Page 4 of Savior

“Mikey,” I said suddenly, looking to Angel. “Someone needs to call him. He should be here.”

In case Jamie doesn’t pull through.

Wolverine shook his head. “Sons showed up at his house, Celia. Place looks like a goddamned bomb went off inside.”

The breath hitched in my chest, and I brought my hand up, running my knuckles roughly over my sternum before wheezing, “Is he? Oh my god, and Lauren?”

“They’re both alive… thank Christ, but it don’t sit right with me. Why tonight? Why’d they choose to go after the badge we got in our pocket same time as Grey?”

The meaning behind his question hung heavy in the air.

How had the Sons known what Jamie had fought to keep hidden?

The same way they’d known where to find him. Someone he trusted had betrayed him.

But who?

“Maybe they planned on cleaning house… anyone associated with the club was fair game? I don’t know.” Zane ran a hand over his face, clearly fighting a yawn. He’d probably imagined his wedding night going very differently. I almost felt bad for him, until I remembered that one of his cop buddies had been working with the Sons too. My husband might as well have had a flashing neon sign above his head.

Minutes blended into hours with no updates. Wolverine paced while Molly pushed her sugar-laden coffee on every single person in the room. Kate would doze against my shoulder, only to jerk awake seconds later, frantically checking her phone for messages that weren’t there.

Finally, just as the first rays of sunlight streamed in through the cracks in the blinds, someone entered, and the world as I’d known it for twenty-seven years ceased to exist. The ringing in my ears intensified to the point that I wanted to clap my hands against the side of my head, drowning out the words of the chaplain.

I’d been in a perpetual freefall for what seemed like forever but saw the ground rapidly rising up to meet me with five simple words.

“Your husband didn’t make it.”

Chapter One

Celia: Present Day

The rain that had been coming down in sheets for most of the morning turned to icy sleet, pelting my skin with fury. Still, I remained on the small stone bench, utterly immune to the cold. The pale pink blossoms were long gone from the Redbud tree that Jamie had planted for our baby; leaving behind flat brown seed pods and frozen branches.

I looked up at it, feeling empty.

Hollow.

Just like that tree, I’d been left bare, stripped of my protector.

My dream of the two of us on a beach had been just that. A dream.

I squeezed my eyes shut, still seeing his blood against the asphalt… hearing the sounds I’d made when the doctor finally appeared in the waiting room.

“You need anything?”

I pulled myself from my thoughts and looked over my shoulder. “Louisa? When did you get here?”

“Oh, Celia.” Her lips trembled, and she pressed her fingers to them before joining me on the bench. “I’ve been here since… since the day he… passed. You know, it’s a lot warmer inside the house—”

“No,” I stated firmly. Lucy had already gone into nursing mode, pushing me to eat and sleep as if that alone could piece me back together.

There was a traitor, masquerading as a biker, inside my house. I refused to break bread with a man who’d given up Jamie’s location; a man who’d sentenced him to die at his own daughter’s wedding.

“It was a lovely service,” Lou tried again.

Was it?

I’d been forced to say goodbye to my blond biker in the same cemetery I’d fallen in love with him in. As I’d looked around at the other mourners, I was seventeen again, sitting underneath a large oak tree, discussing mythology.

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