Page 29 of Savior

Molly patted the empty seat beside her, but I remained standing. “Come here, Celia,” she sighed. “Just hear me out, okay? Do you really think that Bear would’ve rolled over on the club—that he would’ve turned his back on Grey?”

“I… I don’t know,” I finally admitted. “Look at it from my angle, Molly. He inherited the club and immediately turned his back on my family as if we’d done something wrong. People we’ve known for years no longer give us the time of day. The girl I’ve been friends with since high school won’t return my calls or texts… how does that look to you?”

Her jaw clenched, but she nodded again. “It looks really fucking guilty. You know how the club operates, though. Women are always the last to know anything—”

I laughed at the lie. “Last to know? Since when Molly? What, did you lose your ‘magical powers’ after Dakota’s wedding?”

“You know that’s not fair,” she said with a small smile. “I’ve only ever been able to get minor details out of Bear… not a step-by-step plan for world domination.”

“Well, don’t leave me hanging. What minor details has he given you that left you feeling confident in the club again? I know you didn’t come here for social reasons.”

Molly ran a hand through her hair and slid her toes along the wooden planks of the porch, pulling the swing from side to side. “Bear is handling things,” she began.

I leveled my index finger at her, just as I had with the girls when they were younger, spinning their webs of lies to avoid getting into trouble. “Don’t. That club isn’t doing one thing to find my husband, so don’t try to convince me otherwise.”

“Bear thinks that Grey worked a deal with the FBI, maybe even the CIA to disappear,” she rushed out with a sigh. “It’s the most plausible explanation for where he is, Celia. Maybe he’s going to take down the Sons from another angle. It’s… it’s genius, really.”

I shook my head, my jaw tightening in anger over the same worn-out excuses that people kept reciting as truth. “No. He left me once before and afterward promised me that he’d never do it again. We almost lost everything because of it, so enlighten me as to why he’d think that leaving us vulnerable for a second time was a lucrative option?”

“I’m not saying we know for sure… it’s just one of the theories the club has—”

“When he faked his death before, every member of that club knew about it. It doesn’t make sense that he’d accidentally forget to clue them in this time, does it?”

Her lips moved into a flat line. “Celia, someone in that clubhouse was giving up intel. Why would Grey announce his plans without knowing who the traitor is? By faking his death, he can observe the club and draw out the rat without anyone growing suspicious.”

It made sense, and I hated her for it.

“But Mikey announced that the casket was empty in front of the club. The traitor has to know—”

“I agree,” she interjected. “But if anything, that should just make them more nervous… more likely to slip up. That’s what we’re counting on. If the rat feels cornered, he’s going to do something stupid, and maybe, it’ll lead us right to the Sons.”

“Why wouldn’t he tell me, though?” It was the question that I’d been turning over in my mind, pulling at it like a loose thread in the hopes that it would unravel the mystery.

“Maybe he thought it’d make you a target again. He told you before, and you were tortured for it. He must’ve figured out that the Sons had eyes everywhere and decided to make it as realistic as possible. You had a funeral—”

“What if you’re wrong?” I asked.

“What other explanation is there, Celia?”

I looked down at my shoes, knowing it would’ve been easier to believe that he was dead.

He’d promised me.

“If you’re wrong, then the club is wasting valuable time going in circles when we could be out there searching for him. Did Bear put you up to this? Was this the message he wanted to send?”

Molly shook her head. “There was only one message that Bear had for you. He said to trust him. And that…” She paused as if trying to remember. “The day he takes off his kutte is the day you’ll know he’s surrendering.”

Her words triggered a memory of me in the kitchen with Jamie, eating fried Spam sandwiches, happy for the first time in years.

I know now, and still, I chose to stay. The day I take it off is the day you’ll know I’ve given up on us.

My hand was hidden in the evening shadows, but I could still feel the weight of my wedding band against my finger. I hadn’t taken it off.

I just had to trust that Jamie hadn’t either and that Bear had a plan to keep us all safe.

* * *

We have the girls’ money.

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