No. She wasn’t going to let this happen. Summoning every ounce of strength she had left, she turned her head and bit down on his palm as hard as she could.
Jesse roared in pain, jerking his hand away. She took her chance, her fingers clawing at the pavement as she tried to scramble backward, but she barely made it a few inches before he struck.
The slap came fast and hard, snapping her head to the side. White-hot pain exploded across her face. She gasped, the world spinning, and in that moment of disorientation, Jesse’s fist slammed into her stomach. Air rushed from her lungs in a choked gasp.
Her body folded inward as agony speared through her ribs. She heard her own breath hitch, a strangled sound that barely reached her ears over the ringing in her skull. Dawn tried to move, tried to fight back, but her body wouldn’t listen. Her limbs felt sluggish, her vision blurring at the edges.
Then—darkness. The world tilted, and she felt herself being lifted, her body limp in Jesse’s grasp. She tried to hold on, tried to stay conscious, but the blackness swallowed her whole. And she saw and heard nothing else.
****
The vibration of Gunner’sphone against his hip sent a jolt of unease through him. He didn’t recognize the number, but something in his gut told him to answer. He swiped the screen and brought the phone to his ear.
A slow, mocking chuckle greeted him. “Miss me, asshole?”
Gunner’s entire body went rigid. Jesse.
His knuckles went white as he gripped the phone tighter. The clubhouse noise faded into the background, his focus narrowing to the sick bastard on the other end of the line.
“Where is she?” Gunner’s voice was low, deadly.
Jesse hummed like he was thinking it over, like he wasn’t keeping the one person Gunner cared about more than anything in the world hostage. “She’s right here with me. Poor thing put up a fight, but you know how women are—so damn fragile. You should’ve seen the way she...”
Gunner moved before he even realized it, shoving back from the table and knocking over his chair. The clubhouse fell silent as every Iron Sentinel turned to look at him.
Jesse laughed again, slow and taunting. “Bet you’re real fucking pissed, huh?”
“I swear to God, if you touch her—”
“What?” Jesse sneered. “You’ll kill me?”
“Yeah,” Gunner growled. “I fucking will.”
Silence.
Then Jesse exhaled a dramatic sigh. “You Iron Sentinels think you own this town, don’t you? Think you can take what you want, keep what belongs to me?”
“She was never yours,” Gunner stated.
“Well, she is now. If you want her back, you’ll have to come get her. But don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of her until then.”
The line went dead. Gunner’s vision blurred with rage. His pulse pounded, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he forced himself to stay still, to think.
Dawn was out there, with that bastard
A chair scraped against the floor, and Beast was suddenly at his side. “What the fuck was that?”
Gunner’s jaw clenched so hard it ached. “Jesse has Dawn.”
A heavy silence settled over the room before Beast swore under his breath. “That son of a bitch.”
“I need everyone,” Gunner said, his voice sharp with urgency. “We’re getting her back. Now.”
No one questioned him. One look at Gunner’s face and every Iron Sentinels member knew this wasn’t just about club business—this was personal. And when something was personal, they didn’t hesitate. They moved.
Within seconds, the entire MC was in motion. Chairs scraped against the floor as men shot to their feet, voices sharp and urgent as they called for weapons. Someone shoved a shotgun into Beast’s hands. Another brother passed a pistol to Ruger. Tires screeched in the distance as a few of the younger prospects scrambled to their bikes, ready to ride at a moment’s notice.
Gunner stood in the center of it all, pulse hammering, rage simmering just beneath his skin. He forced himself to breathe, to think, to focus. Losing his head wouldn’t help Dawn and would only slow him down.
