Chapter Twenty-Eight
THE CLUBHOUSE WAS quiet in the mornin’, the kind of still that settles after a storm, or right before one rips through. I dropped onto the couch with a grunt, half-full bottle hangin’ from my hand. Hadn’t even cracked it yet. Just holdin’ it like maybe the burn inside would think for me.
Gearhead was loungin’ against the pool table, boots up like he paid rent on the damn place. Chain had his throne in the armchair, knife flippin’ lazy between his fingers, eyes trackin’ the blade like it was spellin’ secrets only he could read.
“Somethin’ die in your bed last night, Thunder?” Gearhead drawled, not even botherin’ to look up.
“Yeah,” Chain added with a smirk, “your pride?”
I gave ’em both a long, flat stare. “Go fuck yourselves.”
Gearhead clutched his chest, mock wounded. “Touchy. Must’ve been real bad.”
“Or real good ‘til you screwed it up,” Chain shot back.
I let out a sharp breath through my nose. “Leena happened.”
That got their attention. Chain’s smirk sharpened, Gearhead actually set his boots down.
“She showed up in my office last night,” I went on, jaw tight. “Didn’t knock. Climbed straight into my lap. And right when I was about to throw her ass off…”
“Sable walked in.” Chain finished it for me, his grin all teeth.
“Yup.”
Gearhead whistled low. “Jesus, brother. You finally catch feelin’s for a girl who don’t know how this world works, and Leena slithers in like a damn snake.”
Chain chuckled. “Gotta say, if I ever pictured Thunder in a love triangle, I figured you’d come out shirtless, smug as hell, not sittin’ here starin’ at a bottle like a bad country song.”
“Funny,” I muttered, but I didn’t mean it.
Gearhead leaned forward, voice droppin’ down. “You’re really into her.”
Didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the label in my hand like it might give me words I didn’t wanna say.
Finally, I exhaled. “She’s not just beautiful.
She’s… different. Strong as hell. Been through shit that’d break most people, but she still carries it like it’s hers alone.
I’d bleed for her, no question. And that ain’t me. Not ever.”
The room went quiet. Even Chain stopped spinnin’ his blade.
After a beat, he asked quiet, “She pushin’ you away?”
“Won’t talk to me. Not really. Tried explainin’ last night, she shut down. Doesn’t trust it. Doesn’t trust me. Thinks it was pity or lust, they pounded that stupid shit in her head.”
Gearhead shook his head. “That ain’t rejection. That’s fear. She’s scared if she believes you, it’ll hurt worse when you prove her wrong.”
Chain set his knife aside, surprising me with his serious tone. “She’ll come around. If she’s as strong as you say, she won’t stay locked up forever.”
“Feels like I’m holdin’ on to somethin’ that don’t wanna be held,” I muttered.
Gearhead snorted. “Never thought I’d see the day, Thunder, breaker of hearts, sittin’ here broke over one woman.”
Chain cracked a grin. “Next thing, you’ll be tradin’ your cut for a fuckin’ diaper bag.”
I snorted. “Say that again, I’ll bury you in one.
They laughed, but it was easy this time. Familiar. Remindin’ me that no matter how twisted things got, my brothers were there. Didn’t change the fact that she was in that house, hurtin’, and I couldn’t reach her.
But Chain was right. Strong women don’t stay quiet forever.
***
I WAS STILL sittin’ at the table, elbows grindin’ grooves into the wood, when my phone lit up. Sable’s name. My gut went tight. She wouldn’t call unless it was bad.
I snatched it up. “Yeah, darlin’?”
Her voice came through tight, panicked. “Zara’s gone.”
The world tilted. “What do you mean gone?”
“I—I stepped away. Just for a few minutes. Malik was supposed to be watching her. She was playing out front and now she’s not there.”
I was already movin’. “Lock the doors. Stay inside. I’ll be there in five.”
I ended the call and roared over my shoulder. “CHAIN! GEAR! Get your asses movin’, Zara’s missin’!”
The clubhouse snapped alive like a struck match. Boots hit floors, engines roared, brothers spillin’ out the doors.
By the time I hit the house, Sable was barefoot in the gravel, spinnin’ frantic circles like she could summon Zara outta thin air. Hunter stood nearby, pale as death.
“I just stepped inside for water,” he stammered. “One damn minute, Thunder, I swear—”
I ignored him, grabbed Sable’s shoulders. “We’re gonna find her. Look at me. We’re gonna find her.”
“She had her yellow ball,” she whispered, her voice breakin’. “She was laughing, and then she was just… gone.”
Her eyes were glassy, wide. She looked hollow.
“Malik’s inside?”
She nodded.
“Good. Stay with him. Let me do this.”
I pulled back and scanned the yard. No footprints. No tire marks. Just silence thick enough to choke on.
The brothers rolled in, engines cuttin’ sharp. They spread out fast, fanning into the woods, shoutin’ her name.
“Zara!”
“Little one, where you at?”
Her name echoed, got swallowed by the trees. The woods loomed darker than they had any right to be, shadows pooling under the pines like they’d been waitin’ for a child to step into ’em.
I pushed deeper, branches scratchin’ at my arms, every shout rippin’ my throat raw.
“ZARA!”
Nothin’.
And then—like it slid through the cracks of my skull—I heard a voice. Not hers. Not mine. A man’s. From another lifetime.
“Don’t cry when they take you.”
I stumbled to a stop, chest heaving. The words were dust and ash in my head, carryin’ the weight of firelight and shadows I’d buried years ago.
I didn’t know whose voice it was. Didn’t wanna know.
But the dread it left in my chest was the same one I felt now, deep, suffocatin’, like the world could split open and swallow a child whole.
I forced it back. Shoved it down. Kept movin’.
Minutes stretched like hours. Every empty bush felt like a grave. My fists clenched tighter with each step.
Then the radio crackled.
Horse’s voice, muffled, calm: “Got somethin’. Out near the big hickory, fifty yards past the west tree line. She’s here. Shaken, but okay.”
Relief hit so hard my knees damn near gave.
I ran. Didn’t think, didn’t breathe. Just ran.
Zara was crouched against the base of the tree, dirt smeared on her hands, eyes wide and wet. Horse was kneelin’ beside her, talkin’ calm, his cut spread over her shoulders like a shield.
The second she saw me, she bolted. Arms locked around my neck, sobs shakin’ her tiny body.
“I’m sorry,” she hiccupped. “I didn’t mean to get lost. I thought—I thought I heard someone say my name. It sounded nice. I followed it… and then I couldn’t find my way back.”
Ice slid down my spine.
Someone called her.
I looked at Horse. His jaw was tight, eyes already on the treeline like he wanted to burn the woods to the ground.
This wasn’t a kid wanderin’ off.
I held her tighter. “You’re okay now, baby girl. Nothin’s ever gonna hurt you. Not while I’m breathin’.”
Back at the house, Sable collapsed to her knees the second Zara was in sight. Pulled her in, kissed her face over and over, cryin’ so hard she shook.
I gave ’em space. But I didn’t stop watchin’. Didn’t stop thinkin’ about that voice, hers, mine, or the one buried deep in my past.
And when Sable looked up at me, eyes red and desperate, her voice broke on my name. “Zeke… I can’t do this alone. Not anymore.”
“You’re not,” I said. “You’re comin’ back to the clubhouse with me.”
She nodded, no fight left in her. And under all the fear, there it was.
The first flicker of real trust.