Page 57 of What They Say

By the third block, he was right behind Bear, who was riding point.

Bear’s hand suddenly lifted to the side of his helmet, adjusting the comms. Chase saw the big man’s shoulders stiffen as someone clearly reported an interloper in the pack.

Bear’s head turned slightly, checking his mirror.

Chase flipped up his visor just long enough for his face to catch the light.

Bear’s eyes widened. Chase saw the man’s lips move clearly in the mirror as he cursed:

“Goddammit, Chase.”

Bear didn’t slow down. Didn’t signal the group to stop. He just shook his head once—sharp, frustrated, but not surprised—and kept riding.

Chase dropped the visor back into place, heart pounding with adrenaline and grim determination.

He knew he’d catch hell for this later. Mason would lose his mind. Bear would probably sit on him until he couldn’t breathe.

But none of that mattered right now.

Kath was out there somewhere.

And Chase wasn’t going to sit at the clubhouse waiting for someone else to bring her home.

He twisted the throttle and stayed glued to Bear’s rear wheel, the pack rumbling through the night around him like dark thunder.

He was Mason’s son.

And right now, right here, that meant something.

Chapter Twenty-One

Chase

The pack of bikes raced down the dark county road like a black river of chrome and leather. Chase stayed glued to Bear’s rear tire, visor down, heart hammering in time with the engine beneath him. Every mile felt like another minute Kath was in danger. Every second without her was too long.

Suddenly, brake lights flared across the entire formation.

Chase was the only one who didn’t hear the command over the comms.

He reacted on pure instinct, leaning hard and feathering the brakes. The borrowed bike tried to fishtail beneath him, but he controlled the skid with muscle memory he didn’t even know he had, bringing the bike to a sharp, controlled stop just off Bear’s left side.

By the time his kickstand was down, Bear was already off his own bike and storming towards him, face like thunder.

Chase flipped up his visor before Bear could rip into him.

“She’s mine, Bear,” he said, voice raw and steady. “You hear me? She’s mine to protect. Mine to rescue.”

Bear stopped inches away, chest heaving. For a long second, the two men stared at each other—president’s son and the man who’d become like an uncle. Then Bear gave one sharp nod.

He turned and waved someone forwards. Myron rolled up beside them on his smaller bike, tablet already in hand.

“Quick version,” Myron said without preamble. “We triangulated the last strong ping from a burner phone that was in the area of Kath’s house right around the time she disappeared. Cross-referenced with traffic cams and a couple of our eyes on the ground. We’ve got a location—old trailer house about twelve miles from here. Two, maybe three hostiles. We think she’s in the back bedroom.”

Chase’s hands clenched on the grips. “Then why the fuck are we stopped?”

Myron didn’t flinch. “Because we do this smart, not fast. Mason’s orders.”

Bear stepped closer, heavy hand landing on Chase’s shoulder. His voice was low, serious. “I get the feeling, brother. You’ll ride in with us. But I need to know—if I let you roll heavy, do you have the trigger discipline not to kill anyone, friend or foe?”