

Everything else; vengeance, justice, the future they'd begun to imagine together, all of it hinged on her survival.

"Stay with me, baby girl," he whispered, the words lost in the helicopter's roar but the sentiment burning like fire in his chest. "Just stay with me."

And as if she somehow heard him despite her unconscious state, despite the noise surrounding them, Lily's fingers twitched against his. The smallest response. The greatest promise.

I'm still here. I'm still fighting. I'm coming back to you.

It was enough. It had to be.