CHAPTER 1
Blade saw red as he pulled his truck into the motel parking lot. The Lucky 8 Motel. The fucking irony. There was nothing lucky about this dump. The neon sign flickered pathetically, only half of the letters lighting up.Lu..y 8 Mo..l. A rat scurried across the cracked pavement, disappearing under a rusted dumpster overflowing with trash. A rat. A literal rat. Yeah, real lucky.
His jaw clenched as he spotted room eight. Intel said that's where she was holed up. Lily Hart. The little blonde who'd caused so much fucking trouble, whether she meant to or not. He shut off the engine and sat for a moment, gathering himself. The club had finally pieced it all together. Lily had been blackmailed by Pedro's Rejects to infiltrate the Spartan Watchmen. But she'd failed. She couldn't bring herself to betray them, even with her family at risk. When everything came to light, when Savage’s girl, Savannah made a shocking confession to the club. It didn’t take long to realize that Lily was also being manipulated. Blade promised Savannah they would find and protect Lily. She was no more at fault in any of this than Savannah was.
Instead, she'd disappeared.
For two fucking weeks.
And now he was here to collect her and bring her under club protection, whether she liked it or not.
Blade stepped out of his truck, boots hitting the pavement with a heavy thud. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the familiar weight of his gun against his ribs. He doubted he'd need it, but in his line of work, you never took chances.
He approached room eight, listening for any sound. Nothing. He knocked firmly.
"Housekeeping," he growled, then smirked at his own dark humor.
No response.
He knocked again, harder. "Lily, open the fucking door. I know you're in there."
When silence answered him again, he muttered a string of curses. Fine. Hard way it was. He pulled out the keycard he'dpersuadedthe front desk clerk to provide. He could be pretty damn convincing.
The lock clicked, and he pushed the door open slowly, scanning the room before entering.
The stench hit him first. Mold, sweat and a hint of something sour. The room was pitch black, the curtains pulled tight across the windows, the lights off. The old split-level air conditioning and heater unit, apparently installed in the 80s, hummed loudly. A small form huddled under a thin blanket on the bed.
"Lily," he said, his voice firm but quieter now.
The form didn't move.
He flipped on the light switch.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he muttered as he took in the state of the room. Fast food wrappers littered the floor. The trash can overflowed with empty ramen cups. A half-eaten sandwich sat on the nightstand, green fuzzy mold beginning to grow on it.
And then there was Lily herself. She pushed the blanket down just enough to reveal her face, squinting at the sudden light.
She looked like shit. Her usually bright eyes were dull and sunken, dark circles underneath them. Her blonde hair hung in greasy strands. She'd lost weight. She was already small, but now? He took in a sharp breath. He should have come sooner.
"Go away," she whispered, her voice raspy.
He moved closer, towering over the bed. "Not happening, little girl."
At the endearment, anger flashed in her eyes. Good. She wasn't completely broken. Not yet, anyway.
"I'm not yourlittle girl," she hissed. "Who sent you? Lucky? Irish?"
"Does it matter?" he countered, looking around the room. "Where's your stuff? We're leaving."
"Not going anywhere with you." She pulled the blanket back over her head.
For fuck's sake.
Blade yanked the blanket off completely, ignoring her outraged squeal. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts. Both looked like they hadn't been washed in days. He eyed the orange dust on the gray shorts, someone had eaten chips and used her shorts as a napkin. He’d seen her at The Citadel. They’d talked and even played together a bit during playdates. Blade knew, without any doubt, Lily was truly a little. She wasn’t pretending. She wasn’t acting. She was little through and through.
"Yes, you are," he said with lethal calm. "You have two options. Either get up, pack your shit, and walk out of here with some dignity intact, or I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out. Your choice."
"You wouldn't dare," she challenged, sitting up.
