The moment I stepped into my office, I already knew something was wrong. The lights were on. Tech never left the lights on unless he wanted to be seen.
He was sitting in my chair like he owned it—feet kicked up, laptop open, three monitors blinking with scrolling code. Rook sat at his desk, arms crossed, jaw working like he was grinding teeth to dust. The V.P. and President have desks in an office so they can be on the same page. I made Rook my V.P. so he could really learn. He will appoint his own when he takes my gravel. But that doesn't matter right now. The look on his face. That alone told me whatever Tech found was bad.
Really bad.
Tech didn't look up right away. He clicked something, exhaled sharply, then finally turned the laptop toward me.
"You need to sit," he said.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
Rook growled, low and warning, "Just sit, Dad."
I dropped into the chair opposite Tech. My stomach was already twisting. I had a feeling this was about Sunny—my daughter who was asleep upstairs, too small in that damn bed after everything she'd been through.
Tech blew out a breath, pushed his glasses up, and started.
"So… the doctor didn't lie," he said. "He just didn't tell the whole truth. Or maybe he couldn't."
My shoulders tightened. "What does that mean?"
"It means what happened to Sunny is worse than anything that's officially recorded." He spun the laptop back to himself and pulled up a different file—darker, locked behind security no average hacker should've been able to touch. "I dug into her medical history. The hospital records from last night? They're clean. Too clean. Almost… edited."
"Edited by who?" Rook asked, voice deceptively calm.
Tech tapped the screen. "That hospital has ties to the Death Riders. Deep ones. Doctors, nurses—half the night staff is dirty. I traced login signatures. Her files have been accessed and altered for years. Every concussion? Labeled 'fall.' Every bruise? 'Ran into furniture.' Broken wrist at eight? 'Playground accident.' Internal scarring from an assault?"
Bear felt something inside him snap at that word—assault—but Tech continued.
"Written off as 'sports injury.' Except Sunny never played sports. Ever."
Silence hit the room like a bat.
Rook's hands curled into fists. "They covered it up," he said, voice rough. "They knew. And they covered it."
Tech nodded slowly. "Every mandated report that should have been filed never left the system. It was blocked. Deliberately. Someone high up kept wiping the alerts. That social worker, And based on the pattern?" He paused, face hardening. "It wasn't incompetence. It was protection. For the abuser."
Bear felt heat rising under his skin—rage, shame, fury, guilt—boiling together so hot he thought he might choke on it.
"Who?" he managed.
Tech met his eyes.
"Her stepfather was patched into the Death Riders at one point. Not active now, but enough to call in favors. Enough to keep everything buried. Marla Lynn, she is involved too. There are other connections, but I am not deep enough in yet to see who the Death Riders are working with."
Bear's vision went red.
Rook stiffened beside him. "Dad—"
But Bear was already standing, fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white.
"They hurt my kid," he said quietly. "They hurt her for years. And they used my world to hide it."
Tech swallowed. "Bear… this goes deeper than I thought. And if they know she's here? If anyone from the Riders finds out she's alive, with us—"
Rook finished the thought darkly. "They'll want her back. Or they'll want her gone."
The office felt too small. Too quiet. Too dangerous.
Bear forced himself to breathe, once, twice, because if he didn't, he'd walk out of the clubhouse, track down every Rider within fifty miles, and burn them to the ground.
Instead, he said:
"Lock everything down. Tech—get me every name involved. Every nurse. Every doctor. Every Rider connected to them."
Tech nodded. "Already on it."
"Rook," Bear said, voice low, lethal, "no one lays a hand on her again. Not the Riders. Not fate. Not fear. She's ours now."
Rook's jaw tightened. "On my life."
Bear exhaled, but the rage didn't fade. In fact… it felt like the beginning.
"What are you going to do, dad." Rook asked.
"Kill them all.