Page 35 of Edge
Axle, Fury, and Drift stepped out. The door eased shut with a click that sounded intimate, like a bedroom latch. The room shrank to just me and a man who hadn’t yet understood what it meant that I loved someone. Most people probably assumed I was incapable. Honestly, before I met Callie, I would have agreed.
But it wasn’t that I couldn’t. It was that when I loved, it was with an obsession and madness that made me more dangerous than anyone could’ve imagined.
I pulled the duct tape, tore a strip with my teeth, and smoothed it over his mouth.
“Noise control,” I told him lightly, my tone one that would be used by an instructor to his student.
The penlight clicked, and I checked his pupils like a medic would. Not for his safety. For my timing. His pulse rattled under my thumb at his throat, and I counted it out like beats on a metronome. Calm edged down my spine, the kind that turned a man into a tool.
“Here’s the difference between you and me,” I told him conversationally while I zip-tied his ankles to the chair legs thathad held my girl. “You think pain is theater. I think it’s art. And I’ve always been a talented artist.”
His breath fogged the tape as he tried to talk through it. I ignored him.
Outside, somewhere in the corridors, a body hit the floor one last time. My brothers were wrapping things in canvas and string and leaving them behind us. I bowed over my work.
I didn’t raise my voice. Didn’t get creative. I did what I always did when a machine failed: I found the problem, identified the bolts, and loosened them. Carefully, sequentially—until something essential inside gave way, and the whole structure had to admit what it had done.
Rye learned very quickly how long five minutes could be.
And I learned that when it came to my woman, I could go darker than even I thought.
14
CALLIE
Isat on the edge of the exam table in the clinic at the Redline Kings compound, trying to hold still while Cage worked. His hands were steady, his movements precise as he cleaned the scrapes left behind by the ropes that had bound me to the chair.
“You’ll be sore.” His no-nonsense doctor tone didn’t allow for argument. “But there’s no permanent damage. Only surface abrasions.”
I nodded, my throat tight, even though he hadn’t asked me a question. I’d never liked going to the doctor. They meant annual checkups, awkward questions, maybe the occasional twisted ankle from jogging. Not…this. Bruises from being dragged into a van or rope burns carved into my skin. The antiseptic sting felt like it was eating at my sense of normal.
But as foreign and frightening as this all was, I didn’t regret the choices that had landed me here. If falling for Tatum meant I’d been pulled into his dangerous world, then I’d choose it every time. Because he was worth it. Even when I was tied up, terrified, and bleeding, the only thing that had kept me steady was the thought of him.
Savannah squeezed my hand, offering her silent support. When we arrived at the clubhouse, she and Cage had been waiting, and she refused to leave my side while he treated me. I tried to flash her a small smile to reassure her, but my lips stung when they curved. They were swollen and split from being hit. My head throbbed, too. But the pain wasn’t too bad. Waiting for Tatum to come back was worse.
I knew everything was under control when he had his club brothers take me away, but I still wanted to see him with my own eyes. Just to know for myself that he was okay.
Cage applied antiseptic, then fresh bandages, before moving to the cut on my lip. His touch was brisk and impersonal, but I caught the shadow of concern in his eyes when I flinched.
“Anything worse than this?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Just bruises.”
“Good. That I can work with.” He cleaned and dressed the cut with quiet efficiency before stepping back. “You’ll be tender for a few days, but you’re solid.”
“I…um…” My gaze darted to Savannah, and I held her eyes as I confessed, “I might be pregnant.”
“Fuck, I shoulda thought to test you right off the bat,” Cage muttered, shaking his head. “You’d think after three babies, I’d be used to this shit.”
“This shit?” Savannah echoed, arching her brow over narrowed eyes.
“Shit, as in testing for pregnancy…something I never had to worry about until my brothers started dropping like flies,” Cage explained with a shrug. “I keep kits in stock if you want to take a urine test. Or I can do a blood draw, which is more accurate and can detect hCG sooner. But the results will take a few hours. Would need to send a prospect to the lab with the sample.”
I considered my options before deciding, “Do the blood test please. I want Tatum to be here for the results, in case it’s positive.”
“Good call.” Cage patted me on the hand, then got what he needed for the blood draw.
“Definitely,” Savannah agreed.
