Page 55 of Riding the Line (Steel Saints MC #1)
The lake house had always been my favorite place.
Tucked into the trees, with its creaking dock and wide open view of the water, it was the one spot where everything felt quiet—where the world slowed down enough to let me breathe.
Today, though, it was anything but quiet.
Laughter spilled from the back deck, where the long table was crammed with food, beer bottles, and more people than the furniture was probably rated for.
A few days ago, Shelly had flown down from Charleston, and now she sat between Maria and Holly, already deep in conversation like they’d known each other for years.
I had known they’d click—three smart, stubborn, take-no-bullshit women?
It was inevitable. The four of us quickly became a unit, and I believed Maria was doing her damn best to convince Shelly to move down here to Atlanta.
I smiled as Shelly laughed her off and sat back, eyeing the men across from her.
Swirling a beer in her hand, eyes sharp as ever, she pinned Mac and Dalton with a look. “I’ve got one rule. You hurt her? I will make sure you regret it.”
Mac raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Yes, ma’am.”
Dalton smirked over the rim of his glass. “We know the drill, detective. She’s the queen. We’re just her loyal subjects.”
“Damn right,” Shelly said, clinking her bottle against their whiskey glasses.
I watched everything from the patio door, and Mac looked over at me.
His soft smile beckoned me closer, and I walked over, taking a seat on his knee.
I leaned back, watching them all—the people I loved most in the world, laughing and teasing each other as the sun sank low over the water, setting the lake on fire with gold and rose.
Rodney fiddled with the napkins, occasionally stealing glances at Shelly and then blushing crimson when she would catch him staring.
The evening was perfect, but then suddenly Mac’s phone rang, and he scooted me to his other knee so he could grab it.
He glanced down, looked at Dalton, and grinned. “It’s Hartwell.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Hartwell? My Hartwell?”
“Apparently,” he said, then accepted the call and lifted it to his ear. “Hello?”
A muffled voice barked through the line loud enough for me to hear. “Damn thing won’t… hold on, I swear this was on speaker—how the hell do I get the camera to work on this godforsaken phone?! Where’s the button?!”
Mac shook his head and passed me the phone. “Think this one’s for you.”
Dalton leaned forward, and I glanced between the two of them before looking around at the rest of the table. Everyone was watching me.
I took the phone, confused as hell. “Lieutenant?”
“Katie! Finally. Can you hear me?”
“Uh, yes sir, loud and clear. Just think of it like a very fancy walkie-talkie. What’s going on?”
“Give me a second. The tech guy told me this part was simple, but he didn’t mention these stupid touchscreen things are possessed… There, got it!”
The screen flashed, and suddenly I was staring at the familiar Charleston precinct. I blinked. “Is that…? ”
“Recognize the place?” Hartwell asked, a rare warmth in his voice.
I nodded and teased, “From my worst nightmares. What’s going on? Everything—”
I stopped speaking, stopped breathing when I caught sight of a handful of people I never expected to see again.
They stood in the background, huddled together.
Kelly MacIntyre’s aunt. Anastasia Little’s mom and dad.
Gabriella Santiago’s whole family—her brother clutching a pint of cookies and cream ice cream.
. My stomach flipped, heart rising into my throat.
“Why are they—?”
A door opened just off-screen. A social worker walked in with a hand resting gently on a young girl’s shoulder.
Then another.
Then another.
It was them.
Them .
Tiny faces, tired and thinner, but alive .
Their hair longer, some of their clothes too big or too small, but they were there.
Safe . Their eyes lit up the moment they spotted their families, and all hell broke loose in the most beautiful way possible.
Screams of joy. Tears. The sound of feet running across linoleum as kids launched themselves into arms that had been empty for far too long.
“Mommy!”
“Auntie Mae!”
I covered my mouth with my free hand. If I hadn’t been sitting, I would’ve hit the ground. Tears began to run down my cheeks, and Mac pulled me closer into him. I hadn’t realized I was shaking until Dalton scooted closer, reaching for me.
“Katie?” Hartwell said. “They’re home. You did it.”
I could barely breathe. “I didn’t find them. I… thought they were gone.”
“No,” he said, “but they did. Dalton. Mac. They didn’t stop. They tracked the last link down. Ran it to the ground. The Feds handled the final extraction, but it was your boys that cracked it open.”
In the background, Gabriella’s mother picked her daughter off the floor, clinging to the girl like a lifeline. She came closer, until she was right there, and Hartwell handed the phone to her.
I knew her voice, her daughter’s face. “I can never repay what you have done for my family. God bless you. God bless you all.”
I barely managed a trembly smile as the screen flooded with kids and families all trying to say thank you at once.
“We thought you should see it,” Hartwell said, a little gruff. “Closure. Not for a case. For you .”
I looked over at Mac and Dalton, both watching me with that same look in their eyes.
I turned the phone so they could see the screen.
They both went still. Mac’s grip on me got just a bit tighter.
Dalton leaned closer to the screen, and to me.
I smiled at them, trying desperately to tell them everything I was thinking with a look.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Hartwell just grunted. “Don’t make me sentimental, kid. That’s your thing.”
The screen went dark. I sat there for a long moment, phone in my lap, heart full to bursting.
I looked over at Holly and Jackson, both whom offered me a warm smile.
A glance at my friends who had become family.
This little slice of heaven that was never supposed to be mine.
Cliff was openly crying too, and Rodney handed him one of the napkins that he had been fiddling with.
Shelly met my eyes and winked “You did it. Best damn cop I ever worked with.”
I shook my head. “ We did it. All of us.”
They were safe.
They were home.
And so was I.