Chapter Four
Kath
Kath closed the front door behind her as quietly as she could, but the click still sounded too loud in the small house.
The living room smelled like stale cigarette smoke and cheap vodka.
The TV was on low, some reality show playing in the background, and Maudie was sprawled on the couch in an oversized hoodie, scrolling on her phone.
Kath hesitated in the doorway, still buzzing from the day. The red stockings felt ridiculous now, like armor she didn’t need at home. She set her helmet on the chair by the door and tried for casual.
“Hey. You’re home early.”
Maudie didn’t look up. “Yeah.”
Kath waited a beat, then crossed the room and dropped into the old armchair across from her sister. “I met someone today.”
That got a reaction. Maudie’s eyes flicked up, flat and unimpressed. “Another one?”
“Not like that.” Kath leaned forwards, elbows on her knees.
She couldn’t keep the small smile off her face.
“His name’s Chase. He plays guitar in this band—Occupy Yourself.
He knew the guy who built my bike. We just sat and talked.
For like an hour. He was different. Quiet.
Didn’t try to impress me or grab my ass or any of that shit. ”
Maudie snorted and looked back at her phone. “Sounds boring.”
Kath’s smile faltered. “He wasn’t boring. He was...God, he was real. Like he actually listened when I talked about music. Asked real questions. Didn’t make it weird.”
Silence.
Kath tried again, softer. “I don’t know, Maudie. It felt nice. First time in a long time that I didn’t feel like I had to have my guard all the way up.”
Maudie finally set her phone down, but her expression was cold. “That’s cute. Real cute. You meet some boy who follows you around on your fancy custom bike, and suddenly you’re all dreamy-eyed.”
“It’s not like that—”
“No?” Maudie sat up, eyes narrowing. “You know what it is like? You took three grand you had saved up—the money we could’ve used for a new fridge, or maybe a decent couch that doesn’t have springs poking through—and you blew it on that fucking motorcycle. Because you wanted it. Not us. You.”
Kath felt the words land like slaps. “It was my money, Maudie. I worked overtime for six months for that. You said you were fine with it.”
“I said that because you wouldn’t shut up about it!” Maudie’s voice rose. “Mom’s been gone for more than a year—off with some trucker asshole who probably doesn’t even remember her name by now—and you’re out here buying toys like we’re not barely keeping the lights on.”
Kath’s stomach twisted. “I pay my half of everything. Rent, groceries, utilities. I’ve never been late once. The bike was my thing. Something that makes me feel...free.”
“Free,” Maudie repeated bitterly. “Must be nice. While I’m stuck here working doubles at the bar so we don’t get evicted, you’re out playing biker chick and flirting with some musician who’ll probably fuck you and leave like the rest of them.”
The words stung worse than they should have. Kath stood up, fists clenched at her sides.
“You don’t know him.”
“I don’t need to,” Maudie shot back. “I know you. You get all excited about some guy, and suddenly nothing else matters. Just like Mom. Just like every other girl who thinks a pretty face and a loud engine means something real.”
Kath stared at her sister, the person who used to sneak her snacks and cover for her when their mom brought home the worst men. The person who now looked at her like she was the enemy.
“I’m not Mom,” Kath said quietly. “And I’m not you either.”
Maudie laughed, but it sounded hollow. “No shit. At least I know better than to trust some boy who smiles at me in a diner.”
Kath turned and walked down the hall before she said something she couldn’t take back. She closed her bedroom door, locked it, and leaned against it for a long moment, breathing hard.
Her eyes landed on the notebook sitting on her desk. She crossed the room, flipped it open, and started writing fast, the angry lines flowing like water from her pen.
She looks at me like I’m already gone
Like the bike, the boy, the dream—they’re all wrong
Says I’m just like her, chasing smoke and fire
But I’d rather burn bright than live cold and tired
Kath dropped the pen and stared at the words until they blurred.
She didn’t know if she’d ever see Chase again.
But with him, the idea of letting someone in didn’t feel like the stupidest thing she could do.
Instead, it felt brave.
***
Chase
The house was quiet when Chase woke up gasping, sheets tangled around his legs and his heart hammering like he’d just run a mile.
The dream had been the same one that kept coming back—dark rooms, muffled screams, his mother’s voice calling his name before it cut off into nothing.
He sat up, dragging a hand through his sweat-damp hair, trying to shake the images of blood and shadows.
The bedroom door creaked open softly. Eddie poked her head in, her robe pulled tight around her and a glass of water in one hand. She’d clearly been awake.
“Another one?” she asked gently, stepping inside without turning on the harsh overhead light. The hallway lamp cast a warm glow that made the room feel less like a trap.
Chase nodded, embarrassed. “Sorry if I woke you.”
Eddie sat on the edge of the bed and handed him the water. “You didn’t. I was reading. Bear’s still out in the garage tinkering with that bike—he gets restless when Mason calls.” She studied him for a moment, her expression kind but unflinching. “You want to talk about it?”
He took a long drink, the cool water helping ground him. “Same stuff. My mom. The things I overheard about how she, what she was...and, like, how she was ended.” He didn’t say the words—kidnapped, tortured, mutilated—but Eddie seemed to understand anyway.
She reached over and squeezed his shoulder, the touch maternal in a way that made his throat tighten.
“That’s a lot for anyone to carry, especially at your age.
You’re safe here, Chase. Bear and I’ve got your back.
The whole club does. And whatever nightmares come, they don’t get to win. You hear me?”
Chase managed a small, grateful smile. “Yeah. I hear you.”
Eddie stood, ruffling his hair like he was still a kid. “Try to get some more sleep. Tomorrow’s another day to build something better than what came before.”
She left the door cracked and the hall light on, just like she always did after these nights.
Chase lay back down, staring at the ceiling, the faint sounds of Bear working in the garage drifting through the house like a lullaby.
For the first time in a long while, the darkness felt a little less lonely.