Destroy For Her - R.B. Hilliard Page 0,52
he loved Sage and as much as he wanted forever with her, the club came first. He would never give it up. She knew this. They’d spent endless nights talking about it. His stomach churned at the thought that she wanted him to. She knew the score. There were things he couldn’t tell her, things he would never be able to tell her. Should he have told her about Luca? Probably. Was Steele’s gag order an excuse not to? Definitely. Did he regret it? Not at all. It was his job to protect her.
That night, as he chilled in front of the TV with a beer and a bag of chips, he tried not to think of Sage. She was all he could think about.
The next morning, as he made a pot of coffee and drank most of it, he tried again not to think of Sage. Again, he was unsuccessful. He missed her. He missed Petal.
That afternoon, while working on a bike at the garage and trying not to think of Sage, he was interrupted by the sweet roar of pipes coming up the drive. As Steele rolled into the parking lot and pulled in front of the bay, he felt a sense of dread. Steele rarely came to the garage.
The roar fell to silence as Steele cut the engine. His gaze shifted to Ax as he dismounted from the bike, his silver-eyed glare making him tense. “Would it hurt you to answer your damn phone?”
Ever since the fight with Sage, he’d been intentionally avoiding his phone. “Shit. Sorry. I silenced it last night, so I could sleep. I must’ve forgotten to turn it back on.” It was a plausible excuse.
Steele eyeballed him for a moment before saying, “Carver called. The autopsy on Emma came back. The cause of death was a cervical fracture.”
Anger welled, and he closed his eyes to keep it from consuming him. The fucker hadn’t lied. He’d broken her neck. “Her funeral’s the day after tomorrow. I’m planning on going,” he told Steele. After all, it was his fault she was dead.
As if reading his thoughts, Steele said, “It wasn’t your fault.”
Ax shook his head. “Carlos had it out for me. All of those people—Emma, Aimee, Sage, Petal, the people who worked for him—were nothing more than collateral damage.”
Steele scowled at him. “Yeah, from a war you didn’t even know was being waged. You feel guilty. I get it. I would, too, but you need to set that guilt aside and move on. Carlos is going down. If we’re lucky, he takes the cartel down with him.”
Always the pragmatist. “Is that what you came to tell me? To move on and let justice win?”
A smirk appeared on Steele’s ugly mug. “That, and to get your head out of your ass and take your woman home because she’s driving me crazy with all of her moping.”
If only it were that easy. “I would love to help you out, but she kicked me to the curb.”
Steele’s brows shot to the ceiling. “Since when do you listen?”
“Since she called me a liar and told me to get the fuck out. As I recall, something similar happened to you. Did you go crawling back?” Steele’s jaw flexed. He’d hit a nerve. Good, maybe the dickhead would stop challenging him.
“Point taken, but let it be noted that I think you’re acting like a pussy.”
“Duly noted,” Ax ground out between clenched teeth. “Is that all?”
“No. LuLu and I are getting married next Friday at The Cave. I want you to stand up for me.”
Ax was surprised. From what Sage had told him, LuLu was planning an elaborate event at some fancy hotel in the Hill Country. “You talked her out of the Hill Country?”
“No. I simply asked where we would park our bikes and if the bar was big enough to hold the entire club?” Ax laughed at Steele’s smug smile. Sneaky fucker.
Two days passed with no word from Sage. Not even a text. The more time went by, the angrier he got, and the more he dug his heels in. She’d kicked him out. She could damn well ask him back.
On the morning of Emma’s funeral, he got a call from Steele. The club wanted to show their respects and would be riding with him. It was a show of support and solidarity, of brotherhood and love. It meant everything to him, so why did he feel so empty?
Later that afternoon, as he stood with his brothers at Emma’s graveside