Chapter Seven
Chase
His truck rumbled to a stop two spots away from Kath’s bike, the loud exhaust announcing his arrival like it always did. He sat there for a second, hands still on the wheel, staring at the back door of the coffee shop like it might give him advice.
Don’t fuck this up.
He’d spent most of last night thinking about Kath. The sharp way she smiled when she was teasing him. The way her voice got softer when she talked about riding the bike and how it gave her freedom. The guarded look in her eyes that said she’d been hurt before.
He understood that expression better than he wanted to admit.
The back door to the coffee shop opened, and there she was—helmet under one arm, short platinum hair catching the afternoon sun, wearing black jean shorts, a white tank top, and those bold red stockings that shouldn’t have worked as well as they did.
She looked up, spotted his truck, and a small, genuine smile crossed her face.
Chase’s chest did something complicated.
He climbed out and met her halfway.
“You showed,” she said, tilting her head.
“You thought I wouldn’t?”
She shrugged, but her eyes were warm. “Guys say a lot of things. Actions matter more.”
“Fair.” He nodded towards the blue-and-white bike parked nearby. “You still up for that ride?”
“Only if you’re still okay riding behind a girl,” she said, a teasing edge in her voice.
Chase grinned. “That bike’s yours. I’m not dumb enough to argue with the owner about who drives their baby.”
Kath studied him for a long moment, like she was waiting for the catch. When it didn’t come, she nodded once.
“All right then. Let’s go.”
She swung a leg over the bike with practiced ease and handed him a spare helmet.
Chase settled in behind her, careful not to crowd her space.
The moment she brought the engine to life, the deep rumble vibrated through both of them.
He placed his hands lightly on her waist, respectful, ready to adjust if she needed him to.
“Hold on tighter if you want,” she called over her shoulder. “I ride like I mean it.”
Chase tightened his grip just enough. “I trust you.”
He felt her pause for half a second at the words, and then she pulled out of the lot, smooth and confident. The wind rushed past them as she opened the throttle, and Chase felt something loosen in his chest that had been tight for years.
They rode out of town, taking the winding back roads that ran along the river.
Kath handled the bike like it was part of her—leaning into the curves, accelerating at just the right moments.
Chase had ridden plenty of times behind other people, but this felt different.
He wasn’t just a passenger. He was riding with her.
After twenty minutes, she pulled off at a scenic overlook at a lake that most locals knew about but tourists rarely found. She killed the engine and they both sat for a moment in the sudden quiet, the bike ticking as it cooled.
Chase swung off and took his helmet off, running a hand through his hair. “That was incredible. You ride like you were born on it.”
Kath took her helmet off too, shaking out her hair. “Feels like the only time the world shuts up.” She leaned against the bike, looking out over the river. “Most men have huge egos when it comes to riding behind a girl.”
Chase said quietly, “My sense of self and self-worth isn’t tied to any kind of performance.” He grinned. “Except onstage, but I still think I’m a little different from the average Joe. I’m not most people.”
She glanced at him, searching his face. “No. You’re not.”
They stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the mid-afternoon sun warm on their skin.
Chase found himself talking without meaning to—about growing up with stories about a father he didn’t know, about suddenly being dropped into Mason’s world, about how music had become the one place he felt like he could breathe.
Kath listened. Really listened. Then she told him pieces of her own story.
She was open and transparent about her mom leaving and how that had hurt her.
About her sister Maudie trying to hold everything together, and about how the bike had been the first thing she’d bought just for herself in years.
When she went quiet, Chase stepped a little closer.
“I don’t know what this is yet,” he said honestly. “But I like talking to you. I like riding with you. And I’d really like to do it again.”
Kath looked up at him. For once, the walls behind her eyes seemed a little thinner.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I’d like that too.”
“Tomorrow?” he pressed.
She nodded. “Same bat-place, same bat-time?”
“Yeah,” he said softly.
They stayed at the overlook until the sun started to dip, talking about music and dreams and the things that scared them. When they finally climbed back on the bike to head home, Chase wrapped his arms around her waist a little more confidently.
Finally, fucking finally, he was looking out ahead of himself, and the future didn’t feel like something he had to survive alone. It felt like something he might actually want to share.
***
Kath
Kath watched Chase’s truck pull out of the employee parking lot behind The Grindhouse, giving him a small wave as he drove off.
She waited until his taillights disappeared around the corner before swinging her leg over the bike and restarting the engine.
The low rumble vibrated through her, steady and reassuring, as she buckled her helmet.
The ride home felt different already. Every shift of her weight, every gentle curve in the road reminded her of the time they’d just spent together—Chase riding behind her like the manifestation of a beautiful dream. No pressure, just easy company and the open road.
Wind rushed past her helmet, tugging loose strands of hair and carrying away some of the constant weight she carried.
For those precious miles, she felt lighter, freer, like the bike was carrying her towards something better instead of just away from the usual mess.
The memory of Chase’s quiet laugh when she aggressively accelerated into a smooth curve made her smile beneath the visor.
By the time she pulled into the driveway, the sun had dipped lower, bathing the tired little house in warm oranges and pinks. Kath felt different. Braver. Like maybe she could actually do this—carve out something that was just hers.
Inside, the house was blessedly empty. Maudie was apparently still at work, and there’d been a distinct lack of Tony for a few weeks now.
No loss on that one. Kath dropped her helmet on the table, grabbed a glass of water, and flopped onto the couch with her phone.
She hit the video call button before she could second-guess herself.
Emy answered on the second ring, her face lighting up the screen with a bright, curious grin. “Kath! You look all flushed. What did you do?”
“First, I want to know if you have time for a proper conversation.” Their last couple of calls had been rushed, each only sharing snippets of information before one or the other had to get off the phone.
“Yes, emphatically, and with a ‘hell yeah’ thrown in. I’m here for the long haul, bestie.”
“In that case,” Kath laughed, pushing her messy hair back, “I went for a real ride. With Chase riding behind me.” She bit her lip, unable to stop smiling.
“Emy, it was amazing. The wind, the way the bike felt with him riding with me, working with me instead of against me. I felt so damned free. For the first time in forever.”
Emy’s eyes widened with delight. “Tell me everything! Did he behave? Did you behave? I need details!”
Kath curled her legs under her, settling in as the words spilled out.
She told her about riding the back roads, the easy conversation shouted between the two riders, the patient way he’d waited whenever she needed to pull over.
Talking to Emy made the joy feel solid. Real.
Something she could hold on to when the world pressed back in.
***
Chase
Chase wiped grease from his hands with an old shop rag, the familiar scent of motor oil and Bear’s garage wrapping around him like a second skin.
He’d come out here after rehearsal to help Bear finish swapping out the shocks on one of the club’s bikes, but mostly because the quiet clink of tools and the low rumble of the radio helped him think.
Or overthink. He shook his head.
Bear straightened up from the workbench, wiping his own hands. “You’ve been quiet tonight, kid. Everything good with the band?”
Chase nodded, then shook his head. “Band’s great. Really great. That’s kind of the problem.”
Bear raised a bushy eyebrow and leaned against the truck. “Explain.”
Chase let out a slow breath and sat on the edge of the workbench. “A couple years ago, before OY was a real option, I told Mason I wanted to prospect. Patch into the RWMC. I thought that was what I was supposed to do. Be like him. Earn his respect the way everyone else does.”
Bear’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes softened a fraction. “And what happened?”
“I asked him straight up. He laughed. Told me to come back when I was eighteen.” Chase stared at the rag in his hands. “I was sixteen. It felt like a door slamming shut. Like he didn’t think I was ready...or maybe he didn’t want me in the club at all.”
Bear was quiet for a long moment. “Mason’s protective. Always has been. Especially with you.”
“Yeah. But then Benny and Vic pulled me into OY. And suddenly the music took over everything. Rehearsals, gigs, writing sessions...it felt like the first thing that was really mine. Not something I was doing to prove I belonged to the club or to my dad.” Chase looked up.
“Now I don’t want to patch in. At least not right now.
And I keep worrying that Mason’s going to be really pissed about it.
Like I chose the band over the club. Over him. ”
Bear studied him for a long beat, then gave a slow nod. “You talk to him about this?”
“I’ve been slow to reach that part of the process.” Chase swallowed. “I’m scared he’ll think I’m turning my back on him. On everything he built.”
Bear clapped a heavy hand on Chase’s shoulder. “Kid, Mason’s proud of you. He watches every show you play. Brags on you to the brothers when he thinks no one’s listening. The club will always be here. But you chasing your own path? That’s not turning your back. That’s growing up.”
Chase felt some of the knot in his chest loosen. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Thanks, Bear.”
Bear’s grin turned knowing. “And what about that girl on my old blue-and-white bike? You gonna tell me you met her, or we pretending I didn’t see you grinning like an idiot when I mentioned her name the other day?”
Chase felt heat crawl up his neck. “I met her. At the diner. We talked. She’s...different. Sharp. Funny. Rides like she was born on it. We went for a ride today, and I asked her to go for another ride tomorrow. She said yes.”
Bear chuckled, low and warm. “Good. You deserve something that makes you smile like that. Just don’t let her break your heart before you figure out how to tell your old man you’re still choosing music right now.”
Chase nodded, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “Working on it.”
Later that night, after almost everyone else had gone home, Chase found Benny alone in the small writing room at the back of Slate’s studio. Benny was strumming softly on an acoustic, eyes half closed, the way he did when a new song was trying to take shape.
Chase hovered in the doorway until Benny looked up.
“Got a minute?” Chase asked.
Benny set the guitar aside. “Always. What’s on your mind?”
Chase sat on the couch across from him, elbows on his knees. “So. I met a girl. Her name’s Kath. She rides one of Bear’s custom bikes, the blue-and-white one. We talked for a long time the other day when I rode with her. She’s...I don’t know. Different. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Benny’s grin was slow and knowing. “Slow down a little.” He patted the air with both hands. “The bike girl. Yeah, Bear mentioned something about that. You like her. Got more planned with her?”
“Yeah.” He dipped gaze for a moment. “Going on a ride again tomorrow. And with Kath, it’s more than like,” Chase admitted quietly.
“She gets it. The music. The feeling like you’re trying to figure out who you are when everyone already thinks they know.
She’s got her own shit going on—family stuff—but when we talk, it doesn’t feel heavy.
It feels...easy. Like I don’t have to be anyone except me. ”
Benny leaned back, studying him. “And that scares you.”
“A little.” Chase rubbed the back of his neck. “I spent so long thinking the club was supposed to be my thing. Then OY came along, and it took all my focus. Now there’s Kath...and I feel like everything’s all changing at once. I don’t want to mess it up. With her. With the band. With my dad.”
Benny was quiet for a moment, then said gently, “The deal is, you’ve got to learn to trust yourself.
I can guarantee you that you’re not the same kid who showed up here two years ago.
Even over the handful of months I’ve known you, you’ve grown into your own skin.
I can tell you honestly that the band needs you.
I need you. And if this girl makes you feel like you can be yourself...
don’t run from that. Maybe she needs you too.
Life’s too short to keep waiting for permission to be happy. ”
Mercedes, who had been quietly listening from the corner of the room while reviewing Benny’s schedule, looked up with a small, approving nod.
“He’s right, Chase,” she added softly, her voice calm and steady like always. “Recovery taught Benny that real growth happens when you stop hiding the parts of yourself that want more. Sounds like this Kath might be part of that for you. Trust it.”
Chase let the words settle. For the first time, the worry about disappointing Mason felt a little smaller next to the possibility of something real with Kath.
“Thanks, Benny.” He grinned. “And thank you, Mercedes.”
Benny picked up the guitar again, strumming a soft chord. “Anytime, brother. Now go get some sleep. You’ve got a ride tomorrow, right?”
Chase smiled despite himself. “Yeah. I do.”
As he walked out into the cool night air, the weight on his shoulders felt lighter than it had in months. The club, the band, his dad, and now Kath—maybe he didn’t have to choose just one path.