“My boys?” I bark out a humorless laugh. “You got a fuckin’ patch too. I didn’t strip that from you.”
Smoke steps closer. “Bullshit. Once a President, always a President. They’ll follow you before they follow anyone else.”
A beat.
He’s right.
I hate that he’s right.
“All right,” I say roughly. “We go to the clubhouse. Call a sermon to Country Boy now.”
He nods. “Finally something we agree on.”
The Hellions clubhouse explodes into motion the second I throw the doors open.
Conversations die. Chairs scrape. Eyes snap to me.
Every man here has seen me angry.
None have seen me like this.
“What’s wrong?” Grinder asks instantly, stepping forward.
“Tiff and Holley,” I say, voice ringing through the room. “They’re missing.”
The reaction is immediate.
“What?”
“Impossible.”
“Where were they?”
“Who took them?”
I raise a hand and the room quiets so fast it feels like gravity snapped.
Smoke stands behind me, arms crossed, bruising already blooming on his jaw.
“They went out two hours ago,” I say. “Never came back.”
Every member straightens like pulled by a wire.
Miles pushes to the front. “We riding?”
“Not yet,” I snap. “We do this smart. Not sloppy.”
Hellions don’t fear chaos.
They fear losing family.
And these women—My daughter.
And Holley…
Holley who slept curled against my chest last night—They matter.
I clear my throat and step forward.
