Chapter 26
Sadie
“You are shitting me. He did NOT ask you to sign a sex slave contract!” Dani cackles so loudly that I have to hold the phone away from my ear, wincing.
“It’s not a slave contract.”
“It sure as shit sounds like one to me,” she replies, crunching the popcorn she quite literally made to enjoy while she mocks my predicament. I’m still reeling after what happened earlier. I’d gone back to my room, and I’d tried to sleep but couldn’t, so ended up calling my friend.
“Wait… you said you had sex. But he told you the only way he’d… OMG, you didn’t sign it, did you?!”
“No, of course not.”
Dani sighs dramatically. “Good, I thought for a second there you’d lost your damn mind.”
“Would it be so bad if I did?”
Dani falls silent—a bad sign. After an agonizingly long pause, she slowly asks. “Are you seriously considering it?”
I hesitate, running my hand down my face and sighing. “I think so.” I groan, flopping back onto my pillows. “I don’t know. Is it crazy?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously, Dani, this is no laughing matter.” I can practically hear Dani struggling to keep a straight face.
“So, the sex was that good, huh?”
“Yes, actually. But that’s beside the point.” I take a deep breath. “The point is… I guess I like the idea of officially being Chief and the guy’s old lady, of being part of the Wild Riders.”
“Sadie—”
“I know, I know you’re going to say that it’s too soon, that I hardly know them, that I don’t need to enter into some weird contractual relationship with four bikers, that we could just casually date, but I don’t think we can.
The guys are different, hell, this whole relationship is different, unusual, what if the best solution to navigating it is to have a clear set of agreements from the start? ”
Dani chews slowly, crunching as she thinks. “That actually kinda makes sense.”
“Dani! You’re supposed to be talking me out of this madness!”
She chuckles. “You just told me off for not supporting you and thinking it’s crazy.
Look, I’m your best friend, I’ll support your decision, no matter what, and if you think this is the right call, despite how unusual or insane it may sound to some people, you should go with your gut.
Trust your instincts. What are they telling you? ”
I let out a long sigh. “They’re telling me to give this a try, all of it.”
The sound of rumbling motorcycles screeching into the lot makes me sit bolt upright. Moments later, I hear the doors opening and heavy footsteps coming upstairs.
“Dani, I gotta go. Talk soon.” I cut off the phone, barely registering her confused questions.
It’s late, far later than I should be up, but after the crazy hot sex with Chief that left me hungry for more and more than a little confused, there was no way I could sleep, especially since Trigger and Shadow still hadn’t returned.
They’re right by my door when I open it. Chief is there too, having heard them and come out of his room. His face falls when he sees me. The small knot of concern on his face tells me he wishes I hadn’t come up to hear whatever news the guys bring. Which, judging by their expressions, isn’t good.
“Kitchen,” Chief says softly, nodding his head toward it.
We all silently follow him into the other room, past the bedroom where Owen and Dash are still sleeping.
“What about Dash?” I ask, wondering if this has something to do with our arrangement. Has Chief told them what happened with us earlier?
“Let him sleep. We’ll catch him up with the news later,” he says.
The kitchen feels strangely claustrophobic despite being one of the largest rooms in the clubhouse.
The overhead lights cast a warm glow across worn wooden cabinets and polished countertops, while the smell of fresh coffee hangs heavily in the air.
Under normal circumstances, it would feel comforting.
Tonight, however, tension seems to cling to every surface.
It sits in the silence between conversations, in the rigid set of Trigger’s shoulders, and in the dangerous calm radiating from Shadow as he stands beside the kitchen island with his arms folded across his chest. I have never seen either of them look like this before.
Trigger has always been intense. Anger comes naturally to him, burning hot and fast whenever somebody he cares about is threatened.
Shadow is different. Shadow is controlled, quiet, thoughtful.
Seeing him angry is infinitely more frightening.
Neither of them has sat down since they arrived.
Neither of them seems capable of standing still.
“What do you mean somebody broke into my house?” I ask, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears. The words don’t feel real. Nothing about this feels real.
Trigger drags a hand through his hair before turning away and pacing across the room again. “The alarm went off around midnight.”
I immediately look at Chief. The movement is instinctive. Chief doesn’t flinch, his face stubbornly set.
“You knew.” The words come out quieter than I intended, my voice hoarse.
His jaw tightens. “Sadie—”
“You knew.” This time, my voice is sharper. Anger cuts through the shock, giving me something solid to hold onto.
The expression on Chief’s face tells me he already knows exactly why I’m upset. “When the alert came through, we didn’t know what was happening yet,” he says carefully. “The priority was getting somebody there.”
I hold his gaze. “You could have told me.”
“It could have been a false alarm.”
I let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Clearly, it wasn’t. You had no right to keep this from me.”
The silence that follows is uncomfortable. Not because anyone disagrees, because everyone knows I’m right.
Trigger stops pacing long enough to slam both hands onto the countertop. The fury in his voice makes me jump. “The fucker knew exactly what he was doing.”
My stomach twists. “What happened?”
For a second, nobody answers. The hesitation is somehow worse than anything they could say.
Finally, Shadow reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded photograph.
The image shakes slightly in my hand as I take it.
It’s of me leaving the grocery store. The date stamp in the corner is from three weeks ago.
Another photo follows. Then another. Me pushing Owen on the swings, me getting coffee, me walking into the clubhouse, me laughing with Dash, me carrying Owen to the car after he’d fallen asleep.
A cold feeling spreads through my chest. The photographs feel intimate in a way that makes my skin crawl. Not because of what I’m doing, but because somebody was watching. Somebody was close enough to capture moments I don’t even remember happening.
“He left dozens of them,” Shadow says quietly. “He wants you to know he’s watching, that you leaving the house doesn’t mean he isn’t there.”
I stare at the images scattered across the counter. The room suddenly feels too warm. Too small.
“He took things too.” Trigger spits the words out.
His expression darkens further. “Photos. panties. Anything personal that he could get his hands on. He knew where you kept things, too, and only went to the drawers where he might find things, the nightstand, your underwear drawer, the laundry hamper.”
My stomach turns thinking of the vibrator in my nightstand that I have no doubt is now missing. The violation flays me. This wasn’t a random burglary. It was deliberate, calculated, and personal.
Shadow places a folded piece of paper on the counter. I already know I don’t want to read it. I do anyway.
YOU BELONG TO ME. IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU, NO ONE CAN.
The words blur slightly as fear finally catches up with me. For weeks, this had felt distant somehow. Threatening, yes. Scary, definitely. But distant. Now somebody has been inside my home. Inside my son’s home. Inside the place where we should be safest. A place that will never feel safe again.
A heavy silence settles over the room. Nobody seems quite sure what to say.
Eventually, I look up. Trigger’s expression is murderous.
Shadow’s isn’t much better. Chief looks grim.
For the first time since this started, I realize they aren’t just angry.
They’re worried. And somehow that frightens me almost as much as the note itself.
Until now, most of my attention has been focused on my own fear, my own confusion, and the increasingly terrifying realization that somebody has become obsessed with me.
Looking at Trigger and Shadow standing across from me, I am suddenly forced to confront the fact that this situation is affecting them too.
Trigger is a man balancing on the edge of a cliff. Shadow looks like a man who has already decided to push somebody off one. The thought sends a fresh chill down my spine.
I force myself to focus. “Did you see him? The guy who broke in,” I clarify. “Did you actually see him?”
Trigger shakes his head, hands balling into fists. “No.”
Disappointment hits me like a physical blow. Some small part of me had hoped there would be a face. A name. Something tangible to attach all of this fear to.
“Nothing?” I ask. “Not even on the cameras?”
“He wore a mask. Hood up. Gloves. He knew exactly where the cameras were and kept his face hidden the entire time,” Shadow says, his voice low and controlled.
I swallow. “Did he leave anything behind? Anything that might tell us who he is?”
The look that passes between the men makes my stomach tighten. “No, he was careful,” Chief says quietly.
My shoulders slump. I shouldn’t be surprised. Whoever is doing this has been careful from the beginning. My gaze drops to the photographs scattered across the counter before returning to them.
“What about the house?” I ask. “Was there any sign of forced entry?”
That question produces another silence. A bad one. Every nerve in my body sharpens. “What?”
Trigger drags a hand through his hair. “There wasn’t any damage.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“It means he didn’t force his way in.”
For several seconds, I simply stare at him. The implications slowly begin to sink in. “No broken windows?”
“No.”