Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Ender
Two days felt like a lifetime when you measured it in missing hours.
The first day had been motion. Tires on asphalt, wind in my face, my eyes combing every ditch, driveway, and pull-off like Clove might be sitting there waiting, tied up and furious, ready to tell me I was an idiot for thinking she’d ever disappear on her own.
The second day had been worse.
Because the adrenaline didn’t hit as clean. It didn’t burn as bright. It turned thick and heavy like tar.
I hadn’t slept.
Not really.
I’d closed my eyes a few times leaning against the bar or sitting on my bike, but every time I drifted even a fraction, my brain dragged me back with the same image.
Clove.
I drummed my fingers on the table waiting for church to start.
Clove should’ve been here.
Not in church, she didn’t sit in on club business, but in the building. In the background. Somewhere close enough that you could turn your head and see her passing down the hallway, her hair pulled up, her face calm, her eyes watchful.
She wasn’t.
That absence sat on my chest like a weight.
Wrecker took his place at the front. He didn’t look tired, but I could see it anyway—the tightness around his eyes, the tension in his jaw.
He carried the club the way he always did, steady and unshakable, but even presidents weren’t immune to the kind of pressure that came from a missing girl tied to their club.
He scanned the room once, gaze sharp, then spoke. “Two days,” he said. “No contact. No ransom. No demands.”
Silence answered him.
I stood near the side wall with my arms crossed.
Kingston leaned against the wall not far from me, his posture casual but his eyes too alert to be relaxed.
Freak stood on the opposite side.
He didn’t sit. He didn’t lean. He stood like he was bracing for impact, shoulders squared, hands loose at his sides in a way that looked calm to anyone who didn’t know him.
I knew him.
Freak looked calm when he was one second away from violence.
Carnie wasn’t in the room. She wouldn’t be.
Basil stood near his father, jaw clenched so tight it looked like it hurt. He kept his eyes forward, but I caught him glancing at the door more than once, like he expected Clove to walk in and end this by existing.
She didn’t.
Wrecker continued. “We’ve got guys covering roads in and out. We’ve checked local spots. Empty properties. Campsites. Anything within an hour radius.”
My jaw tightened.
An hour radius wasn’t enough.
Whoever had her didn’t take her to hide ten minutes away like an amateur. They moved her. They planned. They knew what they were doing, or at least they thought they did.
I didn’t interrupt.
Not yet.
Wrecker’s eyes flicked to me anyway, like he could feel the heat behind my ribs.
“We’ve also got calls out,” he said. “Including to the Northbound Reapers.”
That name shifted the air in the room.
A few men straightened. A few muttered curses under their breath.
We didn’t do business with every club. We didn’t need to. Fallen Lords territory was ours, and most people were smart enough not to test it.
The Reapers were a possibility. It didn’t make sense though.
Wrecker raised his chin. “I reached out to the Devil’s Knights.”
That got more of a reaction. Not fear, but respect.
The Devil’s Knights weren’t just another club. They were established. Connected. The kind of name that carried weight in rooms you didn’t walk into unless you had a reason.
Our clubs had become close over the past years. Hell, the ol’ ladies had started doing vacations and trips together. We knew that we could trust the Devil’s Knights without lives, just like they could with us.
“King hadn’t heard of the Northbound Reapers, but he asked around. Got the name Yogi for the Prez,” he said. “Also got me a number for them. I called, and they didn’t answer, but I left a message. I’m gonna give him a second to call back before I blow up his phone.”
“It has to be them, or I’m a fucking unicorn,” Fox muttered. “We don’t have any enemies, and Clove sure as shit doesn’t.”
Wrecker didn’t deny it. “Maybe, but we need to know for sure. We wait.”
My hands flexed at my sides.
Waiting on calls.
Waiting on permissions.
Waiting on some polite club-to-club handshake while Clove was somewhere out there, tied up.
Every second mattered.
Every second was a mistake.
I shoved off the wall, unable to stay quiet any longer. “We need to move faster.”
Heads turned and the room shifted.
Wrecker’s gaze locked onto mine. “We are moving.”
“No,” I snapped. The word came out sharper than I meant it to, but I didn’t take it back. “We’re circling. We’re guessing. We’re waiting.”
“We’re gathering information,” Wrecker corrected, voice calm but edged. “So we don’t go blind into a trap.”
“A trap?” I took another step forward before I could stop myself. My pulse hammered in my ears. “She’s already in one.”
That landed.
A few men shifted uncomfortably.
Freak’s head turned slightly toward me, his eyes dark.
I didn’t care.
Wrecker didn’t look away. “You think I don’t know that?”
“Then why does it feel like we’re treating this like it’s optional?” I demanded.
The air went thick.
Kingston’s presence behind me tightened subtly, like he was ready to step in if I crossed a line.
I was already standing on it.
Wrecker’s voice dropped, quieter but harder. “Because if we rush, we fuck it up. And if we fuck it up, she dies.”
My stomach clenched.
I stared at him, jaw tight.
He held my gaze like a challenge.
Then he added, steady as a blade sliding into place, “She’s still alive.”
“How do you know?” I asked, voice lower now.
“Because if she wasn’t,” Wrecker said, “we’d have a message. We’d have proof. We’d have something. Whoever did this wants leverage, not a corpse.”
I wanted to argue.
I wanted to throw every awful possibility at him and make him feel the panic clawing at my throat.
But the logic was solid.
It didn’t calm me.
It just kept me from falling apart in front of everyone.
“We will find her,” Wrecker said, looking around the room now. “That’s not a question. That’s a promise.”
Freak finally spoke. “Damn right,” he said, voice low and rough. “And when we do… I want them breathing long enough to regret it.”
A murmur of agreement rolled through the room.
It wasn’t a cheer.
It was darker than that.
A vow.
Wrecker nodded once, acknowledging Freak without offering comfort. “We’re narrowing it down,” he said. “This isn’t random. Someone knew what they were doing. Someone wanted one of ours.”
My throat tightened.
One of ours.
Clove had been one of ours since the day she was born. She was club-raised. Club-protected. The kind of girl you didn’t touch unless you wanted war.
Apparently, someone wanted war.
Or thought they could win it.
Wrecker continued, voice steady. “Until we hear back from Yogi, we keep covering ground. We keep talking to contacts. We keep eyes on the roads. No one goes solo.”
A few men nodded.
My jaw clenched.
I’d already been riding solo. I’d been doing it because sitting still made me feel insane.
But hearing it out loud, being ordered not to, made something in me bristle.
Wrecker’s gaze found mine again, like he knew exactly what I was thinking. “Ender.”
The way he said my name wasn’t a reprimand.
It was a warning. I held his gaze for a beat, then I nodded once.
Not because I liked it, but because if I wanted Clove back, I couldn’t make myself a liability.
Wrecker’s eyes moved on. “We don’t show panic,” he said to the room. “We don’t let this shake us. That’s what they want. They want us sloppy. Emotional. Predictable.” Wrecker lifted his chin. “That’s it. Get back to work.”
“What about the cameras?” Oliver asked. “We’re really wanting them to see all of this?”
“I talked to Mac. We’ve reached an agreement that until we get this under control, the cameras will be on, but I will have final say over what makes it into the show. These guys hurt her daughter, and she wants the same thing we do.”
“So you’re saying we don’t have to knock the power out until we find Clove?” Boink laughed.
Wrecker shook his head. “Nah. Just ignore the fucking cameras right now. I’m not going to let any of this shit make it on the show. She’s gonna find out that she’s wasting footage right now.” He nodded to Cole. “That stays in here.”
Cole held up his hands. “Look, I don’t want the cameras any more than you guys do right now. My lips are sealed.”
Wrecker nodded. “Good.”
Church ended the way it always did, abruptly.
The guys started filing out, voices low again, and boots heavy.
Freak didn’t move immediately.
He stood there like a statue; eyes fixed on the floor for a long second.
Then he looked up, meeting my gaze across the room.
It wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t blame. It was something heavier.
Two men connected by the same problem, the same missing piece of the world, and the same violent certainty that we would burn everything down to get it back.
Freak’s jaw tightened. He gave a small nod.
A thank you, maybe.
Or a warning.
I wasn’t sure.
Then he turned and walked out, Basil trailing behind him like a shadow.
Kingston stepped closer to me once the room cleared. “You good?” he asked quietly.
I didn’t answer right away because the truth was no.
The truth was I could feel something shifting inside me, something that didn’t care about rules or patience or diplomacy. Something that wanted to grab the nearest throat and shake answers out of it.
But I kept my face blank. Kept my voice level. “I’m fine,” I said.
Kingston’s eyes narrowed slightly, like he didn’t buy it. He didn’t push. He just nodded toward the door. “You riding?”
I looked past him, out into the daylight spilling across the clubhouse lot.
My hands curled into fists.
“Yeah,” I said.
And as I walked toward my bike, I realized I wasn’t riding to look anymore.
I was riding to hunt.
And when I found the men who took her…
They were going to learn the difference.