Page 62 of Emmy's Ride

Jax let out a low chuckle, shifting against the wall with his arms crossed. “Kid’s smart. Picks shit up quick. I had him looking at engine schematics today, and you know what he said?”

I arched a brow. “What?”

Jax grinned. “Said it was easier than his algebra homework. Don’t worry, I’m working with him on his algebra. Piece of cake.”

“Told you all, these kids aren’t just looking for a way out. They want something to fight for.”

Tank nodded, his usual scowl softening. “Yeah. Never thought I’d say this, but… maybe this whole thing ain’t a bad idea.”

Something tightened in my chest—a rare flicker of pride, of hope. My brothers were getting on board. It was working. I just hadn’t told Emmy yet.

I would. When the time was right.

“You keep getting all soft on us, Prez,” Deuce teased, kicking his feet up on the desk. “Next thing we know, you’ll be making us do charity runs and Santa drives.”

The room snickered, but I just shrugged. “Maybe.”

That shut them up.

The laughter died down, replaced by a heavier silence. I watched the shift, the way my brothers were starting to consider it, how the idea of going legit wasn’t as crazy as it once was. Maybe this really was the future of the Kings of Chaos.

My gaze flicked to the clock. Why was I still down here with these buffoons and not up there with her?

A strange feeling itched at the base of my skull. I sat up straighter, tilting my head to the side. Listening. Something wasn’t right.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, an old instinct kicking in—one I’d acquired from years in this life.

Jax must have noticed because he tilted his head. “Prez?”

The conversation drifted, but I wasn’t really listening anymore. Something was off. A feeling of dread took up residence in my gut, and the longer we sat there, the worse it got.

A knock came at the door.

A premonition. A warning. Before the door even opened, I knew something was wrong.

The door creaked, and Riot stepped inside. Or what was left of him.

He looked like hell warmed over—his face was bruised, his lip split, dried blood crusting at his temple. His hands trembled at his sides. His eyes were wild, darting between the men in the room before landing on me.

A dead man walking.

I pushed out of my chair slowly. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Riot gulped hard, but his voice still shook. “I fucked up.”

Jax snorted. “No shit.”

I ignored him. My fists clenched as I took a step forward. “Where is she?”

The room went silent.

Riot flinched, and that’s when I knew. My chest turned to stone, rage boiling beneath my skin.

“She’s gone,” Riot admitted, eyes on the floor.

I grabbed him by the collar, shoving him against the wall so hard the whole damn room shook. Riot didn't fight back.

“Where the fuck is she?” I barked, my heart slamming against my ribs.

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