Page 52 of What They Say

Chase closed the door behind him with a soft click and stood there for a beat, hands shoved in his pockets so his father wouldn’t see them tremble. What’s up? That was a loaded question his dad probably didn’t know could hurt the way it did.

He sat, then shifted his weight, the worn chair creaking under him in the quiet of Mason’s office. The weight of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours pressed down on his shoulders, but this felt heavier somehow. He met his dad’s steady gaze and forced the words out.

“Mason...Dad, I want to tell you about someone I care about. See how much danger you think she’d be in if I reached out and let her know I’m okay.” Chase huffed out a heavy breath, the admission scraping raw against his throat. “She matters to me, Dad.”

Mason didn’t answer right away. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin, eyes sharp and assessing in that way that always made Chase feel seen straight through to the bone. The silence stretched, heavy but not unkind—his father weighing every angle the way he always did when club safety was on the line.

“Tell me about her,” Mason said finally, voice quiet and intense. “Who is she? How deep does this go?”

Chase exhaled, some of the tension easing at the question. He told his father the truth—how he’d met Kath at the diner, the bike, the quiet conversations that had turned into something real. How she wasn’t connected to the club but could be pulled in anyway because of him.

When he finished, Mason was quiet again, processing. Then he gave a slow nod, the hard lines of his face softening just a fraction.

“She’s not club,” Mason said carefully. “That makes her safer in some ways, more exposed in others. The threat’s being handled for now, but old ghosts like Diamante don’t always stay buried. If you reach out, you do it smart. Short message. No details. Tell her you’re okay and you’ll explain when it’s safe. Nothing that paints a bigger target on her back.”

Chase felt the knot in his chest loosen. “So, I have your permission?”

Mason’s mouth twitched—the closest he came to a smile. “You’re a grown man, Chase. You don’t need my permission to care about someone. But you do need my advice on how to keep her safe while you do it.” He leaned forwards, eyes locking with his son’s. “Go ahead. Reach out. Just be careful. For both your sakes.”

The simple approval felt like a weight finally lifting. Chase swallowed hard and nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”

Mason studied him for another long moment, then added quietly, “And Chase? Don’t shut her out completely. If she matters that much? Then she deserves to know all about the man who’s choosing her. Not just the parts you think are safe.”

Chapter Nineteen

Chase

Chase’s truck roared down the quiet street, the modified exhaust cutting through the night like a warning. After getting Mason’s approval, he’d fired off a couple of texts, expecting an immediate response, but nope. Now, it was the next day, and he hadn’t heard from Kath in over twenty-four hours. No replies to his texts. No answer when he called. Not even a read receipt.

The silence was eating him alive.

He pulled up in front of her house. Her bike was right where it always was—parked neatly beside the porch, blue-and-white paint catching the streetlight. Relief hit him hard for half a second.

She was home. She had to be.

He climbed out and jogged up the steps, knocking firmly on the door. No answer. He knocked again, harder.

The door cracked open. A young woman stood there, eyes red and wide with fear. She looked a lot like Kath, but she also looked like she hadn’t slept.

“Are you Chase?” Her voice shook. When he nodded, she said, “Thank God. I’m Maudie. Have you seen her? Kath? Her bike’s here, but she’s...she’s gone.”

Chase’s stomach dropped like a stone.

“She made it home from work,” he said, voice tight. “The bike proves it. When was the last time you saw her?”

Maudie shook her head, stepping back so he could come inside. “I got home late. Her bike was already here. I figured she was in her room. But when I woke up this morning...nothing. Her bed wasn’t slept in. I texted her, but nothing back.”

Chase’s blood ran cold.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Kath’s number. It rang once...twice...

Then he heard it.

Maudie shook her head. “Yeah, her phone’s in her bedroom. I’m scared. She never goes anywhere without her phone.”

The familiar ringtone she’d set for him—the metal anthem she’d picked after their first long ride together—blaring from down the hallway. From her bedroom.

Chase pushed past her, heart hammering, and stepped into Kath’s room. He quickly verified her phone sat on the nightstand, screen lighting up with his name. The bed was made. Her notebook was still open on the desk. Everything looked normal...except she wasn’t there.