Page 21 of Savage

As Savage delved deeper into Savannah's online presence, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was crossing a line. But the memory of her skittish behavior, the fear he'd glimpsed in her eyes, steeled his resolve. Whatever secrets she was hiding, he'd uncover them. For the club's sake. And, more importantly, for hers.

He clicked on a photo album labeled “Family,” and a grid of images filled his screen. His breath caught as he zeroed in on a picture of Savannah, her arms wrapped around a young girl with matching auburn hair. His heart skipped a beat. Was she a mother? He let out a breath after reading the caption. An aunt. He wouldn’t have minded if she was a mother, but it would have added a level of questions and concern to the puzzle.

“Well,” Tater leaned in, peering at the screen. “Looks like Savannah has at least some family, after all.”

Savage nodded, his jaw clenching. "Niece, and there's a younger sister too.” He pointed to another photo, this one showing Savannah sandwiched between the child and a woman who could've been her twin. “Looks like the two of them have moved to Denver, from the looks of it.” The photograph was recent, and the caption gave him the info he needed.

Lucky's brow furrowed. “Interesting she never mentioned them considering how close they look in the photos. Any sign of past relationships?"

Savage shook his head, scrolling through more photos. “Nothing. It's like her romantic history's been wiped clean.” Or, she didn’t have one. That would mean she’d lied to him. He tried not to jump to conclusions. She wouldn’t be the first woman to delete all proof of an ex from her socials.

Tater snorted. “Maybe she erased it. Wouldn't be the first time someone tried to erase their past.”

As Savage studied a photo of Savannah beaming at her niece, a knot formed in his stomach. The joy in her eyes was genuine, but there was something else there too – a shadow, a hint of worry that he recognized all too well. What was eating at her?

“Why wouldn't she at least tell the girls about them?” Savage muttered, more to himself than the others. She’d definitely given off the vibe that she was all alone in the world. His protective instincts, honed by years in combat and the club, kicked into overdrive. “Something's not right here. I can feel it in my gut. I don’t think she is trouble, but…”

Lucky leaned back, his face etched with concern. “But you think she isinsome kind of trouble?”

Savage's eyes never left the screen, taking in every detail of Savannah's smiling face. “I don't know,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I'm damn well going to find out.”

He froze mid-scroll as a black-bordered post filled the screen. The words "In Loving Memory" hovered above a photo of an older woman with Savannah's kind eyes and smile. His breath caught in his throat.

“Fuck,” he whispered, the weight of the emotion behind her post settling on his broad shoulders like a physical burden. Savannah had a way with words, and he could feel every ounce of her grief. Her mother had been her best friend, and her loss left a huge void in her life.

Tater leaned in. "What is it, brother?"

“Her mother,” Savage managed, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “Passed away six months ago. I knew they were close but this post cements exactly how close they were. I know she’s still grieving.”

The clubhouse seemed to grow quieter, the usual background noise fading as Savage stared at the image. He could almost imagine her grief-stricken face as she stood by her mother's grave.

“Her mother’s death broke her,” he murmured, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.

Lucky's voice cut through the silence. “There's more. Look at the comments.”

Savage scrolled down, his piercing blue eyes narrowing as he read a particular message: "So sorry for your loss, Savannah. Let me know if you need help with the funeral expenses. I know times are tough for you right now.”

“Funeral expenses?” Tater echoed, leaning closer. “Those can set a person back thousands of dollars.”

He continued to read. “Thank you. I’ve got it covered. I took out a loan for her medication and had enough to cover the funeral.”

Savage's mind raced. Savannah worked for housekeeping at a cheap hotel when her mom had cancer. No way she was able to take out a loan of that size without collateral. His fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up information on loan companies near Savannah's old address. A familiar name jumped out at him, sending a chill down his spine.

“Fucking A.”

“What?” Tater looked over his shoulder.

“The loan company a block from Savannah’s mom’s house is a front for The Rejects,” he growled, his jaw clenching.

Lucky's face darkened. “You think she borrowed from them?”

“If she had, would she have been able to pay them back? If not…” Tater’s implication went unspoken but not unheard.

Savage pushed back from the table, his chair scraping against the floor. “I'd bet my last fucking dollar on it.” His heart pounded, a mix of anger and fear coursing through his veins. “If they've got their hooks in her…”

He left the sentence unfinished, but the implications hung heavy in the air. Savage's mind whirled with possibilities, each more dangerous than the last. The urge to protect Savannah, toshield her from whatever trouble she'd stumbled into, surged through him with an intensity that caught him off guard. If she was in over her head, maybe she’d come here to run from them. If she was running from The Rejects, it would be a lot more serious than running from an ex.

“We need to dig deeper,” he said, his voice low and determined. “Find out exactly what kind of mess she's in.”

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