Page 103 of Texting the Wrong Bikers

There have been many in the past two years. The day Sadie decided to become our old lady. The day she and I got married, six months after I proposed. Sadie was breathtaking in cream lace and leather. Chief, Dash, and Shadow were my groomsmen, and Owen was a pageboy, of course. While Sadie is our old lady, we wanted to provide her and Owen with stability, and as only one of us could be her legal husband, my brothers knew I needed it more than they did. I never thought I would ever feel at peace, but being married to Sadie has finally made me feel complete.

There’s going to be another wedding soon. Much to all of our surprise, Dani is finally settling down. She’s pregnant and getting married to one of our club brothers, Gage. He’s a great guy, solid and steady. Exactly the kind of man Dani needs. It was pretty obvious from the moment they met that they were meant to be. Sadie is the maid of honor, and she’s giddy with excitement for the big day.

There’s been a lot of things happening over the last couple of years. Owen started elementary school, grinning proudly and waving goodbye as he climbed aboard the school bus—Sadie put her foot down against his request for a motorcycle escort. Moose waits outside every day for the big yellow bus to return, bringing his best friend home safely.

Ethan and Brielle have a kid now. I’ll be the first to admit that I had Ethan wrong. He’s not a bad guy; he just made some mistakes, but he’s trying his best to put things right, and I respect that—we all do. While not a member of the MC, he actually helps us out with things on occasion. It’s useful having an IT specialist to call on. He knows about Sadie and our arrangement, I’m still not sure he entirely approves, but he can see that we care for her, and that’s enough.

Tyler was sentenced to life without parole. If I’m being honest with myself, a small part of me wishes I hadn’t stopped that night, that I’d put an end to it all there and then. Sadie wouldn’t have had to go through the trial, wouldn’t have had to endure people questioning her character, questioning her relationships, and she wouldn’t have had to face Tyler. But then, if I had killed him, there’s every chance I’d be the one behind bars right now, and my life with Sadie and Owen is worth ten of his.

Sadie squeezes my hand. “You okay, babe? You looked like you were somewhere else just now.”

I turn to look at her concerned face. “I’m okay, just thinking how things might have ended differently, how I could be the one locked up here,” I say, glancing up at the drab concrete building.

Sadie nods, understanding. “You don’t have to come in with me.”

“Over my dead body am I letting you go inside alone. It’s only because they only allow two visitors at a time that the whole Wild Riders club isn’t here right now,” I grunt.

She chuckles softly, even though she knows I’m serious. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself, and we head inside the prison.

Some fifteen minutes later, having gone through all of the security clearances, a uniformed guard leads us into the visitation room. Sadie falters slightly as we walk toward him, but then she straightens her spine, strides over to the table, and sits down, picking up the phone. Behind the glass, Tyler’s face lights up. “Sadie,” he mouths. I step into view, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. Tyler’s gaze registers my presence, flicking down to the ring on my finger and the matching one on Sadie’s. His face twists. “What’s he doing here? I thought it was just you.”

Sadie takes a breath and then speaks clearly and firmly. “I came here to show you. So you can see my choice and know that I will never, ever be yours. I came here to tell you to stop trying to contact me. I will not reply to your letters. I will not answer any of your calls. To me, you are dead. You died in that fire, Tyler. You aren’t insane, you aren’t misunderstood, and you certainly aren’t a good guy. Good men don’t stalk, or threaten, or kidnap, or kill.”

“Like he’s so good,” Tyler spits, staring at me with unfiltered hatred in his eyes. “He would have killed me if his friends hadn’t stopped him. Did you know that?”

“Yes. I wish he had,” Sadie says. Tyler winces at her harsh words. She continues, “But he’s a good person, that’s why he stopped, why he let his friends stop him. You’re a monster. You will never be a good man, nor will you ever be a free man.”

“If you hate me, why did you come?” Tyler asks.

“I wanted to see you in here with my own eyes. I wanted to know that you’ll never hurt me or anyone ever again. Goodbye, Tyler. I hope you rot in hell.”

Sadie puts the phone back in the cradle, ignoring Tyler’s protests as he bangs against the glass, howling like a wounded animal. She refuses to look at him again.

Sadie pushes back her coat. “Ready?” she asks me, turning to the side to leave, revealing the small yet unmistakable baby bump.

Tyler reacts as if he’s possessed, screaming and slamming his head against the glass. Two guards rush over to subdue him; I don’t need to hear him to know he’s screaming obscenities. Sadie doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t so much as glance his way as I take her arm and we walk away.

Outside, Sadie takes huge, gulping breaths, bending over double.

I grip my arm under her, taking her weight, my hand instinctively reaching for her stomach. “Are you okay?”

She nods. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” She straightens to look at me reassuringly. “Just that was intense.”

“You were incredible,” I tell her, kissing her temple and pulling her into my arms.

She allows me to hold her for a second. “Do you think it will work?” she mumbles into my chest.

“I think so.”

In truth, I don’t know. Tyler’s delusions are so grand that our visit might even have spurred him to try harder. But it doesn’t matter. The police will file all his correspondence, and at our request, they won’t send the letters. As for his collect calls, we’ll continue to refuse them. What matters is that Sadie needed that closure, needed to tell him how she felt to his face without the audience, to show him he had lost.

“Come on,” I say, taking her hand in mine, loving feeling the cool gold band on her finger. “Let’s go home.”

I drive slowly, keeping to the speed limit in our new family sedan. I never would have thought I’d be riding anything other than my bike, but there’s no way I’m taking my pregnant wife and son on the back of a motorcycle. How things have changed.

Sadie leans back in her seat and closes her eyes, placing her hands on her stomach.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, glancing between her and the road.