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Digger kept scrolling. "His father owns a small construction company in town—Kowalski & Sons." Digger's voice trailed off as he pulled up another document. "Someone died on site around five years ago. They proved it was negligence and…” Digger whistled. “The whole thing went away. The company settled out of court and kept their licenses." He frowned. “The majority of their work since has been with Coombes Construction.”
"Blood money," I growled. "Coombes bought his loyalty."
"Or threatened his family's livelihood," Bolt suggested. "Either way, we need to find him."
"His phone just pinged at a gas station on Highway 16," Digger reported. "Heading out of town and could be going to Coombes's estate."
"Let's move," I ordered, already heading for the door.
Jono grabbed my arm. "Bear, wait. We need a plan for when we catch up with him. We can't just storm in. The place is like a fortress."
"Watch me," I snarled, yanking my arm free.
"And get yourself killed?" Jono countered. "How does that help Matty?"
The mention of Matty's name cut through my rage. He was right. Charging in blindly wouldn't save Matty—it would just get me killed or arrested, leaving him with no one to rescue him.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to think. "Digger, what else do we know about Tik Tac? Does his father have any other properties or connections?"
Digger's fingers continued to fly across the keyboard. "Nothing I can see. Just his home, the main offices in town, and two equipment warehouses."
"Addresses for the warehouses?" I demanded.
Digger read them off. “Neither of them are near Coombes place.”
I swore. If we picked the wrong place, it would waste precious minutes where fuck knew what was happening to Matty.
“Bear, we can’t be everywhere. We need to get to Tik Tac and see what he knows.
I hated it, but Jono was right. "Agreed. Cruise, you and three others head straight for Coombes's estate. Jono, Bolt, Tex, we follow Tik Tac."
"I'm coming too," a voice said from behind me. I turned to find Daisy standing there, a determined look on her face.
"This isn't your fight," I told her.
"The hell it isn't," she replied, crossing her arms. "That boy was at my table, eating my cookies. And someone took him on my watch. I'm coming. Besides, you’re all going on your bikes, and you need a truck to bring Matty back in. You’ve left the others guarding the clubhouse."
I swallowed hard and Daisy met my gaze. We both knew she meant if Matty was hurt.
"Fine," I conceded. "But you stay back until we secure the scene."
"I'll bring my first-aid kit," she said, already moving. “I'm going to have Maria get the doc to be on standby.”
Twenty minutes later, we didn't need to say anything as Digger confirmed Tik Tac had stopped at a modest single-story home on Maple Street. The mailbox confirmed what Digger had already told us over comms—this was his mother's place.
"Wonder why he stopped here first," Jono muttered as we parked our bikes around the corner, out of sight. "Family goodbye or getting instructions?"
I watched the house through narrowed eyes. "Or grabbing something Coombes needs."
Bolt adjusted his earpiece. "Digger says Tik Tac's phone is still active inside. No outgoing calls yet."
We waited, engines off, the afternoon sun beating down on us. Daisy and Bolt were on their way in the truck. Every minute that passed felt like an eternity, my mind conjuring increasingly horrific scenarios of what Matty might be enduring.
"Movement," Tex whispered, nodding toward the house.
Tik Tac emerged, his posture rigid with tension. He glanced around furtively before heading to his bike, a small duffel bag now slung over his shoulder. Whatever was in there, it wasn't clothes—the bag hung too heavily, its contents dense.
"Now," I ordered, and we moved as one.