The president’s expression hardened. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.” Sarah’s confidence was absolute. “I’m gathering proof through my contact. He’s been reliable before.”
“I’m sorry,” she added, looking at Jake. “If I’d known they’d target her?—”
“Not your fault.” Jake clenched his jaw. “You’ve been warning us they’d escalate.”
I watched them slip into that seamless rhythm they shared, quietly strategising with the president and the other man about how to protect his mum without bringing in authorities who’d ask questions the club couldn’t answer.
A nurse appeared, telling Jake his mum was asking for him.
As he let go of my hand to follow her, his gaze met mine. “Wait for me here,” he said quietly.
Left alone with Jake’s people, I sat and watched Sarah talk with another man who’d just arrived. He wasn’t wearing jeans and leather like the other guys, but rather black pants and a white business dress shirt. His build was all power, solid muscle stretching the limits of the clothes he wore, and his face was sharp lines and zero expression, like emotions were classified.
I couldn’t figure out how he fit into all this, but I caught pieces of his and Sarah’s conversation, picking up on the fact he was arranging additional security for Jake’s mother on top of whatever the club was organising. Oh, and his name was Axe, which felt less like a name and more like a warning label, honestly.
The thing I found the most interesting was that the club president and other man seemed to defer to Sarah at times like she had an expertise they didn’t. It only made me wonder more about how she fit into the club and what work she did for them.
The president’s phone buzzed just as they appeared to be wrapping up their discussion. The conversation that followed was terse, and when he ended the call, his expression was granite.
“Tonight,” he told the contained-violence guy, who nodded once before pulling out his own phone.
The implications hung in the air. Everything I’d seen and heard made me think that whatever was coming tonight wouldn’t be gentle.
Sarah approached, her professional mask still perfectly in place. “I know this is a lot,” she said quietly. “Seeing what this life really costs.”
I was surprised she’d even acknowledge me, let alone offer what seemed like understanding. But there was an edge to her tone that made my spine straighten. It felt like subtle superiority maybe, or certainty that I wouldn’t last.
I pushed my shoulders back. “I’m not in the habit of backing out of things just because they get hard.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “We’ll see.”
The subtext was clear, and I knew without actually knowing that she’d definitely done her homework on me. And that she saw me as the quiet coder who organised her life in spreadsheets and spent her nights debugging other people’s disasters. A nerdy girl who seemed so far from Jake’s world it was almost laughable.
But here’s the thing about us tech girls: we’re used to people underestimating us. They see the messy bun, laptop, and quiet ordered ways, and think that’s all there is. They don’t realise that the same stubbornness that keeps us hunting down bugs at 3 a.m. is exactly what makes us fight hard for the people we care about.
Jake returned and the president and other man moved to speak with him privately while Sarah resumed her calls. I watched Jake with his brothers, saw how they closed ranks around him, how their fury at his mum being targeted matched his own.
While they talked, I wandered off in the direction Jake had just come from. I wanted to see his mother. I figured I wouldn’t be allowed through since I wasn’t family, but I had this desperate energy inside, needing to know she was okay.
Luck was on my side because the door that granted access through to the emergency cubicles where they treated patients opened and I was able to slip through. I kept walking until I found the curtained cubicle Jake’s mum occupied.
“Eden?” His mum eyed me from the bed. She looked pale, the effects of chemo and the stress of the night written all over her, but there was nothing soft in her stare. She looked tired, not broken. “You didn’t need to come.”
“I wanted to.” I stepped closer, voice gentle. “Are you alright?”
She reached for my hand. “I’ve had worse. But they went through my things. Knocked over my photos of Jake and his sister when they were little. The bastards had no right.”
“I’ll help clean it up,” I promised, adjusting her blanket. “You just focus on healing.”
She studied me for a long moment. “There’s something special about you, Eden. The way Jake talks about you, how his whole energy changes when you’re near. I haven’t seen that before.”
My heart did a complicated flutter. “Really?”
“A mother knows these things.” She smiled. “And the way you rushed here tonight, how natural it was for you to come straight to us . . . that tells me everything I need to know about your heart.”
Warmth filled me. For all my anxiety about Sarah, about fitting into Jake’s world, his mum’s quiet approval felt reassuring.
