I don’t look at either of them.
My eyes are fixed on the dark ribbon of road ahead, the lines blurring, the headlights painting streaks of white through the black.
Every mile marker that passes feels like a threat, a countdown, a heartbeat getting fainter.
My heartbeat.
Her heartbeat.
I grip the wheel tighter until my knuckles ache.
That son of a bitch laid a hand on my woman.
Dragged her out of my house.Hurt Angie.
He threatened what’s mine.
Roach doesn’t know it yet—but he’s already dead.
“She’s strong,” Benji says quietly after a long stretch of silence.“Bit.She’s tougher than she looks.She’ll hold on.”
“She better,” I mutter.“Because I’m tearing this fucking state apart until I find her.”
Micah glances up from the screen.“Got something.Highway cam picked up three bikes, matching Hellbound patches, two clicks down 80 West.Time stamp’s about ten minutes after Angie called.”
“Copy that.They’re going back to their fucking club house in Cincy.You got the address?Send it to my phone.”
He does.
I grab it, glance once, and then shove it into my pocket.
“Fuck, that’s them.”Micah says, and I look at the screen at the grainy image of three motorcycles, one with two passengers.
“Fuck,” I growl.
Benji exhales through his teeth.
“Head in the game, boys.We’re hunting tonight.”
“Damn right, we’re hunting.”
I flick the switch for the high beams, warning this slow motherfucker in front of me that I’m coming in hot, and I push the truck harder.
The engine howls.
The tires eat the road.
The world narrows to a tunnel—just asphalt, rage, and her face in my mind.
Lil Bit laughing under a pink October sky.
Lil Bit in my arms, whispering that she felt it too.
Lil Bit promising she’d wait for me.
And me, fool enough to believe I could keep her safe by leaving her behind.
“Hold on, Honey,” I whisper, voice rough with everything I can’t say.“I’m coming for you.”
