Wrecked By A Wounded Biker

Chapter 13 - Impact

THE INVESTIGATION stopped moving. That was the problem.

For nearly a week, every lead Sophie and the others pursued seemed to disappear the moment they got close enough to touch it.

The missing witness remained missing. The shell companies remained hidden behind layers of legal protections. The financial records led to more financial records.

Every answer created three new questions.

Even Lucien's team seemed frustrated.

That alone was alarming.

Normally, Keller Capital's analysts operated with almost unsettling efficiency. Yet every update arriving from the forensic department sounded increasingly similar.

No new developments. No confirmed identities. No breakthrough.

Nothing.

By Thursday afternoon, Sophie felt like she was running in circles.

Which was exactly why she ignored Lucien's suggestion to wait for backup before following a lead.

In hindsight, that decision was stupid.

Unfortunately, hindsight tended to be extremely helpful after the damage was already done.

The tip had seemed promising.

One of Lucien's analysts had uncovered references to an abandoned warehouse previously used by a logistics company connected to the racing network.

The location itself was unremarkable.

What mattered was that someone had recently accessed the property despite it supposedly being vacant.

Sophie only intended to take a quick look.

Thirty minutes later, she found herself climbing through a partially open side entrance while questioning every life decision that had brought her there.

The warehouse was dark and mostly empty. Dust covered the floor. Broken shelving units lined several walls.

At first glance, the building appeared abandoned.

At second glance, it appeared recently abandoned.

Sophie moved carefully through the space while photographing anything that seemed potentially useful.

Several discarded shipping manifests caught her attention. So did a stack of damaged computer equipment near the rear loading area.

She was crouched beside one of the boxes when she heard movement. Instinct immediately took over. Someone else was inside.

Sophie's pulse accelerated. She stood and moved toward the sound.

The figure disappeared around a corner. "Hey!"

The person immediately ran. So did Sophie.

The decision happened before logic had time to intervene.

The chase carried them through a maze of old storage areas and narrow pathways between equipment. The stranger vaulted over a stack of crates.

Sophie followed.

Unfortunately, the crate shifted beneath her weight and her foot slipped. Pain exploded through her arm as she crashed into a metal support beam before hitting the floor.

The stranger disappeared.

Sophie sat there for several seconds, breathing hard. "Fantastic."

Blood trickled down her forearm.

Her wrist throbbed. Everything hurt. The lead was gone.

And she had absolutely no intention of explaining this to Matthew.

Two hours later, Matthew found out anyway.

Sophie should have known better. Showing up at Moore Customs with a bloody sleeve had never been a realistic plan.

The moment she walked into the garage, Matthew spotted her. The reaction was immediate. His expression changed so quickly it almost gave her whiplash.

"What happened?"

Several mechanics looked up.

Sophie attempted a casual shrug. "It looks worse than it is."

Matthew was already crossing the garage. "Sophie."

"I'm fine."

"You are bleeding."

"Technically."

His stare could have stripped paint from walls. Within seconds, he was steering her toward the small office at the back of the garage.

"Sit."

She sat. Mostly because arguing seemed unwise.

Matthew disappeared briefly before returning with a first-aid kit. The moment he saw the cut properly, his jaw tightened.

"You chased somebody."

Sophie blinked. "How did you know that?"

"Because normal people don't collect injuries like this."

"I'm touched by your confidence in me."

Matthew ignored her. The silence that followed was somehow more concerning. He carefully rolled up her sleeve. The cut wasn't deep. The bruise forming along her forearm looked considerably worse.

Still, Matthew's expression suggested she had narrowly survived a war zone. "Say something."

"No."

"Matthew."

"I sai, say something."

Sophie sighed. "You're overreacting."

His head snapped up. The look he gave her suggested she had temporarily lost all common sense.

"I'm overreacting?" His voice rose. "Do you have any idea what kind of phone call I got?"

She frowned. "What phone call?"

"Lucien called me."

That surprised her. "He did?"

"He told me you got hurt."

Sophie groaned. "Traitor."

Matthew looked unimpressed. "I had to hear from another man that you were injured."

The statement silenced her. Not because it sounded possessive. Because it sounded worried. Genuinely worried.

Matthew returned his attention to the cut. The movement became gentler and careful. Almost painfully so. The contrast softened something inside her.

For several moments, neither spoke.

Then Matthew finally broke the silence. "You scared me."

The admission was quiet. Almost reluctant.

Sophie looked at him.

Matthew kept his eyes focused on her arm. "You walked into this investigation knowing it was dangerous."

"I know."

"You keep chasing people,” he said. "You keep acting like you're invincible."

That made her smile. "I am not acting invincible."

Matthew laughed. The sound carried zero amusement. "Sophie, you chased a suspect through an abandoned warehouse by yourself."

"That does sound bad when you say it out loud."

"It sounded bad before I said it."

The corner of her mouth twitched.

Matthew shook his head. Then his expression gradually softened. "You don't have to do everything alone."

The statement felt strangely familiar. Because she had said almost the same thing to him. Many times.

Sophie leaned back in the chair. "Neither do you."

Matthew became quiet. The response clearly landed somewhere important.

For a while, only the sounds of the garage filled the room.

Eventually, Sophie spoke again. "Why does debt scare you so much?"

Matthew paused. The question surprised him. She saw it immediately.

"I know the obvious answer," she continued. "Nobody likes debt. But for you it's different."

His hands stilled. The silence stretched long enough that she thought he might refuse to answer.

Instead, he sat back.

For the first time since she'd met him, Matthew looked uncertain. "My father lost everything when I was thirteen."

Sophie remained silent. Matthew rarely talked about his family.

"My parents owned a small repair shop." His gaze drifted toward the office window. "It wasn't much. But it paid the bills and Jennie’s tuition." His smile carried no humor. "Then my dad trusted the wrong business partner."

Sophie listened carefully. Jennie is Matthew’s sister, who was also her best friend. The story clearly wasn't one he shared often.

"One bad loan became another. Then another." Matthew exhaled slowly. "I remember people showing up at our house. I remember hearing my parents argue at night when they thought I was asleep."

Something tightened painfully in Sophie's chest.

"We lost the shop." Matthew laughed softly. "Then we lost almost everything else. Jennie stopped college, but you helped her."

Sophie smiled. “Jennie is my best friend. I always got her back.”

The office felt smaller suddenly. More intimate. More honest.

"I started working as soon as I could." His eyes met hers. "And I promised myself I would never end up there again."

Understanding settled inside her. For years she had viewed Matthew's pride as stubbornness. Now she saw the fear underneath it.

Debt wasn't numbers to him.

Debt was loss.

Debt was instability.

Debt was watching people he loved fall apart.

"You'd rather drown than ask for help."

The words escaped before she could stop them.

Matthew smiled sadly. "Apparently."

Sophie stared at him. Then something unexpected happened. The frustration she'd carried toward him for weeks simply disappeared. Not entirely. But enough.

Enough to see him differently. Enough to finally understand.

Without thinking, she reached for his hand. Matthew looked surprised. So was she.

"Soph."

Her name sounded different when he said it. Matthew's thumb brushed against hers. The simple contact sent warmth through her entire body.

Sophie's phone began ringing. She laughed softly and checked the screen. The amusement disappeared immediately.

It was Lucien.

"What's wrong?" she asked as soon as she answered.

"We found something,” Lucien answered.

Sophie's pulse accelerated. "What?"

Lucien sounded grim. "The race sabotage network isn't operating locally."

Every trace of warmth vanished.

Sophie straightened immediately. "What do you mean?"

"Our analysts traced several transactions through foreign intermediaries."

Matthew's expression darkened.

Lucien continued. "The infrastructure isn't being controlled from here."

Sophie felt her stomach drop. "If it's not local..."

"It means somebody overseas is coordinating part of the operation."

The implications hit instantly. The missing witness, shell companies, sophisticated hacking, and financial laundering.

None of it was as small as they had assumed.

The conspiracy had just expanded beyond national borders.

And suddenly, the investigation looked far more dangerous than any of them had imagined.