I quietly follow him.
When we get to my room, he opens the door and ushers me inside. He tosses my bag onto the bed, and I ease down into a small desk chair.
Standing over me, he studies me for a moment. I don’t know what he’s looking for when he stares at me this way but eventually, he speaks.
“You disappeared,” he says at last. “You didn’t do us the courtesy of letting us know you were leaving. Didn’t take your things or even say goodbye to the children. Do you have any idea how inappropriate that is?”
I nervously wring my hands together. “You’ve all been good to me. I didn’t know how to explain it without making things worse.”
His head tilts slightly. “Explain it now.”
I take a breath, choosing my words carefully, trying to stay as close to the truth as possible. “Your words encouraged me. You always said that I should spread my wings and fly. I wanted to find my biological brother.”
That earns a flicker of interest behind his eyes. “And did the Lord grant you what you were seeking?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, he didn’t know I existed. I was feeling desperate and I didn’t think I had anywhere else to go.”
Jeremiah exhales slowly, staring at me. He comes across like a man who’s disappointed with my choices, a fatherly figure if I’m being honest. “And where did desperation lead you?”
I glance away. “Into a place I shouldn’t have been,” I admit. “Rick rides motorcycles. He’s involved with a motorcycle club.”
His mouth tightens almost imperceptibly. “The road is a temptation, motorcycles are dangerous.”
“They are,” I agree quickly. “My brother ended up in a wreck that put him into a coma.”
Jeremiah leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Reckless speed invites consequences,” he says. “Was that the case?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “His brakes failed. He nearly died.”
His gaze sharpens. “And still you remained?”
“I didn’t have a choice. He was in a coma, and I didn’t want to run out on him.” I swallow thickly, alarmed at how easily I’m shaking. “The doctors said when he woke up, he might have a traumatic brain injury. They warned me he could be violent, unpredictable, and not himself.”
Jeremiah’s lips press together. I can see the calculation in his eyes, even if his face remains calm.
“And this… club,” he continues. “What manner of people surround him?”
My chest tightens, but I keep my tone measured. “Outlaws. One-percenters. The kind of men who think rules don’t apply to them. They call themselves the Savage Legion.” I pause, letting a little disdain color my voice. “They kept club whores at their clubhouse. They expected me to play along just because I was Rick’s sister.”
He inhales slowly, as if savoring the information.
“I told them no,” I add quickly. “I told Rick no. But he kept pushing. He also wanted me to work for him delivering drugs, be part of his world, pretend that kind of life was normal.”
Jeremiah nods, as if this confirms something he’s believed all along. “Men without moral grounding will always test boundaries. He tried to take advantage of you.”
“I felt trapped,” I say softly. “I was scared he wouldn’t let me leave once he woke up.”
His eyes linger on me now, with cold satisfaction.
“So naturally, you ran back to the only home you’ve ever known, Is that correct?”
“Yes. This is the only place I ever felt needed and like my life had purpose.”
Jeremiah leans back against the door frame, folding his arms over his chest. “You stepped out of order and into chaos,” he says calmly. “And you found it wanting.”
“That’s true.” My voice trembles just enough to be believable. “I thought I could make it on my own. I thought I was stronger than I was.”
He watches me closely. “And now? Do you still believe that?”
