Poor Gabby. Sage knew how much she hated Andreas. The enormity of the situation hit her and she shook her head, the movement causing her to wince. They were risking too much. “He’ll kill you,” she whispered.
Rosa clicked her tongue in that motherly way that always made Sage smile. “You let us worry about Carlos. Come on now, let’s get you packed.”
Sage knew—she knew—that if she did as they asked, she would be sending them to their deaths. She knew it, and they knew it.
“Rosa—”
“Hush, mija, it’s time for you to go home.” Home. God, just the word made her want to weep.
“We’ve got this,” Luca softly added.
The knowledge that she would never be able to repay them made her heart ache. Silent tears fell as she moved to the dresser to grab the two photos that Carlos hadn’t seen: one of her with her best friend, Lucy, and the other of Petal and Gibbs; taken the week before he died.
She slid them inside the backpack before announcing, “I’m ready.”
Luca’s brow shot up. “Is that all you’re taking?”
Sage didn’t bother to respond. She wanted nothing from Carlos or this God-forsaken place. Not one damn thing. If she could, she would strip the clothes from her body and travel naked. That’s how much she hated him.
Rosa helped her dress while Luca kept watch. On the way out the door, she paused long enough to twist the gaudy rings from her finger and toss them onto the floor. Good riddance.
“Momma!” Petal called from the bottom of the stairs.
“Watch her arm,” Rosa cautioned as her sweet girl bounded up to meet her.
Petal’s arms circled Sage’s waist and they made their way down the stairs together. At the bottom, Petal pulled back to say something and gasped when she saw Sage’s face. “What happened?”
“Nothing, baby. I’m fine,” Sage lied.
Petal, with her light-brown hair and petite frame, was the spitting image of Sage. The only difference was that instead of Sage’s blue eyes, hers were brown like her father’s.
“Rosa says we’re going on a venture,” Petal excitedly announced.
“Adventure,” Rosa corrected, handing Sage a small bag. At her questioning look, Rosa whispered, “Sandwiches, snacks, a few waters, and some pain relievers.”
“Thanks, Rosa.”
“Alon has a delivery to make in Matamoros,” Luca cut in. Alon was Rosa’s husband. He was in charge of the grounds. He also made deliveries for Carlos. What he delivered, Sage could only guess. “You’ll cross the border there. A man named Martin will meet you on the other side. He’ll drive you to Corpus Christi. Steele and his men can retrieve you from there.” He paused for a moment as if to weigh his words, then added, “You’ll need the club’s protection.”
Sage got it. Carlos would lose it when he found her gone. He would come after her. She hated pulling the club into this mess, but what other choice did she have? She had to get Petal to safety. “Thank you both. I don’t know why you’re risking so much for us, but I want you to know that we appreciate it. I won’t ever forget what you’ve done.”
Rosa stepped forward and gave her a delicate hug. “Be safe, mija.” Luca’s eyes softened and he gave her a nod. She hugged him anyway.
Alon was waiting in the front drive. His truck reminded her of an old-fashioned milk truck from the ’60s. After thanking them both one more time, they crawled into the back. When they were settled among the boxes, Alon handed them a blanket and motioned for them to cover themselves.
They stopped twice for gas along the way but didn’t dare use the restroom for fear of being discovered. Instead, Alon parked in secluded areas where they could trek into the woods. Sage didn’t care. She was just happy to be out of that place. Poor Petal kept offering her food and pain pills. She refused both for fear that the food would make her sick and the pills would make her loopy.
The long journey left her with time to reflect. She drifted through thoughts of Alex—of his dark as night hair, his sky-blue eyes, his dimples when he smiled, and the love he held for her daughter. She thought of the love she not so secretly harbored for him—a love that caused her to make the biggest mistake of her life. Over the past five months, she’d had plenty of time to dwell on her life and the mistakes she’d made. There were so many, too many to count. Her thoughts shifted to the club, to Gibbs and all the time they’d shared with their makeshift family . . . how she’d taken it all for granted. If only she’d known.
Sage’s family moved to Austin when she was fifteen. By then, she was already a wild child. High school was one big party, so much so, that she barely graduated. Instead of going to college, she moved in with some friends and started working at a bar called Spur’s. Spur’s was owned by a local motorcycle club called Steele Raiders. That’s where she met Gibson Andrews. The club called him Gibby. Sage thought Gibby sounded like something someone would name their vibrator and called him Gibbs. Gibbs was a beer-drinking, loud-mouthed good old boy who was always in search of a party. He was a cowboy more than a biker, and just her kind of guy. After two years of dating, he finally put a ring on her finger, and she officially became his Ol’ lady.
But with the good times came the bad—the bad being that she wanted to settle and start a family and Gibbs did not. He was too busy with the club, too busy sowing his oats—too busy cheating on her. This caused many fights—ugly, hurtful fights. After three years, Sage was done. The hardest decision she’d ever made was to walk away.
Gibbs never knew. The club never knew. No one ever knew because the day she was going to tell her husband it was over, Sage discovered she was pregnant.
Chapter Two
SAGE DECIDED TO stay with Gibbs. When she told him about the pregnancy, he seemed excited—excited enough to brag about his swimmers and his manly cock to the club and all his friends—but excited enough to change his ways? No. Pending fatherhood didn’t slow his roll one bit. Did she resent it? Hell yes. Did she tell him? A million times. Did it change anything? Not one thing. Gibbs never admitted to cheating on her, but she knew. All those nights spent at the club, then showing up the next morning reeking of booze and perfume—damn right, she knew—and she wasn’t the only one. The whole club knew, but not one word was ever spoken to her about it.
Then her daughter was born and her entire life changed. The baby was so tiny, like a delicate flower petal. Gibbs wanted to name her Vanda after his mother. Sage refused. No daughter of hers would be cursed with the name Vanda for the rest of her life. This, of course, incited yet another fight—one which she was determined to win. After three days of pouting, he finally gave in, and their daughter was named Petal Louise Andrews—Louise being Gibbs’s mom’s middle name. Petal was the light of Sage’s life. Her daddy thought she was pretty special, too. For a while, things got better. The reprieve didn’t last, though—a month at most—before Gibbs was back to his old ways.
Right as Sage decided she’d had enough and was ready to call it quits, her entire world imploded. It happened the night Gibbs went on a run. Petal was sick and running a fever. Sage asked him not to go and they fought as usual. Gibbs said he had to go, that half the club was riding out, including the president and vice president, and that he would look like a loser if he didn’t.