Chapter 23 #2
She’s still alive.
I have a location.
This time, I get to show up before the grave.
“Catcher.” Riggs’ voice cuts through hard enough to drag me back. I turn and find his eyes fixed on the phone in my hand. He’s furious. I glance around at my brothers, all standing there ready for war after hearing the message. “Listen, the paramedics and cops are about two minutes out,” he says.
“Her dad’s alive?” I ask.
“At the moment,” Riggs says.
“Good.” My voice doesn’t sound like mine. Then, I start for the door, and Riggs follows. Outside, red and blue lights already flicker at the end of the street, and rain dots my face while I move through the yard, heading straight for my bike.
Riggs catches my arm hard. “Catcher.”
I turn on him. “Let. Go.”
“No.” The word cracks between us.
I step into him, chest heaving, every violent thing inside me clawing to get out. “We know where she is.”
“And you think you’re going alone?”
“I don’t give a fuck who comes with me.”
“That’s your problem.” Riggs’ tone is flat.
My hand curls into a fist. For one second, I’m close to swinging on my own president.
Riggs sees it and doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. “Hit me if it makes you feel better,” he says, voice low and deadly. “Then when you’re done, we’ll go get your woman back.” That lands, not soft or easy, but hard enough to matter.
“I’m not letting this happen again.”
“We will get her back,” he snaps. “You hear me?”
My jaw locks. “She’s pregnant with my kid.”
“I know.” Riggs steps closer, eyes burning now. “And that means you don’t get the luxury of losing your shit. We take care of this son of a bitch as a club.”
My breathing comes out rough while the sirens get louder and paramedics rush past us into the house.
Riggs never lets go of my arm. “We go back to the clubhouse, gear up, grab Robby, and call Easy.” His voice drops even harder. “You want her alive? Then stop acting like dying for her is the plan. Living long enough to bring her home is.”
That breaks through. Barely, but enough.
We ride back to the clubhouse like hell follows us. The compound is lit up when we pull in, every window blazing, lockdown back in full force. The lot is packed with bikes and trucks. Inside, the place hums with controlled chaos. Women move kids upstairs with bags and blankets.
Tequila stands near the bar, loading a magazine.
London is beside her with a handgun on the counter.
Pops sits at a table with a rifle across his knees and a cup of black coffee in front of him because he’s done this before and will do it again if asked.
His eyes lift to mine. No words. Just a nod—the kind that says go get her.
I head for the gun room first, grab an extra magazine and a backup piece. I move without thinking because thinking too hard puts Ruby back on that concrete floor in my head. Then I get Robby.
I unlock the deadbolt and kick the door open hard enough that it slams against the wall. Robby jerks upright from the bed, eyes wide, hair a mess, face drawn from weeks of fear, guilt, and stale clubhouse air. “What—” I cross the room before he can finish and grab him by the shirt.
He doesn’t fight. Smart.
I slam him into the wall anyway. “Time to pay for your sins.”
His face drains white so fast it looks painful. “No.”
“They took Ruby.”
The sound he makes is broken. It’s small, pathetic, the kind of noise a man makes when the truth finally gets its hands around his throat. “I didn’t—”
“Shut up.”
Tears fill his eyes. “They really took her?”
“And now we’re taking you.”
He starts shaking. “They’ll kill me.”
“Probably.”
“Please—”
I get in his face. “My woman is tied up somewhere because of you. My child is in danger because of you. Your father’s on an operating table because of you.” He sobs once. I feel nothing. Or maybe I feel too much, and it all looks like nothing now.
“I don’t wanna die today, man,” he whispers.
I drag him toward the door. “Death is a simple price for your sister’s life.
For the child she carries. Two for two. My life and your life for theirs.
” He stumbles beside me, half dragged, half walking.
“And you don’t get to choose who lives tonight,” I say, shoving him forward. “Because I choose them.”
Downstairs, the clubhouse goes quiet when I come through, dragging him.
Ruby’s mother isn’t here. She’s at the hospital with her husband.
Good. She shouldn’t see this. Robby sees the armed women, Pops with the rifle, the brothers waiting by the door, and whatever hope he had left dies right there in his eyes.
I throw him into the back of the van so hard he crashes into the metal floor.
He groans before I slam the doors and lock them from the outside.
Riggs, Wick, and Nova roll out first on bikes.
I climb into the van and grip the wheel.
Everest, Fender, and Kiwi line up behind me. The compound gates open, then we ride.
We roll out of the city and straight toward darkness.
The van hums under me, heavy and steady, while Robby shifts in back and mutters prayers I don’t care enough to hear.
Headlights cut through rain and night. Ahead, the brothers ride like shadows, red taillights glowing, cuts rippling in the wind.
Behind me, more thunder. This might be my last ride with them.
The thought comes quietly, not dramatic, just a fact.
I always figure if I go out, it’ll be bloody.
Some alley, some back road, my hands dirty, my heart empty, nobody losing much sleep over it except maybe the men wearing the same patch and my family.
I didn’t figure it would be like this, going to save a woman who gave me back my life, a baby I haven’t met yet, but already owns every beat of what’s left in my chest, brothers riding with me because they don’t know how not to.
Ruby makes me breathe again.
The Kings give me ground to stand on.
If tonight takes me, at least I got to feel alive before it does.
The city falls away behind us. Roads narrow, lights vanish.
The old fertilizer plant sits off River Road like a corpse left to rot with broken silos, collapsed metal roofing, fencing peeled back, concrete buildings with black windows, and rust crawling over everything.
The stench hits the second I step out of the van—decay, chemical rot, and old oil.
Several vehicles sit near the center yard with their headlights off, dark shapes against darker structures.
Men stand around them, armed and waiting.
Too many.
Doesn’t matter.
I open the back of the van and drag Robby out. He nearly folds.
“Walk.”
“I can’t.”
I slam him against the side panel hard enough to rattle the doors. “Grow some fucking balls.”
His eyes dart toward the men in the distance. “I don’t wanna die.”
We move forward after that, Riggs and Wick flanking me, Nova on the other side, the rest fanning out behind us.
The man who steps forward from the line looks exactly like the kind of bastard who mistakes flash for power.
Tall, broad, blond hair slicked back, a suit too expensive and bright for mud and rust, a gold watch catching what little light the night gives up, and polished shoes already sinking into grime.
He’s dressed like a man who needs the world to believe he owns it.
Then he speaks, “Well…” he says smoothly, “… look at what the Kings dragged in.”
The voice from the video.
Cold rage slides through me so fast it feels clean. “Show me, Ruby.”
He smiles as though this is entertainment. “Demanding?”
“Show me she’s alive.” For a second, only the wind moves through the broken metal. Then one of the men near a shattered doorway turns and jerks someone forward.
Ruby stumbles into the open with her hands tied, her mouth bruised, her hair hanging wild around her face. Her eyes find mine, and everything inside me cracks wide open so hard I taste metal at the back of my tongue.
“Garrett,” she murmurs. I take one step before half a dozen guns rise at once. Riggs’ hand cuts out beside me without him looking over.
I stop. Barely.
The blond bastard smiles wider. “Touching, ain’t it?”
“Let her go,” I say.
“As soon as debts are paid.”
Robby trembles beside me.
The man’s gaze slides to him and lingers.
“There’s the little thief.” Robby lowers his head.
The bastard laughs. “Look at him. Weeks with the Kings and still no spine.” The man’s eyes shift to Riggs.
“You’re this club’s president.” He tips his head as if he’s mocking respect.
“I’ve been watching you and your men, you know?
This could’ve all been avoided if you’d handed him over. ” He motions towards Robby.
“You sent men after a pregnant woman,” Riggs says. “That put you past negotiation.”
His smile slips a little. “Your man killed one of mine and injured another.”
“They touched what wasn’t theirs,” I growl.
His gaze cuts back to me. “And now I’m touching what’s yours.”
My finger tightens on the gun. Wick shifts beside me just enough to warn me off doing something stupid, but the bastard keeps talking because men like him love the sound of themselves.
“Robby owes me product and money. When he ran, I looked for leverage. Sister was obvious.” His eyes slide to Ruby. “Then your club stepped in, fucked shit up, and cost me face.”
“Sounds like you should’ve hired better men,” Nova says.
“Debts get paid,” he says. “Blood, money, bodies… doesn’t matter to me. I get what I’m owed.”
I step forward, dragging Robby with me. “Then shut the fuck up, and let’s get it done.”
Ruby’s eyes widen. “N-no.” Her voice breaks around the word, but I don’t look away from the man in front of me.
“My life,” I say.
Beside me, Robby straightens, not much, but enough to matter. “And mine,” he says, voice shaking. “For my sister.”