Tracker (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #3) Read Online Lilly Atlas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
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“A bra? Really?” Jinx snorted.

“First thing I saw when I was fucking rushing out of Jo’s house,” he shouted as he ran after Betty, who’d darted back out into the storm.

“I’ll search the rest of the house,” Jinx yelled.

Rain tended to muddle and mask scents, but Betty had enough experience in horrible circumstances to be able to get the job done. This wasn’t his girl’s first rodeo.

Her nose immediately hit the ground, and she trekked across the grass. She had it. She’d caught the scent.

Tracker ran after her, but she was too damn fast, and he quickly lost sight of her in the torrent of rain. His heart pounded so loud it drowned out the wind.

“Betty?” he called as he ran.

A loud bark caught his attention. Or was it just the hammer of his pulse in his ears?

Arf!

No, there it was again. And again. Betty came into sight, tail wagging, barking furiously. She hopped around a heap on the ground.

Jo.

Tracker ran the last twenty feet like his life depended on it. He dropped to his knees, skidding through the muck.

Jo lay sprawled on her stomach.

He rolled her over to find her completely unconscious.

Tracker gathered her into his arms with as much care as possible. She was cold. Way colder than a person should be and caked in mud.

“Oh, Christ,” he moaned. Blood, there was so much blood. He was going to be sick. “Jo? Baby, wake up. Come on, baby.”

One of her legs stuck out at an unnatural angle. Something stuck out of her side. Feeling around, Tracker froze when his hand encountered an enormous shard of glass jutting out of her side.

“Oh, fuck. Come on, baby.” He tapped her cheek with a rough pat. “You need to wake up for me, Jo. Jinx!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Coming, brother.” He must have heard Betty losing her mind because he was already halfway between the house and Tracker.

“Call for a fucking ambulance, man. It’s bad. It’s so bad.” He gathered her frigid body as close and tight as he dared, worried about injuring her further. But she needed warmth. “Baby, please.” He kissed her forehead.

Her whole face was riddled with cuts and probably embedded glass.

“EMS is on the way. Told them an officer was down, so they’d hustle the fuck up. No sign of Andrew.”

“He’s a dead man,” Tracker said as he rocked Jo in his arms.

Why wasn’t she waking up? Had she hit her head? Bled out?

“Jinx…” It came out as a pitiful moan.

“She’ll be all right, man.” His giant hand landed on Tracker’s shoulder and squeezed. “She’s tough as shit. This ain’t enough to take your woman out. You gotta know that.”

His throat constricted, making a response impossible. “Please, Jo,” he mouthed against her forehead. Tracker didn’t cry. It just wasn’t something that happened. Ever. But even so, the hot sting of tears leaving his eyes and landing on Jo’s forehead didn’t surprise him.

He loved her, and he might have lost her before he’d grown the balls to admit it.

A barely audible moan had him freezing. “Jo? Was that you? Jinx did you hear that?”

The sound came again, and Tracker sobbed in relief.

She was alive.

“Jo,” he said, kissing all over her face. “Baby, can you talk to me?”

She blinked slowly. Her unfocused gaze met his. “Hu…” she croaked, then tried to lick her lips. “Hurts.”

“I know, baby. I know. Help is on the way.” The urge to ask her what had happened and where the fuck Andrew was tore at him, overshadowed only by his fear for her life. Just because she woke up didn’t mean she was out of the woods.

“Where the fuck is the ambulance?” he growled up at Jinx.

“Coming, T. It’s coming. I think I hear something in the distance.” Jinx stared down the street through thick sheets of rain.

“So stupid,” Jo whispered.

“What was that, baby? What’d you say?” He leaned over so his ear was against her freezing, wet lips. Rain pounded all around them. She shivered in his arms, cold as ice despite being September in Florida. He tightened his grip. Hopefully, he’d pass some body heat to her, although he wasn’t exactly toasty.

“So stupid,” she whispered again. “Shoulda told him.”

Him? Tracker? Andrew? One of her family members?

“Should have told him what, Jo?”

“Love him. Love you.”

“Christ, I love you too, Jo.” How could two words cause such pain and elation at the same time? “Do you hear me, baby?”

Her eyes fluttered as though she fought to remain conscious.

“I fucking love you, so you better fucking stay with me.” This time when her eyes closed, they stayed shut, and she went limp in his arms. “No!” he howled. As the wail of sirens grew closer, Tracker bent over the woman he loved, whispered to her, and tried to keep from falling to pieces.


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