Chapter 14
Chief
It’s been five days since the note showed up under Sadie’s front door.
Five days with no new threats, no sightings of anyone lurking around or following her, no obvious threats, somehow that makes me trust the situation less.
Experience tells me that whoever left the note is waiting for us to let our guards down.
The clubhouse hums with noise behind us. We’re sitting outside, enjoying the rare dry evening, though storm clouds loom ominously in the distance. Warm evening sunlight spills gold across the yard where kids run through the grass screaming like tiny feral animals.
The clubhouse dog, Moose, tears across the yard after a tennis ball, Owen chases him at full speed, and Dash—grown-ass man that he is—races alongside him. “I surrender!” Dash yells dramatically while Owen attacks his legs with a foam pool noodle.
“You’re under arrest!” Owen screams back.
“For what crime?”
“Being stinky!” Owen shrieks delightedly.
Dash pretends to sniff his armpit, pulling a face. “That’s fair.” Owen falls onto the grass, collapsing in a fit of giggles.
Sadie laughs softly beside me. The sound does something to me, makes me feel things it shouldn’t.
I glance toward her automatically. I can’t seem to stop looking at her whenever she’s around.
She’s sitting on one of the patio stools with a beer bottle loosely between both hands, long bare legs crossed beneath tiny denim shorts.
Sunlight catches warm copper tones in her hair as she watches Owen play, a soft, almost disbelieving expression on her face, like she still can’t quite believe he’s this happy here.
Neither can I. The kid’s made himself completely at home.
I don’t doubt it’s the only reason Sadie came back here and has come back every day.
Owen is obsessed with Moose. Half the old ladies around the clubhouse feed him snacks constantly.
All the other kids whose old men are club members have welcomed him.
And I have to admit, having him and Sadie around feels right.
Sadie catches me watching her. “What?”
“Nothing,” I lie, swigging my beer and avoiding meeting her eye.
I can hardly tell her that every time I look at her lately, something low and possessive tightens beneath my ribs.
It’s bad enough that the others have all fallen hook, line, and sinker for her.
I’m meant to be the sensible one, the one in control.
Yet I’ve already accepted she matters too much, and now I’m just dealing with the consequences.
Owen climbs onto Dash’s back, squealing hysterically while Moose barks around them.
Sadie laughs again, softer this time. Her eyes are soft. “He’s good with kids.”
“Dash?”
She nods.
I take a slow drink of whiskey. “He had a rough childhood.”
Her expression softens immediately. “Really?”
I nod once. “Guess he decided nobody else around him should have one.”
Dash dramatically collapses onto the grass while Owen declares victory loud enough to shake windows. Sadie smiles helplessly, watching them.
God. She’s beautiful when she forgets to guard herself. She’s so alive, so natural. She’s the kind of woman men write songs about—the kind of woman you’d kill to protect. Apparently, every man in this club is dumb enough to volunteer to do just that.
The clubhouse door opens behind us. Trigger strides outside, still looking irritated from this morning’s argument with a supplier. He’s dangerous looking enough that people instinctively shift out of his path when he’s in a good mood. When he’s pissed, he’s downright terrifying.
But then his eyes land on Sadie and immediately soften. It happens every damn time he looks at her.
He crosses straight toward us. “How long’s Owen been outside?”
Sadie squints up at him, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Twenty minutes maybe.”
Trigger nods once, still watching Owen carefully.
Too carefully. I notice Sadie noticing it too.
There’s a slight tension in her shoulders, a tiny hesitation before speaking.
She likes him, hell, she slept with him, but Trigger’s intensity gets heavy fast if you’re not used to it, and lately he’s been spiraling deeper every damn day.
“He might burn,” Trigger says.
Sadie rolls her eyes but smiles indulgently. “He’s fine, Kane. He’s wearing sunscreen.” He softens. Sadie always seems to know how to calm him down, even without trying. “Come, sit with us, relax,” she says, handing him a beer from the ice bucket on the table.
Like an obedient puppy, he sits down beside her. “Any updates?” he asks.
Sadie shakes her head. “I still haven’t received any more notes,” Sadie says carefully. “Maybe it really was just a one-off thing.”
“No,” Trigger and I say abruptly.
Sadie blinks.
Trigger folds his arms across his chest. “It’s too soon to know that.”
I nod once. “People don’t usually escalate once and then disappear.” Unless they’re testing boundaries first, I don’t say that part out loud.
Sadie sighs softly. “I just don’t want Owen to be scared.”
“He isn’t,” Trigger says immediately. Again, while he’s right, his defensiveness is too intense.
He watches Owen like he’s made of glass, and there’s a line of people around the corner waiting to try to break him.
He’s even more protective about Sadie, and that’s dangerous for everybody involved—especially Trigger.
I set my glass down calmly. “Trigger.” He glances toward me. “I need you to run over to Miller’s garage. The parts shipment finally showed.”
His eyes narrow slightly. He knows exactly what I’m doing.
He swigs his beer, looking at Sadie as she smiles at Owen. “It can wait.”
“No,” I say calmly. “It can’t.”
A beat passes and then Trigger exhales hard through his nose.
“Fine.” He gets up, finishes his beer, and pockets his keys.
Before leaving, his eyes flick toward Sadie again.
He doesn’t even notice he’s doing it half the time, checking, watching, panicking, as if she might turn to dust if he doesn’t watch closely enough.
The second the clubhouse door shuts behind him, Sadie visibly relaxes slightly. Not a lot, but enough. Guilt flickers briefly across her face immediately afterward. “Sorry,” she says quietly.
“You don’t gotta apologize.”
She bites her lip slightly before speaking again. “Kane’s just…”
“Intense?”
She laughs softly in relief. “Yeah.”
I lean forward, resting my arms on the table. “Trigger means well.”
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “I know.”
The problem is, she doesn’t know how bad it can get when Trigger falls too hard.
I do. I was there the last time. I watched him nearly destroy himself over a woman who kept one foot out the door the entire relationship.
I recognize the signs now, the possessiveness, the hyperfocus, the way Sadie’s moods control his. It’s dangerous, for him most of all.
I glance toward her carefully. “Just… be careful with him.”
Her brows pull together slightly. “What does that mean?”
I choose my words slowly. “He might look tough.” My eyes drift toward the clubhouse door through which Trigger disappeared earlier. “But underneath it, he’s a sensitive soul.”
Sadie looks surprised by that. Most people would be. Then again, most people don’t know Trigger beyond fists, tattoos, and anger.
I continue quietly. “Trigger grew up in a violent home. Never knew love or tenderness. He doesn’t always know how to be affectionate in a healthy way. He got hurt pretty bad a few years back by an ex.” I don’t elaborate, I don’t need to.
Sadie’s expression softens. “I don’t want to hurt anybody.”
The sincerity in her voice almost makes me feel guilty for warning her. Almost. Trigger’s one heartbreak away from losing his damn mind again. She looks thoughtful and for a moment I wonder if I’ve upset her. “You okay?”
Sadie exhales slowly before reaching into her bag. She pulls out an envelope. “Actually, I’ve got something on my mind… Ethan’s lawyer sent this today.”
Every protective instinct in my body sharpens as I hold out my hand.
“Lemme see.” I realize as soon as the words leave my mouth that a more appropriate response would have been, ‘What is it?’ However, Sadie hesitates only briefly before handing it over, which is interesting.
Most women would resist that level of control from a man they barely know.
Sadie just looks relieved somebody else is handling it.
I pull the papers out carefully. My eyes scanning over the legal bullshit, minor custody adjustments, and thinly veiled intimidation disguised as formal language. My jaw tightens immediately. “Seems like he’s trying to save face.”
Sadie watches me closely. “That’s what Dani said.”
“He’s testing what he can get away with, but he’s not pushing for custody either. Seems like he’s doing it to get back at you more than any actual desire for full custody.”
Her shoulders sag slightly. “I know. I’m so tired.”
Something ugly twists low in my chest at that. I hate her ex for his pettiness, for putting her through this shit. If he’s not the asshole who sent that note, and I still think he is, he’s still a dick for doing this to her.
I scan the papers again. “He’s trying to pressure you into changing visitation schedules.”
She sighs. “I know. Unsurprisingly, it just so happens to be the opposite of my work schedule.”
So he’s definitely fucking with her, trying to make it so she can’t work and care for Owen at the same time. “You planning on answering this?”
“I was gonna call him Monday.”
“No.” The word comes out sharper than intended.
At Sadie’s surprised expression, I force myself to ease back a half step.
This is exactly the shit I’m trying not to do with her, take over, deciding things for her, and yet every protective instinct in me keeps screaming to handle it.
To fix it. “To clarify,” I say more calmly, “You’re not calling him directly. ”
Her eyes widen slightly. “And why exactly not?”
“Because lawyers exist for a reason and calling him would be playing into exactly what he wants from you. This is all just to get a rise from you.”
A pause. Then unexpectedly, Sadie laughs softly.
“What?” I ask, frowning.
She shakes her head slightly. “Nothing.” Another small smile. “It’s just weird.”
“What is?”
“Having someone else care about this stuff.” Sadie stares out toward the yard where Owen now rides on Dash’s shoulders like a tiny screaming king. “With Ethan,” she says quietly, “Everything important always fell on me. He made the money, so he should be able to relax at home, he said.”
Anger flickers instantly beneath my ribs.
I can picture it too easily: Sadie managing everything while Ethan stayed emotionally checked out.
So many women end up being the ones to handle the daily, mundane yet necessary tasks, paying bills, signing school forms, booking appointments, and basically being an unpaid family secretary.
“You shouldn’t have had to do that alone,” I say quietly.
She looks at me then. Really looks at me, as if she can see into my soul. “Maybe not. But that’s just the way it was with Ethan.”
I look at her, and the words fall from my lips without thinking. “He was an idiot to let you go. If I had a woman like you, I sure as shit wouldn’t give it up for anything.”
Sadie blinks, caught off guard by my outburst. Suddenly, the space between us feels smaller somehow.
The warm evening air changes direction, carrying the smell of cut grass and Sadie’s perfume.
All of a sudden, I’m acutely aware of her, the bead of sweat on her chest, the way her hair blows in the breeze, caressing her face, the flush of her cheeks.
For one dangerous second, I want something I absolutely shouldn’t.
I want this. I want the noise, the family feeling, Sadie beside me, looking tired but safe.
Domesticity has never interested me before.
That was until Sadie walked into this clubhouse with her little boy and somehow made the place feel different.
More alive. I’ve been so busy worrying about Kane falling too fast and too hard for Sadie that I didn’t even think about myself.