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Silence ensued for a precious second. Fuck. I didn't have time for this. No time to explain, to argue, only to get to her.

But running in blind would have gotten her killed.

"The Collector is behind this," I explained with a patience I didn't feel. "And he knows 'we've been playing him."

The words sat wrong in my chest. Because I could have ended it right there. One order. Alessio would've walked in, put a bullet in every breathing bastard in that clubhouse, and walked out with her.

Easy.

If it had only been Razor… I wouldn't have been on that call. I would've already had her. I dragged another breath in, forcing the rage down before it turned reckless. My grip tightened on the phone. Every instinct I had was screaming to tell him to go in. To take her. To burn the whole place down for even touching her.

But I didn't. Because I didn't trust anyone with her life.

Not my men.

Not even Alessio.

That left only one option.

Me.

"Hold your position."

My eyes locked on the road ahead as I reached for the door. "With you there… my chances of getting her out alive just went up."

"You were late," I accuse him now.

"Two or three of the bikers were harder to take down," he shrugs like it's no big deal.

I don't want to argue with him any further, not while Audra is bleeding out in my arms. I hold her tighter and keep moving until we're out on the street where Alessio's SUV is waiting, engine running with a driver waiting. I slide into the back seat with Audra still clutched to me, refusing to let her go even for a second. Before Alessio can join us, I stop him. "Flea took off. Find him. He knows a whole lot more about the Collector."

Alessio nods. "I have a few questions for the bastard."

I nod. "Keep him warm. I do as well."

"You got it, brother."

He's about to turn, but I call him back. "And Alessio?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful, remember, the Collector knows what we've been up to."

A broad grin spreads across his face. "Oh, I have a few questions for him too." He looks at Audra. "Take good care of her."

"You know it."

While the driver floors it, I call ahead. "Doc, we're coming in hot. Female, mid-twenties, severe blood loss from multiple lacerations, wrists, ankles, deep forearm gash. Possible shock. ETA five minutes. Be ready."

I press my forehead to hers, my voice breaking as I whisper against her skin, "Hang in there, baby. Hang in there. You don't get to die on me like this. Not after you finally told me you love me. Not after you came back to me. I need you, Audra. I fucking need you more than air. Stay with me. Please, sweetheart… stay with me."

Her breathing is too shallow. Her skin is too cold against mine. I can feel her slipping, and the terror of it is worse than any bullet, any betrayal, any loss I've ever known. I rock her gently, tears burning in my eyes.

"You're my whole world," I choke out. "My fire. My reason. Don't you dare leave me. I love you. I love you so goddamn much it hurts. Fight for me, baby. Fight."

The city blurs past the windows in streaks of neon and darkness, but all I see is her face, the woman who smirked at danger in a police station, who burned my kitchen to defy me, who screamed she loved me while begging me to save myself. If she dies tonight…

There won't be anything left of me to save. There will only be a trail of blood while I get the Collector. The SUV screeches around a corner, and I press another desperate kiss to her forehead, whispering the only words that matter anymore. "Stay with me, Audra. Please… stay with me."