Page 30 of Savage

“’Bout time,” Wrecker muttered when he spotted me. “We figured your girl wrapped herself around you so tight you couldn’t pry her off.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” Whiskey added with a smirk.

“Didn’t ask for commentary, assholes,” I growled, grabbing my helmet.

Fox pushed off the Charger and met my gaze. “Got the layout?”

I nodded once. “Seven rooms. One of ’em used for housing the patients. Two for procedures. There’s also a lab and an office. The last ones look like storage. And they’re using the alley behind the building as a patient drop.”

“The test subjects?” Fox asked.

“Six of them inside. All sedated. Four women, two men. No IDs. No clothes. Just medical bracelets and tracking chips.”

Fox’s jaw ticked. “We take them first.” He shot a look at Racer. “Get the fuck outta my car, go grab the bag of clothesDahlia left inside by the door, then get your ass in the SUV and meet us there.”

Racer’s grin was gone, all business now. “On it,” he muttered, climbing out of the Charger and stalking back into the clubhouse.

“Secure the evidence next,” Fox continued. “Then we get the bastards.”

Maverick tossed me a small duffel. “Zip ties, hoods, and a couple of extras in case you get bored.”

Wrecker snorted. “He doesn’t get bored. He gets bloodthirsty.”

I gave him a look. “Keep talkin’. You’ll see which one I am tonight.”

The tension crackled as we mounted up, engines snarling to life like beasts stretching after a long cage. The ride out was a blur of cold wind, the growl of our hogs loud in the dark night.

It didn’t take long to reach our destination. Just a few backroads and a grim silence stretched between the thunder of engines.

We parked the bikes four blocks out—close enough to move fast but far enough to avoid attention. The old canning plant behind us was nothing but broken windows and rusted metal, forgotten by everyone but stray cats and weeds. Fine by me. I was in no mood for witnesses.

Midnight met us at the corner of the property. “Techs just left for a dinner break. Got about twenty minutes till they’re back. I’ll be in the van across the street monitoring the perimeter.”

He handed Hawk an earpiece since he was the only one on comms tonight. It left the rest of us with no distractions so we wouldn’t let down our guard and get caught unaware.

We slipped to the building like shadows. The security here was a step up from the storage facility, but Deviant was already in the system. As I approached the back door, there was a beep,then the red flashing light on the lock turned green. Still, I waited.

“All clear,” Hawk murmured a few seconds later. “Cameras inside are looped. Only Deviant can see the feeds.”

The door creaked when it opened. Even knowing the employees were gone, I hesitated, making sure we weren’t surprised by a fourth tech we’d somehow missed.

No one appeared, and I didn’t hear another sound, so I wedged the door to stay open and stepped inside.

The smell hit first. Stale air that hadn’t moved in hours. Bleach. The sharp scent of chemicals. But none of that completely masked the smell of human sickness.

Hawk and I took point while Whiskey and Maverick swept left. Fox and Hunter circled right, with Wrecker covering our backs.

It didn’t take long to find them.

We cleared nearly every room when we heard a soft moan. Then another.

The sound led us down a dim hall until we reached a locked door. Again, I waited until the red light turned green, then pushed inward. The moment the door swung open, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.

“Son of a bitch!”

I stalked in, chest rising with every breath like I couldn’t get enough air. My fists clenched at my sides.

This room was colder than the rest. Glancing around, I saw no uniforms, no proper equipment—just makeshift crap that screamed rushed setup and no accountability.

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