Chapter 31
Heresy
Waking up to the soft glow of dawn creeping through the blinds, I reached out, half-asleep, expecting to feel Salem’s warmth next to me. But my hand hit cold sheets instead. My eyes snapped open, and I sat up quick. The bed was empty, and her side was already cold—she’d been gone for a while.
“Salem?” I mumbled, still groggy, rubbing my face, trying to shake off the sleep. I figured she was in the bathroom or in the kitchen making coffee. But everything was too damn quiet. That pit in my gut started twisting tighter.
I swung outta bed, yanked on my jeans, and checked the place—every room, every corner. Bathroom? Empty. Kitchen? Nothing. Shop downstairs? Dead quiet. She was gone, no note, no sign. Just gone.
That panic, the kind you can’t shake, started crawling up my spine. I grabbed my phone, dialed her number. It rang once, twice, then straight to voicemail.
“Fuck!” I slammed my fist into the counter. The sharp pain shot through my hand, but it didn’t do shit to calm me down.
Where the hell could she be?
Maybe she just needed some space, I told myself, but even that didn’t sit right. Salem wouldn’t just up and disappear like that. My gut was screaming something was wrong.
Last night was fucking… magical. After the couch, I took her to my bed, and we were up all night, not just fucking, making love. Not just that, talking. Really talking. At some point she made sure I had her number.
Without thinking much more, I jumped on my Harley, the engine roaring to life as I tore outta there, heading straight for the Hell on Heelz clubhouse.
The Roost was buzzing with the usual chatter, bikes lined up in the lot like always, even hers. All I cared about was finding Salem. I stormed inside, my eyes scanning the room for anyone who could tell me where the hell she was.
Brat noticed me first, leaning against the bar with that familiar cocky grin of hers. “Heresy, what the hell brings you here this early?”
“Where’s Salem?” I barked, my voice rougher than I planned. “She was with me this mornin’. Now she’s gone. Has she come back here?”
The smirk faded from Brat’s face, replaced with something more serious. “I ain’t seen her since the party. And I already checked her place. What’s goin’ on?”
I muttered a curse under my breath, my pulse pounding. “Somethin’s wrong. She’s not answerin’ her phone.”
Brat crossed her arms, eyebrow raised. “You sure she ain’t just blowin’ off some steam?”
“Don’t know,” I snapped, running a hand through my hair, frustration rolling off me.
“Look Pixie’s gone running errands, maybe she rode along.”
“Without her Harley?”
“Girl can handle herself. Maybe she doesn’t want to run into you.”
“But she’s pregnant.”
That shut everyone up real quick. The chatter in the room died, all eyes turning to me. Brat’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Wait—what? You knocked up Salem?”
I didn’t hang around for the reactions. I was already headed for the door, back on my bike, my frustration growing as I tried to figure out where the hell she could’ve gone. If she didn’t come back here, then where?
I rode through Seville, clueless, not even knowing where to start searching for her. By the time I pulled up to my shop again, my head was spinning with every worst-case scenario imaginable. Nothing made sense, and that gnawing feeling in my gut wouldn’t quit. But there was something else.
Brat’s words haunted me. Salem could handle herself and maybe she was avoiding me. All I could do was open up the shop and try to keep myself busy, hoping she’d walk through the door.
The hours passed painfully slow, each minute feeling like a dagger in my heart. By closing time, I was done waiting. I called the Roost, and no one had seen her, not even her friends. Heelz were out looking. Something was seriously wrong. I hopped back on my Harley, gunning it toward the Lair, hoping Riptide could help.
Pulling up, I spotted Prez outside, pacing like he always did when shit was about to go down. His brow furrowed as I approached.
“Heresy, what’s goin’ on?”
“I need your help, man,” I said, my voice thick with desperation. “Salem’s gone. No one’s seen her, and she ain’t answerin' her phone.”
“That Heel you knocked up?” Riptide asked, blowing out a puff of smoke.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“Cutter’s been runnin’ his mouth.” His expression darkened.
“She was patched in last night, and now she’s vanished. Her Harley’s setting cold.”
“I’ve heard. Rage called asking me twenty questions. You got any enemies I don’t know about?” Prez asked, narrowing his eyes, his thoughts echoing my worst fears. Someone had her.
“You think Cutter’s got somethin’ to do with this?” The idea hit me like a brick, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Cutter had been stirring up trouble in the club, crossing lines lately. If anyone was reckless enough to pull something like this, it’d be him.
Riptide exhaled, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Wouldn’t surprise me. He’s been sniffin’ around Brat, causin’ all kinds of shit. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
My fingers curled. I would kill him. “Son of a bitch.”
Riptide cursed under his breath. “We gotta talk to Rage. If Cutter’s behind this, things are gonna get ugly fast.”
I frowned. “You knew all along about me and Salem?”
Riptide shrugged. “I know about the pact too. Cutter’s crossin' into mutiny territory with his shit. It’s a power play. He’s tryin' to put the whole damn club’s alliance with the Gods at risk.”
I hadn’t thought much about it, not the broader picture. But Riptide was right—Cutter was a snake.
“His trying to get all you boys against me. You swore your allegiance. Didn’t know if I could trust you anymore.”
There wasn’t time to explain to him that Cutter had all his members threatening death if we go along with his truce. That was a conversation for another time. “Look, I’m claimin’ Salem. Officially. And I’m gonna be a father,” I said, my voice hard, letting him know where I stood.
Riptide smirked, smacking my shoulder. “Love’s in the air, huh?”
He called Rage, and we hit the road together, riding out, the tension between us heavy. Salem was missing, and every second that passed without her was driving me deeper into a fury.
We pulled up at the Roost, where Rage and Brat were already waiting. Riptide wasted no time.
“Rage, we got a problem,” he said, his tone deadly serious. “One of my guys—Cutter—might’ve gone rogue. We think he’s got Salem.”
Rage’s eyes darkened, her face a mask of well… rage. “You sayin’ one of your boys took one of my girls?”
Riptide nodded, his jaw tight. “I didn’t sanction this. Cutter’s gone off the rails, and he’s gonna pay for it.”
Brat stepped forward, her voice rough with frustration. “Where is she?”
“Scanner just said there’s smoke coming from that old haunted house outside town,” Rage spat. “I didn’t think it was related until now. Just the kinda place Cutter would think no one’d come lookin’.” Rage’s face darkened even more. “We’re ridin’ out. Now.”
Brat’s face twisted with anger. “I’m coming too.”
Riptide put a hand on her shoulder. “Stay here. Let us handle this.”
“No fucking way,” Brat snapped. “I’m not staying behind while one of my girls is out there.”
Riptide sighed. “Alright, but this is on me. Looks like I need to clean house.”
I revved my engine, Rage, Brat, and Riptide beside me. Cutter had no idea what was coming for him. By the time I found him, he was gonna regret ever laying a hand on Salem.