Page 2 of What They Say

Say something to him, a voice in his head whispered. Or tell Dad—he’ll know what to do. If nothing else, Slate needs to know.

But the thought made him feel sick.

If he went to Mason, it would travel straight to Slate, who was Benny’s big brother. Things would explode. Benny would feel betrayed. And right now, Benny was pretty much the only person in Fort Wayne who treated Chase like a regular guy instead of “the president’s kid.”

Snitching on the one friend he had here felt like he’d be shooting himself in the foot.

Chase swallowed hard and forced himself to keep playing, matching Benny’s rhythm even as his mind spun in circles. What if he was wrong? What if it was just stress? What if saying something made everything worse?

He hated this. Hated feeling like he was choosing between loyalty and doing the right thing. Hated that part of him wanted to stay quiet just so he wouldn’t lose the only real connection he had outside his father’s world. Beyond the influence of Mason and his minions.

Benny caught him staring and flashed that brittle smile again. “You good, man?”

“Yeah,” Chase lied, gaze dropping down to his guitar. “Just thinking about the new riff you showed me yesterday.”

Benny gave him another flash of his grin and shouted, “Let’s fucking go, man.”

Chase followed along, but the unease stayed lodged in his chest like a stone.

He’d watch. He’d wait.

For now.

But deep down, he knew he was only delaying the inevitable.

And when it finally broke, he had a horrible feeling he’d regret staying silent.

***

Kath

Kath stood at the kitchen counter, phone pressed between her ear and shoulder while she rinsed the last of the breakfast dishes. Sunlight slanted through the faded curtains, catching on the chipped edges of the plates and making the whole room feel a little less worn down than it was. She’d waited until Maudie left for her shift and Emy was buried in her headphones before making the call. Some things felt too new—too hopeful—to risk explaining to her sister yet.

The line clicked, and a deep, rumbling voice answered. “Bear.”

“Hi, this is Kath. Kathleen Daniels? I was hoping for an update on the bike, maybe when you might be done with it.” Her voice came out steadier than she felt. She dried her hands on a dish towel, gripping it a little tighter than necessary.

Bear’s chuckle rolled through the phone like distant thunder—warm, not mocking. “Yeah, I remember. Bike’s been sittin’ here lookin’ pretty. We can do a handoff this afternoon if you’re free. Say around two? I’ll be in the garage most of the day.”

Kath’s stomach did a little flip. She glanced towards the hallway, half expecting Maudie to reappear and ask questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

“Two works great,” she said, grabbing a pen and scribbling the time on the back of an old envelope. “I really appreciate this. I know it’s probably not your normal thing—helping out someone who doesn’t know how to ride very well.”

Another low laugh from Bear. “Darlin’, half the people who come through my garage don’t ride at all when they first show up. We’ll get you sorted. Bring your license and a helmet, if you’ve got one. If not, I’ve got spares. We can put some miles under the wheels. You know where we are?”

“Yeah, I have the address. I’ll be there.” She hesitated, then added softly, “Thank you. For doing this for me.”

Bear’s tone gentled just a fraction. “That’s what friends are for. See you at two, Kath.”

The call ended with a click, and Kath set the phone down on the counter. She let out a long breath, staring at the scribbled note like it was a lifeline. A bike. A real appointment. Something that felt like forward motion instead of the same old cycle of bills, worry, and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Kath squared her shoulders, tucked the note into her pocket, and went to find her shoes. Two o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

***

Chase

Later, after Eddie had gone to sleep with her head in Bear’s lap watching some shoot-’em-up movie, the living room had grown quiet except for the low chatter of explosions and gunfire on the screen. Chase stared at the TV without really seeing it, the flickering light casting shifting shadows across the walls. His leg bounced restlessly until he forced it still, but the tension in his shoulders refused to ease.