Chapter 8
Doc
The engine vibrates through my thighs, steady and alive beneath me. Carly’s arms are wrapped tight around my waist.
The road stretches ahead in a long strip of cracked asphalt and fading paint. Wind cuts sharp against my face, colder now that the sun’s dropping lower. It slips under my cut, finds the sweat at the back of my neck, cools it fast.
Behind me, Carly presses closer.
I feel her cheek against my back.
Viper rides ahead, Road Captain instincts in every subtle shift of his body. He scans intersections before we hit them. Blade is two bikes back, tail steady, watchful. Saint rides loose but alert. Ghost keeps tight formation near me.
We roll off the main road and onto a narrower stretch lined with abandoned warehouses and faded signage. The place Ghost sent is up ahead. Single-story industrial unit. Rusted roll-up doors. One side entrance.
Two cars in the lot. A dark van parked farther back near the loading dock.
Lights on inside.
I slow.
Viper raises two fingers.
We fan out without breaking rhythm.
I ease the bike to a stop near the far end of the lot, shadowed from the front entrance. Kill the engine. Silence hits hard.
Carly loosens her grip slowly.
I swing my leg off and turn to her.
“Helmet,” I say.
She pulls it off. Her hair spills free, wind-tangled.
Her face is pale but steady.
“You stay here,” I tell her. “By the bikes. You see anything shift, you get behind the concrete barrier.”
She nods.
“You don’t come inside.”
“I won’t.”
I step closer, lowering my voice. “You don’t move unless I’m walking back toward you.”
Her hand slides into mine, just for a second.
“I won’t,” she repeats.
I squeeze once and let go.
Viper moves first, Saint at his shoulder. Ghost circles wide toward the back.
Blade secures the lot, eyes sweeping the vehicles, then falls in behind us.
Door’s metal. Cheap lock.
Viper glances at me.
I nod.
Saint produces a pry bar and wedges it between the door and frame. One sharp twist.
Metal groans.
Second twist.
The lock gives.
Viper pushes the door open slow.
Dim hallway inside. Fluorescent hum. Smell of oil and something sour beneath it.
Ghost’s voice comes low through the comm in my ear. “Back clear.”
We move.
Boots quiet on concrete.
Voices drift from deeper inside. Male. Laughing. Unaware.
We split.
Saint and Blade take left corridor.
Viper and I move right.
Ghost stays rear.
I hear it before I see it.
A muffled sound.
Small.
We clear one room. Empty. Second room—office space. Papers scattered. Laptop open.
Third door.
Locked.
The muffled sound again.
I step back.
Kick once.
Door splinters inward.
Two men inside.
One near the window. One by a chair in the center of the room.
The chair holds a girl.
Wrists tied. Ankles bound. Tape over her mouth.
She’s young.
Too young.
The man near her turns, eyes wide.
“What the—”
He doesn’t finish.
Viper hits him first. Clean strike to the throat. Man drops.
The second reaches for something on the table.
I cross the distance in three strides.
Grab his wrist.
Twist.
Bone cracks.
He screams.
I slam him face-first into the wall.
Hard.
He crumples.
The girl flinches at the noise.
I crouch in front of her immediately.
“It’s okay,” I say, voice even. “You’re safe.”
Her eyes are wild.
Behind me, boots thunder in the hallway. Saint’s voice carries.
“Two down on our side.”
Ghost appears in the doorway. “Front’s clear.”
I peel the tape gently from the girl’s mouth.
She gasps.
“They said—” Her voice breaks.
“It’s over,” I tell her.
I cut the bindings at her wrists.
Her skin is raw underneath.
Anger moves through me like a slow burn.
I shrug off my cut and drape it around her shoulders.
“Can you stand?”
She nods shakily.
I help her up.
I glance toward the lot through the window.
Carly stands near the bikes, arms folded tight around herself against the cold. She’s watching the door.
Waiting.
Viper drags one of the men into the hallway by his collar.
“Where’s the rest?” he demands.
The man wheezes.
“Gone,” he croaks.
Saint appears behind him, shoving another body forward.
“That’s it,” Saint says. “Building’s clean.”
The girl clutches my shirt in her fists.
“I thought—” she whispers.
“You’re out,” I say again. “Focus on that.”
She nods, but her grip doesn’t loosen.
A heavy clang splits the air from the lot.
Metal skids across asphalt.
Then—an engine.
Ghost hears it at the same time. His head snaps toward the front.
I’m already moving.
“Blade, take her,” I order, guiding the girl toward him. “Stay with her. Nobody gets near.”
Blade steps in without hesitation, steady hands taking the girl’s shoulders.
“I’ve got her.”
I move fast down the hallway, boots striking concrete harder than before.
The front door swings open.
Cold air slams into me. The lot is different.
The space where Carly was standing is empty.
My stomach drops.
I scan left.
Right.
The concrete barrier.
The bikes.
One of them is tipped on its side.
Her helmet lies a few feet away, visor cracked.
No Carly.
Then I see it.
Headlights cutting across the far end of the lot.
A dark van peeling out onto the side street.
Rear doors shut.
Windows tinted.
“No,” I breathe.
Viper is beside me in a second.
“You see her?” he asks.
I don’t answer.
I’m already running.
Saint curses behind us.
“She was by the bikes.”
I know.
I know exactly where she was.
The van fishtails slightly as it hits the corner.
Ghost’s voice cuts sharp. “That wasn’t random. They were watching.”
My vision narrows to the van’s taillights shrinking down the road.
I was inside.
I left her outside.
I left her exposed.
Every brutal image slams through my head at once. Her wrists bound again. Tape over her mouth. That look in her eyes last night when she said she didn’t want to feel alone.
And I left her alone.
My chest goes cold.
Viper grabs my arm. “Doc.”
I yank free.
“Keys.”
Saint is already sprinting toward the bikes.
Blade’s voice comes through the comm, tight but steady. “Girl’s secure. I’ll get her back to the clubhouse.”
“Do it,” Viper snaps.
I reach my bike in three strides, hands shaking once before they lock steady around the grips.
This is my fault.
I should’ve kept her behind me.
Should’ve put her in the truck.
Should’ve—
The engine roars to life beneath me.
Ghost mounts up beside me.
“Plate?” he asks.
“Didn’t see it.”
Viper pulls ahead. “Doesn’t matter. We know the direction.”
We launch out of the lot.
Tires scream.
The cold air hits my face like a slap.
The van’s already halfway down the industrial strip when we turn the corner. I catch a glimpse of it. Dark paint, no markings.
They planned it.
They waited.
They knew we’d move tonight.
I push the throttle harder.
The engine screams.
If they touch her—
My mind doesn’t finish the thought.
I lean low over the tank.
Viper’s voice cuts through the comm. “They’ll hit the highway.”
“Then we hunt,” Ghost says.