Page 90 of Emmy's Ride

I took another glance at Emmy. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken. She was lost in her own mind, and I had no idea how the hell to bring her back.

Austin

We drove for hours, taking every back road Riot directed us toward. The jungle gave way to open land, dust billowing behind our convoy as we put as much distance between ourselves and The Ghost’s men as possible.

The headlights in our rearview had disappeared, but that didn’t mean we weren’t still being hunted. The Ghost had eyes everywhere. He’d probably called the men off. Which worried me. He would only do that if he was confident enough in pursuing us later. I would be very naive to think he was through playing with us.

Our war was just starting.

What had my old man done to The Ghost?

The safehouse Riot led us to was another rundown shack. It sat on the edge of nowhere, hidden by miles of overgrown brush and crumbling stone walls. It would have to do.

As soon as we pulled in, the men moved fast, hauling Luke inside.

I followed, heart hammering at seeing my brother’s battered face under the dim light. Luke’s condition was worse than we thought. His breathing was shallow, skin gray with fever. He was slipping away.

“Get him on the table,” Jax ordered, already digging through the medical kit he’d brought.

Ribs pushing against too-tight skin. Dried blood caked in his hair. The bruises, the cuts—Jesus, he looked like he’d been tortured for weeks.

“He needs a hospital,” Jax said, voice tight. “If we don’t get him proper care, he won’t make it.”

The problem was hospitals weren’t safe here. The moment we stepped into one, The Ghost would know. And we’d all be dead before Luke made it through surgery.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “We need options.”

Riot stood near the door, shoulders tense, barely looking at his sister. Raven sat on an old couch, her knees pulled to her chest, staring at nothing. She’d been strong when it mattered, but now the effect of what she’d been through was crushing her.

“Riot,” I called, pulling him from his downward spiral.

His eye flared with hatred. “We should’ve killed that bastard.”

“We will,” I said darkly. “Right now, I need your head on straight. She needs you, not some ass bent on revenge.”

Riot let his head drop, understanding that his anger wasn’t helping his sister. “You’re right. I’m okay.”

He wasn’t okay, but none of us were.

I turned to Emmy. She stood near the table, watching Jax work on Luke, but she was distant. Disconnected.

“Emmy.”

She didn’t respond. I stepped closer. “Emmy, talk to me.”

Nothing.

“Emmy,” I pressed, this time placing a hand on her shoulder. “We need to talk.”

That snapped her out of it. She wrenched away from my touch, eyes flashing as she finally spoke.

“No, we don’t. I did what I had to do,” she hissed out. “Now let me be.”

I wasn’t going to push her further, but the silence she’d been wrapped in was just as dangerous as Riot’s anger. Before I could say anything else, Jax’s voice cut through the tension.

“Shit.”

My pulse spiked. “What?”

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