Page 6

HAVEN

Both of them stall, glued to the spot, staring at me seemingly in astonishment.

“Livvy?” one of them repeats.

“Yes!” I grunt in frustration. “In my truck. She’s hurt bad. She’s been tortured. Missing a finger, multiple lacerations, blood loss—”

They don’t wait for me to finish as the one behind the counter calls something over the PA system. Suddenly, more staff appear from nowhere, rushing past me, out the doors toward my truck with a gurney.

In a daze, I follow them back outside, standing out of the way and watching as they gently extract Livvy from the passenger seat.

“Oh my God, Livvy,” one nurse murmurs, her professional demeanor cracking for just a moment.

“BP’s dropping,” another calls out, already attaching a portable monitor. “We need to move. Now !”

They lift her onto the gurney, a flurry of activity as they secure IV lines and assess her injuries. I stand frozen, suddenly useless as her colleagues, her friends, take over.

“Trauma one,” someone shouts as they rush her inside.

I move to follow, but a hand on my arm stops me. I turn to find a nurse I don’t recognize—her eyes are gentle but assessing.

“Are you hurt too?” she asks, scanning me for injuries, her eyes stopping on my shoulder where there is an obvious wound.

I shake my head, suddenly aware of how I must look—covered in blood, clothes torn, face bruised. “It’s not my blood. Not most of it, anyway. But I need to be with her.”

“The trauma team needs space to work,” she explains kindly. “Let me take you to the waiting area. I’ll bring you updates as soon as we have them, and I’ll get someone to come by to make sure that your injuries are attended to.”

I want to argue, to push past her and stay with Livvy, but the fight suddenly drains out of me. Adrenaline gives way to bone-deep exhaustion. She gently smiles at me, clearly seeing my fight wean. She reaches for my arm. “This way,” she offers, guiding me through the corridor to a small waiting room. “Can I get you anything? Water? A clean shirt?”

“A phone,” I manage, lowering myself into a chair as my knees feel like they’re about to give out under my weight. “I need to call her family.”

She nods, disappearing briefly, my hands shaking, my knee bobbing in the chair as I gaze aimlessly into nothing before she returns with a cordless phone and a scrub top. “For the blood,” she explains, setting them beside me. “I’ll check on Livvy for you.”

As she leaves, I stare at the phone, dreading the call I need to make. My hands tremble as I punch in Alpha’s number, the one I’ve memorized since my first day with the club. It rings once, twice, before his voice erupts through the speaker, tense and dangerous.

“Who the fuck is this?”

“A-Alpha, it’s m-me,” I reply, my voice breaking. “I’m with Livvy. We’re at her hospital.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence before he responds, his voice raw with emotion. “Haven? Jesus Christ, we’ve been looking everywhere for you. What the hell happened? Are you okay?”

“We’re in the Emergency Department. Alpha, it’s bad. They, they hurt her. Tortured her.” My voice falters. “It was Javier Rojas. Rico’s nephew. He is, goddammit! He’s rebuilding the Cartel.”

The silence on the other end chills me to the bone, followed by the sound of something shattering—glass breaking against a wall, I can only imagine.

“We killed the Cartel, Haven. We wiped it off the map. What the fuck do you mean some nephew of Rico is rebuilding?”

“Javier said Rico had planned this contingency. He basically put in this safety measure in the event of his death. Us wiping out the Cartel activated it. And that contingency is Javier taking over. Alpha, Javier is unhinged. He doesn’t care about boundaries or respecting the code. He’s out to take what he wants, to seek vengeance for his uncle. He wants to send a very clear message.”

Alpha snorts a mocking laugh. “Oh, I got his message, all right.” Alpha’s voice is barely controlled by his fury. “Hours ago. Livvy’s finger—”

“So, Javier did send it to the clubhouse?” My stomach drops.

“In a fucking chicken box,” he snarls. “We’ve been tearing the city apart, looking for you both. Loki’s been trying to trace your phone, the trucks, anything—”

“I’m sorry,” I cut in, guilt washing over me. “They ambushed me. My phone’s gone. I only got away because…” I pause, thinking of Nighthawk. “Someone helped us escape.”

“I’m coming,” Alpha snaps, his voice shifting to something harder, more controlled. “The whole club is. Poppy’s with me. We’ll be there in twenty minutes. Haven, is she—” He stops, unable to finish the question.

I close my eyes, seeing Livvy’s pale face, hearing her labored breathing.

Seeing the blood on her palm after coughing.

“Just hurry,” is all I can manage before ending the call.

Letting out a long breath, I lean forward, placing my elbows on my knees and resting my head in my hands.

How the fuck did this happen?

How in the hell did I not know Nighthawk was still active?

Shaking my head, I sit back in the seat, feeling like, somehow, this is all my fault.

I glance at the seat beside me, where the clean scrub shirt is neatly placed, but I can’t summon the energy to change. Instead, I lean back, staring at the ceiling tiles, counting them to keep from falling apart.

Twenty-four.

Twenty-five.

Twenty-six.

A few minutes later, the same lovely nurse returns, her expression carefully neutral. “They’ve taken Livvy into surgery. Her injuries are extensive, but our best trauma team is working on her.”

Sitting taller, I gnaw on my bottom lip. “Will she make it?” I ask bluntly.

She hesitates—which tells me everything. “They’re doing everything possible.”

I nod mechanically, too exhausted to press for false reassurances. “Her family’s coming. Her ex-husband and daughter.”

“I’ll watch for them,” she promises. “Try to rest if you can. I’ll bring you an update as soon as there’s news.”

Rest?

As if I could close my eyes without seeing Livvy strapped to that table, hearing her screams as Nighthawk followed orders to maintain her cover and sliced off Livvy’s finger.

Sitting back, my hand taps my knee with nervous tension. My entire body feels like it is rattling from the inside out.

And all I can do is wait.

Wait for news on Livvy.

Wait for Alpha and the club to arrive.

Wait to see if Livvy pulls through.

Wait to see if I can forgive myself for not being able to help her sooner.

Time loses meaning as I sit here, my body a strange combination of numb and hyperaware. Every footstep in the hallway makes me tense. Every voice has me looking up, expecting either news of Livvy or the arrival of the club.

It’s the latter that comes first.

The waiting room door bursts open, and Alpha fills the frame, his massive presence seeming to suck all the air from the room. And I’m not sure if it is because I’m so fucking relieved he’s finally here, or if it is because I am so damn concerned about how he’s going to react when he hears about what went down and the people involved in the treatment of his ex-wife.

Behind him, I catch glimpses of club cuts. South, Loki, Maverick, Phoenix, Montana, and the rest—a sea of leather backing their president.

But it’s Alpha’s face that stops my heart.

I’ve seen him angry, seen him in battle mode, seen him devastated when he told me the story of when he thought Poppy was dead years ago.

This is something else entirely—grief, rage, and fear distilled into something almost inhuman.

His eyes find mine, and for a heartbeat, neither of us move.

All the love and adoration I feel for this man hits me like a fucking freight train, slamming into me so fucking hard I can’t breathe.

I can’t speak.

I literally can’t move.

All I can do is stare at him in my frozen state when suddenly, Poppy steps into view from behind him, her face tear-streaked but composed. And I don’t know why, but something about seeing her, about seeing the young girl I trained at The Nest to be strong, to fight back, and to never show her emotions is losing that fight right now, completely breaks my walls.

We’re both free of The Nest. We have been for a while, but I’ve maintained my no-emotion facade.

But right now, I simply can’t.

And I break.

Completely and utterly.

“I’m s-so s-sorry,” I whisper, rising on shaky legs. “I t-tried—” I can’t finish my sentence before my legs give out.

I feel myself falling.

My head is swirling with emotions I’ve blocked for so many years that are now rampaging through me so intensely. Alpha crosses the room in three long strides and catches me before I hit the floor, pulling me tightly against his chest. His arms wrap around me with desperate strength, his breath ragged against my hair. His body trembling—the invincible club president, the man everyone fears, shaking with emotion he can barely contain.

“It’s okay, Little Lamb. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with concern.

I cling to him, drawing strength from his solid presence, my watering eyes meeting his, regret flowing through me with brutal intensity. “I should have rallied the club when I got the call. I was too cocky. I thought I could handle it. Livvy was already there when I arrived. It was a goddamn trap. I should have known better. I do know fucking better! I was on a high from the win with the Governor, and now? Oh God, Alpha,” I whimper.

Alpha pulls back, cupping my face in his hands. His eyes are red-rimmed, haunted. “You got her out. That’s what matters.” He studies my face, taking in every detail like he’s memorizing it all over again. “How badly are you hurt?” His eyes shift to the obvious injury on my shoulder.

“Nothing serious,” I shake my head, but even that movement makes my body ache.

Poppy steps out from behind her father, her resemblance to Livvy striking even through her fear. “Haven?” She throws her arms around me, sending another jolt through my muscles, but I hold onto her as tight as possible. This girl—she became my family through the strangest of circumstances. “Where’s my mama? Is she gonna be okay?”

My stomach falls through the floor as I exchange a glance with Alpha, neither of us wanting to be the one to shatter her world further. “She’s in surgery,” I reply carefully. “The doctors are doing everything they can.”

“But she’ll make it. Right?” Poppy pulls back, searching my face desperately for an answer I simply cannot give her.

Before I can form a response that won’t crush her or give false hope, the door opens again. A young, roguishly handsome doctor in surgical scrubs enters, his mask pulled down to reveal a grim expression. Blood stains the front of his gown— Livvy’s blood.

“Family of Olivia Landry?” he calls, eyes scanning the room full of bikers before settling on Alpha, a look of recognition and what can only be described as anguish.

“Stone,” he states, placing out his hand to shake. “I wish we were meeting again under better circumstances.”

Alpha straightens, keeping one arm around me while reaching for Poppy with the other. “Dr. Rhodes. How is she?”

Jerking my head back, I glance Dr. Rhodes up and down. “Lochlan Rhodes?” I ask as he approaches, his eyes flickering briefly over my blood-stained clothes before nodding just once. “Yes, that’s me.” He clears his throat, pointing to my shoulder. “Have you been seen to, Miss—”

“I don’t matter right now. I’ll be fine. But I want you to know that Livvy is one of the best people I have ever known. I think you know that, too, right, Lock?”

Alpha glances at me, raising his brow in clear confusion, but Dr. Rhodes weakly smiles. “I do know that. And for the record, every life matters, including yours. So, if you need medical attention, please let us help you.”

I exhale, slumping my shoulders. “I will. But please, Lock, I know how Livvy felt about this place, about the people in it, about you.” His nostrils flare, his eyes clenching like that hit him straight in the chest, so I continue, “You have to help her.”

Lock sniffs, his eyes meeting mine like he’s struggling to keep his shit together in front of the entire club, before shifting his attention back to Alpha. “Can we speak privately?”

I finally risk looking at Alpha, his face stern. Definitely concerned, but there’s no malice held toward Lock for obviously having a relationship with Livvy. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of my family,” Alpha replies, his grip tightening on both me and Poppy.

Oh God, why do I feel like this isn’t going to be good news?