Seth turned his bike down the dusty lane that led to the clubhouse. As his rear wheel spun in the dirt at the harshness of his turn, he realized with a similar jolt that he had no idea how he’d gotten back. Raindrops had started to fall, spattering against his cut and turning the dust that lay under his wheels to mud. He hadn’t even noticed the clouds gathering, a bad move when you were riding.

His mind had been consumed with thoughts of Nikki, of her supple body lying under his, her lips, God how wet her pussy had been as he’d thrust deep inside her. One of his hands had wrapped around her wrist as he’d moved, and God, he’d loved it. Marking her, claiming her as his. He’d longed to hold her firmer, maybe even spank that gorgeous ass next time she gave him sass instead of answers. Was it possible that as well as being smoking hot, Nikki was into a bit of kink? Lord knows that would be the death of him. The perfect woman, right in front of him, and he couldn’t have her.

She was no touching allowed, at least until they figured out what her real story was. Levi would have his head, and probably his role in the club, too, if he knew what had gone down already. He couldn’t get his dick wet again until he’d figured out Nikki’s story, at least not with her. But ever since throwing her over his shoulder like a damn caveman, she was the only woman occupying both his thoughts and his arousal. Yep, he was totally fucked.

As he’d sped along the highway, the images had merged with others; both real and imagined. Fantasies of fucking Nikki tied to his bed merged with images of her bound and captive, stripped and tied down to the filthy mattress he’d found at the warehouse. The thought gave him chills. His skin broke out in goose bumps despite the heat of the day still lingering, and his semi-hard cock deflated. He’d revved his bike, zooming faster than was legal along the asphalt and leaving Doc in his wake. His mind whirled, flashes of Nikki writhing in pleasure mixing and swirling with her writhing again, but in pain from the Jokers’ obscene desire.

Did they actually get off on what they did? Seth was no saint, not by a long shot, but anyone who treated women with anything other than the utmost respect got absolutely none from him. When fantasies of his own on what had happened to the dead Joker they’d found on the highway joined in, it was a wonder he hadn’t wrecked his damn bike. Nikki was his to protect, and anyone who laid a hand on her—Joker or even one of the Kings—would be sorry.

The gates at the entrance to the compound swung open as he approached. Now all Seth had to do was get his fucking head on straight and then make a report to Levi that wouldn’t end up in bloodshed, probably his. But first, he was going to check on Nikki. The thoughts racing through his mind for the last hour had affected him more than he’d like to admit. Once he laid eyes on her, checked that she was okay and nothing had happened in his absence from any missed injury . . . then he’d be able to go and talk to Levi without completely losing his shit.

He took a few minutes more than he liked to park his bike in the undercover area of the clubhouse and then strode over to his cabin. The clouds were gathering quickly, the sky fully gray, and fat raindrops splashed against his skin as he forced himself to not to break into a run. The few minutes it had taken to get inside and take care of his ride had been far too long, and his nerves were tingling at the thought of seeing Nikki again. He reached the door to the cabin and flung it open. Fuck pausing to knock. He’d gotten an eyeful of everything the night before, and so it wasn’t as if he could catch her by surprise or see something she hadn’t willingly given up to him already.

Well, fuck him.

Seth’s feet stopped dead at the open door. The cabin was small; it wasn’t as if there was anywhere you could hide. The entire space, sans the bathroom, was clearly visible from the open door. Even if Nikki was there, he should have been able to hear her. Damn, Seth was sure he’d sense her. She’d left an imprint on his skin the night before, one he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to wash off, one that made him aware in seconds that Nikki was no longer in his cabin. Instead, Seth was staring into the face of Padre, the club’s chaplain.

“What happened?” The words left his mouth in a growl. If Nikki was gone and the damn chaplain was sitting there in Seth’s room, not saying a damn word, then something had gone seriously wrong. Where was Nikki? Was Doc losing his edge? Seth shook his head. No, Callie had checked her over, too. Both of them had cleared Nikki of any serious injury. Just scrapes and bruises. Had they been wrong? Had someone taken Nikki to hospital or . . . just what the hell was Padre doing sitting in his cabin? Seth had felt the attraction to Nikki the moment he’d laid eyes on her, but he’d kept it on the down low. At least, he thought he had.

His hand gripped the doorjamb as he fought back a bitter laugh. Levi never missed a damn trick. But still, he didn’t expect the King’s president to send Padre after him to break the news. Levi knew him better than that. Hell, was he now no better than Grady, losing his shit when some ass was maybe stalking Callie?

The thought was like a bucket of ice water had been emptied over his head. It was exactly like that. Seth had rolled his eyes at Grady at the time, getting so bent over a chick who they had no proof at the time she was even in danger. Now, he understood. He’d do anything to keep Nikki safe.

Except he’d fucked up royally already. What had he been thinking, leaving her locked up in his cabin all day without asking anyone to check in on her? He was a complete moron, and an asshole. He could only hope Nikki would forgive him once he found out where the fuck she was. They still needed to find out her story, find out the real reason she was with the Jokers, but he would protect her no matter what side she was playing in the beginning. That much he was sure of. He just had to find her.

First step. Find out what the hell Padre was doing in his cabin. Seth resisted the urge to clench his hands into fists. Even the roughest and loudmouthed of the Kings at least tried to reign it in a little around the man, even though it was likely entirely unnecessary. Padre could curse and drink the rest of them under the table. The man was older than most of the members, including Seth, and knew his way around the world, and a bar. Which was why finding him sitting along in his cabin was starting to scare the shit out of Seth.

He pried his hand off the doorjamb and inclined his head to Padre, who was by now likely wondering if Seth was either high or insane with how long he’d been standing in the doorway imagining just how far down the rabbit hole to hell the situation had gotten in his absence. “Padre. Where is she?”

The man in question looked up at Seth, his eyes full of regret. Rather than speak, he ran a hand through his hair, still worn long despite his age, and cleared his throat. Seth’s heart plummeted into his feet. Just what the hell had happened in the couple of hours he and Doc had been gone? “Seth, I’m sorry. I, uh, lost her.”

He what? Seth’s feet started moving toward the table before he could stop them. He lost her? What the hell did that mean? Surely he didn’t mean that she’d died? Not after Doc and Callie had both . . . God, he had to get a grip and get Padre to start talking sense before he lost his fucking mind.

Padre didn’t seem to realize how close Seth was to throwing something at his head. The man was still rambling. “I was sitting outside, spending some time with God and the universe. I didn’t realize she was supposed to stay in your cabin. I told her . . .” Padre finally sucked in a breath. “I told her . . .” he broke off again, finally looking up and meeting Seth’s gaze again. “Sticks, I didn’t stop her.”

The fist squeezing Seth’s gut had lessened only slightly at Padre’s words, but his pulse still thrummed hard against his neck. He didn’t stop her doing what? “Where is she?”

Padre’s hand moved again, this time rubbing the back of his neck. “She left, Sticks. Walked off the compound, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I . . . uh . . . might have been sleeping a little, too. I’m sorry, Sticks. I didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to leave.”

Fuck. That’s what he got for trying to keep everything a damn secret. He thought he was doing Nikki, and the club, a favor by trying to keep things under wraps until he had some actual answers, but he’d already gone and shot himself in the foot.

Padre stood, moving toward Seth, who was still standing half way between the doorway and the table. “I’ll help you look for her. We can even take my car, in case she can’t come back on your bike.”

Seth frowned. There was no way he wanted to get into a cage, but Padre had a point. He had no idea where Nikki had gone, or if anything had happened to her. Her story hadn’t added up since the moment she’d opened her mouth. There was simply no way that witnessing the existence of a chop shop would have led to her ending up kidnapped and roughed up by the Jokers. They wouldn’t take that much risk. Most civilians would fold at a biker showing up at their door late one night and explaining why it was in their best interests to keep their mouth shut. Not to mention that Nikki was far from their usual victim. Why go through all the risk of snatching someone who was bound to be missed where there was an almost endless supply of teenage street kids and drug addicts to snatch up whenever the mood hit you? It just didn’t make sense.

Seth turned around, gesturing to Padre over his shoulder. “Let’s go. You’re driving.”