Page 88 of Rampage

I pad barefoot to the door, opening it just enough to hear more clearly.

"…confirmed it was Peterson's men." Lane's voice carries up the stairs. "They've talked. Hospital board's been covering for him for years."

"Sexual harassment, assault, even a rape allegation that was buried five years ago," Mason adds, his voice tight with fury. "Girl transferred to another hospital, whole thing disappeared."

"And now he's escalated to attempted kidnapping," Christopher adds. "Sending armed men after Lily."

This is insane, all of those poor women. My heart aches that they had the courage to come forward and it was thrown out or, worse, they were punished for it.

"Make them pay." My voice is filled with rage and I look at Reid, along with the others standing by him. "Without an ounce of mercy."

Reid smirks, the darkness written all over his face. "Count on it."

fourteen

Lily

Little by little the clubhouse is filled with the members from another MC that is allies with the Grim Sinners because Meadow is their princess.

I got to meet a ton of amazing people and right now us women from the club are here, lying on the many couches in the main part of the building, while the men have all gone after Peterson.

No one wanted to be left behind, so the men drew sticks and Reid came up the loser. He is in the corner of the room, standing guard in case someone comes to try to mess with us while the men are gone.

I know it’s hard for him, but I can’t help but be a little relieved by the fact that he is here.

I hate the waiting.

Reid’s brothers, Alex and Jacob, are going along with the rest of the men, and Aubree is fast asleep in one of the rooms upstairs. I’m thankful she is glued to her tablet and has no idea what’s going on.

I also got to meet Cole and Harlan, who are Mason’s brothers, and Livie who is his younger sister.

Leah has stayed close to my side, and I’m thankful because these women are all so beautiful, it's intimidating.

Meadow gets a phone call and she puts it on speakerphone. It’s a male voice that I recognize as her brother Caiden.

“We found where Peterson has been hiding, but we found a secret room and a dozen women. I can’t fucking say the shit we just saw, but they won’t go to the hospital.” He talks so fast that I can barely understand him.

Holy shit. The words repeat over and over in my head.

Meadow gets off the phone and she snaps into action with Reid helping her set up a medical station for all of the women.

I walk over to her. "I’m not medically trained but I'm a good hand-holder. But from what it seems, these girls have been treated poorly and need a good hot meal."

Reid kisses my forehead. "That's a perfect idea, sweetheart."

I slip away from his embrace and hurry to the clubhouse kitchen, a space I've only glimpsed before. It's surprisingly well-equipped—industrial-sized stove, massive refrigerator, pantry stocked with essentials. My hands tremble slightly as I pull ingredients from shelves and drawers, imagining what horrors these women have endured.

The rhythmic chopping of vegetables gives my racing mind something to focus on. Onions, carrots, celery, the holy trinity of comfort food. I've made this soup countless times at the diner, the recipe so familiar I could prepare it blindfolded. As I work, images of Peterson's "secret room" flash through my mind, each scenario more horrifying than the last.

"Need help?" Leah asks, appearing at my elbow.

I smile gratefully, handing her a knife and a pile of carrots. "These need to be diced."

Together we work in efficient silence, the kitchen filling with the soothing aroma of simmering broth. I add noodles, watching them soften and expand in the fragrant liquid. My stomach knots with anxiety over what's happening at Peterson's house, what the men are discovering, what they might do in retaliation.

"They're bringing the women here now," Leah says, checking her phone. "ETA, ten minutes."

I nod, ladling soup into bowls, arranging them on trays with soft bread and water. My hands won't stop shaking. These women have endured unimaginable abuse, and here I am offering them soup, as if chicken noodle could heal such deep wounds.

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