Page 24 of Texting the Wrong Bikers

“Even if she does know, all four of us showing up would be overwhelming,” Shadow agrees.

“So just one of us goes.” I nod, confident that it will be me. I love my brothers, but I’m willing to fight them for this.

Dash stands and loudly claps his hands once. “Alright. We settle this fairly.” He looks at me pointedly, fully aware of what’s going through my mind right now.

“Fairly?” I repeat slowly.

“Yes.” He grabs a quarter from the counter, tosses it in the air, and catches it with a flourish. “Heads or tails.”

Chief looks deeply unimpressed. “We’re not deciding this like horny teenagers.”

“Too late,” Dash says. “This is the fairest way.”

Shadow snorts quietly. I’m already standing before I realize I moved. The idea of one of them going instead of me suddenly feels wrong enough to make my teeth hurt from clenching them too tightly. My hands ball into fists. She’s mine, the monster inside growls.

Chief notices. So does everybody else. Dash flips the coin once across his knuckles. “Winner rides out.”

Chief slowly rubs his jaw. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“No. Absolutely not. I should go,” I snarl.

Chief fixes me in his stern gaze. “You’re not exactly in the right frame of mind right now…”

“Fuck you,” I snap.

“It’s the coin toss or nothing, brother,” Dash taunts.

Sadie’s message burns bright against the screen in my hand.

Come over.

Attached is a location pin valid for one hour. She’s close. So close. She’s been under our noses this whole time.

Every part of me already knows I’m going. Whatever the coin toss says.

Chapter 6

Sadie

See you soon.

My heart stutters at the words on the screen. Is he seriously coming? A swarm of wasps buzzes in my chest. Holy shit! I look down at the threadbare leggings and hoodie I’m wearing. With a squeal, I jump up from the couch and race upstairs, showering in record time. I pull on some clean leggings and a slouchy top that’s flattering without looking like I’ve tried too hard. I comb the worst of the knots out of my thick hair, leaving it to fall loose around my shoulders. I’m applying a slick of lip gloss and mascara when the doorbell rings.

Crap. That was fast! I thought Tyler lived on the other side of town.

I thunder down the stairs, heart hammering in my chest. I pause for a second at the front door. I glance over at the empty wine glass on the coffee table, at the half-eaten bag of chips, and wish I’d had a bit more time to tidy up and light a candle or two. I tuck my hair behind my ear and take a breath before opening the door wide.

“Mommy!” Owen slams into me, wrapping his arms around my legs and clinging to me tightly.

It takes me a moment to process what’s happening. Automatically, I hug Owen back. “Hey sweetie, what are you doing here?” I murmur, my eyes fixing on Ethan’s pissed-off expression.

“I had a nightmare,” Owen mumbles into my thigh, wiping snot against it.

“Kid wouldn’t stop screaming. He wouldn’t eat his dinner, and then he wouldn’t go to sleep. He had the mother of all tantrums. He even kicked Brielle!” Ethan says indignantly.

I try to hide the vicious smirk that threatens to cross my lips at that very thought. I shouldn’t be pleased that Owen hates Brielle. It’s troubling, but I’m also annoyed that Ethan’s first response was to bring Owen home when things got tough rather than talk it out with him.

“He’s four, Ethan. Four-year-olds have tantrums. It’s your job as his father to handle those, not give up and drive miles in the middle of the night to dump him on my doorstep.”