“We're gonna be okay.” I rub circles on her back. “I promise.”
She nods against my shoulder, and I feel some of the tension leave her body. After a moment, I pull back and brush a strand of hair out of her face.
“I need you to trust me,” I say. “We're gonna figure this out.”
“I trust you,” she replies.
“Good.” I kiss her forehead, then stand, pulling her up with me. “I'm gonna take off and check in with the club. See if anyone has any ideas. Will you be okay with your mom and dad?”
She nods, wiping at her eyes. “Yep. I’ll be fine.”
I kiss her one more time and then force myself to step back. “I love you,” I tell her.
“I love you too.”
I head downstairs, giving her mom a reassuring nod as I pass, and step outside into the rain.
My phone rings before I even reach my truck.
Vegas.
“Yeah?” I answer as I climb into the driver's seat.
“Get to the clubhouse,” he says. No preamble, no explanation.
I frown. “I can't. I gotta talk to my club. Shit's hitting the fan with the wedding, a?—”
“Your club's already here,” Vegas interrupts. “Both clubs are here. We’re waiting for you.”
I freeze with my hand on the keys in the ignition. “What?”
“You heard me. Get your ass over here, now.”
He hangs up before I can ask any more questions. I stare at my phone for a second, confused as hell.
What the hell is going on? Why didn’t Eagle or Chaos call me? Why arebothclubs waiting on me?
My thoughts race with every possible scenario, but I don’t have time to ponder. I start the engine and pull out onto the street. The rain's letting up now to a drizzle as I head toward Saints Outlaws.
Whatever's waiting there for me, I'm ready.
CHAPTER 15
HOPE
Itook a shower after Frost left, but still find myself staring at the clothes in my suitcase, willing something to jump out that says ‘I can get married in this’, when I hear the front door open.
“Hope!” Amy's voice carries up the stairs.
Footsteps pound up the staircase, and Amy bursts into my room, carrying a garment bag and a shoe box. She's breathless, her hair is slightly wild, but there's a fire in her eyes that makes me sit up straighter.
“What did you find?” I ask, my voice hoarse from crying.
Amy sets the bag and box on the bed, then turns to me, her expression serious. “Do you trust me?”
I raise my brows in confusion. “Huh?”
“Do. You. Trust. Me?” she repeats, slower this time.
