Page 38 of Chaos
I release him, stepping back as he slumps against the wall. Brothers gather around us—Mayhem, Fuzzy, Jinx, Prophet—all watching, listening. Hands hovering near weapons, they’re not sure what to do. I’m their club president.
“I need to find my ol’ lady.” My voice sounds strange in my ears, too controlled for the hurricane raging inside. "Now!”
“What’s he drivin'?" Fuzzy pulls out his phone. “If it’s one of our trucks, all club vehicles have trackers."
"On it." Mayhem heads to the security office, already dialing the prospect on gate duty.
Zeus slides down the wall until he's sitting, head in his hands. I should feel something for him—pity, maybe, for the betrayal of his closest friend. But all I can think about is Rowan. My sweet, innocent girl in the hands of a traitor.
"Her phone," I say suddenly, pulling out my cell. “Maybe we can see if it pings a cell tower.”
I hit her number on speed dial. A moment later, a familiar ringtone sounds from across the room. I whip around, following the noise to the cluster of cut sluts.
Kandi shifts on the couch, reaches under her ass, and pulls out Rowan's phone. "Oops." Her smile is pure venom. "How'd that get there?"
I cross the room in two strides, but at that moment, Fuzzy bursts back into the room, expression grim. “He’s in one of our trucks, but the tracker's been disabled."
"Fuck!" I slam my fist into the wall, pain shooting up my arm.
"Chaos." Zeus's strained voice cuts through my rage. He's standing now, eyes red-rimmed but focused. "The boots."
I turn, not understanding at first. “Huh?”
"The boots you bought Rowan." Zeus straightens. "You told me to put a tracker in ‘em."
Fuck, I did. At the time, I felt guilty for being a controlling asshole—but only slightly. Now, I feel vindicated.
The tracking app takes precious minutes to pull up on my phone, minutes where my imagination tortures me with imagesof what Fiend might be doing to my girl. If he hurts her... if he touches a single hair on her head...
"Got it!" I watch a blinking dot appear on the screen. "On the move. Heading south on I-75.”
"Where's he taking her?" Mayhem leans over my shoulder, eyes narrowed.
Zeus moves closer, studying the screen. "That route…fuck." His face crumples.
Somehow, Jinx pulls up a topographical map on his phone. “Looks like there’s a high cliff overlooking Lake Erie."
“I know the place. Fiend calls it a scenic overlook.'" Zeus's voice cracks. “We rode out that way a few times. He once mentioned it would be a perfect place to…” He looks up at me and then away before he continues, “to dispose of a body. Deep water below. The lake has strong undertow currents right there.”
The room goes silent. My pulse pounds in my ears, blood roaring like a freight train.
My voice is deadly calm when I say, “Let’s ride.”
The compound erupts into activity. Brothers grab weapons, cuts, and comms. I check my Glock, then tuck a second gun in my ankle holster.
Zeus’s face is haggard. I meet his eyes, and he stares hard at me. “Chaos, I swear to you, I had absolutely no clue.”
I study him for a moment. He looks wrecked. It’s written in every line of his face. "Pull it together, brother,” I tell him. “I need you. You know this place better than anyone.”
Two minutes later, six motorcycles roar out of the compound, thundering down the streets of Detroit like vengeance itself. I lead the pack, Zeus beside me, both of us pushing our bikes to the limit. Time is running out.
I've never prayed much. Never seen the point. But as the miles blur beneath my wheels, I find myself bargaining withwhatever higher power might be up there. Whoever might be listening. Let her be alive. Let me get there in time. I'll do anything. Give anything.
Just let my girl be safe.
The roads narrow as we leave the city behind, trees pressing close on either side. Zeus signals, and we turn onto a gravel path barely visible in the darkness.
The final stretch is pure torture. Engines growling low, moving at top speed. Then I see it—a truck parked near the edge of the cliff. Two figures stand in the beam of the headlights.
