Chapter 8
Talia
The phone buzzes against the motel carpet.
Once.
Then again.
The sound slides into my dream like a wasp.
I wake with Jayce’s arm locked around my waist, his chest hot against my back, and weak morning light leaking around the curtains.
For one stupid second, I don’t move.
Because I’m warm.
Because I’m sore.
Because Jayce is wrapped around me like the world might try to take me in my sleep.
Then the phone buzzes again.
My heart stops.
Brianna.
I know it before I see the screen. Maybe that’s stupid. Maybe that’s hope being an idiot in pretty shoes. But I know.
I carefully lift Jayce’s arm.
It does not move.
Of course.
The man is a human bear trap.
I try again, slower this time, sliding out from under his hold inch by careful inch. His brow pulls tight, and he makes a low sound in his chest that sends my pulse into a very unfortunate little spin.
“Stay,” he mutters.
My whole body goes soft.
No.
No, no, no.
We are not being soft about sleepy biker commands.
“I need the bathroom,” I whisper.
His arm loosens.
Barely.
Enough.
I slip free and sit up, biting my lip when soreness pulls through me. A deep, intimate ache that reminds me exactly how I got it.
I glance back at him.
Mistake.
Jayce is sprawled on the blanket, shirtless, one arm bent near his head, dark hair messy, silver at his temples catching the pale light. Scars and ink mark his chest.
Even asleep, he looks like trouble with a pulse.
My phone buzzes again.
I grab it.
Missed calls: Brianna.
Then another incoming call lights up the screen.
Brianna.
My lungs stop working.
I look at Jayce.
He is still out, or doing a very good impression of it.
I should wake him.
I know I should wake him.
But if I do, he will take the phone. He will say maybe. He will say trace, bait, trap, proof.
And maybe he will be right.
But my sister is calling me.
I move fast and silent into the bathroom, closing the door until there’s only a sliver left open. The tiny room smells like bleach and damp towels. I sit on the closed toilet lid and answer with shaking fingers.
“Bri?”
A sob cracks through the line.
“Talia?”
My eyes burn instantly. “Oh God. Bri. Where are you?”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is broken. Breathless. Terrified. “I’m so sorry. The texts weren’t me. He had my phone. Landon had it. He made me send them, T. He said if I didn’t, he’d hurt you.”
Everything in me goes cold.
Then hot.
Then cold again.
“I knew it,” I whisper. “I knew something was wrong.”
“He told me you came to the villa. With a biker.” Her voice shakes so badly I have to press the phone harder to my ear. “He was so angry. He said you ruined everything. I thought he was going to kill me.”
The words come fast.
“No,” I say, gripping the phone. “No, Bri, listen to me. You’re okay. Where are you?”
“I ran.” She gasps like she’s moving, or crying too hard to breathe. “I got away this morning. I don’t know for how long. I don’t know where to go.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know. I’m scared.”
“Where are you?”
“I… I’m not sure.”
“Can you get to Lovefall Cove, near Swoon Peaks?”
A pause.
Too long.
“I think so.”
“The Bluebird Café,” I say. “The one by the old bookstore. Public place. Lots of windows. Meet me there.”
“Talia, no. What if someone followed me?”
“Then I’m not coming alone.”
“No.” Panic sharpens her voice. “No bikers. Please. Landon kept saying the Saints were worse than him. That they’d use me to get to Salazar, then throw me to the cops or worse. I don’t know what’s true anymore. I can’t think with one of them standing over me.”
My stomach twists.
I look toward the bathroom door, toward the sleeping man on the other side.
“He’s not like that,” I say.
“You don’t know what they’ll do to me.”
“I know what he did for me.”
“Talia…”
“I won’t bring the whole club,” I say carefully. “Just him. And I’ll keep him back until you’re ready. He won’t scare you. I promise.”
A small, broken sound slips through the line.
“You still came for me,” she whispers. “Even after he told you to stop.”
The words hit something old and bruised in me.
Still came.
Like she knew I would.
Like she never doubted it.
For half a second, the thought scratches at me.
Then she sobs again, and whatever worry I have about the call being bait gets crushed under the old, familiar weight of needing to fix her.
“Of course I did,” I whisper.
“I don’t deserve you.”
“Just get to the café,” I say. “Sit where people can see you. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
The line clicks dead.
I stare at the phone.
My hand is shaking so hard the screen blurs.
Then the bathroom door opens.
Jayce stands there.
Bare chest. Jeans low on his hips. Face hard as stone.
Awake.
Very awake.
And I understand, with one sick little drop in my stomach, that he has been awake for a while.
“How much did you hear?” I ask.
“Enough.”
I stand too fast and wince.
His eyes flick down, then back up, darkening for a reason that has nothing to do with anger.
“Don’t,” I say. “Do not start with me.”
His jaw flexes. “You answered the phone in the bathroom.”
“She called me.”
“You should have woken me.”
“I knew what you’d say.”
“Because it would’ve been smart.”
I move around him into the room, clutching the phone like he might take it. “She ran away from Landon.”
“Maybe he forced her to make that call.”
The word hits the same bruise as last night.
I whirl on him. “Don’t.”
“Talia.”
“She said he had her phone. She said the texts weren’t her. She said he threatened me.”
“And he might have.”
“She was crying.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s safe.”
“She’s my sister.”
His face tightens, but he does not push that point again.
Smart man.
“She’s meeting me at the Bluebird Café,” I say.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
I grab my clothes from the floor and yank them on with all the dignity of a woman losing an argument to denim. Then I grab my boots.
“You don’t get to tell me no about my sister.”
“I get to tell you no about walking into a setup.”
“Then come with me.”
He goes still.
I shove one boot on, wobbling because my body has the nerve to be sore while I’m trying to have a dramatic argument.
“She said no Saints,” I add.
His expression darkens. “Convenient.”
“She’s terrified.”
“She should be.”
“So help me without scaring her.”
Jayce stares at me like I’m a problem he can’t shoot, patch, or order into compliance.
Good.
Let him suffer.
Finally, he grabs his shirt and yanks it on. “You do exactly what I say.”
“Jayce.”
“Exactly, Talia.”
The use of my name stops me more than the order does.
His voice is rough.
My chest tightens.
“Okay, Shadow,” I say.
His expression changes at that.
Not much.
Enough.
Twenty minutes later, we pull up two blocks from the Bluebird Café.
Morning has settled over Lovefall Cove like nothing ugly ever happens here. The bakery down the street has a line out the door. A woman walks a fluffy white dog in a sweater. Someone has hung spring flowers in baskets from the lampposts.
It all looks too normal.
Like the world didn’t crack open last night.
Shadow parks behind a closed antique shop and kills the engine. He takes my helmet but doesn’t get off right away.
“You see her, you don’t run.”
“I’m not going to run.”
His eyes say he knows me better than that.
Annoying man.
“You stay where I can see you,” he says.
“You’re coming in?”
“I’m walking you inside. Then I’m calling Ghost and telling him where we are.”
“She said no bikers.”
“She can cope.”
“Jayce.”
His gaze cuts to mine. “You want me invisible? Fine. I’ll stay back once I know the room. But the Saints know where you are.”
I want to argue.
I do.
Then I remember Landon’s voice. My name in his mouth. Men hunting for the diner girl.
“Fine.”
“Not a word I trust from you.”
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
I hate that my lips almost twitch.
He notices.
The Bluebird Café smells like coffee, cinnamon, and toasted bread. It’s small, bright, and crowded enough that I breathe a little easier. Blue booths line the windows. A counter runs along one wall. A narrow hallway at the back leads to the restrooms and the rear exit.
Jayce notices that too.
And there she is.
Brianna sits in the last booth near the back, hair tucked under a beige knit hat, oversized sunglasses hiding half her face. She looks smaller than I remember. Pale. Her shoulders hunched in a hoodie too big for her.
My heart tears open.
“Bri.”
She looks up.
For one second, she doesn’t move.
Then her face crumples.
“Talia.”
I forget everything.
Jayce’s warning. Landon. The villa. The text.
I cross the café too fast and drop into the booth beside her, wrapping my arms around her. She clings to me, shaking.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers against my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve got you.” My voice breaks. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Her fingers clutch my jacket.
Over her shoulder, I see Jayce standing near the front window, eyes moving over every person in the café. He doesn’t look like a man in a coffee shop. He looks like a weapon someone leaned against the wall.
Brianna stiffens when she notices him.
“He’s with me,” I say quickly. “He helped me.”
Her hand tightens on my sleeve. “You brought one.”
“His name is Shadow.”
“I said no bikers.”
“And I ignored that because I’m not completely stupid.”
Jayce’s mouth almost moves.
Brianna lowers her sunglasses enough for me to see her eyes. Red-rimmed. Wet.
“He’ll call the others,” she whispers.
“He’s going to keep us safe.”
“I can’t do this if he’s staring at me like that.”
“He’s not staring.”
“He is.”
I glance back.
Jayce is absolutely staring.
At everyone, but still.
His gaze moves from Brianna to the hallway, the counter, the rear exit.
He doesn’t like it.
I can see how much he doesn’t like it.
Then his earpiece crackles.
His jaw tightens.
“Ghost,” he says under his breath.
Brianna flinches.
Jayce steps closer to the table, lowering his voice. “I’m stepping outside. Window only. Ten feet. You stay where I can see you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He looks at Brianna.
Then back at me.
“Right here.”
My cheeks warm. “Okay.”
He hesitates.
For a second, his gaze drops to my mouth.
Last night flashes between us.
Heat. Floor. His voice in my ear.
Then he turns and walks outside.
I watch through the window as he moves a few steps down the sidewalk, shoulders tense under his cut. He positions himself where he can still see the front half of the café.
A delivery van eases up to the curb, blocking part of the window.
Brianna’s fingers curl around mine.
“He likes you,” she says.
I look back at her. “This is not the time.”
Her mouth trembles.
Then, slowly, it curves.
Not much.
Barely anything.
But wrong.
Every hair on my arms rises.
“Bri?”
Her grip tightens.
Too tight.
“I told him you’d come,” she says.
My blood stops.
The hallway behind me shifts with movement.
I turn.
Landon steps out from the back hall with two men behind him.
Fake smile.
Expensive watch.
Eyes already on me.
I lurch to my feet, but Brianna still has my hand. Her nails dig into my skin.
“Don’t make a scene,” she whispers.
I stare at her.
The tears are gone.
The fear is gone.
My sweet, missing stepsister looks at me with dry eyes and a soft little smirk.
“You always were so easy,” she says.
A hand closes around my arm from behind.
Another clamps over my mouth.
I scream Shadow’s name anyway.
Muffled.
Useless.
Through the front window, I catch one flash of black leather as Jayce turns.
Too late.
Landon’s men drag me backward into the hall.
The last thing I see before the rear door swings shut is Brianna sliding out of the booth, calm as anything, while my whole world finally understands the truth.
My sister was never missing.