Page 86 of Texting the Wrong Bikers

Trigger slaps his palm down on the counter. “He broke into your house.”

“You don’t know that! Did he admit it?”

“He didn’t need to. The fucker had guilt written all over his face.”

I don’t want to defend Ethan, but I’m furious. “Two bikers turn up on his doorstep in the early hours of the morning, no doubt threatening him. How’s he supposed to look?” I say, stabbing a finger toward him. “And if you get arrested for intimidating him, or if he tells a judge that his son is living with a motorcycle club that is harassing him, who do you think that hurts?”

The silence that follows tells me they know exactly how badly they fucked up.

“Owen,” I say quietly. “It hurts Owen.”

Some of the anger drains from Trigger’s face, guilt seeps into his eyes.

“You could jeopardize my custody arrangement if you act like this,” I continue. “You’re supposed to be protecting us, not handing Ethan ammunition to take my son from me.” Nobody argues, which somehow makes me even more frustrated. “How could you be so reckless?”

My phone pings and I automatically glance at it. It’s a voicenote from Ethan. I don’t need to listen to it to know what it says.

“We’re trying to protect you,” Trigger says, his voice wheedling, as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as me.

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re making things worse.” I try to ignore the flash of pain that crosses their faces, my words cutting like a knife.

The worst case scenarios run through my mind. Ethan winning custody, Owen being taken away from me. If that happens, I won’t even care what the stalker has planned for me, my world will be destroyed already.

“Maybe this was a mistake.”

I don’t even realize I’ve said the thought aloud until Chief quietly asks. “What was?”

Shadow doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, as if he already knows my answer. Trigger’s jaw finally unclenches, his mouth hanging open, his eyes frantically searching my face.

“This,” I gesture widely. “All of it.” I suddenly feel bone weary.

I turn my back and walk toward Owen’s room, ignoring the guys’ questions as they follow behind me, ignoring their pleas as they realize what I’m doing. Owen doesn’t wake as I enter his room, but Dash does. He blinks, blearily looking up at us all in confusion, his hair standing on end. Realization dawns in his expression as he figures out that something is wrong, very wrong.

“Sadie? Is everything—”

“Can you help me get Owen settled in the car?” I ask. Right now, Dash is the only one I’m not pissed at. He was here all night babysitting. Though I’m sure the guys didn’t keep him totally in the dark like me, he still wasn’t part of it.

He blinks. “Now?”

“Yes. I’m going to Dani’s place.”

His eyes warily look to the guys behind me.

“If you don’t, I’ll do it myself. But we’re going.”

He nods once. “Okay.” He stands and gently scoops Owen up. Owen stirs and sighs before nuzzling in closer, his head lolling on Dash’s shoulder.

Trigger tries to block my path. “Sadie. Don’t go.” His pained expression almost makes me pause, but I harden my heart. I need to think of Owen now.

“Trigger. Move.” When he doesn’t, I soften my tone, trying to convey that I’m not ending things, at least I don’t think I am. “I need space to process all this.”

Chief places a hand on his shoulder, and after a moment, Trigger slumps and steps aside. Shadow steps forward. “Sadie, promise me you won’t go home?”

“That house stopped being home a long time ago.”

Before this even, before Ethan left. No. I won’t go back. Not now, maybe not ever.

The clubhouse had been starting to feel like home, but now I’m not so sure.