Page 84 of Spinner's Luck

My pulse spiked. The motel. The fucking docks. She was too close.

Oliver wasn’t done.

“I tried talking sense into her. Told her to call you, to get backup.” He hesitated, gaze dropping again, like saying it out loud made it worse.

I already knew I wouldn’t like what came next.

“She said she doesn’t want your help,” Oliver admitted, meeting my gaze with something between pity and fear. “She said... when you lose Lucy’s trust, you’re dead to her.”

The words cut deep.

I knew she was pissed. Hell, she’d warned me. But hearing confirmation? It drove the knife in and twisted.

My fists clenched at my sides. The room suddenly felt too fucking small.

“Well, too fuckin’ bad,” I snarled. “She doesn’t get to make that call.”

“Spinner,” Devil warned.

I turned to him, barely keeping my temper from snapping. “What? We’re just supposed to sit here while Fang closes in? She’s trapped, Devil.”

“And if this is a setup?” Chain asked, his fingers tapping on the desk. “What if Fang’s baitin’ us, waitin’ for us to walk into his trap?”

I stopped pacing, teeth grinding together. He wasn’t wrong. None of them were. But that didn’t mean I could sit on my hands.

Devil stood, sweeping his gaze over the room before landing on Oliver.

“You’re coming with us,” he said, his voice final, unshakable. “You’re taking us to that motel, and you’re gonna tell us everything you know about Dragon Fire’s movements. Every detail.”

Oliver blinked, like he wanted to argue. One look from Devil shut that shit down.

“Mystic, Chain,” Devil continued, “start planning the routes. I want every exit covered. Spinner...” He turned to me, eyes hard. “I get that this is personal. But I need you focused. This isn’t just about Dragon Fire anymore. With the cartel involved, we need to go in, get her out, and avoid confrontation if we can.”

I swallowed hard, forcing down the emotions threatening to rip me apart. “I’m good.”

Devil didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide. “We roll out in thirty. Be ready.”

The others started moving, but I stood frozen, anger boiling beneath my skin.

Lucy didn’t want me coming for her.

Didn’t want my help.

Too fuckin’ bad.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

I CROUCHED LOWbehind a stack of shipping containers,my eyes fixed on the Dragon Fire assholes gathered near a black van. The murmur of their voices mixed with the distant lapping of water against the pier, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

I adjusted my position, the cold steel of my knife pressing against my hip. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I pulled out my phone, snapping a quick picture of the scene. Fang wasn’t there—yet—but I recognized a few of the men from the garage.

They were loading crates into the back of the van, their movements hurried, like they knew someone was watching.

I was that someone.

I shifted again, my shoes whispering against the rough cement as I tried to stay hidden, when the hair on the back of my neck stood up. A faint noise, barely audible, caught my attention.

Footsteps.

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