Chapter 15
Roman
It’s been eight days since Kayla disappeared.
Eight days of searching until I can barely keep my eyes open, only to collapse in some motel room for a few hours before starting again.
My body is running on caffeine and fear, my body screaming for rest while my mind races in endless circles.
But I can’t stop. Won’t stop. Not until I find her.
My bike rumbles beneath me as I pull into the gas station, the tank nearly empty after another day of futile searching.
The neon sign flickers overhead, casting sickly blue and red shadows across the cracked asphalt.
It’s the kind of place that would make Kayla wrinkle her nose; grimy windows, peeling paint, air thick with the smell of burnt coffee and cigarettes.
The thought of her sends another spike of pain through my chest. She’s out there somewhere, waiting for me to find her. And I’m failing her.
I cut the engine and swing my leg off the bike, my joints protesting the movement. How long have I been riding today? Eight hours? Ten? The days have started to blur together, one desperate search bleeding into the next.
I’ve called in every favor I’ve ever been owed.
Talked to snitches, dealers, guys who fence stolen goods, anyone who might have crossed paths with Demon or his crew.
I’ve put the word out with a network of truckers who keep their eyes open for a price, with the bartenders and bouncers at the seedier establishments where men like Demon might show their faces.
Yesterday, I spent three hours digging through the charred remains of the Hell’s Fury clubhouse that we burned down last year, hoping to find anything that might lead me to where Demon would take Kayla. All I got was splinters in my palms.
My phone buzzes in my pocket for at least the twentieth time today.
Pulling it out, I take a look. Atlas again.
I shove it back in my pocket without answering.
Over the past several days, Atlas’s threats have given way to promises of amnesty if I return.
Naomi’s messages swing between anger and pleading.
The brothers send texts trying to guilt me into coming back, reminding me of my responsibilities to the club, to the brotherhood. As if any of that matters now.
I ignore the buzzing and push through the gas station door. The fluorescent lights inside are harsh, making my eyes ache. My reflection in the security mirror above the counter makes me wince, I’m hollow eyed and my clothes are rumpled and stained from days of wear. I barely recognize myself.
The clerk barely glances up as I grab a pre-packaged sandwich from the refrigerator case and the largest energy drink they sell. I toss a few bills on the counter, not waiting for change, and head back outside.
Once there, I stop short with a muffled curse. Naomi is leaning against my bike, her red curls catching the neon light, turning them an unnatural crimson. Flanking her are three of my brothers; Axe, Diesel, and Reaper. Three of Atlas’s most loyal enforcers. They’re watching me warily.
An ambush, then. But I’m too tired to care.
I walk past them without acknowledgment, unwrapping the sandwich as I go. The bread is stale, the ham of questionable freshness, but I force it down anyway. Fuel for the body. Nothing more.
“Are you seriously going to ignore us?” Naomi’s voice is sharp with indignation. “We’ve been looking for you for days.”
I continue eating, not bothering to look at her. I wash down a bite with a long pull from the energy drink, the artificial sweetness making my teeth ache.
“Viper,” Diesel says, his voice lower, more reasonable. “Come on, brother. Talk to us.”
I finish the sandwich, crumple the wrapper, and toss it in the nearby trash can. Still, I say nothing. I straddle my bike, keys in hand, ready to leave them all behind again.
“This is ridiculous,” Naomi snaps, stepping in front of the bike to block my path. Her face is flushed with anger, freckles standing out starkly against her pale skin. “You’ve been out here for more than a week, and what do you have to show for it? Nothing.”
I take another swig of the energy drink, feeling the caffeine hit my bloodstream. I just needs to keep me going for a little while longer. Just long enough for me to find Kayla.
“Atlas sent us to bring you back,” Naomi continues when I don’t respond. “He says if you come back now, there won’t be any club discipline for walking out.”
I don’t respond, just finish off the energy drink and crush the can in my fist. Naomi shifts her weight, impatient with my silence.
“Did you hear what I said? Atlas will forget this whole thing if you just come back. Do you know how rare that is? Do you know how much I had to beg to make that happen?”
I finally look at her, really look at her, for what feels like the first time in my life. She’s beautiful in that fierce way she’s always been, with her wild red curls and sharp edges. But I see her differently now. See the manipulation in her wide eyes, the calculation behind her concern.
“If you’re so afraid of Demon,” I say slowly, “why are you out here right now? Why aren’t you safe at the clubhouse?”
The question catches her off guard. Her mouth opens, then closes again. For a moment, she looks almost confused, as if she hasn’t considered this inconsistency in her own behavior.
“I—“ She stops, regroups. “I have protection.” She gestures to the men around her. “These guys aren’t letting anything happen to me.”
I scoff, “right.”
Her eyes narrow and her face twists in anger. “What are you trying to say, Viper?”
“I’m saying that one of these days, you’re going to have to tell me what really happened with Demon.” I toss the crushed can into the trash. “What I almost died for. What I screwed up my marriage for. What Kayla got kidnapped for.”
Naomi’s face flushes darker, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “I told you what happened,” she says, her voice rising. “Demon and I had a thing. I ended it. He couldn’t handle rejection. He took me, and when you came to save me, he tried to kill you. I shot him. End of story.”
“Whatever you say.” I turn the key in the ignition, my bike rumbling to life beneath me.
“Don’t you walk away from me again,” Naomi hisses, stepping even closer, her hand landing on my arm. “You’re making a mistake, Viper.”
I look down at her hand on my arm, then back to her face. “Move,” I say quietly. “Or I’ll move you myself.”
Her face contorts with rage, but she steps back, hand dropping to her side. “Fine. Have it your way. But don’t come crawling back when you’ve got nothing left.” She turns to the others. “Let’s go.”
They hesitate a moment, looking between the two of us.
“Now!” Naomi snaps, and they fall in behind her, heading toward their bikes parked on the far side of the lot.
I watch them go, a strange feeling settling in my gut. There’s something wrong with Naomi’s story. Something that doesn’t fit. But right now, I can’t afford to dwell on it. Kayla is all that matters.
Just as I’m about to pull away, my phone buzzes again. I almost ignore it, but some instinct makes me fish it out of my pocket. Unknown number. Usually I’d let it go to voicemail, but something tells me to answer this one.
“Yeah?” My voice sounds like I’ve been gargling gravel.
“Meet me where they took her.” Dragon’s voice is unmistakable, cool and controlled. “Now.”
My heart rate kicks up a notch. “How do you know where—“
But the line is already dead. He hung up.
I stare at the phone for a second, adrenaline surging through my system. Dragon has something. Maybe a lead, maybe more. It’s the first real hope I’ve had in days.
I kick my bike into gear and roar out of the gas station, leaving Naomi and the others behind. The wind whips at my face as I push the speed, cutting through the night toward County Road 16, where Kayla’s car was found. Fear and hope wage war in my chest, neither winning the upper hand.
The abandoned gas station looms out of the darkness as I approach, its broken windows like empty eye sockets staring into the night. Dragon is already here, his bike parked on the shoulder where Kayla’s car had been. He’s leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest, face grim.
“You made good time,” he says as I kill my engine. Those uncanny green-gold eyes assess me coolly.
“How did you know where she was taken?” I demand, not bothering with pleasantries.
Dragon’s mouth quirks up at one corner. “I know a lot of things,” he says, which isn’t an answer at all. “What matters is that I know where my brother is holding your wife.”
Hope flares, bright and dangerous. “Where?”
“Get on your bike,” Dragon says, already moving toward his own. “Follow me.”
“Why are you helping me?” I ask, not moving yet. “What’s in it for you?”
Dragon pauses, looking back at me over his shoulder. “Let’s just say I have my own reasons for wanting to find Kit.” His expression hardens slightly. “Are you coming or not?”
I don’t need to be asked twice. I kick my bike back to life and fall in behind him as he pulls out onto the road. We ride for what feels like an hour, the landscape growing increasingly remote. Pine forests press close on either side of the road, their shadows deep and impenetrable.
Eventually, Dragon signals and turns onto a dirt track so overgrown it’s barely visible from the main road. We have to slow to a crawl, navigating around fallen branches and deep ruts.
After what feels like an eternity of winding through dense forest, the trees suddenly give way to a clearing. Five weathered warehouses stand in a rough semicircle, their metal sides rusted, windows boarded up or broken. They look like they’ve been abandoned for years, forgotten by the world.
I park next to Dragon, killing my engine. The place is silent, our breathing the only sounds I can hear.
“Where are we?” I ask, voice hushed in the eerie stillness.