Page 12 of Spinner's Luck

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” Mystic growled, his hand slamming against the table.

“Let her finish,” Devil warned, his tone cold enough to slice through Mystic’s rising temper.

“Not by choice,” Lucy clarified quickly. “I’m not going to tell all of Zeynep’s story—that’s hers to tell, not mine. But I will tell you this—she was brought to the United States at sixteen and knew a woman from one of your chapters named Aislynn. That’s how I found her here. She’s been talking about escaping and coming here ever since she overheard Drago talking about Aislynn.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the room. Every man seated around the table understood exactly what Zeynep’s situation had been, Aislynn’s story was burned into all of our memories. Mystic looked ready to lose it, his fists clenching at his sides. Devil gave him a warning glare that held him in check.

“Is that why Drago beat her?” Devil asked, his tone cold and direct. “Because she tried to escape?”

Lucy sighed, shaking her head. “That’s just it, I don’t think so. Drago was obsessed with Zeynep. He would never lay a hand on her. He valued her beauty too much.”

“He was good to her? Loved her?” Mystic asked, not hiding his irritation.

Lucy let out a humorless laugh. “Drago thinks he loves her in his own twisted mind. Trust me, he had very strict rules for her, and if she broke them, she was punished.”

“Wait,” Chain cut in, his brows furrowing. “You just said he didn’t hit her.”

“He didn’t,” Lucy said, her anger flashing for the first time. “Not physically. He was more sadistic in his methods. He’d punish someone else while she watched. It gutted her every time, so she tried her best to follow his rules.”

Sadness flickered in her eyes as she spoke about Zeynep’s punishments, but Lucy shoved it aside almost immediately. She didn’t like showing weakness, that much was clear the longer I listened to her.

“But his men did this to her,” Mystic growled, slamming his hand down again. The table shook under the force.

“They had to know Drago would kill them if they returned her like that,” Lucy said, her fingers tapping restlessly on the table. “I’m guessing they planned to blame it on your club.”

“Drago will want her back?” Devil asked.

“Oh yeah,” Lucy replied without hesitation. “Obsessed might not even be strong enough to describe it.”

“How deep were you involved with Dragon Fire?” Devil pressed.

“If you’re asking if I know any of their secrets that pertain to you, the answer is no,” she said firmly. “If you’re asking if I can help with locations, basic intel, and numbers, the answer is yes.”

“Whatever intel you’ve got, we want it,” Devil said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “How do we know we can trust you? And how can you trust us?”

“My whole life is about taking down scum like Dragon Fire,” Lucy said, her voice hard and unwavering. “I wouldn’t waste my spit on their dead bodies. As for trusting your club, I’ve done my homework. You’re clean where it counts, at least for what I’m concerned about.”

“That’s it for now,” Devil said, satisfied for the moment. “Jacob’s at the door. He’ll take you to the common room while we finish business.”

We all watched Lucy leave, and when the door shut behind her, I pulled out my spinner, working the toy with quick, nervous fingers. The more Lucy talked, the more questions I had for her.

“She sounds like a fuckin’ fed,” Chain muttered, leaning forward.

“She’s not a damn cop,” I shot back, feeling the need to defend Lucy.

“What’d you find in her car?” Devil asked Bolt.

“Nothin’ unusual,” Bolt replied. “Old laptop, a duffel bag with clothes, her pocketbook, just the basics. Some money, her driver’s license, social security card. I took pictures and sent ’em to Gatsby.”

“That’s it? Nothing personal?” Devil pressed.

“Just some old articles about a kidnappin’ years ago,” Bolt replied with a shrug. “I didn’t read ’em that closely.”

“Gatsby, I want her full history on my desk tonight,” Devil ordered. “Send it to Kickstand too—tell him it’s time-sensitive. And go through that laptop.”

“On it,” Gatsby said, scribbling furiously in his notebook. The guy was like a damn relic from another century with that thing, but he never missed a detail. “I’ll dig into those articles, see what shakes loose. Can’t leave a stone unturned, it could be useful.”

“Spinner,” Devil said, locking eyes with me, “you grill her for information. She trusts you, so use it. Find out what she knows about Dragon Fire and get back to me.”

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