Chapter Nineteen
Chase
Chase’s truck roared down the quiet street, the modified exhaust cutting through the night like a warning.
After getting Mason’s approval, he’d fired off a couple of texts, expecting an immediate response, but nope.
Now, it was the next day, and he hadn’t heard from Kath in over twenty-four hours.
No replies to his texts. No answer when he called. Not even a read receipt.
The silence was eating him alive.
He pulled up in front of her house. Her bike was right where it always was—parked neatly beside the porch, blue-and-white paint catching the streetlight. Relief hit him hard for half a second.
She was home. She had to be.
He climbed out and jogged up the steps, knocking firmly on the door. No answer. He knocked again, harder.
The door cracked open. A young woman stood there, eyes red and wide with fear. She looked a lot like Kath, but she also looked like she hadn’t slept.
“Are you Chase?” Her voice shook. When he nodded, she said, “Thank God. I’m Maudie. Have you seen her? Kath? Her bike’s here, but she’s...she’s gone.”
Chase’s stomach dropped like a stone.
“She made it home from work,” he said, voice tight. “The bike proves it. When was the last time you saw her?”
Maudie shook her head, stepping back so he could come inside. “I got home late. Her bike was already here. I figured she was in her room. But when I woke up this morning...nothing. Her bed wasn’t slept in. I texted her, but nothing back.”
Chase’s blood ran cold.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Kath’s number. It rang once...twice...
Then he heard it.
Maudie shook her head. “Yeah, her phone’s in her bedroom. I’m scared. She never goes anywhere without her phone.”
The familiar ringtone she’d set for him—the metal anthem she’d picked after their first long ride together—blaring from down the hallway. From her bedroom.
Chase pushed past her, heart hammering, and stepped into Kath’s room. He quickly verified her phone sat on the nightstand, screen lighting up with his name. The bed was made. Her notebook was still open on the desk. Everything looked normal...except she wasn’t there.
She’d made it home.
And then she’d disappeared.
The realization hit him like a freight train.
Taken.
Just like his mother had been taken what felt like a hundred years ago, but was only two. Carrie—dragged away in the night, used as leverage, and eventually murdered by her own blood. The same nightmare playing out again, only this time it was Kath.
Chase’s hands started to shake. The room tilted. For a moment, he was sixteen again, hearing the news about his mom, the cold finality of it, the way the world had gone silent and sharp all at once.
He forced himself to breathe. Forced the panic down.
Not now. Not when Kath needs me.
He stepped back outside into the cool night air, phone already in his hand, and dialed the only person he knew who could handle this.
Mason answered on the second ring.
“Dad,” Chase said, voice raw. “It’s Kath. She’s gone. Her bike is here. Her phone is here. But she’s not. I think...I think someone took her. Probably yesterday.”
There was a beat of silence on the other end. Then Mason’s voice came through, cold and deadly calm—the president voice.
“Stay where you are. Send Myron a pin for your location, and know I’m sending Bear and two others right now. Don’t touch anything. We’re coming.”
Chase leaned against the side of the truck, staring at Kath’s dark house, the bike still parked where she always left it.
He’d tried so hard to keep her safe by staying away.
And it hadn’t been enough.
Now the only thing left to do was pray they could get her back before the same ghosts that had taken his mother took her too.
***
Kath
Kath woke up to pain.
A sharp, throbbing ache pulsed at the back of her skull, so intense it made her eyes water before she even opened them.
She tried to lift her head and immediately regretted it—nausea rolled through her stomach.
She stayed very still, breathing through her mouth, trying to piece together what the hell had happened.
The last thing she remembered was stepping into the living room...where there’d been two strangers...the taller man turning towards her with a cold smile...
She cracked her eyes open. Dim light. Concrete floor. She was lying on a thin mattress in what looked like a basement or storage unit. Her hands weren’t tied, but her head felt like it had been split open.
They hit me.
One of them must have clocked her with the butt of a gun. Hard. She’d felt like she’d been out for hours. Based on the light coming through the small, grimy window, it was at least the next afternoon. Maybe afternoon had already turned to early evening.
Low voices drifted from the other side of a half-closed door.
“...should’ve waited. Mason’s gonna lose his shit when he finds out we grabbed the girl...”
“...worth it. Saw her leaving Bear’s garage on one of their custom bikes. Figured she had to be someone’s old lady. Or at least important enough to make them bleed a little...”
Kath stayed perfectly still, barely breathing, straining to catch every word. Most of it didn’t make sense—names she didn’t recognize, old grudges about territory and “the old days,” someone muttering about how the Diamante MC used to run smooth until “that bastard stuck his nose in.”
Diamante. She’d heard that name before in passing from some of her mother’s men but never paid much attention. Now it sent ice down her spine.
She shifted slightly, trying to get a better angle to listen, and her boot scraped against the concrete.
The voices stopped.
Footsteps approached.
The tall one—the one with the scar across his cheek—pushed the door open and stepped inside. The shorter man stayed in the doorway, watching. The tall one crouched a few feet away, elbows on his knees, studying her like she was an interesting bug.
“You been awake long?” he asked, voice flat.
Kath gave a short, careful headshake, then immediately winced as fresh pain spiked through her skull.
The man’s mouth twitched. “Good. Means you’re not dead. Yet.” He tilted his head. “You know why you’re here?”
Kath shook her head again, smaller this time.
The tall one let out a bitter laugh. “Mason. That’s why.
Fucking Mason and his precious little empire.
We had a good thing going with the Diamante crew.
Real money. Real power. Then he stuck his nose in where it didn’t belong, tore everything apart from the inside.
Cost us years of work. Cost some of our brothers their lives. ”
He leaned in closer, eyes cold.
“So now we’re taking something from him. Or someone close to him. Saw you riding out of Bear’s garage on one of their fancy custom bikes. Figured you had to matter to the club. Old lady. Sweetbutt. Something. Either way, you’re leverage.”
Kath’s mind spun.
They thought she was connected to the club through Bear. They had no idea she was with Chase—Mason’s son. If they found out...
She kept her face blank, heart hammering so hard she was sure they could hear it.
The tall one stood up, brushing dust off his jeans. “Sit tight. You behave, maybe you get to walk out of this. You don’t...” He shrugged. “Well. Mason’s got a lot to answer for.”
He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him. The lock clicked loudly, echoing in her head. The understanding that she wasn’t free, couldn’t run away, had to play whatever kind of surface game they forced on her.
Forced on me. Kath’s heart started pounding as she lay there, staring at the ceiling, head throbbing, fear clawing up her throat.
They didn’t know Chase was Mason’s son. Didn’t know they were connected.
But if they kept her long enough...they would.
And she had no idea what they’d do when they found out.
***
Chase
Chaos erupted the moment the Rebels arrived.
Bear’s truck had barely stopped when four more bikes and another car roared up behind it. Patched members poured into the house like a storm—Slate, Hurley, and three others Chase didn’t know well. Voices overlapped instantly, loud and commanding, all of them talking at once.
“Where was the bike parked? Was it in the usual place or somewhere different?” “When’s the last time you saw her?” “Show us her room. Now.” “Any security cameras? Ring doorbell? Anything?”
Chase stood in the middle of it, head spinning. The questions came too fast. Everyone wanted answers at the same time. He tried to respond, but his voice kept getting drowned out. The room felt too small, too loud, too much like the night they’d told him about his mother.
Then Bear’s voice cut through everything like a gunshot.
“Enough!”
The room went dead silent.
Bear stepped forwards, massive frame cutting through the cluster of men, and pulled Chase into a crushing hug. One big hand clamped on the back of his neck, holding him steady.
“We’re gonna find her, son,” Bear said, low and fierce, right against his ear. “You hear me? We’re on this. Breathe. We need your head clear.”
Chase nodded against Bear’s shoulder, the tight band around his chest loosening just enough to let air in. Bear gave him one last squeeze, then turned and started directing traffic with calm authority, giving Chase space to think.
That’s when Chase noticed Maudie.
She had faded all the way back into the kitchen, back pressed hard against the wall like she was trying to disappear into it. Her face was pale. Eyes wide. She wasn’t yelling. She wasn’t asking questions. She looked...terrified. Not just worried about her sister—haunted.
Chase’s stomach twisted. She must have had a bad history with bikers. Really bad.
He moved towards her slowly, hands open at his sides. “Maudie...I know this looks insane. But these guys—they’re the best at this. If anyone can find Kath, it’s them. I swear.”
Maudie’s gaze flicked from him to the leather cuts filling her living room, then back. Her voice came out small. “You’re with them? Like...actually with them?”
Chase hesitated. He tried to downplay it. “It’s complicated. My dad—”
Bear caught his eye from across the room and nodded slowly. Tell her.
Chase swallowed. “Mason is the club president. I’m his son. I didn’t want any of this to touch Kath. That’s why I’ve been quiet. I was trying to keep her safe.”
Maudie’s expression shifted from fear to fury in a heartbeat.
“You brought this to my sister?” she hissed. “Your club shit put her in danger?”
She lunged at him.
Chase didn’t move. He wouldn’t hit her—not ever. But before she could reach him, one of the younger patched members—a guy named Stewart—wrapped strong arms around her from behind, lifting her feet off the floor.
“Easy, darlin’,” Stewart said, voice surprisingly gentle. “We’re here to help. Fighting each other won’t bring her back.”
Maudie struggled for a second, then went still, breathing hard.
Bear stepped closer. “Myron’s already working. Best tech guy we’ve got access to, hands down. He’s pulling tower pings from every cell in the area around the time she disappeared. We’ll have the first solid hit any minute.”
As if on cue, Bear’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then looked up.
“We’ve got movement,” he said. “Myron’s got a hit. We’re rolling.”
The Rebels moved like water—fast, coordinated, and gone in under thirty seconds. The house suddenly felt too quiet.
Chase and Maudie stood there, staring at each other across the empty living room. Her eyes were red, furious, and terrified all at once.
Then Chase whirled.
He sprinted out the front door, boots pounding down the stairs and was about to throw himself in the truck when Bear caught his eye.
The older man shook his head slightly and went back to barking orders.
Chase paced, impatient to get going as fear ate at him.
When the others finally peeled away from Kath’s house, he moved.
The engine roared to life. He didn’t even buckle up before he slammed it into gear and tore away from the curb, tires screeching.
He drove twenty over the limit the entire way to the clubhouse, heart in his throat, one single thought repeating in his head like a drumbeat.
Hold on, Kath. I’m coming.
***
Maudie
Maudie had followed Chase out and now stood on the porch, arms wrapped tightly around herself, heart hammering as the clubhouse descended on her quiet street like a storm. The roar of engines filled the air—deep, guttural, dozens of them—until the whole block seemed to tremble.
Chase was still there, pacing near his truck, face pale and drawn with barely contained panic. He kept glancing at the house like he could will Kath to appear. Maudie’s guilt twisted sharper at the sight of him. This was his world. His people. And somehow her sister had been pulled into it.
The brothers moved with terrifying efficiency.
A man named Bear barked orders, another called Slate coordinated from the center of the pack, and bikes were already lumbering into motion.
Then she saw Stewart—the same man who had grabbed her earlier, strong arms locking around her when she’d tried to lunge at Chase in her terror and rage.
He was the last to mount up, swinging a leg over his bike with calm purpose before glancing back towards the porch.
Their eyes met for a brief second. His gaze was steady, concerned, carrying the same quiet strength he’d shown when he’d held her back. He gave her a single, small nod—she imagined it meant “We’ve got this”—before twisting the throttle and pulling out to join the formation.
The pack surged forwards in a thunderous wave of chrome and leather, peeling out into the night. Chase watched them go for one frozen heartbeat, then leapt in his truck, slamming the door and roaring after them without a backwards glance.
Maudie sank onto the porch steps as the sound faded, the sudden silence pressing down on her like a weight.
Tears burned hot in her eyes. She had failed Kath again and again—ignoring the dangers at home, pushing her away when she needed support most. And now her little sister was out there somewhere because she’d gotten close to Chase.
“Please,” Maudie whispered into the empty dark, voice breaking. “Bring her home. Please.”
She hugged her knees to her chest, the night air suddenly cold against her skin. If they brought Kath back—when they brought her back—things were going to change. No more hiding behind bottles and denial. No more letting fear rule them.
She owed her sister that much. And maybe, just maybe, there was room in this terrifying new world for her too.