Chapter Three #2
Chase sat there for a long time after she was gone, heart still racing, a half-eaten muffin in front of him and the ghost of her smile burned into his memory.
He didn’t know her last name.
He didn’t know where she worked.
But he already knew one thing for certain.
I’m going to see her again.
For a change, the future didn’t feel like something he had to survive. Instead, it felt like something worth chasing.
***
Mason
The war room in the Chicago clubhouse smelled of stale coffee and gun oil, the long table was scored and gouged from years of hard decisions. Mason leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming once against the worn wood as he stared at the latest report Myron had sent over.
Bones sat across from him, massive arms folded, his scarred face impassive as always. The big man had been with him since the early days—loyal to the core, and one of the few who would tell him the truth even when it stung.
“He’s doing well in Fort Wayne,” Mason said, voice low. “Bear says the boy is blending in. Working hard in the garage, playing music with the band. He’s even starting to open up a little.”
Bones gave a slow nod. “That is good. Chase has strong hands and a good head. He listens more than most young ones do. You should be proud.”
“I am.” The words came out gruff, but they were true.
Mason rubbed a hand over his jaw, the pride sitting warm in his chest even as something sharper twisted beneath it.
“Kid’s got talent with that guitar. Bear says he lights up the whole damn garage when he plays.
And he’s not pushing the patch right now.
Part of me is glad. Music might keep him safer than this life ever could. ”
Bones studied him for a long moment, eyes steady. “But you are worried.”
Mason exhaled sharply. “Diamante ghosts are stirring again. Long time RWMC enemies, as most of us know. Old grudges don’t die as easy as I’d like.
They already know about the boy. If they find out how much he matters...
” He let the thought hang, jaw tight. “I should’ve kept him closer.
Or maybe sent more protection. He’s out there trying to build something real—music, maybe even a girl—and I’m sitting here bracing for the worst.”
Bones unfolded his arms and leaned forwards, voice calm and deliberate, each word shaped carefully without shortcuts.
“You cannot wrap him in bubble wrap forever. He is your son, but he is becoming his own man. Bear and the Fort Wayne brothers will watch over him. We will observe from here. If Diamante moves, we will be ready. He needs room to grow. You gave him that when you sent him over there. Do not take it back now out of fear.”
Mason met the big man’s eyes, the weight of years of leadership pressing on his shoulders. Pride and worry warred inside him, sharp and familiar.
“He’s better than I was at his age,” Mason admitted quietly. “Smarter. Softer in the right ways. I just don’t want the old ghosts to take that from him.”
Bones nodded once, slow and certain. “Then we make sure they do not. That is what family does.”
Mason let the words settle, the knot in his chest easing just a fraction. Chase was finding his way. The club would have his back. He just hoped his boy understood how many people were in his corner, ready to support him however it’s needed.
But the Diamante threat lingered in the back of his mind like a storm on the horizon—dark, patient, and far too close for comfort.
***
Kath
Kath leaned into the throttle and let the wind whip across her face as she tore away from the diner. The custom bike roared beneath her like a living thing—Bear had done insane work on it. Every time she rode it, she felt a little more untouchable.
But right now, her heart was beating too fast for the speed she was going.
Chase.
She hadn’t even gotten his last name. Just “Chase.” Tall, with broad shoulders and stormy gray eyes that looked like they’d seen too much for his age. Quiet voice. Careful smile. The kind of guy who weighed everything before he spoke. Sometimes twice.
And still he’d walked right up to her like he couldn’t help himself.
“Idiot,” she muttered under her breath, but she was smiling. A real one. The kind that made her cheeks ache because it had been so long since one slipped out naturally.
She downshifted hard at a light and rolled her shoulders, trying to shake off the strange buzz still lingering under her skin.
Guys hit on her all the time. It was part of working at The Grindhouse coffee shop near the college strip—tired musicians, frat boys, bikers, suits.
She had a whole arsenal of polite deflections and sharp comebacks.
But Chase hadn’t felt like he was trying to run a game on her. He’d seemed truly genuine. Almost surprised by his own boldness. And when he talked about music, his eyes had lit up in a way that made her want to listen.
Dangerous.
Kath pulled into the employee lot behind The Grindhouse and killed the engine. For a long moment, she just sat there on the bike, helmet in her lap, staring at the brick wall like it might give her answers.
She didn’t do this. She didn’t let random cute boys get under her skin after one conversation.
She’d learned that lesson the hard way watching her mom cycle through men like they were disposable.
Watching Maudie make the same mistakes over and over.
Hell, watching herself almost fall into that trap with the last guy who’d sweet-talked his way past her walls.
Never again.
But Chase hadn’t pushed. He hadn’t leered. He’d just talked. About music. About feeling like you’re living in someone else’s shadow. About songs that felt like lifelines.
She pulled out her phone and opened the notes app where she kept her half-finished lyrics. Her thumbs hovered, then started moving.
Boy with quiet eyes and storms inside his name
Sat across cheap coffee like he already knew the game
Didn’t try to own me, didn’t try to play
Just looked at me like maybe I was worth the stay
Kath stared at the lines, heart thudding. She deleted them. Then typed them again. Then locked her phone and shoved it into her back pocket like it had burned her.
“Get it together, Kath,” she muttered, swinging off the bike.
Inside the coffee shop, the afternoon rush was just starting. She tied on her apron, plastered on her customer-service smile, and threw herself into the rhythm of orders and espresso shots. But her mind kept drifting back to the diner.
The way Chase had rubbed the back of his neck when he got nervous. The quiet intensity in his voice when he talked about music being the only honest thing he had. The fact that he knew Bear. That he knew all about the club crowd but didn’t wear a patch.
He’s trouble, she thought as she frothed milk for a latte. The kind that looks safe right up until it isn’t.
By the time her shift ended, she was exhausted and restless. She rode home slower than usual, taking the long way through town just to feel the wind. When she pulled up to the small house she shared with Maudie, the lights were on and a low TV noise was coming from inside.
She killed the engine and swung off the bike, steeling herself.
Maudie was probably drunk again. Maybe. Or Tony might be back. Or some new loser.
Same shit, different week.
Kath pulled her phone out and opened the notes app again. She carefully reread the lines she’d written earlier, then added two more.
He looked like safety wearing danger’s face
And part of me wanted to burn the whole damn place
She closed the app, grabbed her helmet, and headed inside.
But even as she walked through the door and braced for whatever chaos waited inside, she couldn’t stop the small, traitorous thought from slipping through:
Wonder if I’ll see him again.
She paused, surprised, because the idea didn’t scare her as much as it should have.