Page 50 of What They Say

“Figured I’d find you up here,” Bear called. “You coming down, or you planning to brood all night?”

Chase swung his legs back and dropped down the ladder. Bear waited for him, arms crossed, expression unreadable in the dim light.

“You talk to her yet?” Bear asked.

Chase shook his head. “Not yet. I don’t know what to say. ‘Hey, sorry I’ve been ghosting you, but there’s a dangerous asshole from my dead mom’s past who might come after anyone close to me’? Yeah, that’ll go over great.”

Bear sighed. “I told you she came by the garage earlier. Looked worried. Hurt. I told her you’d call when you could.”

Chase’s stomach twisted. “And I can’t yet. You know that as well as I do.” He lifted his chin, saying, “If she came looking for me, how much danger does that add to her?”

“I don’t think we can know, but hopefully her being at the garage didn’t increase the threat level for her.” Bear’s voice softened. “Kid’s got it bad for you. And you’ve got it bad for her. I get why you’re keeping distance right now—club comes first when there’s blood in the water. But don’t delay too long. Some things don’t wait.”

Chase nodded, chin tipping downwards. “I know. I just...I don’t want her anywhere near this. She’s already got enough shit going on with her sister and her mom’s mess. She doesn’t need my ghosts showing up too.”

Bear clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Chase. But good kids sometimes forget that the people who care about them want to stand with them, not be protected from them.”

Chase stayed quiet as Bear headed back inside. He pulled his phone out again and opened his messages with Kath.

His thumbs hovered.

He typed:

*I’m sorry I’ve been quiet. There’s some heavy club/family stuff going on right now. I didn’t want to drag you into it. I miss talking to you. Miss working on that song with you. I’ll explain more when I can. Promise.*

He stared at the message for a long time...then deleted it.

Not yet.

He wasn’t ready to lie to her. And the truth was too dangerous to tell.

Instead, he opened his voice memos and played the rough recording of the melody they’d started together. The notes floated into the night air, warm and hopeful, carrying the ghost of Kath’s voice in his head.

Chase closed his eyes and let the music wrap around him. It was the only thing that made sense right now.

Chapter Eighteen

Kath

The afternoon rush at The Grindhouse had finally died down, leaving Kath alone behind the counter with nothing but the hiss of the espresso machine and her own racing thoughts.

She wiped the whole length of the counter, her movements mechanical. Days of silence from Chase. Days of her brain cycling through every possible reason why he’d gone quiet after that perfect call from the bus. Every scenario ended the same way: She’d gotten too close, let herself hope, and now he was pulling away.

She hated how much it hurt.

Her phone buzzed in her apron pocket. Not Chase. Just a reminder that her shift was over. She let out a shaky breath, untied her apron, and clocked out.

The ride home felt longer than usual. The blue-and-white bike roared beneath her, but even its familiar thunder couldn’t drown out the anxious spiral in her head.

By the time she pulled into the driveway, her chest was tight with dread. She sat there for a moment, staring at the dark house. Maudie’s car was gone. Again.

Inside, she dropped her helmet on the desk chair in her bedroom and sank onto her bed, pulling out her phone. She needed to hear a friendly voice before she completely unraveled. She hit Emy’s contact for a video call.

Emy answered on the second ring, her face filling the screen with familiar concern.

“Uh-oh,” Emy said immediately. “You’ve got that ‘I’m spiraling but pretending I’m fine’ face. What happened?”

Kath tried to laugh, but it came out weak. “I think I’m losing him, Em. Chase. He was so excited after their Michigan show, calling me from the bus, telling me everything. Then...nothing. No calls. No texts. He’s just gone quiet. Totally ghosting me. I keep thinking maybe I scared him off. Or maybe his world is too big and I’m just...me.”