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Page 6 of Panther’s Magpie (Mountain River MC #1)

CHAPTER

FIVE

MAGGIE

I can’t believe I’m doing this. This has got to be the dumbest thing I have ever suggested.

Still, it’s been over a week with no leads. I can tell Panther is getting more agitated with each day that passes. Whoever has Aspen has done a good job at hiding her.

I have no idea what is truly going on, but it’s more than whatever happened in that bar. That much is obvious to me. I have been watching these guys move around the compound. I hear the whispers they think they are hiding from me.

Whoever this Ragged Anarchy MC is, they are no joke.

Aspen, please be okay. Don’t get into any more trouble than you are already in.

I throw the thoughts out there, hoping she somehow gets them, because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that Aspen isn’t keeping her mouth shut.

I love how sassy she can be. She’s the complete opposite of me. She stands up for herself and tells people how it really is, while I keep my mouth shut and try to disappear into the background.

Right now, I hope she is taking a page from my book and keeping quiet. Those men didn’t seem like the type that would appreciate a mouthy woman.

My hands shake as I glance in my rearview mirror.

As we went to leave the clubhouse, Eagle came back heated.

I know he doesn’t want me doing this, but I was surprised when he offered to take me instead.

Panther insisted on being the one to come with me even though Eagle told him it should be him because he would be more clear-headed.

Panther worried Eagle would abandon the mission before it even began.

They argued over it for a bit, but in the end, Panther is the boss around here.

So there he sits on top of his motorcycle without any identifying features on him.

One thing I learned from Meek is the men always wear their cuts so people know who they represent. Panther taking his off means he doesn’t want to be spotted. I get why. He is following me solo into enemy territory.

I don’t even have a way of telling him I’m in trouble. All we agreed upon was that he would give me twenty minutes before he came storming in after me. I don’t know why he cares. I’m expendable to him. I’m not Aspen. He has no reason to care about me.

Still, it feels nice to know he would come, even if it’s for some silly reason he made up in his head.

I watch as he pulls over to the side of the road. Only about a mile left. This was our agreement. He would wait for me there as I continued on.

It doesn’t take me long to pull up to the bar. It looks much different now. Only two motorcycles out front. That makes me hopeful that the man who picked me out of the crowd isn’t there. The one who wore the same president patch as Panther. That man scares me.

Taking a deep breath, I head inside the bar. I was right. It is empty in here besides two men in the corner playing pool. They each glance my way before going back to their business.

I walk up to the bar, happy to find Asher behind it. His eyes widen when he sees me.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses at me.

“I need to find my friend,” I whisper.

He grabs my arm, pulling me closer to the front door. He glances over and sees the men preoccupied.

“You can’t be here. They are looking for you. They know you got away.”

“Because of you. Thank you, by the way.” I keep my voice low.

“No, you got away because Monster was too worried about the pretty blond while you slipped away. I had nothing to do with it,” he tells me, his eyes hard.

“Got it. Now where is she?” I ask him.

“Listen, it is admirable that you would come back here for your friend, but she is in deeper than you realize. She is connected to the Mountain River MC somehow. Now these guys are salivating over what they can use her for. This is dangerous. A war is brewing. You need to go before you get hurt,” he whisper-yells at me.

“I’m not leaving with nothing. Where is she? Tell me something.”

He heaves out a breath. “She’s safe. They aren’t hurting her yet because of the connection. They are strategizing how to hurt the Mountain River MC the worst. I am doing what I can to keep her safe. That’s all I can tell you.”

“So you know where she is at?”

He shakes his head. “Get out of here. I can’t tell you that, and you know it. Now go.”

He turns and pushes me toward the door. Before he can, one of the men from the pool table yells out.

“Asher, who is the girl? Care to share?” he says as he makes his way closer.

“An ex of mine. Too prissy. Got a used pussy too. You would hate it,” Asher calls back to the man.

He doesn’t seem to care, though. Before Asher can get me out the door, the man grabs my arm, pulling me closer to him.

My heart is racing in my chest. I knew this was a possibility, but I had hoped not.

“Let me go,” I tell the man.

He laughs. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. We only want a little fun. A used-up pussy is still a pussy.”

He runs his free hand up the inside of my thigh. I wait until he looks down before I knee him in the balls. I miss, though, hitting him just to the left.

A loud clack rings out through the room as his palm meets my face. I feel dizzy as I realize he slapped me. Thank God it was open-handed. If he had really punched me, I think I would have passed out.

Asher frowns but doesn’t do anything. He can’t, I realize. If he does, these men will likely turn on him. I’m on my own.

Glancing to my right. I see a big glass of beer that is half drunk. It must be from someone who left. Reaching out, I pick it up, slamming it as hard as I can against the man’s head. The glass shatters, slicing my palm, but the man falls to the ground.

He is not knocked out, but it’s the opening I need. I run to my car, get into it, and peel out of there like a bat out of hell. I push the little convertible to the limit, hitting triple digits as I attempt to keep the car on the road.

I keep glancing in my mirror, expecting them to come after me. When a motorcycle does fall in line behind me, I panic. That is until he gets up close to me and I recognize Panther.

Slowing down to a more manageable pace, I finally take a deep breath.

That was close, but I would do anything for Aspen.

Even die.

PANTHER

I have no idea what happened at that bar, but Maggie is not okay. I can tell by the way she flew by me going as fast as that little car of hers would go. I half expected people to be following her, but the road is clear. So I catch up to her instead.

At first, she doesn’t slow down, but then slowly the car eases to a better speed.

By the time we get back to the compound, she is driving almost normally.

Still, guilt gnaws at me as I think of what made her react that way. I know these men are dangerous, and I still sent her in there. My desperation to find Aspen clouded my judgment.

I’m a fucking asshole.

I squeeze the handlebars until my fingers hurt.

For the first time in my life, I’m ashamed of a decision I made.

I should be protecting her, not letting her walk into danger. Aspen would kick my ass for this. Fuck, I should kick my own ass for it.

All I can hope for is that she is okay.

As soon as we are through the gate, I hop off my motorcycle and set my helmet on top. Maggie is a bit slower getting out. When I see the blood covering her hand and dripping on the ground, I almost get back on my bike and ride back to that bar.

One of those men hurt her. They will pay for it.

Like it or not, Maggie is now under my protection. No one hurts what’s mine.

Stalking up to her, I turn her to face me. That’s when I see the red mark on her face already starting to bruise.

“What happened?”

Tears are stained on her face as she shakes her head. “I need a first aid kit.”

Of course she does. I glance into her car and see all the blood. How much has she lost?

Grabbing her arm gently, I lead her inside. Instead of going down the hall to the bathroom, I take her into my office. I move her to the edge of my desk before I pick her up and sit her on the edge. When she doesn’t move, I grab my kit from the cabinet. Then I get to work tending to her wounds.

“There’s glass in your hand. It’s embedded pretty deep. This is going to hurt. You’re going to need stitches,” I tell her.

“Do you have someone here who can do it?” she asks.

“Not without leaving a scar.”

She sighs. “I don’t care about scars. I just don’t want to die. Not before we get Aspen back.”

I don’t like her tone of voice.

“You’re not dying no matter what. Don’t talk like that,” I bark at her.

She startles, looking down at me. She doesn’t say anything as I grab the tweezers to pull the glass out of her hand. She winces and whines a little but doesn’t speak a word.

“What happened?” I ask her as I finish up the first task.

“Asher was there. He said that Aspen is safe and he is doing what he can to protect her. They are planning the way to use her best to hurt you.”

Her words make me angry, but I try to rein them in. She doesn’t deserve my anger. They do.

I use some alcohol on her hand, hating the way she lets out a pained noise through her gritted teeth. She’s doing so well, though. She put on a tough face and is letting me do what I need to in order to get this done.

“Here.” I pull out two small bottles of whiskey. “Drink these.”

“I don’t like whiskey,” she tells me.

“Tough shit. I’m about to stick a needle through your skin multiple times, so drink them.”

She freezes a moment before she attempts to open one of the bottles with her free hand. I snatch it from her, opening it and handing it back. Then I open the second as I watch her down the first, shaking her head like she might throw up. She takes several deep breaths as her eyes water.

I hand her the second one, watching as she mentally works up to taking it. When she does, a little misses her mouth. I wipe the dribble from her mouth before I suck it into my own.

“Good girl,” I tell her.

Her eyes flash at the words. I think little Maggie has a praise kink. I wonder if she even knows about it.

Shaking my head, I focus back on her hand.

“This is going to hurt like hell, so do whatever you have to. Scream. Hit me. Whatever, but keep this hand still. Understand?”

“Yes,” she says through her teary eyes.

“Good.”

Then I set to work. The first stitch has her stifling her first scream with her other hand. The second has the tears flowing freely. By the third, her nails dig into my shoulder with her free hand.

It stings, but I don’t mind it. I like that she is lashing out at me while in pain. As if making me hurt will help ease her own. Once I’m done, she practically sags in relief.

I stand, wrapping my arms around her, offering her the only comfort I can.

She sobs into my chest. “I’m sorry about your shoulder.”

“Shh. Don’t even worry about it. Now tell me, how did you get hurt? Was it the Asher guy?”

“No. He was trying to get me to leave when another member came up. Asher lied about who I was, but the guy still wanted me. I tried to knee him, so he hit me. I smashed a glass against his head, then ran,” she tells me.

“Who is this Asher guy? Why do you trust him?” I ask.

“I don’t know. He seems to want to keep me out of danger. He said he was helping Aspen.”

“How could he help her if he’s a bartender?” I point out.

“He was wearing a cut too, only his said prospect.”

My whole body tenses.

Prospect.

He is trying to be part of their club.

We tried finding out who Asher was based on her description but couldn’t find him. Now he’s a prospect? That’s not a coincidence.

“Maggie, do you know what a prospect is?” I ask her.

“No.”

“It means they are trying to join the club. He is trying to be a Ragged Anarchy,” I tell her.

“He’s not helping Aspen, is he?” she whispers.

I hold her tighter because I don’t want to admit it out loud.

Asher isn’t helping Aspen at all.

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