As they rode, the wind tore at him, but it couldn’t drown out the thoughts crashing through his head.
Ivy’s laugh.The way she furrowed her brow when she concentrated on a mural.The soft weight of her against him the night he’d finally let himself forget, just for a few hours, that his heart had ever been broken.
He hadn’t even told her how he felt.Hell, he hadn’t fully admitted it to himself until now, with her gone and the fear sitting heavy and cold in his gut.
He was in love with her.
The realization hit him with brutal clarity.Not some passing want or comfort.Love.The kind that scared him because it had the power to wreck him all over again, and he’d pushed her away.
Guilt gnawed at him, sharp and unrelenting.If she was hurt or if Hyena had laid a hand on her...Havoc didn’t know if he could live with that.
The Steel Jackals compound loomed ahead, lights glowing against the dark like a dare.Havoc slowed, raising a fist.The crew pulled in behind him, engines cutting one by one.
Silence fell, thick and heavy.
Havoc pulled off his helmet, breathing deep.This wasn’t just about club business anymore.This was personal.Ivy was his.She was under his protection, whether he’d said the words or not.
He checked his gun, then his knife.He was assured by the familiar and steadying weight.
“I want eyes everywhere,” he murmured.“We get her fast.No mistakes.”
As they moved out, Havoc’s heart pounded with a fierce, aching mix of fear and resolve.He would tear this place apart brick by brick if he had to.
He would bring Ivy back.If she never forgave him, if she walked away the second she was safe, he’d accept it.He deserved that much.But Hyena?Hyena was going to learn exactly what it meant to take something from Havoc and live to regret it.
****
The room had no windows.That was the first thing Ivy noticed.No windows meant no light except the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.No windows meant no sense of time.Minutes stretched into something elastic and cruel, snapping back only to stretch again.No windows meant no way to see help coming.
She sat on a metal chair bolted to the floor, her wrists bound behind her back with rough zip ties that bit into her skin whenever she shifted.Her ankles were tied too, tethering her to the chair legs.
The air smelled like oil, dust, and old sweat.Somewhere in the walls, pipes ticked and knocked, a hollow, mechanical heartbeat.
Her throat burned.Ivy swallowed, the motion painful.She had screamed earlier.She remembered that much.The sound had clawed its way raw out of her chest, shouting until her lungs ached and her head spun.
She’d called for help.She’d called Havoc’s name once, shame and desperation tangling tight in her ribs when it slipped out.No one had come.Now she conserved her breath, listening.
Outside the room, life went on.That was the worst part.She could hear it through the walls.Loud voices, laughter, heavy bass music.Bottles clinked, someone whooped and engines revved and died again.
An MC compound.The realization had hit her earlier when they’d dragged her inside.The open yard.The bikes lined up like steel beasts at rest.Men in cuts and patches, some of them turning to look as she was marched past, curiosity flickering and then fading into disinterest.
She’d stumbled, nearly gone down when the biker gripping her arm shoved her forward harder. Ivy remembered the smell of gasoline, leather, and sweat.
You should have fought harder.The thought came unbidden, cruel and relentless.She replayed the moment outside her apartment building over and over, searching for the place where she’d gone wrong.
She had hesitated, heck, she even tried to be polite.Ivy had also foolishly believed, even for half a second, that Havoc had sent someone for her.
So stupid.Regret gnawed at her, but she forced herself not to drown in it.Regret wouldn’t cut the ties or open the door.She tested the zip ties again, flexing her wrists, twisting until the plastic bit deep enough to make her hiss.Pain bloomed sharp and immediate, but the ties held.
Think, Ivy.She shifted in the chair, testing the weight, rocking it slightly.It didn’t budge.It was bolted, of course it was.She let her head fall back for a second, staring up at the flickering bulb, blinking hard as tears threatened.She refused to cry.Crying felt like giving something up she couldn’t afford to lose.
Time dragged.Her mouth felt like cotton.Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.Every swallow scraped.She tried to focus on her breathing, on staying calm, on staying present.
Then footsteps approached.Not the distant thud of boots outside.These were closer.They stopped outside the door.Ivy’s pulse leaped, hammering so hard she could feel it in her throat.She held her breath.The lock turned.
The door creaked open slowly, the sound stretching out her nerves until they sang.Light spilled in from the hallway, brighter than the bulb overhead, slicing across the concrete floor.
A man stepped into the doorway.
