Page 3 of Bliss, Part 2

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.

I still do.

So when I reached the forest’s edge, I killed the engine and looked around for a moment. The trees were thick here. I parked on the side of the road and walked in with my heart pounding in my ears.

I didn’t know if anyone had looked here yet. I hadn’t seen Owen or the family out this far. But they’d been searching nonstop. That kind of love, that kind of desperation, you don’t fake it. You don’t sleep. You don’t eat. You don’t stop until you find them. And they hadn’t stopped. Not once.

That’s the kind of loyalty I respected. That’s the kind of fight I recognized. I wasn’t gonna let them do it alone.

I stepped into the woods and started walking.

Every rustle made my heart beat harder. Every fallen branch felt like it was hiding something. The air was heavy, and the ground was covered in more leaves than should’ve been there for summer. Something about it felt off. Like nature had dropped a blanket too thick, like it was trying to cover something up.

I kicked through it slowly, scanning the ground with every step, eyes darting between shadows. I didn’t call her name. Didn’t want to scare her if she was out here. If she was conscious.

I stopped when I reached a small stream and held my breath with my fists tight at my sides.

“There you are,”

I whispered.

She was lying on her side in a fetal position. Hair like snow. Pale skin. A bruise high on her cheekbone. My chest stopped moving.

I didn’t breathe for a moment, then, finally, I let my knees hit the dirt as I crouched next to her. I brushed the hair from her face, and her skin was ice cold. Her lips parted, her cheeks flushed in a way that didn’t look right.

I reached for her neck and pressed two fingers against her pulse point.

It was there. Weak, but there.

“Good girl,”

I breathed.

“You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get you home.”

I didn’t waste time. I texted my president, told him to call off the search. Called the cops next, then the ambulance and gave them my location.

And then I picked her up.

Carefully. So damn carefully. Like she was made of glass and one wrong move would shatter her. I didn’t know what had been done to her, but I wasn’t gonna let her stay out here one second longer. She was light in my arms. Her head dropped against my chest like she’d given up.

But she was still breathing.

And that meant something.

I carried her back through the trees, step by careful step, until I reached the road again. The ambulance wasn’t far. I could already hear the sirens.

I looked down at her and whispered, “You’re safe now, Bliss Langley. The nightmare’s over.”

***

The cops and ambulance showed up fast.

The paramedics moved fast. Oxygen. Blankets. Monitors. I didn’t interfere. I just stood back and gave them the space to work. When the cops turned to me for answers, I gave them everything. Names, suspicions, history, even the old case. I didn’t hold anything back.

“Thank you for your help,”

one of the officers said once they were done questioning me.

But I wasn’t done here yet. I nodded toward the ambulance.

“I’ll follow. Someone’s got to be there when her family shows up.”

***

The waiting room at the hospital was quiet at first, then the doors flew open and voices filled the space. Worried, frantic, choked with emotion. I watched Owen, his face a mask of terror and hope. He didn’t even see me at first until the officer gestured toward me. When he realized who I was, he walked straight over, hand out.

“Thank you,”

he said, breathless.

“Thank you.”

I ignored his hand and pulled him into a hug, thinking that was more appropriate in this moment.

“No need. I’m just glad she’s safe.”

Odin was next. He gripped his brother’s shoulder, eyes meeting mine.

“You have no idea how fucking thankful we are.”

“You don’t owe me shit,”

I told him.

“Just let me know how she’s doing.”

“We will. I promise.”

The others then came. Boys, four of them. Some with tears in their eyes. Some too shocked to speak. They thanked me one by one, and I let them. I didn’t know how they were related. I just knew that they were either Odin’s or Owen’s. But it didn’t really matter how they were related to Bliss. You could see it in the way they carried themselves that they were family. One unit. Bound by love and fear and relief.

The doctor came out to tell us that she was stable and probably awake soon.

“You can visit her now.”

I stepped back and let them go.

That was their moment. Not mine.

My part was done.

I didn’t want a reward. Didn’t want my name in the papers or any shit like that.

I just wanted Bliss to be okay. To know she made it. To see her family’s faces and feel safe again.

That was enough for me.