Page 61 of Spinner's Luck

Because this couldn’t go on—not like this. I couldn’t keep him in the dark. Not when his light had become the only thing keeping my shadows at bay.

CHAPTER THIRTY

DEVIL HAD CALLEDchurch, and I was heading that way,but my mind was still tangled in knots from last night’s talk with Lucy. I’d never opened up to anyone about my dad, but with her, it just spilled out like it had been waiting for the right moment. Somehow, she felt like a part of me, stitched into the cracks I thought would never heal.

I walked into the room and took my seat, catching the last bit of what was being said.

“...found it hangin’ on my bike,” Gearhead was saying, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Didn’t see who left it.”

“What’s goin’ on?” I asked, my gaze scanning the table.

Gearhead glanced at Devil, who gave a short nod. Without a word, he reached behind him and tossed something onto the table.

A small black leather jacket.

My stomach dropped the second I saw it.

The jacket was unmistakably for a woman, the kind of thing Lucy might wear, and stitched into the back was a fiery red dragon. On the front, her name was embroidered in bold letters.

Lucy.

“Where’d you find it?” I asked, my voice even, trying to ignore the icy twist in my gut.

“On my handlebars,” Gearhead said, his arms crossed tight against his chest. “Just hangin’ there when I came out of the garage.”

I reached out, picking it up. The leather was cool against my fingers—smooth and well-worn. The emblem on the back wasn’t just any design; it was Dragon Fire’s colors, withProperty of Fangon the rockers.

“And what the hell’s this supposed to mean?” I asked, my voice biting, though I already had a sickening feeling I knew the answer.

“Check the pocket,” Devil said, his tone calm but razor-sharp.

Reaching into the jacket, I pulled out a folded piece of paper. The handwriting was jagged, scrawled like the writer didn’t give a damn about how it looked.

You think you know her, but you don’t. She’s my property.

The words hit like a gut punch. My fist clenched around the note, crumpling it as my jaw tightened.

“Looks like Fang’s tryin’ to play games,” Chain said, his usual smirk nowhere in sight.

“It’s bullshit,” I said, tossing the note onto the table. “He’s just tryin’ to mess with us.”

“And it’s working,” Devil said, his gaze locking onto mine. “We’ve got men watching the property day and night, and he’s still managing to move around our territory. That’s a problem.”

I nodded, my thoughts racing. “He’s baitin’ us. Tryin’ to rattle us.”

“Or sendin’ a message,” Bolt said, his tone heavy. “And it’s not just for us.”

My eyes snapped to Bolt, my chest tightening. “What are you tryin’ to say?”

Bolt hesitated, exchanging a glance with Devil before meeting my gaze. His look saidsomeone has to say it.“You sure she ain’t feedin’ you bullshit ‘bout why she was in their clubhouse, Spinner?”

The words smacked me like a backhand. My blood lit up, boiling hot. “You fuckin’ serious right now?” I snapped, fingers twitching for my spinner, needing something to keep me from blowing a fuse.

“We’re just covering our asses,” Devil said, voice cool as ice. “Fang’s not dumb. If dragging her name through the dirt splits us, he’ll pull that shit. We gotta be damn sure this isn’t some setup.”

“She wasn’t nothin’ to Fang,” I shot back, my tone like steel on steel.

Thunder leaned forward, eyes hard enough to cut glass. “And you’re ready to stake the club on that?”

---