Rose talked me right to sleep, never leaving my side. My eyes grew heavy, but I fought to stay awake with everything inside of me. But in the end, sleep was the victor with Rose’s voice my lullaby. Sleep came easy with Rose and her comforting words next to me.

Rolling over a few times and slapping her back, I knew she was out right next to me. True to her word, she’s by my side until this is all over. She never promised me a positive outcome, only the fact she’d be here for me. Each time I wake myself from sleep, I fall right back under.

It’s always Saxon’s gentle smile and aggressive touch that entertain my thought. Then a former dream in which we are all united and living. It’s the promise Saxon offered the day I met him. It wasn’t verbally expressed but lingered between us.

This time, I sit straight up in bed. The entire clubhouse rattles like an earthquake shakes Cali. My heart stops then fights to beat again. The ruckus outside the door too much to ignore.

“Rose,” I whisper into the darkness of the room.

No response. Her heavy breathing is the only sign she’s still here. I shake out the confusion knowing it’s a dream. But the damn noise is too much to ignore. I know the club is on lockdown and all the families and members are here. At least the ones not out on the mission. The sounds grow more intense with screaming and shouting. I’m waiting for gunshots.

What in the hell? This can’t be real. When did I train myself to listen for gunshots?

“Need a room. Every medical supply you have. Antibiotic IV fluids, gauze, a suture kit…”

“Zeke?” Is that him? It is. Oh, thank God, he made it. I had to notify him about this. I would have never forgiven myself if I didn’t. Saxon needs his brother more than anything now. I knew the moment I dialed his number three hours out from reaching this clubhouse I was overstepping a boundary, but unlike last time, I’m steadfast in my conviction. And if there happens to be a punishment, it will be mine to bear.

The ruckus blurs together. My mind narrows in knowing it’s not a dream. Something is going down outside that door. Even though Rose schooled me on the club ways, I’m still not okay busting out of this room. It’s not about courage or strength in this moment, rather facing reality.

“Rose.” I push on her back. She rolls around the bed wiping away the sleep from her eyes.

“Rose!” This time it comes out as a yell.

She bolts straight up from the bed. Leaps to her feet, pulling out a gun from the nightstand.

“Rose.” I fight to calm my voice. “There’s noise. Something is going on.”

She slowly wakes, taking in the whole scene. She hears what I do. Rose doesn’t respond with words but actions. She walks to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. I peer over her shoulder.

It’s in a blink of an eye I see a familiar boot race down the hallway. And it’s not walking either and not in the same shape as it was the last time I saw it. I shove Rose to the side and race behind the men. I’m hot on their tail when they lay a body on a bed. My knees threaten to give out on me, but not before I get to him. Saxon. My man. My love.

His towering body lies lifeless on a mattress. I race over to him and am hit with the smell of burnt flesh. His face is unrecognizable. It’s his bloody knuckles I recognize. My world stops spinning. This can’t be happening.

“Saxon.” I cup his face, place the tender flesh of my palm on top of his bruises and cuts. He doesn’t respond. Tears, panic, terror...nothing comes close to what I’m feeling. Men circle around me trying to pull me from Saxon. I don’t budge. I’m aware where they need to be. But I keep a hand on Saxon at all times.

“Eden, let me take care of him. Go sit down. I got him. I promise.” Zeke grips me by the shoulders, places me on the couch, and I watch him with unknowing fear as he slips through a door and disappears.

I have no idea how long I sit there staring at that door, wondering if he’s okay or if they found Wilder. My ears straining for voices. The quiet rings in my ears.

A door creaks. A sound submerges, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard in my life.

“Mitts.” My body slinks to the carpeted floor. Tiny feet concealed in blue tennis shoes run my way. I can’t speak. Can’t think. Can’t thank Katch enough for bringing this boy back to me.

“Wilder.” I cry, as he jumps into my arms. His tiny hands cupping my face.

“Thank you,” I mouth to the man standing in front of me.

He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t have to either. I can see every emotion he more than likely shows to anyone written all over his face. Apology, forgiveness, and most of all, thankfulness.

“Can we go get Mommy now?” I have no idea where I get the strength to do what I’m about too. It has to be from my sister who is on her way to resting peacefully now.

“I have a story to tell you about your mommy. Will you sit on my lap and listen?”

It’s the hardest story I will ever have to tell my nephew. The hardest thing I’ve done in my life. By the time I’m finished, he’s fallen asleep in my arms with his favorite blanket and truck tucked to his side.

“You did well, Eden. The boy is going to be just fine. Katch needs to talk to you for a minute; he’s in the kitchen. I’ll hold him right here. Now, go on. Let me hold this precious little boy.” Rose takes him from my arms. I don’t want to give him up. But I do. I stand, make my way into the kitchen, where Katch is just hanging up his phone.

“I’ll deny this if you tell anyone. I treated you poorly. I apologize.”

“Excuse me,” I stutter out.

“Eden,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “Sorry.”

I’m honestly confused, but then again, my head isn’t in the right place right now.

He continues. “I need to get home to my wife, so I’m going to say this once. I don’t give a shit about the law. They can fuck off for all I care. However, Caitlin does. Don’t know why, the woman does some shady-ass shit herself. That’s beside the point. My point is, we all know you’re going to have to tell the cops, Child Protective Services, and anyone else to ask how you found him. You tell them you got a call from the fire department here. They had the boy. You study this name, this face, and all the information I have in here before you go home. They’ll believe it. Trust me. Trust your man in there and trust in the club.”

Then he strides out of the room without a second glance back. The picture in my hand trembles, and I do exactly what he told me to. It’s just before I fall asleep that night that I realize what he’s apologizing for.