Page 5

HAVEN

My emotions bubble to the surface, anger raging like a typhoon as I meet him, chest to chest. My arms are still behind my back as he widens his eyes in curiosity, but I coat my mouth with saliva, draw back, and spit. Blood-tinged spittle lands squarely on his face like a tiny beacon of defiance. “You’re a fucking dead man walking,” I rasp, my voice raw, my breathing rapid as I fight to hold myself back.

Slowly, deliberately, he wipes it away. His eyes lock onto mine, a smirk creeping across his lips. Then, without warning, his hand snaps out so fast I don’t have time to brace. The backhand slams into me, sending me sprawling onto my side. I land on my injured shoulder, pain flaring intensely, but it’s a blessing in disguise because it keeps my hands behind my back, maintaining my cover.

“Such spirit,” he muses, straightening out his shirt. “I see why Alpha likes you. Though, I wonder if he’ll still want you if I send you back in pieces? Perhaps we should start with your fingers too? Make it a matching set? I mean, Livvy already has the sympathy vote, so we really should give him a reason to pick you over her, too, right?”

On the table, Livvy lets out another weak moan, drawing Javier’s attention. “Ah, but where are my manners? I’ve been neglecting our other guest.” He strolls toward Livvy, running a finger along her jawline. “She’s held up remarkably well, hasn’t she? Most would have broken by now.”

“You keep your fucking hands off her, you psychotic piece of shit!” I growl, struggling to sit up.

“Tell me, Blue Jay…” Javier continues, “How does it feel to know your club will be destroyed by the very organization you betrayed? To watch everything you love burn because of your choices?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, turning instead to Nighthawk. “Prepare the next phase. I want to record a message for Alpha. Something that will truly break him. It’s time to make Alpha choose which love of his life he wants to save.”

Nighthawk nods, moving to retrieve equipment from a nearby table. As she passes me, her boot scuffs the concrete in a pattern I recognize instantly—three quick taps, pause, two taps.

It’s a signal we use during missions, a warning between birds. I give no indication I’ve understood, keeping my expression fixed as I glare at Javier.

“You think this is going to break Alpha?” I laugh, the sound harsh and mocking. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with. He’s going to hunt you down and carve you up so slowly you’ll be begging for death. Just like your uncle who lost his head. Remember that?”

Javier’s smile falters slightly. “Such loyalty. It will make watching him fall apart all the more satisfying.” He gestures to one of his men. “Bring the camera. Let’s give Alpha a preview of what’s coming.”

The goon moves toward a bag in the corner while another steps closer to me, gripping my wounded shoulder painfully. I let out a yelp as Nighthawk positions herself by Livvy, her back to Javier while she prepares a syringe.

“A little adrenaline to wake Olivia up,” Nighthawk explains clinically. “We want her responsive for the camera, to give Alpha a good show.”

But I see Nighthawk slip something else from her sleeve—a thin blade, which she quietly presses into Livvy’s uninjured hand, and slowly, she curls her fingers around it.

Javier is so focused on his revenge that he doesn’t notice the subtle exchange or the way Nighthawk positions herself between two of his men, her stance subtly shifting to the offensive position I taught her years ago.

My heartbeat accelerates, muscles tense, ready for the fight that’s coming.

Drawing in a deep breath, I calm my heart rate, getting into focus.

I have to remove everything from my mind.

I’m not Haven right now.

I.

Am.

Blue Jay.

Across the room, my eyes meet Nighthawk’s for a split second.

Using just the slightest motion, I nod my head to give her a signal, and without hesitation, in one fluid motion, Nighthawk spins, driving a hidden blade into the throat of the nearest guard. Before the other can react, she kicks him hard in the knee, the sickening crack of breaking bone echoes through the facility.

Simultaneously, I throw myself backward, using the momentum to roll onto my knees. The guard holding me curses, reaching for his weapon, but I’m faster. Bringing my hand up and swiping it to the side, my palm slams into his wrist, and I hear the residual crack through the air. He screams as his hand goes limp, his gun falling to the concrete. He doubles over, and I slam my forehead into his nose. Blood sprays after cartilage crunches, and I use his distraction to roll, grabbing the knife from his belt, then lean over, not hesitating for a second, and slice his neck. Blood squirts over my shirt with the pulsing of his jugular, like a scene from a slasher film as he gargles and tries to stop the bleeding. But I don’t have time to waste. This guy has no hope, and I have to get Livvy the hell out of here.

Rushing to my feet while Javier shouts orders, his calm facade fracturing while chaos erupts. Two more guards rush in, weapons drawn, but Nighthawk moves like a shadow, her training evident with every precise strike.

Livvy struggles to sit up, the adrenaline surging through her body, giving her energy she truly doesn’t have right now. Her face is ashen, but determination burns in her eyes as she clutches the blade Nighthawk gave her.

“Get her out!” Nighthawk shouts at me, engaging another of Javier’s men. “I’ll cover you!”

I don’t waste time arguing. My priority is getting Livvy to safety. Rushing to Livvy, I cut her restraints and help her off the table. Her legs buckle immediately, and I catch her before she hits the floor.

“I’ve got you,” I reassure, supporting her weight against my side, though it’s easy to see from the intense bruising and severe cuts to her body she’s in real fucking trouble. “Stay with me, Liv,” I demand.

Her breathing is labored, and each inhale is a battle. “Haven… tell Alpha, Poppy…” she gasps, unable to finish.

“You’ll tell them your damn self,” I insist, half-dragging, half-carrying her toward a side exit. “Just hold on.”

A bullet whizzes past my head, embedding itself in the wall inches from us. I duck instinctively, pulling Livvy down with me behind a processing machine.

Javier stands by the main entrance, a handgun pointed in our direction, his face contorted with rage. “You think you can escape me? There’s nowhere you can hide!” He fires again, the shot going wild as Nighthawk tackles one of Javier’s remaining men into him.

“Go!” she screams at me. “Get her out. Now!”

I hesitate only for a second.

Leaving Nighthawk behind feels wrong.

But Livvy’s deteriorating condition leaves me no choice—her survival has to be my priority.

Livvy is my mission.

Using the machinery as cover, I maneuver us toward the exit, Livvy’s weight growing heavier with each step. Behind us, the sounds of combat continue—grunts, curses, the unmistakable sound of a blade cutting through flesh.

When we reach the door, I glance back, watching Nighthawk slide her arm around another guard, snapping his neck with ease. But Javier’s thunderous footsteps rampage toward her, raising his weapon.

Our eyes meet, bird-to-bird, one last time across the blood-streaked floor.

Run, she mouths, before diving toward Javier, the distinct sound of gunfire blasting through the meat packing facility.

My body jerks with each gunshot, my muscles tensing tighter each time, but I push through the door, the cool night air hitting us like a wall after the stifling interior.

I have to get Livvy out of here.

Livvy is my mission, I repeat over and over in my head.

Livvy stumbles, a weak cry escaping her lips as her wounded hand brushes against the doorframe, leaving a smear of blood.

“C’mon, Liv, just a little farther,” I urge, scanning the area. The facility’s back lot is empty except for a few derelict vehicles. Beyond the chain-link fence, I spot my truck—right where I left it.

Livvy’s breathing grows more labored, her skin clammy against mine. “Haven… I c-can’t… you h-have to l-leave me.”

“Yes, you can. Don’t talk bullshit to me. You know better than that,” I insist, practically carrying her now. “Think about Poppy. Think about Alpha. They need you to hold on.”

The mention of her daughter gives her a second wind. She grits her teeth, forcing her legs to cooperate as we make our way across the lot.

Another gunshot echoes behind us, followed by the sound of shattering glass. We both duck, but I don’t look back, focusing instead on the fence ahead. There’s the gap at the bottom where the chain link has pulled away from the ground—where I entered—just large enough to squeeze through if we hurry.

Lowering Livvy to the ground, I help her slide under first, wincing at her muffled cries of pain. Once she’s through, I follow quickly, tearing my shirt on the jagged metal but barely noticing the sting. It’s nothing compared to my shoulder or dislocated thumb.

On the other side, I half-carry, half-drag Livvy toward my truck, her body growing heavier with each step. When we finally reach it, I fumble with the door handle, my hands slick with blood—hers and mine blending together—before I manage to yank it open.

“Stay with me,” I murmur, helping her up into the passenger seat. She slumps against the door, her breathing shallow and ragged. “Livvy? Livvy, look at me!”

Her eyes flutter open, glazed with pain. “Hospital,” she whispers. “I work there. They’ll know—”

“I know, Liv. We’re going right now.” I slam her door shut, then race around to the driver’s side, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Luckily, the idiots left the keys in the ignition when they came and stole our food, so I crank it, and the engine roars to life. Tearing out of the lot, the tires squeal on the pavement in my hurry. We speed through the night, and I keep glancing at Livvy, watching her chest rise and fall with each labored breath. Her bandaged hand lies in her lap, blood seeping through the makeshift wrapping. But her head flops to the side, and panic instantly washes over me.

My hand reaches out, shoving her shoulder forcefully, probably too forcefully, but I’m in full flight mode right now. “Wake the fuck up . Talk to me, Livvy,” I snap, pressing harder on the accelerator before we fly through a yellow light. “Tell me about Poppy. Tell me about work.”

She stirs slightly, her head rolling toward me, her eyes glazing over, giving me absolutely no confidence right now. However, a small smile does find her lips. “Poppy was so small when she was born, barely five pounds.” Her voice is faint, drifting in and out like a radio losing its signal. “Alpha was terrified to hold her. Those big hands, worried he’d break her.”

I smirk despite everything, trying to keep her engaged. “But he didn’t,” I reply.

“No,” she manages with a weak smile. “She wrapped her tiny fingers around his thumb… he cried. Only time, I ever saw him cry, until…” she trails off, her eyes closing.

“Livvy?” I reach over, squeezing her shoulder. “Livvy, stay with me!”

Her eyes flutter open again. “So tired, Haven.”

“I know, but you can’t sleep. Not yet. We’re almost there.” I take a corner too fast, the tires screeching in protest. “Tell me more about work. You’re the charge nurse, right? What’s that like?”

She exhales, her eyes struggling to stay open. “Hard… rewarding.” She winces as we hit a pothole, causing her to moan.

“Fuck, sorry! Keep talking!”

Her head flops around on the seat, and I reach out, slapping her across the face. Her eyes shoot open with shock but she glances at me, letting out a small chuckle. “Keep talking?” she states.

I fight back my laugh and nod. “Keep talking, or I’ll do worse than slap you,” I warn, though my threat is empty.

A genuine smile crosses her lips as she rests back in her seat, her eyes slowly blinking like she is fighting to stay awake. “My team, they’re family too.”

Turning my head back to her, I nod. “Oh, yeah? Tell me about them.”

She groans, shaking her head, but only slightly. “I need to sleep, Haven.”

I punch her arm. Harder this time, causing her to whimper. “Don’t you pussy out on me, Livvy. You tell me all about those people you work with.”

The corner of her lips turns up, her eyelashes fluttering just slightly. “The nurses… they’ve been there for me through everything. They know all about Stone, and when the club comes into the ER, they understand I need to handle it. They have never judged me. Never looked down on me. Just supported me through every fucked-up issue.”

Letting out a sigh, I get it. I do. Even if it is strange hearing Alpha’s real name thrown into the middle of a sentence. “You’re lucky to have a team back you like that. But it wasn’t all bad with the club, I mean. Right?” I ask, genuinely curious about her answer.

Livvy’s head slowly turns, her watering eyes meeting mine as I flick my head from the road and then back to her.

“No, not at all.” She sniffles, turning back to face the front, her eyes shifting to the ceiling of the car. “I secretly loved it.” Tears fall freely down her face now, and I push harder on the accelerator. “But when we thought Poppy died, something in me changed. I took my grief out on the club when I should have been fighting beside them.” Her bottom lip trembles. “I’ve never told Alpha that.”

My heart pounds harder, softly smiling that she’s back to his Road Name. I glance at her again, seeing her face turning whiter and whiter. Her eyes flutter closed again.

I reach out, shaking her shoulder. “Grief makes us do crazy things. We all handle it differently. But you and Alpha remained amicable through it all. That’s a testament to your relationship, don’t you think?”

Livvy softly chuckles. “Yeah, maybe.” Her hand slowly slides out, reaching for mine. “But in a way, I guess it had to happen the way it did. He needs you, Haven. I might be his best friend, but you? You are the other half of his soul. Anyone can see that.”

My stomach tightens as I slide my fingers to grip with hers. “Yeah, maybe,” I mimic her words back to her. “But every man needs his best friend, too, Livvy. Especially when she’s the mother of his child.”

She closes her eyes, the brightest smile lighting her face. “God, I adore that girl. Even if she’s a clone of you.”

I snort out a laugh, shaking my head as I take another corner at Mach speed. “We’re almost at the hospital, Liv,” I tell her.

She inhales deeply, her body slumping like she’s fading. “Hey! What did I say? Sleep when you’re dead, and you ain’t dying today. Not on my watch.”

She doesn’t open her eyes, but she does smile. “Not sure that’s your choice to make, Haven.”

A cold shudder runs over my skin, and I swallow hard. “You wanna play hardball with me right now? Okay then, talk to me about the men at work. There’s got to be a hot doc you’ve been keeping to yourself, right?”

Livvy slowly chuckles beside me, her laughs turning to a cough. I turn to look at her as I round another corner, cutting straight through a red. Her hand rushes to her lips to cover her mouth, and as she pulls her hand back, blood covers her palm.

Our eyes meet—silence filters through the car.

We both know this means she is in really bad shape.

Letting out a long breath, I choose distraction. “Stop being dramatic and talk to me about McDreamy.”

Livvy relaxes into her seat, closes her eyes again, and sighs. “His name is Dr. Rhodes… Lochlan. But we all just call him Lock.”

Chuckling, I nod. “Yeah, I bet you do. Oh, Lock, yes, Lock, give it to me, Lock,” I tease, turning to face Livvy, but there’s no humor in her expression.

Her head is turned to the side, her eyes closed, her breathing barely visible now. My eyes widen as I reach over, trying to feel her pulse. It’s weak. “Jesus, fuck. Livvy,” I scream at the top of my lungs.

She jumps, her eyes wide as saucers. She looks at me, and a groan escapes her. I see it, the fear in her expression. “Haven,” she whispers.

“I know, babe. I know. We’re almost there. You just hold the fuck on. For Poppy, okay? Plus, you already have the key to Lock’s heart, so don’t go locking him out of his own happy ending,” I tease.

It works because she slowly snickers beside me, though her tears continue to fall. “Haven?” she whispers when I pull into the drive of the hospital emergency.

“Yeah, babe?” I ask, driving through the parking lot like a maniac.

Her eyes meet mine, a finality in them that makes me want to hurl. “Don’t go into comedy when I’m gone.”

Shaking my head, I scrunch up my nose. “Don’t talk that shit to me. Not now. Not ever. You hear me?” Livvy’s eyes close, her breathing barely present. “Livvy, hold on. We’re here, okay? We’re here. Your sexy doctor is going to fix you right up. Just hold on, for fuck’s sake!”

A small whimper escapes her, my anxiety almost overcoming me as I screech to a halt at the emergency entrance. Turning to face Livvy, my eyes flood with tears, seeing how fragile life really is. Swiping at my running nose, I lean over to her. “We’re here, Liv. You need to hold on a little longer. They’re going to take good care of you,” I promise, then throw the truck into park and leap out. Running toward the building as fast as my legs will carry me, I spot the hospital’s emergency sign ahead.

“Help!” I shout, racing toward the sliding doors, almost crashing into them because they don’t open fast enough. I squeeze through them and burst into the Emergency Department. My breath is so hard to catch I feel like I’m suffocating when the two nurses at the intake desk look up, recognition and horror dawning on their faces when they spot me covered in blood.

“Oh, my Lord, are you hurt? Come with us, dear, we will get you checked out right awa—” I wave my hands at them, now fighting back the tears as I struggle to get my words out.

About their friend.

About my friend.

About my family.

“It’s not me, I need help in my truck. It’s, it’s Livvy Landry.”