31. Teysha

31

TEYSHA

I'm seated on the closed lid of the toilet with my face in my hands. I've come off another spell of nausea that had me throwing up acid because there was nothing else in my stomach. How could there be when I can't keep anything down?

Any time I've tried to eat, my belly roils. The smells alone make me nauseous. The texture of certain foods has the same effect.

A shaky breath puffs out of me as I sit up and wipe my eyes with the back of my hands.

Where do I even go from here? What do I even do now?

None of this was planned.

Yet here I am again, forced into a situation that feels like cruel irony.

Knuckles rap against the closed door. Sydney's voice follows. "Tey, you good? You've been in there a while."

"Oh… err… yes… I'm… just a second!" I scramble to my feet, flushing the toilet and rushing to the sink. I quickly pump soap into my hands and rinse them off. My gaze scans the leng th of the bathroom counter making sure I haven't left any evidence behind.

Everything's been disposed of, wrapped in tissues and tossed in the trash.

Sydney arches a brow at me when I snatch the door open and we come face to face. "You sure? You seem flustered."

"I was just… thinking."

"Thinking?"

"I do my best thinking on the toilet. TMI. But you're asking, so…"

I brush past her with warm cheeks and a warning quake in my belly. She pads after me, following down the hall of the house she shares with Mason.

There's no escaping her on her turf.

I wander into the den and park myself on the loveseat, hoping for a change of subject. Sydney being Sydney, refuses to drop the matter. I've ignited her sense of curiosity and once that's piqued, there's no slowing her down.

She collapses on the cushiony armchair, drawing her legs up to fold them like a pretzel. "I know what's bothering you."

"You do!?"

"Tey, give me some credit. I've known you for how long? I know all your tells."

"Like what?"

"The stammering. The rushing off. Avoiding eye contact."

"Well… you… I'm not… ugh!" I grumble in sudden frustration, words failing me.

Sydney laughs. "It's okay. I don't blame you."

"You… don't?"

"After everything that's been going on? Why would I?" she asks, picking at a loose string she finds at the hem of her cutoff denim shorts. "You should know you can always come to me about these things."

A sigh eases out of my lungs. "Of course. Thanks for even having me."

"You're basically family."

"It's been difficult, and I'm trying to be strong. It's not just about me."

"I get it," she says. "I'm feeling the same way."

My brows knit closer. "You… are?"

"Why wouldn't I be? Everything's a mess. I spoke to Kori earlier. She's barely left Cash's side. He's doing better. The doctors say he should be released soon. But that doesn't change what's happened—the storm on the horizon. I'm sure it's a lot for you considering your situation."

I'm still lost as to whether she understands me as well as she believes she does. It could go either way. Sydney and I have known each other since we were kids. She was several years older than me, but her family attended the same church as mine. I was more involved, attending Bible Study, behaving myself every step of the way.

As we grew older, Sydney was living life. She was skipping classes and sneaking out for parties. We never hung out together 'til we started working at the Sunny Side Up years later.

After Sydney had gone off to university, then returned to help her sick father out.

In a lot of ways, she's always been the braver, more outspoken person I wondered if I could ever be. The version of myself that had real confidence.

But listening to her now, I'm not sure if we're on the same wavelength at all.

"My situation? "

"Yeah, with Logan. He and the guys are gearing up to take out the Saints."

"You think I'm worried about the MC going up against them?"

Sydney frowns, blinking slowly. "Aren't you?"

"Yes," I sputter. "Very worried. I just… I wasn't sure if you were talking about what I thought you were."

"I keep telling Mace maybe it's time we do involve the FBI. You know they're investigating too."

"Right, to prevent any more death. And danger."

Sydney gives a fervent nod. "You get it. Why should our guys put themselves in harm's way when the feds are already on it? But let Mace tell it, it's their score to settle. Fucking male egos."

I can only give off a nervous laugh. Mostly because it's confirmation we're of separate minds. In this moment, while I am worried about the same thing as Sydney, I'm preoccupied by other things too. I'm a wreck piecing together how to move forward. How I can even broach the subject and what to do about it.

My heart aches at the thought it could mean the end of us. It could be a deal breaker for Logan…

"Have you heard from him?" Sydney asks. "Mace mentioned he had some stuff to get done. He didn't tell me what. I'm not even sure if he knew."

I shake my head in answer, too torn up on the inside to say much else.

Sydney suggests we head to the saloon for lunch and to check if Mick needs any help. In need of a distraction, I'm eager to go along with her. Since the shooting, security around the club has been turned up to the maximum degree.

Which is why it comes as no surprise that we enter to a more crowded bar than usual. Unless there's a club meeting, most afternoons see few visitors. I'm at Sydney's side as we approach Mason and Silver in the middle of a conversation.

"He's supposed to be back now."

"You said he texted you?" Silver asks, his arms bulging out of the short sleeves of his t-shirt. "What did he have to say?"

"Boulder," Mason answers. "He said he's been in Boulder."

"That explains a lot. Including how he and his group have been keeping such a close eye."

"Who's in Boulder and who texted you?" Sydney asks nosily.

Mason gives his fiancée a look that would probably scare most people. But there's a flicker of knowing in his gaze too, as though he's fully aware there's no running Sydney off. She'd only stand her ground, and that's what he loves about her.

"Ghost," he says. "He texted me."

Nerves tickle my already sensitive insides. I inch half a step forward. "Logan texted you? He wouldn't tell me what he was up to today. Is he coming back?"

"This is why we don't tell you," Mason says. "It always leads to trouble. Old ladies aren't supposed to be involved in club business."

"Mace, this is hardly confidential," Silver points out. "Let Teysha know about what Logan said. It'll probably calm her fears."

Mason's jaw clenches, regarding me for a second. "Logan went to the Zapote bar to confront the Barreras. He got some info out of them. The Chosen Saints' whereabouts. Last he texted me, he said he was on his way back here. He said he'd brief us on specifics once he does."

I swallow down the gasp that almost slips out. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm shocked, stricken by a shiver that runs down my back. Taking in what I've heard, my thoughts race trying to piece everything together.

"Logan's on his way back. The Barreras told him where Abraham is," I repeat slowly. "Boulder."

The memory forms before my eyes. Fuzzy at first 'til it clears up and I feel like I've wandered into the past.

"You are my most special believer, sweetheart," he tells me. "Better than all the rest. The most beautiful and loyal. So obedient."

My skin crawls listening to him, though I keep my true feelings from showing on my face.

I busy myself instead with staring around the dining room, taking in the antiquated striped wallpaper and the portraits nailed to the wall. Many are generic art pieces of landscapes painted in watercolors. But there's one framed photograph in particular that stands out to me.

"Boulder," I blurt out. "The church in Boulder."

The Leader's lip quirks slightly. He sips from his goblet, then gives a nod. "That is right. It is a very special place. Tell me, Believer Teysha. How do you recognize it?"

I'm about to answer earnestly when I clamp my mouth shut. The less he and the rest of the Chosen Saints know about me, the better. They don't need to know that my family once attended that church before it closed down several years ago. They don't need any information that could lead them back to Mama, Papa and Grandma Renae…

I glance one last time at the photograph taken of the church, showcasing its gorgeous spire roof and large cross on the front. Then I put on a fake smile that feigns innocence.

"I've seen it in pictures before," I say. "It's a beautiful church. "

When the present moment returns, the conversation has moved on. Sydney is asking Mason and Silver about what they plan on doing from here. Neither provides many specifics, citing what we already know. Old ladies aren't supposed to be involved in the inner workings of the club.

But I'm hardly listening. The trip down memory lane has set my teeth on edge. I'm breathing fast, a wave of dizziness passing over me.

Sydney notices first. "Tey, don't tell me you're feeling sick again."

I shake my head. "I just… I realized something. Something about Abraham."

Silver's brow furrows. "What is it?"

"I know where he is," I whisper. "Abraham. He told me about it. A long time ago when he…"

I can't bring myself to finish the sentence. As it turns out, Sydney's right. The sick sensation returns with a deep churn that makes me grateful I have nothing else to throw up. I breathe in to fight off the feeling and focus on the matter at hand.

"The old, abandoned church in Boulder," I say, meeting their gazes. "He had a photo of it. That must be where he's been all this time."