Chapter 6
REV
Itook my time heading into Kane’s office, trying to shake off the protective frustration burning beneath my skin. I hadn’t wanted to leave Delaney alone—every damn cell in my body was straining to get back to her so I could keep her safe and close. But the text Kane sent left no room for delay.
When I walked into his office, I found the prez behind his massive walnut desk, leaning back in his chair, his green eyes watching my approach.
Jax leaned against the far wall with a tablet in hand, a thoughtful scowl already deepening his expression, while his black-rimmed glasses reflected the brightness of the screen.
Nitro stood near the window, and Edge occupied his usual chair, casually flipping a knife between his fingers, the sharp blade flashing rhythmically under the overhead light.
My eyes flicked briefly to Apex, our newly appointed treasurer, and I nodded, a dry smirk tugging at my mouth as I dropped into the empty chair beside Edge.
“Well, shit,” I drawled, eyeing Apex. “Looks like someone’s moving up in the world.”
He grinned at me, leaning back comfortably as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Bullshit. Was just waiting for you assholes to realize I was always the better choice.”
Nitro snorted softly, and Edge chuckled, shaking his head with dry amusement.
Despite his short time as a Redline King, Apex fit into the room easier than most new patches because he’d already been part of the machinery behind the Redline Holdings and the Kings for years.
Before officially patching in, he’d worked as a forensic accountant and race finance strategist, specializing in the kind of quiet financial intelligence work that made dirty money panic when he started digging.
He’d worked with professional racing teams, wealthy investors, and underground circuits long before Kane brought him fully into the fold.
The truth was, Tire had already trusted him unofficially for years—using him to audit sponsorship structures, trace missing funds, identify leaks, and clean up vulnerabilities before they became problems.
Apex followed financial trails the same way I followed physical ones, both of us hunting patterns most people never even realized existed.
By the time Tyre started to prep for the move to California, there’d only been one man he trusted enough to hand the Florida chapter’s finances over to.
The prospect period had mostly been a formality.
Apex already knew sensitive club operations, had protected the Kings financially more than once, and had proven his loyalty repeatedly before he ever wore the cut.
Honestly, he’d already been a brother long before the patch made it official.
Kane sat forward slightly, his expression in its perpetual scowl as he folded his hands on his desk, focusing the room’s attention. “Let’s get to it.”
I leaned forward, the easy humor fading quickly from my face as I dove straight into business. “Know Jax and Nitro already started digging into what we have so far. Apex, I’m assuming Kane brought you up to speed?”
Apex nodded, his gaze serious now, locked onto mine. “Yeah. I’m caught up.”
“Good.” I got right to the heart of it. “Talked to Delaney this morning. You won’t believe the shit we’re up against.”
I laid it all out for them—her abduction, the basement in the old church, waking up dressed in historical garments, the restrained wrists, and the terrifying sight of another dead woman arranged nearby.
I detailed everything carefully, leaving nothing out.
I described the setup, the deliberate arrangement of their bodies, the historical references Delaney had noted.
All of it painted an unsettling picture.
When I finished, Edge’s knife had stilled between his fingers.
Nitro’s jaw was set tight, and his arms were folded like he was holding back something violent beneath his carefully contained demeanor.
Kane’s expression had hardened into something lethal and unyielding, but he didn’t speak yet, just nodded as he absorbed every detail.
“Planning to head back to the crash site when we’re done.” Tension bunched my shoulders. “Start piecing together her escape and see what I can find that will help me profile Magnus.”
Jax inclined his head, his eyes glinting with lethal intent. “I’ll start digging deeper into him and the university connection. Digital trails, communication records, background. Anything useful.”
Apex leaned forward, his expression thoughtful, already turning over angles. “Gonna follow the financial paths tied to the preservation department, grants, shell companies, and whatever else that’s related. If there’s a money trail, I’ll find it.”
“Send me everything you get as soon as you have it,” I told them, knowing they’d both do exactly that.
This was how we operated. We each had our own area of expertise, honed to perfection over the years.
Jax would handle data patterns, digging into digital histories and uncovering every scrap of intel buried deep.
Like Tyre used to do, Apex would trace anything suspicious hidden in the finances.
Cage handled the medical and physical evidence from Delaney.
Several other brothers would be tasked to help hunt this psycho in their areas of expertise as well.
My lane was tracking the human side—behavioral reconstruction, tactical pursuit, and reading predators who believed they were smarter than everyone else.
Military recon had trained me to study patterns, track movements, and hunt people down.
Now, it was second nature, and I used those skills whenever the club needed them.
Kane’s gaze held mine steadily as he spoke again. “Whatever we find, we’re going to handle it thoroughly. Someone went after what’s ours—there will be consequences.”
Everyone knew better than to fuck with the Redline Kings.
If someone was stupid enough to try, they’d be crushed into oblivion.
Figuratively and occasionally literally.
Delaney’s captor had unknowingly sealed his fate in a manner worse than he could ever expect.
There would be no arrest, no trial, and no life-in-prison option.
He’d touched a Redline Kings’ woman, and now he’d face justice our way.
The fact I didn’t meet her until after didn’t matter—she’d been mine all along.
When we finished discussing the initial plans, I pushed myself out of the chair, the urgency to get back to Delaney already tightening my chest. My patience was stretched thin, and every instinct drove me toward her again.
But I had shit to do before I could give in to my desire to be with her, which was overridden by the need to protect her.
“Keep me updated.” Kane’s eyes carried a flash of understanding as he watched me move toward the door.
“Will do.”
The crisp night air washed over me as we roared down the backroads leading toward the spot where I’d found Delaney. Fury and Shifter rode with me, their headlights slicing through the darkness as the road opened ahead.
I was driven by adrenaline and the relentless determination to uncover every piece of information I could find.
Yet, despite my single-minded focus, Delaney persisted at the edges of my awareness.
It was impossible to push away the image of her curled in my bed, vulnerable and trusting, or the heat that rushed through me every damn time I remembered holding her.
When we reached the stretch of road, I parked my bike near the edge of the tree line, killed the engine, and swung off smoothly.
My brothers fell into place around me as we carefully scanned the area.
The moonlight was faint, casting a pale silver glow across the overgrown brush and muddy terrain, illuminating the scuff marks and shallow tracks left behind.
I traced Delaney’s movements through the scrubby brush.
Her footprints were uneven. Blood smeared faintly in places, marking where branches and rough ground had scraped and cut her feet through the thin slippers.
I could almost visualize her desperate sprint toward freedom—stumbling, recovering, and pushing herself forward despite pain, drugs, and exhaustion.
My anger climbed at the thought of her running alone through this rough terrain, desperate and terrified.
I was able to follow her deep into the woods, but eventually her footprints were obscured by another set.
His prints were heavier, with evidence of confidence and control in his stride.
He’d moved steadily, closing the distance consistently as Delaney faltered, likely under the influence of the drugs he’d used to knock her out.
My gut tightened as I visualized it clearly.
Under normal circumstances, Delaney might’ve outrun him easily—she was clearly in good physical shape.
But barefoot and drugged, she’d barely stood a chance.
I tracked until we reached another road and spotted the van.
It was still abandoned where Magnus had left it, one tire obviously flat and partially shredded.
The rim of the spare was bent just enough so he couldn’t put it on.
Dirt and gravel had been kicked up around the vehicle, tire marks defined in the mud.
I pulled out my phone and made a quick call.
Gauge answered immediately. “What you got?”
“Found the van,” I told him flatly. “Around three miles south of the bridge on Hopewell Road. Get it towed back to The Pit. I want every inch examined.”
“Done,” Gauge replied smoothly. “We’ll handle it.”
I ended the call and stared at the scene a moment longer, piecing the entire chase together. Magnus had clearly been delayed by the tire iron to the head, giving Delaney those precious extra seconds to run. But he’d still managed to close that distance.