Page 104 of Spinner's Luck

Then I turned and left, the door clicking shut behind me.

Outside, the morning air was cool against my skin, carrying the scent of damp earth and some flowery scent I couldn’t place. I moved quickly, keeping to the shadows, slipping past the quiet clubhouse toward the edge of the property.

I’d hidden my bag out back, tucked beneath a pile of scrap metal, and it was still there, exactly where I’d left it.

As I slung it over my shoulder, the guilt twisted inside me like a knife.

I wasn’t just leaving Spinner. I was leaving Zeynep, Brenda, the whole club. Even pissed at some of them, they had become part of me.

But it was the only way.

If I stayed, more people would die.

I’d lead Fang and Drago away, feed them the lie that Zeynep was with me, and keep running until I couldn’t anymore.

One last glance at the clubhouse.

Then I turned and slipped into the trees, the first rays of sunlight breaking through the branches above me.

This was the right thing to do.

At least, that’s what I told myself as I disappeared into the morning light.

CHAPTER FIFTY

THE FIRST THINGI noticed when I woke up was the cold.

The space beside me in the bed was empty, the sheets cool to the touch.

For a moment, I thought maybe she’d just stepped out, maybe she was in the bathroom or grabbing coffee.

But then I saw it, the little things that didn’t sit right.

Her shoes were gone. The jacket she’d left hanging over the chair last night wasn’t there.

And my chest tightened.

“Lucy?” I called, my voice rough from sleep.

Silence.

The knot in my gut twisted hard as I sat up, scanning the room. My phone sat untouched on the nightstand.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, yanking on my jeans and T-shirt. The floor creaked under my weight as I stalked to the door, stepping into the hallway. I went down the hall and peeked in her room—no Lucy—fuck.

The clubhouse was too quiet.

The kind of quiet that didn’t feel right.

I headed straight for Zeynep’s room, half-hoping I’d find her there. Maybe she’d gone to check on her.

I knocked, pushing the door open a crack.

Zeynep sat cross-legged on the bed, a book in her lap. She looked up, her eyes widening.

“Spinner?” she asked, her voice still raspy from her injury.

“Where’s Lucy?” I fought to keep my expression calm.

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