Havoc stood with hishands braced on the scarred wooden table.His knuckles were white, and he’d locked his jaw so tight his teeth ached.
The glow from Gizmo’s laptop painted the room in harsh blue light.Gizmo was their resident hacker and Havoc was right to call him in for help.Roach leaned in close, tense and silent, but Havoc barely registered him.His focus was a single frozen frame on the screen.Ivy.
The camera outside Ivy’s apartment building caught her mid-step, bag slung over her shoulder, head turned slightly as if she’d sensed something was wrong.The next frames played out like a nightmare he couldn’t wake from.The unfamiliar biker, how Ivy stiffened and the way she tried to step back.
Then the angle shifted, obscured by the edge of the building.When the camera caught them again, she was struggling, fighting, being forced onto the bike.
Havoc sucked in a breath that burned all the way down.His fault.The thought clawed at him, relentless and merciless.If he hadn’t pulled away that morning or walked after her.Hell, if he’d said the words he’d rehearsed a hundred times in his head, then Ivy wouldn’t have been taken from him.
“She put up a fight,” Roach said.
Havoc didn’t look away from the screen.Ivy wasn’t the type to go quietly.The image of her struggling twisted something savage in his chest, equal parts pride and terror.
“Plate’s clear enough,” Gizmo muttered.“Give me a second.”
The clacking of keys filled the room, too loud, too slow.Havoc paced once, then stopped, flexing his fists at his sides like he needed something to hit.
Gizmo let out a low whistle.“Got him,” Gizmo finally said.
The screen shifted, numbers scrolling, maps popping up.
“Bike’s registered under a burner name.But he was sloppy.Used a credit card at a gas station not long after,” Gizmo said.
A pin dropped on the map.
“One mile out from Steel Jackals’ territory,” Gizmo finished.“Right near their compound.”
The room went deadly quiet.
Roach pushed himself more upright, face pale beneath the bruises.
“That’s him,” he said, pointing at the plate.“Same bike.Same bastard.”
Havoc closed his eyes for a brief second, rage roaring up so fast it made him dizzy.Hyena.He should’ve ended that score years ago instead of letting it fester.Instead of letting Ivy walk into the crossfire of unfinished business.
Hyena hadn’t just taken her to hurt Havoc.That was almost incidental, a message delivered loud enough for every MC within riding distance to hear.Devil’s Crown didn’t protect its own.The MC couldn’t even protect the women who worked inside its gates.
Hyena wanted that whisper to spread, to rot from the inside out.The bastard wanted other upstart crews to start circling like vultures, thinking the Devil’s Crown MC’s fangs had dulled.
The realization turned Havoc’s stomach.Ivy wasn’t part of the MC.She was just someone King hired, but still Hyena had reached for her because Havoc had made her visible.
The woman he’d been too much of a coward to claim.That truth burned worse than any insult Hyena could throw.If Havoc had kept his distance.If he’d stayed the closed-off bastard everyone expected him to be, Ivy would’ve been background noise, not leverage.
Instead, she was paying for the fracture lines in him, for the way Libby’s ghost still haunted his choices, for every time he’d chosen silence over honesty.Hyena hadn’t just kidnapped Ivy.
He’d grabbed Havoc’s guilt by the throat and squeezed.
“I’m going to King,” Havoc said, voice low and iron-hard.
No one argued.
King listened without interruption, his expression darkening with every detail.When Havoc finished, King nodded once.
“Take a crew.Keep it clean if you can.Bring her home,” he said.
Havoc swallowed.“I will.”
Outside, engines rumbled to life, the familiar sound usually a comfort.Tonight it felt like a war drum.Havoc swung onto his Harley, gripping the bars tight, knuckles already aching.
