“Thanks,” LJ said, his voice a smidge stronger. “They weren’t after the money.” He closed his puffy eye and shook his head. “Mav.” His voice choked up and Zach wouldn’t have believed it was possible, but LJ sounded near tears.
Copper frowned. “What about Mav?”
“I’m sorry. I fought like hell, but there were four of them. And they had crowbars. I didn’t stand a chance.” He sounded tortured, riddled with guilt and a tear leaked out the corner of one distended eye.
“What about Mav?” Copper asked, steel in his tone this time.
“They took him.”
Ice slid through Zach’s veins as the horror of that statement registered. “Mav was with you?” He was supposed to be on a job, installing a system of security cameras for an eccentric millionaire who owned a house high in the mountains where cell reception was hard to come by. It was the only reason Zach hadn’t tried to contact him.
“What the fuck do you mean they took him?” Copper growled.
“He got done early. Saw me riding and tagged along. Dragons—oh fuck.” He inhaled a sharp breath and cringed. “Sorry. Five fuckin’ cracked ribs.” After a cough and another grimace, he continued. “Three of them grabbed Mav. Tossed him in a van. Other four teamed up on me.”
“You sure it was the Gray Dragons?”
He nodded and his “yes” was full of agony. “Stupid fucking red tattoo on their hands.”
“You had anything for pain?” Copper asked.
“Nah,” LJ said. “Wanted to talk to you first.”
“You did good, LJ.” Copper pushed the nurse button on the side of LJ’s bed. “We’ll have them bring you something.” When Copper raised his head, his gaze bore into Zach’s.
Zach imagined the murderous fury in Copper’s eyes matched his own. “Go,” Copper said. “Take Rocket. I want you at the clubhouse at eight tonight.”
Zach nodded and placed a hand on LJ’s shoulder before making for the door. Rocket was ending a phone call he’d made as soon as LJ mentioned the Dragons. “Let’s go,” Zach said.
The two men marched down the hall on a deadly mission. “What do we know about where they might take him?”
“Nothing,” Rocket said in his typical limited chatter.
“Shit. You’ve had eyes on their headquarters, haven’t you?”
Rocket nodded.
“What have you been seeing?” In times like this, talking to Rocket could frustrate a man to violence.
“Nothin’. Ain’t been around much.” Rocket shook his head.
Shit. Mav had mentioned the same thing yesterday. That something wonky was going on with the Dragons. They’d all but abandoned their headquarters. No one coming or going for days.
What the hell was going on?
The club messed up. Hell, Zach messed up. It was his job to protect his club from outside threats. They’d gotten complacent, left the Gray Dragons alone without any fear of the Handlers. In his defense, there had never been any indication, until recently, that the Dragons might be looking to up their game.
Christ, he’d sent LJ to make the pickup in his place so he could go flirt with Toni at the diner. Fuck! Where the hell were his priorities? Pussy was pussy and while fun, should never be a priority over his brothers. Look what happened when he took his eye off the game. One of his brothers was beaten unconscious and another kidnapped.
He needed to stay away from Toni. She was fucking with his head and his concentration.
The club’s mistake had been not flexing their muscles when Shark took over the gang a year ago. Rumors had been circulating about the man for ages. Sick shit he did to his girls. Even sicker shit he did to guys looking to leave the gang. Still, they hadn’t seen him for the predator he was turning out to be.
Big fucking mistake.
Because apparently, he was a shark in more than just name.
And now Mav was his prisoner.
“Shit!” Zach yelled when he reached the bikes. “Fuck!” He slammed his fists down on the trunk of a car parked next to him. Pain shot up his forearms and he welcomed the sharp jolt. Again and again, he pounded them into the denting metal. The shrill piercing of a car alarm blared through the quiet parking lot.
“Zach!” Rocket’s voice didn’t pull him from his rage. “Knock it the fuck off, brother.” A muscled arm banded across his chest and yanked him away from his punching bag. “You ain’t gonna be able to do shit for Mav if you’re locked up for the night.”
Hearing the long string of words from his typically silent friend was enough to snap Zach out of it and made him see past the rage clouding his vision. Rocket kept an arm around him and dragged Zach back ten feet.
Zach held out his hands. “I’m cool,” he said. “I’m cool.” He’d fake it, anyway, because inside he was anything but.
With a jerky nod, Rocket released him. “How do you want to play this?”