29. Sage

It's cool out tonight, and the breeze feels good on my face as my fingers grip the handlebars. I slow my bike as I pull up to the clubhouse and music vibrates the ground.

Kane is such a fucking asshole, calling Lyla here in the middle of the night instead of waiting until tomorrow. The last thing she needs is to be surrounded by drunk and rowdy bikers. She was nervous enough when we were here, and it was empty. But in this scene, she's going to be thrown headfirst into everything she tried to escape.

For the first time in years, I have another reason to be thankful I never patched in.

Ever since Lyla returned, it's been like scaling a wall, but if I was a member of the club, I don't think she could have looked past it. And I'm not sure I could handle that. Or how I'll handle it if she decides to leave again once she's safe.

Lyla's like the butterflies she's always obsessing over. Always fluttering and just out of reach.

I want to catch her. Hold her. Keep her.

Climbing off my bike, I make my way up the front steps of the clubhouse. Blaze is standing outside smoking a cigarette with his girlfriend, Candy, at his side. Her hair is bright green this week and tied up in a high ponytail.

Blaze holds his cigarette out for her, and she takes a drag.

"Sage." Blaze stops me with a hand on my shoulder as I'm about to walk past. "Was wondering when you were going to show up."

Unlike Kane, Blaze doesn't have skin in the game when it comes to Lyla. He knows how I looked at her back then, and from the way he's grinning at me now, I'm sure he still sees it. So when she showed up without me tonight, he no doubt knew I'd be close behind.

"Fight night delayed me." I pause at the top of the steps. "Have you seen Kane?"

"He was inside talking with Lyla a little bit ago."

Candy rolls her eyes. "Until he got distracted by Steel's guys."

"Steel?" My eyebrows pinch. "What's the Vegas chapter doing in town?"

Steel and his men only show up when shit hits the fan. One of the obligations of being the president of the founding Twisted Kings club. The fact that he's here now, the same way he was the first time Lyla was taken, has me on edge.

Blaze glances down at Candy, and she sighs at the silent message he's sending her.

"All right. I'll meet you back inside."

"Thanks, babe." He plants a kiss on her forehead before she pulls away.

Candy might be Blaze's old lady now, but there are certain things the Twisted Kings don't share with anyone who isn't a member—especially their women. They say it's for their protection, and while with Blaze, I believe he means it, for men like Kane, it's because they like having all the power.

It's one of the many reasons Lyla hated the men in the club. And why I understood how someone with her wild spirit could never be someone's old lady.

Blaze watches Candy walk away, taking a long drag of his cigarette. I'm not a member of the club, so he probably shouldn't tell me shit either. But even if I'm not patched, I grew up here, and I'm the one watching after Kane's daughter. I'm a Twisted King by blood. By the fate I denied. I'm one of them in all the ways that edge right up to it being official, and I'll continue to toe that line.

The door closes behind Candy, and Blaze turns to the railing, resting against it and taking a drag of his cigarette.

"I'm guessing it's not a coincidence the Vegas chapter is in town?"

Blaze shakes his head, smoke curling out from between his lips as he releases the breath. "When shit went down eight years ago, the Vegas chapter was around for it."

"I remember." The club parties were intense and never-ending. Endless options for drowning your problems. "Are you saying Kane thinks they might have something to do with all this shit that's happening?"

"He hasn't said that," Blaze corrects me.

Of course Kane hasn't said it. It doesn't matter if he's the president of the LA chapter, to accuse the original chapter of turning against their own—and worse, being responsible for what happened to Ellie and Lyla—would be a death sentence if he was wrong.

"So how'd he convince Steel to come to town if he doesn't know what's going on?"

Blaze chuckles, turning to face me. "Just because Kane hasn't said shit, doesn't mean Steel doesn't know exactly why he's here. He's not an idiot."

"He wants to help?"

Blaze nods, taking another drag of his cigarette. "If there's anyone who hates a traitor more than Kane, it's Steel."

"Do you think we can trust him?"

"His great-grandfather started the Twisted Kings. There are legacies and then there's the fucking MC bloodline. We can trust him."

I don't know Steel well, even if we're the same age. He was granted his throne at twenty-one when his dad was taken down on a gun run gone bad. And every time he came through town, he spent most of his time with Kane and Blaze.

But Blaze is right. Legacies like me are one thing—loyal even when we don't want to be. But being the blood of the club is another level, and I doubt Steel would betray the Twisted Kings.

Besides, debating whether or not Steel should be trusted isn't my biggest concern. It's that his club needs to be involved at all. That we've once more come to this point when everyone still around here remembers how it turned sour the first time.

"So, how's the living situation?" Blaze asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.

"Fine."

"Just fine?" He puts out his cigarette, grinning at me. "I'll pray for you, brother. Because I have a feeling you're going to need it."

Raking my hands through my hair, I tip my head back. I'd like to lie to Blaze and say I don't need his prayers, but we both know I do.

"Thanks," I grumble, turning toward the clubhouse. "I'm going to go find Kane and get Lyla the fuck out of here."

"Sure thing." Blaze laughs as I walk past him. "Good luck with that."

Kane's already suspicious, and now that I've fucked his daughter again, I don't know how much longer I can keep this shit to myself.

Stepping into the clubhouse, I'm met with absolute madness. The music is so loud it's mind-numbing, and the bass rocks the floors. People are wasted and stumbling around, and it's not even midnight yet.

Twisted Kings have always known how to party, but it's devolved over the years. The entire club has. It all started when the council members started fucking up, and the families started moving out of the neighborhood. The club became less about family and more about having a good time.

It's a blast if you want to forget reality, but it's slowly eating away at the club inside and out. The wear and tear show on the walls, on the men in the room. It's a trainwreck.

Glancing around, I find Kane exactly where I expect him to be, at the bar with a patch bunny on his lap. She's probably younger than Lyla and it makes me wonder how I ever used to look up to him. I remember watching my father run the club beside Kane and thinking they had it all.

Now it just seems pathetic.

Steel slides a shot in Kane's direction, and even if his lap is empty, he's surrounded by girls. At twenty-nine, he's young for an MC president, and I'm pretty sure any of the girls here would leave town and be his old lady in an instant if he showed them an ounce of attention.

"Sage." Steel tips his chin up at me when I stop beside them.

He's never been welcoming toward me, but it's more pronounced now. Unlike Kane, he doesn't consider me worthy of the club's favors when I never patched in, regardless of who my father was. He never agreed with the fact that Kane involves me in club shit. But unless it impacts the Twisted Kings name and reputation, he lets each president run their clubs as they see fit, so he doesn't do anything about it.

I nod at Steel then Kane, who's staring at the drink in his hand. He spins the whiskey around, sloshing it along the inside of the glass. And when he finally looks up at me, his gaze is ice-cold.

He smacks the ass of the girl in his lap, and she yelps, letting out a giggle and taking the hint to hop off and disappear.

"You're supposed to be keeping an eye on my daughter."

"I am."

"Then how does someone have pictures of her at the shop? Not just that, but at a club. Drinking. Partying. What the fuck, Sage?"

His eyes narrow, and even if his voice is low, his tone draws the attention of everyone nearby.

Kane lifts his drink and drains it, slamming it back down, before turning to face me. "If something happens to her—"

"It won't."

"But if it does—"

I step toward him. "I fucking said it won't."

His jaw clenches, but I don't back down. Because I'd let a hell of a lot of shit happen. But no one is getting to Lyla.

"I'm reconsidering her housing."

"You've got to be kidding me." I laugh. "That's why you dragged her out here in the middle of the fucking night. To have her crash at the clubhouse?"

He narrows his gaze but doesn't answer.

"Look around, Kane. It's a shitshow. Not to mention, it could be any one of them." My gaze moves around the room. "Be pissed all you want, but we both know she's still safer in the city with me than anywhere else."

"They're watching her."

"They were watching her in Denver too." I drop my voice low so no one can hear us. "But you trusted me to keep her safe because you know I will. No one is going to hurt her. I guarantee it."

I'm probably giving myself away, but I don't care. Lyla isn't going to stay at the clubhouse, and I'm not giving her back to him when I can't even trust him to keep an eye on her.

"Be careful, Sage." Kane grabs the drink the bartender slides his way. "I don't give third chances."

"I'm aware." I've helped him bury the bodies proving that statement true. "Where is she?"

Kane tips his head, and I glance down the bar to see her sitting at the other end, surrounded by people.

"Thanks."

Steel and Kane turn toward the bar, and I make my way in Lyla's direction.

She's laughing at something the bartender said, and it's so bright and beautiful it might be the resurrection of my soul. One laugh and I know this is going to end with me six feet under. I'm going to either take a bullet for this girl or because of her, and I don't give a fuck.

Stopping behind her, Brandi notices me first. Her red hair is down, and she flips it over her shoulder.

"Hi, Sage." Brandi winks at me.

Lyla spins around at Brandi saying my name. She leans her elbows back on the bar to face me, which pulls her blue top tight over her perfect tits. She's in jeans and a T-shirt with her hair tied up in a messy ponytail. There's barely any makeup on her face, and she's absolutely perfect.

"Yes, hi, Sage." Lyla bites the corner of her lip, mocking Brandi's tone even if Brandi doesn't seem to notice.

"You ready to go?"

"Aww, the party was just getting started." Lyla pouts. "You're no fun."

Brandi leans closer to her. "That's not what I've heard."

Lyla narrows her gaze at Brandi's unhelpful comment.

"Come on." I tip my head to the door, and Lyla lifts off her stool at the bar.

The moment she does, I grab her hand and hopefully Kane doesn't notice. But I can't fucking help it. I don't like how every biker we pass looks at her like they'd like to get a piece.

We step outside, and Blaze is still standing on the porch, smoking another cigarette. His gaze drops to Lyla's hand in mine as he chuckles.

Lyla doesn't miss it as she presses her body close and wraps her arm around mine while we walk toward my bike.

"Sure you want to leave so soon, Sage?" She rubs my arm up and down. "Brandi and her friend were just telling me their plans for you if you showed up tonight. Sounded very eventful."

"Keep it up, Lyla." I hand her a helmet and climb onto my bike, holding my hand out for her. "I'd love an excuse to shut you up."

She's quiet, but she doesn't drop her devious smile as she takes my hand and climbs on the back of my bike. Because my girl plays dirty, and she's probably hoping I'll make good on my threat.

My girl.

I'm really starting to like the sound of that.