Page 2 of Emmy's Ride

A few of the other club members exchanged looks. A man I recognized—Bear, one of the club’s enforcers—shifted his weight on the barstool and downed the rest of his drink.

Austin finally spoke, lower this time. "Grit’s not here."

I folded my arms, unwilling to let him play this game with me. "I know that. What I don’t know is where he is or why his bike is still parked outside. He wouldn’t willingly leave it behind."

Austin exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face before shooting a pointed look at one of his men. A silent command. The man nodded, gathered a few curious onlookers and they disappeared down the hall leaving me alone with Austin.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. My pulse kicked up.

"Why didn’t you call me?" I pressed, stepping closer.

His eyes met mine, something unreadable flickering behind the ice-blue stare that had once inflamed me. "Because I don’t have answers yet."

Yet. The word landed like a stone in my gut. My fingers curled at my sides, frustration mingling with the old fire I swore I’d extinguished years ago. The intensity in Austin’s gaze, the way he smelled—leather, smoke, something darker and distinctly him—it all wrapped around me, dragging me back to a time when I’d wanted things I never should have.

This wasn’t about the past. This was about Luke. "If he’s in trouble, I need to know."

Austin was well aware I wouldn’t let this go. His eyes searched mine and, for a brief second, I thought I saw an edge soften. Then it was gone.

"Fine. But not here, come with me," he said with a sigh, turning on his heel and striding toward the back of the clubhouse.

I hesitated for half a second before following.

Austin pushed open the door to his office, and I stepped inside. There was better lighting than the rest of the clubhouse, but the same big desk still sat covered with papers, folders, notes, and a few bottles of whiskey scattered across the surface.

My gaze lingered on it, and a shiver went through me remembering the last time I’d been here. I closed my eyes and willed the images away. They had no business being in my mind.

Get a grip, Emmy. You’re here for Luke.

The door shut, leaving us alone.

Austin leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, watching me. "Luke was last seen two nights ago. He was supposed to meet one of our guys at a drop, but he never showed."

"A drop? What kind of drop?"

His expression didn’t change other than the same tick of his jaw. "Club business."

Of course. The Kings of Chaos never let outsiders into their world, and despite the fact that I was Luke’s sister, I was still an outsider. "Austin, this is my brother. You think I give a damn about club secrets right now?"

His gaze locked on to mine, inscrutable. Then, with a heavy exhale, "Fine. We were securing a shipment. Grit was supposed to be there, but he never showed. His phone’s off so we can’t ping it. No one’s seen or heard from him since."

My breath caught. "And you didn’t think to tell me?"

“I wasn’t about to drag you into this unless I had to."

My nails dug into my palms. Men. Always deciding what was best for me. Always shutting me out.

"He’s my family," I snapped.

"He’s my brother too," Austin shot back, his voice rough. "You don’t think I’m doing everything in my power to find him?"

His words hit me like a slap.

Right. Luke wasn’t just my brother. He was also Austin’s family. His brother in the Kings of Chaos. The family that didn’t include me.

The tension between us simmered, an undercurrent of old and unresolved emotions crackling in the air.

I swallowed hard. "Then let me help."

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