Garrett didn’t take the time to tell Paige what was going on. He got dressed and while she was still showering, he arranged for one of the prospects to pick her up and take her home, to her apartment. He told her that he’d check in with her later. She seemed confused, but also relieved to be going home. He prayed she had the killing herself thing out of her system, but all he could think of as he drove down the hill toward Vegas was Saint. He almost drove straight to the police station, but thankfully he still had enough wits about him to talk himself out of that. Instead, he drove to the club. Monkey had sent him a text message letting him know Darwin was there and he wanted to talk to Garrett.

Charles Allen Dutch, Esq., AKA Darwin, was the attorney for the Flames. He was a middle-aged man who loved motorcycles, pretty young women, and money. As a person there wasn’t a lot to like about him, but as an attorney, he was one of the best. He’d been defending the club and its members for over a decade and if he didn’t get them off altogether for whatever they were charged with, he at least managed to get the authorities to lessen the charges. Half the club should have been walking around as ex-felons or serving time in one of Nevada’s finest prisons...but thanks to Darwin they weren’t. Garrett hoped that he could work some of that legal magic, or mumbo jumbo, or whatever it was, in Saint’s favor. Saint hadn’t even gotten so much as a parking ticket since Garrett knew him. He wasn’t innocent by a long shot...but he was careful. Either someone set him up and he was too tired to take proper precautions when he left the cabin...or he’d set himself up. Garrett knew that was the more likely scenario, but he was having a hard time wrapping his head around the why of it.

He made it to the clubhouse in less than thirty minutes and parked his bike where he’d found it the night before...and practically ran inside. A few guys in the great room tried to talk to him but he ignored everyone and went straight to the office. The door was locked, but it was pulled open as soon as he knocked. Monkey and Speedy were there, and so was Trigger and the other sergeant at arms, a guy named Gregor. The road captain, Mitch, was there too, with his glasses perched on the end of his nose as he pored over a file in his hands. Darwin sat in the midst of them all, dressed in a suit that cost more than Garrett’s bike, groomed and manicured like he’d just walked out of a salon, as usual, and with his fancy leather briefcase opened on the table in front of him. They all looked up when Garrett came in and Monkey said, “Have a seat, Bear...” Garrett ignored Monkey and instead looked at Darwin and said:

“Have you seen Saint? Have you talked to him?”

“Bear, sit the fuck down!” Monkey snapped. Garrett took his seat and after clearing his throat Darwin said:

“I talked to him, after he gave the police a full confession.”

“What the fuck? What did he confess to, exactly?”

“The murder of Benjamin Ewell.”

“Bullshit! Saint didn’t murder that piece of shit, I—”

“Bear!” Monkey slammed a hand down on the table in front of him. “Don’t say anything else,” Monkey told him, teeth gritted and voice low and menacing. “Let Darwin talk.”

Garrett felt like all the confusion, anger, and anxiety in his body had twisted up and accumulated in a giant ball in the center of his chest. His heart was working overtime to beat around it and his lungs could barely expand. But he knew Monkey’s tone and he knew if he didn’t follow orders it would take a lot longer to find out what was going on and figure out what kind of action to take. He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths and he waited.

“Okay,” Darwin began. “When I got there, Saint was writing out a statement. I advised him to stop, but he just thanked me and continued the process of knotting the noose tighter around his neck.”

“What did he say in this statement?” Garrett asked. Monkey gave him a dirty look and Darwin looked over at Mitch and said:

“There’s a copy of it in that file. Mitch, do you mind?” Mitch sighed and shook his head before handing the paper across to Darwin. The attorney glanced at it and then handed it to Garrett. The letter was handwritten and started out: My name is Joshua Lee Barrett. I’m twenty-eight years old. I live at... It went on to list his address and phone number, and then in vivid detail, Saint described Garrett’s first stalking and then killing Benjamin Ewell. Only in the document, Saint took full responsibility and didn’t mention the club or any of the brothers. After he finished writing out the how, he wrote two sentences to sum up the why: This man was a monster who hurts women and he deserved to die. I’m not sorry I killed him and I doubt that God will have any qualms about it either.

Garrett felt the blood draining out of his own face. What the hell was Saint trying to do? Why was he doing this? Garrett had covered his tracks. He wasn’t going to get caught. Why did Saint feel the need to step in and take responsibility for something he didn’t do? Something that could send him to prison for life? “He’s lying,” Garrett said aloud to the room. “He didn’t kill Ewell.”

Darwin looked at Monkey, not Garrett. He knew how this worked. “If I’m going to help this stupid kid, I need to know exactly what did happen.”

Monkey popped an antacid out of the roll in his hand, into his mouth. With it stuck in his cheek he looked at Garrett and nodded. “Tell him.”

“I met this girl,” Garrett started. He skipped the part about pulling her off the barrier wall at the dam; his own plans didn’t need to come into this. He went on to tell Darwin about her sister and what Ewell did to her and then about Amanda’s suicide and the charges being dropped against Ewell. “I took every precaution,” Garrett said as he told him about following the rapist and finding out where he lived and what his routines were. “But the night I went to finish it, someone showed up at his door.”

“An escort,” Darwin said. Garrett would have said prostitute, or call girl, but what the fuck ever. He nodded.

“Yeah, I guess. All I knew was that it was a woman and I thought about walking away and coming back later, but I had no idea what he might do to her.”

“In his own place?” Darwin said.

“He was a rapist...”

“Allegedly.”

“Fuck you and your legal bullshit!” Garrett jumped to his feet. Monkey banged on the desk again.

“Bear, if I have to tell you one more time, you won’t be welcome for the rest of this meeting.”

“I won’t be welcome? Are you kidding? This is about me. Saint is in jail because he thinks he’s covering for me. Someone needs to talk to him...” Garrett looked at Darwin and said, “Someone that cares about him and not this legal shit, and find out what the fuck he thinks he’s doing.”

“He’s being arraigned this afternoon. The DA is asking for remand with no bail,” Darwin said. “If he gets held over without bail then the first opportunity any of you will have to talk to him will be on visiting day...Sunday.”

“That’s four fucking days from now! No, I have to talk to him today. I’ll go to court.”

“You can’t keep your mouth shut in here,” Monkey said. “You’d get yourself locked up too and I’d be down two men. You stay away from that courthouse.”

“And do what, Monk? I’m not sitting back and letting Saint go to prison for something I did.”

“Saint should have been smart enough to stay out of it,” Speedy said, speaking for the first time.

“Fuck that,” Garrett said, garnering another warning look from Monkey. “Saint is one of the smartest people I know. He had a reason for doing this...we just need to find out what the fuck it was.” He turned back to Darwin. “This kid has no priors, not even a fucking parking ticket. Are you telling me there’s absolutely no way a Slick Willie like you can’t get the judge to grant bail?”

Darwin narrowed his eyes at the “Slick Willie” comment, but then he let it roll off. You couldn’t be thin-skinned and the primary attorney for a group of hardened bikers. “I’m going to do my best, but I always prepare for the worst, just in case.” Darwin stood up and picked up his briefcase. “I’m due back in court in an hour. Garrett...you said Saint brought you a car and took your bike up to the cabin; how did he end up with his back?”

“After I finished the job I drove the car here to the clubhouse. Saint’s bike was here. I rode that up to the cabin where he and my bike both were...Paige!”

“Excuse me?”

“Paige was there the whole time. She can testify that there’s no way Saint killed that guy!”

“What was he doing at the cabin with her?”

“Watching over her. Ewell looked her in the eyes and smiled the day he walked out of court. She was afraid he would come after her and hurt her like he did her sister.”

“Did she know what you were doing?”

“No,” Garrett lied.

Darwin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think it’ll look suspicious to the DA if the sister of this guy’s victim is the alibi for the man accused of killing him?” It would, and Garrett knew that. But surely the DA would recognize that Paige had been through enough already and not drag her into this, wouldn’t he? Could Garrett take that chance?

“We have to do something. We have to help him.”

“Let me see if I can get him out of there on bail. If I can’t, I’ll see if I can get you in there to talk some sense into him. He needs to recant that confession, and plead not guilty, or I won’t be able to help him.” Darwin left and Garrett dropped back down into the chair. Fuck, this was a mess.

“You’d be taking a chance, bringing that girl into this,” Monkey said. “As it is now, she has no connection.”

Garrett nodded. He didn’t want to risk Paige’s freedom, or even her peace of mind. But this was Saint, for fuck’s sake. This was his brother, the man he’d lay his life down for. How could he protect Paige, if she was the only one that could save him? He really wished that he could rewind time and get to that dam a few minutes before she did. He’d be gone and instead of sitting in jail, Saint would be reading his letter...“Ah, fuck!” He stood up again. “I have to talk to Saint.”

Monkey looked at him like he had two heads. “Darwin just said...”

“I know what he said. I also know why Saint is doing this. I need to talk to him, and if he won’t agree to recant then I’m telling the cops the truth. Once they look into my past, they’ll believe me over him. He’s not going down for this, not as long as I’m drawing breath.”

* * *

Garrett had experienced a lot of long-ass days in his life, but this one was the longest. He sat around the clubhouse, mostly because Monkey warned him not to leave, and waited for Darwin’s call. Saint’s bail hearing was set for three p.m.; it was almost four before Monkey finally stuck his head out of the office and waved Garrett inside.

“What happened?” he said, before he was even in the door. Monkey closed it and said:

“They denied bail.”

“Fuck! I need to talk to him, Monk. I’m either getting him to recant that fucking confession or I’m confessing myself...today.”

“Settle down. Have a seat.”

“I don’t want to have a seat.”

“I wasn’t giving you a choice,” Monk said. Garrett was on the verge of defiance. What the fuck did any of it matter now? He was either going to prison or hell...soon. But for Monk’s sake, he sat. “Now,” Monk said, like a teacher talking to his unruly student. “Listen to me. Saint’s got it in his head that he’s protecting you somehow. I know you want to do the same for him. But Bear, you said it yourself earlier...once they look into your background they won’t have any doubts it was you that killed that POS.”

“Good, then they’ll have to let Saint out of there...”

“I’m not done,” Monk said, with a hard look. “You think once they know who they’ve got, they’ll let it go at prosecuting you for killing a rapist? Hell, boy, they’ll be pulling out cold cases all over the state and then some, trying to tie them to you. How many of them you think they’ll catch?” Garrett didn’t answer that; he knew it was a rhetorical question. He didn’t know himself any longer exactly how many of “them” he was responsible for. He’d stopped counting even before he left the army. “Darwin is a miracle worker. He’s gonna get that boy to recant his confession and in the trial he’ll play up that rape shit real good. He’ll have the jury in tears...for Saint...”

“With no guarantees. Monk, he’s looking at spending the rest of his life in prison if he’s convicted. This will ruin the rest of his life. We can’t let him do this.”

“We can, and we will. Bear, you’ve got a heart as big as your fucking chest and I respect that. But you came into this club knowing it’s club first, brothers second, family third...everything else last. If they get their hands on you...it will destroy my club and all of your brothers in the fallout. Saint made his bed, maybe because he was afraid that this time you’d get caught for some reason...”

Garrett put his head down and ran his hands through his hair. “No, Monk,” he said. “Saint made this choice because of something stupid I did. This is all on me...it’s all on me.”

“Well, then,” Monkey said with a sigh, “you’ll find a way to live with it, like you do everything else. Darwin said you won’t be able to see Saint until visiting day, Sunday. So, go home and take some time to get your head together about this.”

“Go home? What the fuck am I supposed to do at home for the next four days?”

“I don’t care,” Monkey said. He was in full-on club president mode. “Sleep, eat, drink, smoke some weed, watch some porn, fuck that girl...Just keep your big ass far from that police station.” Garrett stood up. He felt like he was going to explode. There were too many unchecked emotions running rampant inside of him. He didn’t know what to do with them...he didn’t even know how to fucking identify most of them. “Go home, Bear,” Monkey repeated. Garrett had to will himself to walk toward the door. He almost felt like he was in shock. His plan to kill himself had been all about preventing the monster inside of him from ruining the lives of the people he cared about, but here he was, still breathing and still ruining lives.