But it means the world.
Fuck it. I take Wren’s hand and squeeze it.
Grudge ends the call, then turns back to us. Before he can say anything, I ask, “Was there an FBI agent called Dorian Chase there last night?”
Grudge raises an eyebrow. “Why is that name so important?”
I stub the toe of my boot into the dirt. “I’m serious. I need to know if he was there.”
“Why did you run?”
The thick collar of my biker jacket is warm against my ears as I pull it up around them. “I made an exit plan. I figured if we had an unexpected FBI raid, we’d dip as soon as we got wind of it happening. Had supplies ready to go. Too many people there last night who could have confirmed Wren’s whereabouts.”
Fair.” Grudge takes a step closer. Wren’s hand tightens on mine. “But, you were never singularly responsible for Wren’s safety.”
“Technically, I am, because we agreed to it in the clubhouse the day Wren arrived. But I might as well get it all out, seeing you’re pissed at me anyway. I’m now one hundred percent responsible for them because they’re mine.” I lift our joined hands. “Whether I’m a brother or not after this, the end result is the same. I kept Wren away from the Feds who are after them and kept them safe. So, again, answer my question about Dorian Chase.”
“Fuck.” Grudge tips a cigarette out of the packet and lights it. “Why couldn’t you keep your hands off her like you were meant to?”
“Them,” I say. “I couldn’t keep my hands offthem. I mean, if you’re gonna get mad, get mad using the right pronouns. But Wren’s my person. Clause, or no clause.”
“All I want to do is keep my club safe,” Grudge looks at Wren. “I should have said no when King showed up with you. But we needed the cash, and saying no the national president is a career limiting move. You’re trouble.”
“Apparently,” Wren says.
“Yes. Chase was there. Avisiting agentfrom a different bureau,” Atom says. “Who happened to match the photograph on those passports we found in the storage facility. The one henever returned to because he must have gotten scared off when we chased him across the field that night.”
“The person in the storage facility was Chase?” Wren asks. “He was the one who tried to get to the ranch house? Not an assassin from the cartel?”
The color has drained from their face.
“That’s what it looks like,” Atom says.
Grudge nods. “FBI went through the place like fucking locusts. Scared the shit out of women and children. Ruined my fucking proposal to Lucy.”
Fuck, I forgot about that.
“Grudge,” Wren says. “For what it may be worth, I’m sorry your celebration was blown up.”
“Wait,” I ask. “How did you find us?”
“Put a sensor on the door,” Atom says. “Came up one day and found someone had been using the cabin. Had eaten all the canned goods and shit. Wondered if they were homeless or an asshole. Just put up a camera. Saw the alert on my phone this morning. Realized it was you.”
“A camera?” Wren asks.
“Don’t worry. It’s pointed straight at the door. No volume. So didn’t see or hear anything the two of you might have been getting up to in there. And given everything that happened at the club last night, I didn’t think to check the notifications until this morning.”
I shake my head. “So, if you knew it was the two of us, and then you see my truck standing there, why the fuck did you think to show up with your guns raised?”
Wraith steps forward. “My fault. A precaution, Was worried someone else might come find you. Didn’t know who else might be in there. If they had the same skills as Wren, they might have been able to hack the feed or some shit. Loop it. Told Grudge that we needed to be ready in case the two of you were being heldagainst your will, or if you weren’t of the right mind to give Wren back to us.”
“Stop,” Wren says, releasing my hand. “I’m not something you pass around. I’m not a job you get to tick off your to-do list. You talk about me like I’m not standing right here. Like I’m not of sound mind. I’m not Catfish’s, and I’m not yours. I am, however, River’s. And River is mine. So, start talking to us as two grown human beings who could walk back into that cabin, shut the fucking door, and never speak to any of you again, you assholes.”
“And I thoughtEmberwas opinionated,” Atom says.
“Because God forbid someone other than a man has opinions,” Wren says, but they’re smiling.
“Cool your heels, never said my old lady having opinions was a problem. Just that she had a lot of ‘em.”
