Page 80 of Legacy

“Look at me.” I place my hand on her cheek, and her eyes blink open.

Tears stream down her face, and I’m reminded of how Bea has her mother’s small nose and strong eyebrows. How this woman is Bea’s flesh and blood, even if she did abandon her.

“Legacy,” Sera chokes out my name. But before she can say more, her eyes roll back.

“Sera!”

“It’s the drugs.” Patch tucks the needle away. “She was fighting against the wire, and we need her to be still so we can get it off. Either way, it’s gonna be messy.”

“Then start fucking cutting.”

“It’s not that simple.” Patch rakes his dark hair off his forehead, tracing the line of the wire with his gaze. “She’s had this around her for at least a couple hours, from what I can tell. She’s been moved. It’s deep in some places, and if I’m not careful, it could slice an artery.”

My teeth clench. “What are you suggesting?”

His dark eyes snap up, and I can already tell I’m not going to like what he has to say. “We need to keep the wire in place until we get her into the clubhouse. I need a sanitary environment. Tools. At a bare minimum, light.”

I know he’s right, no matter how much I hate the idea of him keeping her like this any longer. But Patch can’twork on her in the dirt with headlights lighting a path, or she’ll definitely get infected or bleed out.

“All right.” I nod, standing because I need to get some space.

Some air.

I step back and watch as Patch and a few prospects help move Sera into the back of a van to transport her. Luckily, she’s passed out from the drugs because blood drips everywhere.

She’s thinner than the last time I saw her, and the bruising on her legs and arms tells me the wire isn’t the worst they’ve done.

When the door to the back of the van slams shut, Patch circles to me. “I’ll keep you updated.”

I nod, words catching in my throat as I watch them drive away.

Only then does it register that Ghost has been standing at my side the entire time.

“This shit never gets easier.” I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand.

I’m talking about so many things.

The club.

The death.

The destruction.

This is one message in a long list of them. The start of something I suspect will only escalate.

I glance at Ghost, and his eyes are even more vacant than mine. In many ways, he’s not standing here. His mind is in the past, and it hurts to know what he’s reliving.

“I need to go see Luna.” Ghost walks away the second Steel circles back around.

We both watch him go, and even if he was on a hell-bent mission to track down Lincoln a few minutes ago, his demons are coming out to play now. I know my brother and the pain that losing his best friend caused him. If Luna can help him get past this reminder, that’s where he needs to be right now.

“He needs a minute.”

“We all do,” Steel agrees.

I still can’t figure out how I’m holding it together. How I haven’t hopped on my bike and hunted down the fuckers who did this.

“Iron Sinners?” I ask Steel.

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