Page 5 of Bliss: Part 2
He looked up, eyes tired. “We’ll deal with that if we have to. But not yet. Not tonight. Tonight we believe she’s coming back. Got it?”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
Ashby nudged my knee with his. “We’re not done looking.”
“I know,” I said, sighing as I rested my head on his shoulder. “I’m not stopping.”
“We’ll find her. Because we don’t quit on the people we love.”
Thirty-Two
People didn’t make eye contact with me when I walked down the street.
Didn’t matter if it was broad daylight or after sunset…eyes dropped, hands shoved into pockets, and doors quietly clicked shut if I passed too close.
I didn’t blame them.
I was the kind of man people stayed away from.
Sometimes, I let them.
The tattoos, the height, the beard, the noise of my bike, it all made people pause. Take a step back. Whisper something under their breath. And in the world I came from, that was useful. That kind of presence kept people in line. Kept the ones who needed to fear me afraid. In this town, that look did more than just turn heads—it kept the peace.
I ran with dangerous men. Loyal, but dangerous. The kind of men who’d throw a punch first and talk later. But we had our code at the motorcycle club. And we stuck to it.
Yeah, sometimes I leaned into it too hard. Let the attitude take over. I had my moments when I liked stirring shit up just because I could. I liked the chaos when it wasn’t hurting anyone. I liked my club, I loved the road, I fucking loved women, but I wasn’t a monster.
I wasn’t some cold bastard without a soul. I didn’t start actual fights for no reason, and I didn’t hurt people who didn’t deserve it. You gave me respect, I gave it back. You needed help, and I had it to give? I was there. That was how I was raised. That was how our life worked.
So when I heard that Bliss Langley, the girl from my favorite bike repair shop, went missing, I didn’t need a second thought. I got the whole MC on their feet. Didn’t even have to bark the order. We all knew what needed to be done.
This was our town. We looked after our own.
It didn’t matter that she wasn’t one of us. She was part of the fabric of this place, part of a family that never overcharged me a single dollar and always got my bike running better than before. Her dad, Owen, was one of the good ones. Every time I brought my Harley in, that girl was there with a smile on her face, helping run the place.
Then we heard the carnival had rolled through.
Carnivals. I fucking hated carnivals.
They came in fast, made noise, made money, then packed up and vanished before you could blink. Left behind trash and broken things. And sometimes, people. People like Bliss.
My blood ran cold the second I heard she’d gone missing right after the carnival packed up. I didn’t need a red string conspiracy to connect the dots. We’d had problems with carnies before. Guys running games who didn’t know boundaries. Workers who thought they could sneak around and feel up locals. Last year, we had to toss two of them out ourselves before they put hands on the wrong girl. They didn’t come back, not after that night.
This year felt the same. Too familiar. Too quiet after the chaos.
So we patrolled the grounds every damn day. We made our presence known. Let the outsiders know we weren’t afraid to be seen, that this town had eyes. Most of them kept their heads down. But there’s always one who doesn’t. Always one who thinks he’s smarter than the rest.
And this year? I was sure that one had Bliss.
I didn’t wait. Didn’t hold a vote. I ordered the boys to tear through every alley, every side street, every pocket of town the carnival had touched. I wanted eyes on every inch. I sent them in teams. Told them to report anything strange.
But I had a gut feeling. And I always trusted my gut.
So while they were searching the town, I got on my bike and headed out. I took the old back roads. The ones that eventually spat you out at the edge of the forest. There was a stretch of land out there nobody paid much attention to. That’s where I went.
Because three years ago, something just like this happened in another town. Different chapter, same carnival. A little girl disappeared the night before they left. We found her two days later, dumped just outside the city, barely alive. The man who took her was one of the workers. A real piece of shit. He didn’t even try to hide what he did. Just packed up and left her like trash. Like she didn’t matter.
That memory never left me. I saw her face when I closed my eyes sometimes.
