Chapter 14 Chase
FOURTEEN
CHASE
Gavin doesn’t even try to be subtle about it.
The moment Silas finishes talking and the room starts breaking into motion—Rafe issuing orders, Thorne already heading for the doors, Boyd grabbing his coffee like he’s gearing up for a siege—Gavin’s hand clamps on my shoulder.
“Walk with me.”
It’s not a request.
Silas falls in on my other side, and suddenly I’m being herded out of the clubhouse like I’m the one who just got put on probation.
We stop in the small side office—the one with the map wall and the scarred wooden desk that’s seen more bad news than good. Gavin closes the door. Silas stays leaning against it, arms crossed, face unreadable.
Gavin turns to me. “This isn’t a command conversation,” he says. “This is a brother conversation.”
That’s somehow worse.
I brace myself. “Okay.”
He studies me for a second, then goes straight for the jugular. “What are your intentions with my sister?”
There it is. No buildup. No soft landing. Just a clean hit to the ribs.
I don’t dodge it. “I care about her.”
Silas’s brow lifts slightly. Gavin doesn’t move.
“That’s not what I asked,” Gavin says.
I run a hand over the back of my neck. “I don’t have a five-year plan, if that’s what you’re looking for. I’m not… playing with her. I’m not using her. I’m not screwing around.”
“Good,” Gavin says flatly. “Because when this is over, Fiona goes home.” The words land heavy. “She has a job,” he continues. “A life. Responsibilities that don’t exist on this mountain.”
I know.
I’ve known since the second she walked into Haven 7 with a suitcase and stubborn pride and eyes that looked like she’d already lost too much.
“I’m aware,” I say.
“And you?” Silas asks quietly. “What do you have?”
I don’t answer right away, because the truth isn’t pretty or simple.
I have Haven 7.
I have this place.
I have a purpose that finally feels like it fits.
I don’t have a city apartment. Or a corporate job. Or a life that makes sense anywhere else.
“I have… here,” I say finally.
Silas nods slowly. “So the question is—would you leave it?”
The room goes very quiet.
Gavin watches me closely. Not angry. Not accusing. He’s protective. Like a man trying to figure out if he needs to build walls or open a gate.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
Gavin’s jaw tightens. “That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s honest,” I say. “If you want me to lie and say I’ve got it all figured out, I don’t. I just know I’m not walking away from her like she’s a temporary assignment.”
Silas tilts his head. “Would she move here?”
My chest tightens. “I don’t know that either.”
Because the truth is, Fiona doesn’t belong in a bubble. She belongs in the world. In light. In noise. In places where she can choose her own damn future. And the idea of asking her to trade that for a mountain and a security compound feels… selfish.
“I only know one thing,” I say quietly. “I care about her. A lot.”
Gavin studies my face, like he’s weighing that against a thousand worst-case scenarios. “Caring isn’t always enough,” he says.
“I know,” I answer. “But it’s not nothing.”
Silas pushes off the door. “We can argue about futures later. Right now, we’ve got a present problem.” He looks at both of us. “The threat with Marcus is real. And it just got bigger.”
My stomach sinks. “How much bigger?”
“Mark Renshaw was released on bail this morning.”
The name hits like a punch.
Gavin swears under his breath.
Silas continues, “He’s already making calls. Moving money. Pulling strings. Our sources say he’s still running the ring—just quieter.”
“And Marcus?” I ask.
“Connected,” Silas says. “Not a boss. Not muscle. More like… logistics. Middle layer. He knows routes. Safe houses. Buyers.”
My jaw clenches. “So Fiona wasn’t just unlucky,” I say. “She was close to something.”
“Close enough that they don’t want her talking,” Silas says. “Close enough that Marcus is moving and Renshaw is backing him.”
Gavin’s face goes cold. “Then we shut it down.”
“All of it,” Silas agrees. “Not just for Fiona. For everyone they’re hurting.”
I nod slowly. “What’s the plan?”
Silas meets my eyes. “We find the network. We cut the routes. We take Renshaw’s leverage away. And we make sure Marcus never gets near your girl again.”
Your girl.
The words settle in my chest like a claim and a promise at the same time.
Gavin looks at me. “You stay sharp. You stay honest. And you don’t make decisions for her without her.”
“I won’t,” I say. “I swear.”
He nods once. “Then we’re good. For now.”
Silas opens the door. The noise of the compound rushes back in—voices, boots, radios, the hum of a place that’s already shifting into action.
As we step out, my gaze goes automatically to the clubhouse windows.
I can’t see Fiona from here. But I feel her. And for the first time in a long time, I’m not just fighting because it’s my job. I’m fighting because there’s someone I don’t intend to lose.