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I freeze, not knowing the name and trying to combat the spike of jealousy that hits me. I know Tyler hasn’t been with a woman in years, he shared as much already when I asked him about his road name. I thought it was kind of funny—a biker who doesn’t chase women—since it goes against the stereotype.
I hadn’t even considered that he wasn’t with anyone because of a woman. Did he love her? Were they married or something? What happened to her?
I swallow hard and try to school my face into a neutral expression, but by the slight smirk on Tyler’s face I’m not nearly fast enough. Damn it.
“My sister,” there is so much raw pain in those two words. They would bring me to my knees if I were standing.
“Tyler,” I whimper softly and wrap my arms around my giant of a man the best I can. If I could crawl inside of him and give him comfort, I would. “I realize I haven’t known you for very long, and I sure as hell don’t know what happened, but there is no way you failed her. There’s just no way,” my voice is firm.
He buries his face in the crook of my neck and shakes his head. “I did. She needed me and it took me too long to find her.”
The blood in my veins goes cold. He had to find her? So many scenarios are flying through my head. Yeah, I really need to lay off the true crime shit. Each option is more heinous than the last, but I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
I run my fingers through his hair, which is barely long enough for me to really do it. There’s a glimmer of hope in my voice; maybe it’s not as bad as I think it is, “But you found her?”
“Found her too late. I was too late,” his words are muffled against my skin, but I feel them throughout my entire body.
Was she dead when he found her? Who took her? Fuck, I have so many questions, but I don’t know if I have a right to ask them.
“Tell me,” I prod him gently, hoping he’ll open up.
It’s clear that whatever happened is a festering wound inside of him. He hasn’t let it heal. He’s simply ignored it for however long. It hasn’t gone away. It hasn’t gotten better. It’s just there and he’s accepted it as part of who he is.
But I know this man. I’ve fallen in love with this man.
He’s not cruel. He’s not a failure. How strong he is leaves me filled with awe. How good he is makes me love him a little more every second I’m around him.
“She was abducted by a human trafficking ring,” his voice is hardened steel. The hatred for those who hurt his sister is clear, it thrums around us, cocooning us and growing with every breath he takes. “I was just a prospect back then, but one of the reasons I wanted to be a Devil’s Saint was because I knew they worked to take down bad men who do bad things. It’s why I approachedthemto be a prospect when normally you need to know someone and be invited.”
I run my fingers over my man, hoping to give him some comfort. Hoping I don’t lose him to the memories. Hoping I’m strong enough to hold us both up because I know, without a doubt, his story is devastating.
“They didn’t have to listen to me, but I knew Sofia and I knew something was wrong. She called me every night when she got home. It wasn’t something she fought me on, not after our parents died and we were all we had left.”
I try and keep my voice steady, “Was she older or younger than you?”
He chuckles, “Older by two years, but I was always bigger and protective of her.”
I smile and run my hand down his back. “I bet she both hated and loved that,” I tease him gently, not wanting to lose him to the darkness.
“She did, but after our parents died, she didn’t seem to mind as much. She wasn’t thrilled I was prospecting, but she understood I wanted to make a difference and was searching for something.”
“A brotherhood,” I echo his words back to me from when we talked about his road name and how much the club means to him.
“Yes,” he sighs. “A brotherhood that came in very handy when Sofia didn’t check in. They didn’t have to listen to me or help me at all. I wasn’t a brother, but when I went to the club needing help they didn’t hesitate. Not even the cops would have gotten involved yet because she wasn’t missing long enough.”
“But you knew,” I murmur.
“I knew,” his voice goes deeper, like the memories are right there at the surface. “She always checked in and I always checked in with her. It was our thing. Our way to connect.” He takes a deep breath and pulls his head away from my neck, his eyes dark with so much emotion as he stares at me. “It took us a few days to find her, the club used all their resources. When we did, she was being held with other women who had also been taken. They were going to be transported out of the country to be auctioned off. I never thought I’d see my sister alive again, especially after we knew who took her.”
“So, you weren’t too late.” Fuck, the hope in my voice is going to be dashed from the way my strong man’s shoulders slump.
“She was alive,” he confirms. “But she was already broken. Raped, tortured, and tormented.” He closes his eyes; pain radiating from him. “She couldn’t take what happened to her. I was the one who found her when she killed herself.”
I gasp and can’t stop the tears as they start to slide down my face. I’m already holding him, but I practically launch myself at him, needing to be closer, needing to shield him from the reality of his past. Needing to make it all go away.
But I can’t. It happened.
He found her.
