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“Yeah, she called me, left a message. Texted Gwen.”
Luke sagged. Visibly. Every ugly thought about her coming to more harm than she already did had rendered him immobile, the blame for anything happening to her settling firmly on his shoulders for letting her go.
“You better start fuckin’ talkin’, Crawford,” Cade demanded, still watching him closely. “You sure as shit know somethin’ about this, and I’ll beat it out of you if I have to.”
This was Luke’s time to stare him down. “I don’t doubt you will,” he said. “Though you might wanna wait until I hand this in before you do, so you’re not assaulting a cop.” Luke nodded to the letter on his desk.
Cade’s head snapped down. “What the fuck you talkin’ about?”
Luke stayed impassive. “You know what I’m talking about. So you can beat me, shoot me, whatever, but I’m not sayin’ shit about Rosie, because it’s not my shit to say. I know you’re tryin’ to protect her. Know you’ve been doing that your entire life, in your own way. That’s the only reason I’m talking to you calm-like. But you’ve gotta realize something that I’ve come to realize. Protecting Rosie is caging her. I’m sure that’s the last thing you’d want to do with that woman, but it’s the truth anyway. She can’t be protected, because the greatest danger that she’s ever gonna face is herself. I’d do anything to change that shit, but I know it won’t.” Luke eyed Cade, who was openly gaping at him. “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to look for her, and I’m sure that doesn’t mean you won’t either, ’specially with all this comin’ from me. But maybe it might make you think twice about chasin’ her if you find her. Yanking her back to a cage.”
Luke took out his gun and laid it on the table.
Cade watched, still gaping.
“I’ve got some chasin’ to do, and I don’t wanna have the law on my side when I do. Took a long time to realize that’s my cage. Gotta chase freedom now.”
And with that, he walked out the door. He half expected Cade to snatch him by the back of his collar and beat the shit out of him. He might’ve even deserved it.
But he didn’t.
So Luke walked, unobstructed, toward freedom. Finding it, though, possessing it, that would take him through Hell and back.
Not that Luke minded. Not when Rosie was the destination.
Chapter Twelve
Rosie
Present Day
Up until the past few years, I hadn’t been to many weddings. Scratch that, I’d been to one.
Ranger and Lizzie’s. And I was young then.
I barely remembered the actual nuptials. No, I spent most of my time perving on the various attractive men from various chapters who’d come in for the celebration of love.
Or more accurately, the party and the booze.
Though I wasn’t even legal, I did my level best to get myself wasted and laid.
I only got one of those.
Guess which.
You’d think getting laid in the middle of a biker party would’ve been as easy as getting wasted in the middle of the biker party.
That was not the case.
So instead of focusing on the magical taste to the air that only happened at weddings, I glared at my brother, sucked down beers and sulked.
I was a teenager, after all.
But all—kind of—grown up, I’d gotten to see that magic. Let it warm my heart that some of the best people in my life got to experience it.
Cade and Gwen.
Amy and Brock.
Macy and Hansen.
Mia and Bull.
Asher and Lily.
Bex and Lucky.
Killian and Lexie.
All of them, they got it. That wonderful magic.
And now I got to taste it, so strong it drowned out all the hospital smells, even chased away death for a short time.
“I do,” Lucy whispered from her spot propped up in bed, eyes twinkling. I’d never seen anyone look more beautiful. Audrey was right, happy girls were the prettiest.
“I fuckin’ do,” Keltan growled before the priest could even get the words out.
Then, after a pursing of his lips, either to restrain a grin or in disapproval, he pronounced them man and wife. I would’ve thought that with Keltan’s intensity, he would’ve snatched Lucy off the bed and kissed the shit out of her. I’d seen it before.
But he didn’t. He paused for what might’ve been either the longest moment in the world or the shortest one. Staring at Lucy like he was trying to imprint her every cell into his memory. Then he slowly, purposefully, leaned down, taking her face in his hands, and he kissed her.
It was sweet. Beautiful.
And so very private.
So I subtly stepped back, letting them have their moment.
They deserved it.
Heath was grinning as he did the same, though he wasn’t grinning at them. He was grinning at Polly.
She was scowling.
There was totally a story there.
Especially when she blew her distracted sister a kiss, winked at me, scowled at Heath once more and stomped out of the room. Heath stopped grinning and followed her, without acknowledging anyone.
