Page 55 of Savior

“Don’t say it, Mom,” she warned. “Don’t tell me that every marriage goes through rough times. I know that. I see it on a daily basis. This was different. We’d just reconnected and then it was like Nate was keeping something from me. He’d been adamant that I stay away from the club and… and my family.”

For months, I’d been laboring under the delusion that she was grieving and confused, the same as all of us. Suddenly, any goodwill I held toward Nate evaporated at the realization that he’d been the one responsible for all of it.

He didn’t know her, not like Dakota and I did. He didn’t know about the panic attacks or the night terrors. By forcing her to bottle up her emotions, he’d only made a terrible situation worse.

“I’m sorry,” Kate said through another sob. “I thought he was doing it to keep me safe, but I got this email.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and stabbed at the screen several times before sliding it over to me.

I watched in confusion as Nate conversed with a man in a hooded jacket before leading him toward the doors. “I’m not sure what this is supposed to prove,” I admitted. “It looks like he’s giving someone directions.”

“Don’t you see?” she asked, just as the kettle began to whistle. “That’s Dad. Nate was helping him escape the hospital. It’s why the club’s theory makes sense. They must’ve known what happened, and that’s why they’re convinced that Dad was the one behind Nan and Pop’s disappearance.”

I dragged my finger to the left, restarting the video from the beginning. The man was tall, that much was obvious, but it wasn’t Jamie.

I didn’t know how I knew, but I did.

“Wait,” I exclaimed. “When did you get this email? Was Nate home when it came through?”

Kate stayed silent, turning in a slow circle around the kitchen. Realizing what it was she was looking for, I directed her to the cabinet that contained the mugs before pointing to the ceramic canister of tea bags near the stovetop.

She added one to her mug with a nod. “Yeah, the first one was sent maybe thirty minutes after he got home.”

“The first one?” I asked, scrolling up to check the timestamps. “They kept sending the same email… why?”

“Maybe to ensure I got it? I don’t know. Do you want a cup?” She held up the kettle, and I nodded. “Why is it important?”

Think like Jamie.

What had he said about the Sons? Something about them being masters at moving people where they wanted them. What if they hadn’t gone dark, like everyone wanted to believe, but were still subtly moving us all into position?

But, to what end?

“It’s misdirection,” I said, moving off the barstool. “They’re still calling the shots, but in a way that no one will notice. Think about it, Kate. Why would the email keep coming through? The sender knew for a fact that your husband was home… maybe they even thought you’d confront him. It doesn’t matter. As long as we all end up on opposing sides, then we can’t fight them.”

Kate rolled her eyes, looking so much like her fifteen-year-old self that I did a double-take. “Nate and I have never had anything to do with the club. Why would they come after us? And why would a bunch of bikers care about my marriage?”

She set the mug down with a thud against the butcher block. “You really don’t want to believe that my father faked his own death. C’mon, Mom. He did it before, why wouldn’t he do it again?”

“Because the last time he did, I got hurt, and he swore to me he’d never do it again,” I quietly admitted, running my fingertips over the wood, tracing the grain intently as a way of avoiding her penetrating stare. “Right here in this very spot, we made promises to each other.”

I glanced up when Kate turned to face the two empty barstools. “I think...” She paused. “I think that maybe it’s time for the whole story. The truth. From start to finish.”

“It happened so long ago,” I protested. “And besides, we have bigger issues to worry about.”

Kate tapped her chin with her index finger. “That’s just it.” She placed her palms on the island, spreading them as if laying out a stack of papers. “There’s a connection between what happened to you and where we are now—”

“There is,” I said with a nod. “One of the men who… hurt me connected with Saint. That’s not a mystery. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. He died with his former club right before Dakota’s wedding.”

Kate’s eyes widened as she whispered, “My father was shot, and now, my grandparents are missing. They’re sending you a message. Mama, I think you’re the key to all of it.”

Death is comin’ for you…

I’d assumed once Cobra died that the Sons would move on. Nothing connected me to them. Maybe there was something I’d missed.

“We’re going to need Mikey,” I said firmly. I thought of his arms, covered in quotes about warfare and combat. A man who had been born on a battlefield.

He wasn’t all that different from his father, and if we stood any chance at defeating the Sons, we needed every member of our family on the same side. He was the closest thing to Jamie that we had.

Mikey’s overdose.

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