Chapter 2 #2
“Explain what? It seemed pretty self-explanatory. Push killed them.” The air in the room shifted. Push pushed off the wall near the door slowly, his stare locked onto me hard enough to make my pulse jump.
Anchor’s jaw tightened slightly. “We didn’t kill him.”
I shifted my gaze to Anchor and searched his face hard.
People lied to me for a living, and I knew tells.
Avoiding eye contact, overexplaining, and aggression.
Anchor did none of those things. He just looked tired, frustrated, and deeply annoyed that I existed, which tracked with every interaction we’d had so far.
“You expect me to believe that?” I asked quietly.
“Yes.” The immediate answer threw me. No hesitation or defensive rambling. Just yes.
The older man looked between us. “Well,” he muttered dryly, “this feels like a conversation I don’t need to be a part of. I think I’ll just get out of here, Anchor.”
Anchor nodded. “Lost will meet you with your payment, Doc.”
Doc nodded, grabbed a rickety bag off the floor, and headed to the large metal door. That’s when I noticed there were other people there other than Push, Anchor, and Doc. There were two other guys, whose names I didn’t know, but I had seen them when I first came to the clubhouse.
Silence stretched tightly between us and my head pounded harder. I pressed trembling fingers carefully against my temple. “What happens now?” I asked quietly.
Anchor looked at me for a long moment. And for the first time since waking up, genuine unease crawled down my spine. Because he looked like a man making calculations, not about whether I mattered, but what the hell they were supposed to do with me now.
“You can’t leave.”
My eyes snapped to the door.
Push was still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. The harsh overhead light caught the sharp angles of his face and the dark ink disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. He looked solid enough to stop a truck with his bare hands.
“What?” I asked.
“You heard me,” Push said calmly.
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. It sounded slightly hysterical, which felt fair considering my current situation. “You people cannot seriously think you’re just going to keep me down here.”
“Not down here,” Anchor corrected.
“Oh, good. That makes the kidnapping way less creepy.”
A guy snorted from somewhere near the back wall.
Anchor ignored both of us. “You saw something you weren’t supposed to.”
“I saw a dead body!”
“Exactly.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “And your solution is what? Hold me hostage?”
Anchor rubbed a hand over his jaw like this conversation was exhausting him. “My solution is making sure you don’t go running straight to the cops while we’ve got a killer dumping bodies on our island.”
“I already told you I don’t think you killed him.”
“No,” Anchor agreed. “But you don’t know enough not to make this situation worse.”
I opened my mouth immediately. “I wouldn’t-”
“You absolutely would,” Push cut in.
I glared at him. “Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Push pushed off the wall and took a few slow steps closer. Not aggressive exactly, but close enough that I became very aware of how large he was. “McKayla,” he said evenly, “you got spooked enough to crack your head open trying to get away from me.”
Okay, fair, still rude though.
“That was before I woke up in the biker catacombs,” I muttered.
The guy in the corner barked out a laugh this time.
“I’m going to need to know that guy’s name since he thinks I’m a comedian.”
“Piney,” he grunted. “You’re a firecracker.”
I rolled my eyes. That wasn’t the first time I had been called something like that. “Thanks.”
The corner of Push’s mouth twitched slightly before disappearing again.
Anchor pointed at me. “See? This right here is why you’re not leaving.”
“What does my sarcasm have to do with anything?”
“It means you’re not going anywhere because you’ll probably joke about seeing a dead body with the Kings of Anarchy,” Anchor said. “Which means eventually someone is going to believe you. You’re not leaving here.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No,” three different voices answered at once.
I blinked.
Wow.
That was annoying.
“I’m a private investigator,” I snapped. “I’ve handled dangerous situations before and I can handle this one. I just want to find my sister.”
“Not like this,” Push said quietly.
Anchor crossed his arms. “You promised you wouldn’t go to the cops.”
“Because I won’t.”
He stared at me.
I stared back, but the worst part? Deep down, I didn’t even believe myself. Because if I walked out of there and found even one shred of evidence that Erin had been hurt on that island, I would absolutely go to the police.
Anchor seemed to read that realization right off my face. “Yeah,” he said flatly. “That’s what I thought.”
Frustration burned through me. “You can’t just keep me here.”
Anchor tilted his head slightly. “Is there anybody looking for you?”
The question hit harder than it should have. I opened my mouth automatically, then stopped. Because no, not really. My parents were gone. I didn’t exactly have a long list of close friends checking in on me every day.
All I’d had was Erin, and now she was missing.
Anchor’s expression shifted. Not pity, just understanding, which somehow felt worse.
I looked away first. “That’s none of your business,” I muttered.
“No,” Anchor agreed quietly. “But it answers my question.”
Nobody said anything after that.
God, I hated this. I hated that part of me was starting to realize these men might actually be trying to protect me.
Push spoke before I could spiral any further. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you here.”
My eyes lifted back to him automatically.
His voice was rough like gravel, but steady.
I crossed my arms carefully against the ache in my body. “That’s easy for you to say.”
“It’s true.”
“According to who?”
“According to me.” I hated how steady that sounded. Push stepped a little closer, not enough to crowd me, just enough that I could see the tension sitting in his shoulders. “You’ll stay in the clubhouse,” he said. “Pearl and Shay are there. You won’t be alone.”
I frowned slightly. “The other women?”
He nodded once.
“You’ll have a room. Food. You’ll be comfortable.”
I blinked at him. Was he seriously trying to make involuntary biker captivity sound like a vacation package?
“That is a very weird sales pitch,” I informed him.
Piney laughed again.
Push ignored him completely. “You’ll be watched,” he said bluntly. “But nobody’s gonna hurt you.”
Still suspicious. Still terrifying, but somehow not nearly as terrifying as I thought they’d be after I woke up underground with a concussion.
I swallowed hard. “And why exactly should I believe that you’re not just going to kill me?”
Push held my gaze steadily. “Because,” he said calmly, “we’ve had plenty of chances to get rid of you since you set foot back on the island.”
A chill slid down my spine.
Anchor nodded once. “We’re not the ones making people disappear and killing them.”
The words hit like ice water.
My throat tightened instantly. I looked between them. “Then who the hell is doing it?”
I watched Anchor’s jaw flex.
Watched Piney look away.
Then Push glanced toward Anchor before looking back at me. “We’d all like to know the answer to that question, too.”