Page 87 of Texting the Wrong Bikers

“Owen is my home. My world. I would sacrifice everything for him.”

I don’t need to say the rest; they already know. For Owen, I’d give up the Wild Riders, I’d give up whatever tentative, fragile, incredible thing has been blossoming between the guys and me. Even if my heart is breaking as we walk out the door.

Chapter 27

Dash

I know something is wrong the second I see Dani’s name flash up on the screen. The burner phone we initially used to message Sadie has received exactly one message from Dani:

Give her space, assholes.

That was five days ago, the day after Sadie moved out of the clubhouse.

Five days shouldn’t feel this long. Normally, I barely notice anyone’s absence. But the clubhouse feels quieter without Sadie and Owen’s laughter drifting through the common room. Even Owen’s toys, which used to appear in impossible places and nearly kill unsuspecting bikers on a daily basis, have become something I miss. The worst part is that I understand why she left. Understanding it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Sadie won’t talk to any of us except me, and even then, her messages are sparse and distant. She refuses to let any of us see her. She needs space, I understand that, but I wish she’d let us continue to tail her from afar, to keep her safe. She made it clear that if she saw any of us following her, she’d never talk to us again. The threat sounded serious enough that we’ve stayed away. Doesn’t mean we’ve stopped trying to protect her. She’d be mad if she knew we’ve been following Ethan instead. But if we’re right and Ethan is behind this, we can get the evidence we need to stop him, to make sure Owen stays where he belongs, and that they’re both safe.

I’ve been parked up opposite Ethan’s house for most of the afternoon. Now and then, a curtain twitches or a neighbor wanders past walking a dog, but otherwise, the entire street seems frozen in place. I’ve spent most of the day convincing myself that boring is good. Boring means Sadie is safe. Boring means Ethan isn’t doing anything suspicious. Boring means we can finally put this nightmare behind us. Unfortunately, the moment Dani’s name appears on my screen, every comforting explanation evaporates. I accept the call.

“Is Sadie with you?” Dani asks, voice strangled.

Ice floods my veins. Sadie’s best friend is never serious, never afraid, but she sounds shit scared right now and that instantly makes my pulse spike.

“No. None of us has seen or heard from Sadie since she moved in with you five days ago,” I add, anticipating her next question.

“Shit,” she hisses. “I’m in the office today for a meeting, Sadie said she’d be fine and that she wouldn’t leave the house until it was time to pick Owen up from school. She said she’d come right back. I just got a call from the school asking if I could come pick Owen up since no one showed up and they couldn’t reach Sadie. I tried calling too, but her phone’s switched off. I called my neighbor, and she said she saw Sadie leave on foot an hour ago.”

I’m pissed that Dani didn’t call one of us when she knew she’d be out of the house today, leaving Sadie alone. If we’d known, there’s no way we’d have stayed away. “She didn’t take her car?”

“No… It’s still in the driveway.”

“Fuck.” That can’t be good. I’ve no idea why Sadie would have thought it was a good idea to walk there. “Have you gone home? Checked she’s definitely gone, or if there’s something wrong with her car?”

“Not yet, I need to get Owen.”

“Alright, one of the guys will go check it out.”

“Thanks, Dash, let me know if you find her, yeah?”

“Likewise.”

I’ve been sitting watching Ethan’s house all day, long enough for the afternoon sun to crawl slowly across the street and bake the black leather seat beneath me. Long enough to watch neighbors come and go, delivery drivers arrive and leave, and a pair of kids cycle up and down the pavement three separate times. My back aches. My neck aches. My patience disappeared hours ago. Through it all, Ethan hasn’t gone anywhere near Sadie.

He’s worked from home all day, he’s collected deliveries, he’s even walked outside at one point to argue with somebody on the phone, but he hasn’t gone anywhere near Sadie. It isn’t him. We were wrong.

For days, we’ve convinced ourselves that following Ethan was productive. Every hour spent watching him felt like an hour spent getting closer to an answer. Now all I can think about is the time we’ve wasted. The time we should have spent watching Sadie. Time that we could have spent keeping her safe.

“What if this fucking psycho stalker has taken her?” Dani chokes out, voicing the fear I’d had since the moment I saw Dani’s name on my screen.

“We’ll find her. Get Owen, take him to the clubhouse. Don’t stop for anyone. Hurry.”

I hang up, cutting off Dani’s grateful yet panicked confirmation. I reach for my helmet, hesitate, then place it back on the handlebars and climb off my bike. Striding up to the house, I quickly ring Ethan’s doorbell before I can consider whether I’m making a monumental mistake. Every instinct is screaming at me to get back on the bike. To ride out and scour every inch of the earth in search of her. Standing still feels impossible. But charging blindly around town won’t help Sadie. Information might. A lead might. Right now, Ethan is the only lead I’ve got.

Ethan isn’t the one who answers. It’s his new woman, the one he dumped Sadie for, Brielle. She’s pretty in an unremarkable way, and young. Maybe early twenties. I guess Ethan is the type of man who’ll spend his entire life trading in women for a younger model.

Standing in front of Brielle now, she looks nothing like the homewrecker I imagined. She looks nervous, and a little uncertain. Whatever else she might be, she doesn’t look like somebody capable of orchestrating or covering up for the kind of cruelty Sadie has been dealing with.

She smiles at me to start with, the kind of approving smile I’m used to getting from women. But then she spots the bike behind me, the cut on my jacket, and fear flashes in her eyes. She immediately tries to slam the door shut. The door meets my foot.