Chapter 46 Exile
Ryder's POV
The motel was just on the edge of town and looked like it hadn't been updated for a good number of years.
The room has faded wallpapers, a bed that sagged a bit in the middle, and a bathroom with rust stains in the sink. But it was almost away from Millbrook and definitely away from the clubhouse. Rimight now, that was all that mattered.
Sage sat on the edge of the bed while I checked the locks on the door and windows. Old habits died hard even when you were far away from the danger you always knew.
"Let me see your ribs," she said quietly.
I pulled off my shirt and heard her sharp intake of breath. The bruises were already forming as dark purple colour was spreading across my left side where Jaxon had landed his best hits.
Her fingers were gentle as she examined the damage. "I think one might be cracked."
"I've had worse."
"That doesn't make it okay."
She went to the bathroom and came back with a wet washcloth and a bowl of water. We took turns cleaning each other's wounds. She cleaned my split lip and bruised ribs. And I cleaned her scraped knees from when she had fallen during the chaos in the hallway.
The silence between us was heavy but not uncomfortable. We were both processing what had just happened and what we had just lost.
"I meant what I said," Sage told me as she pressed the washcloth against my lip. "I choose you."
"I know."
"Do you regret it? Losing the club?"
I thought about that. The Steel Wolves had been my family for over twenty three years. They were my family since I was fifteen. Vincent had given me purpose when I had nothing, and a home when I was broken. Jaxon had been my best friend and my brother in everything but blood.
But looking at Sage, at the determination in her green eyes and the way she refused to let her hands shake even though I knew she was terrified, I couldn't regret any of it.
"No," I said. "I don't regret you."
She kissed me then, soft and careful of my injuries. When she pulled back, tears rolled down her cheeks.
"What are we going to do now?"
"I don't know. But we'll figure it out together."
We held each other through the night. But I couldn't sleep, I was too wired from the fight and the adrenaline and the feeling that everything was spiraling out of control. Sage dozed and slept on my chest, but it seemed like she was having bad dreams because her breathing was uneven.
The morning came with a knock on the door that made us both jump.
I grabbed my gun and moved to the peephole. I saw Tommy standing outside, looking exhausted and worried.
I opened the door and he stepped inside quickly, glancing around like he expected someone to follow him.
"How did you find us?" Sage asked.
"I tracked Ryder's phone. Don't worry, I came alone and I made sure nobody followed me." He pulled out a bag and put it on the small table. "I brought you some clothes and supplies. I also got food because that vending machine snacks isn't going to cut it."
"Thanks," I said. “Why did you come?”
“Jaxon asked you to leave the club, he didn't exile you from the town. I was surprised not to see you in your apartment last night.”
"How bad is it back there?" Sage asked.
Tommy ran his hand through his hair. "Bad. The club is in chaos. Half the guys think Jaxon overreacted, the other half think you both betrayed the trust Jaxon had for you and you deserve to be kicked out. There was almost another fight this morning between Diesel and Snake over whether Sage had the right to choose."
"And Jaxon?"
"He locked himself in the office all night. He won't talk to anyone, won't eat, just sits there staring at the desk." Tommy's expression was troubled. "I've never seen him like this. He looks broken."
Guilt twisted in my chest but I pushed it down. I had made my choice and I couldn't take it back now.
"There's something else." Tommy reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. "This came for you this morning. It was an anonymous delivery at the clubhouse. Someone left it on the front steps."
He handed me the envelope. My name was written on the front in blocky letters.
I opened it carefully and pulled out a single photograph.
The image was a zoomed in picture that looked like Jaxon and Vincent in the clubhouse parking lot. They were clearly arguing and both of them looked angry. Vincent's finger was pointing at Jaxon's chest and Jaxon's hands were clenched into fists.
But it was the timestamp in the corner that made my eyes freeze on the picture.
It was the night Vincent died. The time on the image was less than an hour before he was shot.
"Oh god," Sage whispered. She was looking over my shoulder at the photo.
I turned it over. On the back, written in those same blocky letters, was a message.
"Brothers kill brothers. Ask your president."
The three of us went very quiet.
"That doesn't mean anything," Sage said but her voice shook a bit. "Lots of people fight. It doesn't mean Jax killed our dad."
"The timing Sage," Tommy said quietly. "Vincent was killed around eleven thirty that night. This photo is timestamped at ten forty-five."
"Who took this?" I demanded. "And why send it now?"
"I don't know. But someone wants you to think Jaxon is guilty." Tommy looked at the photo again. "The question is whether they're telling the truth or trying to frame him."
I studied the image carefully. It was quite blurred because it was a zoomed in picture. But I could definitely tell it was Jaxon and Vincent. The body language also looked authentic and not staged.
But photographs could be doctored and timestamps could be faked. Someone could be trying to drive a wedge between Sage and her brother right when we were already at our most vulnerable.
"We need to talk to Jaxon," Sage said.
"After what happened last night? He won't see you."
"He'll see me..I'm his only sister, his blood."
"No way," I said immediately. "It's too dangerous."
"He's my brother. He won't hurt me."
"You don't know that. Not after kicking us out." I held up the photo. "If he killed Vincent—"
"He didn't." But Sage's voice lacked conviction. "He couldn't have. Jax loved our dad."
"People kill the people they love all the time. Especially when those people betray them."
The implication actually occured to me at that moment. My dad had been a federal informant. He betrayed several clubs to the government and made deals behind everyone's backs. What if Jaxon had found out that night? What if they had fought about it.
"I need to hear it from him," Sage said. "I need to look him in the eye and ask him directly."
I wanted to argue but I could see the determination on her face. She wasn't going to let this go.
"Fine. But I'm coming with you."
"He won't talk if you're there."
"Then I'll wait outside. But I'm not letting you face him alone with this hanging over his head."
Tommy cleared his throat. "There's one more thing you should know. Dr. Martinez disappeared last night. Nobody's seen him since he left the clubhouse."
"What do you mean disappeared?"
"I mean his house is empty, his car is gone, and he's not answering his phone. It's like he vanished."
Sage and I exchanged looks. Martinez had dropped a bomb about Vincent being a federal informant and then we simply sent him home. In the chaos of last night, nobody was there to watch and monitor his movements.
"Someone got to him," I said. "Either scared him into running or—"
"Or he's dead," Sage finished quietly.
The walls were closing in. I looked down at the image in my hands and wondered to myself, where did all these start from?