Forgiven
Fallen Idols MC 9
Ryder and Sawyer Book 3
Savannah Rylan
Forgiven
Published By Savannah Rylan Books
Copyright © 2015 Savannah Rylan
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places or events are entirely the work of the author. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in piracy of copyrighted materials.
Cover art by Cover Up Designs
ONE
RYDER
Axel and I pulled up on Cruz, who might as well have gotten a can of spray paint and written “guilty” across his fucking chest. Stupid son of a bitch. We had found him in enemy territory, and all he could say for himself was “I can explain,” yet he hadn’t said a single word since.
“I’m waiting,” Axel barked. “You better fuckin’ explain because right now you’re looking pretty goddamned guilty standin’ in Las Almas territory when you’re supposed to be at the Raven’s Nest.”
Cruz’s eyes darted to me like I was going to get him out of this fucking mess. I shook my head. He was shit out of luck because the kid was still keeping secrets, and I had no idea what the hell was really going on. Axel was hell bent on getting the truth out of him.
Ever since Paige was attacked, he was on a warpath, and the fact that Cruz was there that night, with little explanation, was already a warning flag in Axel’s mind. If Cruz was going to walk out of here alive, he needed to open his mouth and start talking. Now.
Axel’s eyes turned dark, and, by the way his fists clenched and his jaw ticked, I knew he was two seconds away from either pummeling Cruz’s ass or pulling out his gun.
I wanted to say fuck it, and beat the shit out of him because, despite what I wanted to believe, I knew he was working with Las Almas. I had put my neck out there for him one too many times, and I was done. The kid needed to learn a fucking lesson the hard way. Besides, I had better things to do. There was a bottle of Jack with my name on it at the Raven’s Nest.
As I turned back to my bike, I caught a glimpse of Cruz. The desperate look in his eyes, and the panic in his stance had me grumbling as I stepped between him and Axel.
I made a promise and I kept my word. It wasn’t his fault his sister was a heartless bitch. Besides, Cruz had always been like a little brother to me, and I still felt an obligation to him, even if he was a complete and total fuck up.
“Axel, calm the fuck down, and at least hear what he has to say before you beat the shit out of him. Cruz, talk now. And it better be fucking good, or I won’t stop him next time.”
Cruz nodded, but he still didn’t speak. Axel cracked his neck from side to side, getting ready to act, and I didn’t blame him. I was losing my fucking patience, too. Cruz’s lips parted, but no words came out. He ran both hands through his hair and cursed under his breath.
The theatrics were getting on my last fucking nerve, so I took a step back to make my point. Cruz threw his hands up in defense. “Wait! I just…I don’t know where to start. It’s a fucking shitfest.”
“You need to figure it out,” I warned, wondering how deep of a hole he had dug himself into.
“The beginning is usually a good spot,” Axel advised through clenched teeth. “Or the middle or the end. I don’t fuckin’ care where you start, but you better start somewhere.”
“Right. Okay.”
“No, fuck that. I don’t care about the beginning,” Axel growled. “Tell me why you were at Paige’s house that night? And I want the fuckin’ truth this time.”
Cruz pushed his fingers to the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath. He glanced back up, his eyes looking right past me to Axel. Regret and remorse clouded his features. “I fucked up. I—” Cruz’s words were cut off by the roar of a bike’s engine. It came on us loud and fast.
Through the darkness, my eye caught the glint of a gun, but before I could react, before I could do anything, the shot rang out, slicing through the silence of the night, as Cruz crumbled to the ground.
Life went into slow motion. It was as if I forgot how to move. Axel pulled his gun, and lit up the night with every round he had. I dropped to my knees, my heart battering my chest as I cradled Cruz’s head in my lap. Blood soaked through his shirt, and I pressed my hand to the wound, hoping and praying he was still alive. “Cruz. Talk to me.” I was met with complete and utter silence. I looked up just as the taillights of the bike disappeared into the blackness. “Call Bones. Now!” I screamed at Axel.
Axel ran over, took one look at Cruz, and spun around. “Fuck!” Axel yelled, his voice echoing around us. “Fuck Bones,” he mumbled as he pulled out his phone and dialed. “We need an ambulance,” I heard him say, but the rest was lost to the static in my mind.
My eyes lowered, focusing on my hands that were covered in blood. I continued to put pressure on the wound as I tried not to panic. I hugged Cruz’s head to my chest. “You better not die on me, you bastard.”
TWO
SAWYER
“What do you mean you were pregnant? What the fuck are you talking about?” Ryder yelled, anger filling his eyes, and causing his fists to clench at his sides.
I just needed to explain. He would understand. He’d have to. “I couldn’t bring my child into this life. Not when I’d just lost my father to a jail cell. I wouldn’t do that to a baby. You were a prospect, and I knew you would never leave…so I did.”
The veins in Ryder’s arm pulsated. His jaw ticked. “What happened to the baby?”
I took a deep breath, and admitted to him what I’d been hiding from everyone for so long. “I had him.”
“Him! You mean to tell me I have a fucking son?”
There were so many things I wanted to say, but my words froze in my throat, and I couldn’t get a single syllable out, so I nodded.
He ran his hands through his hair, holding on to the edges. “Where is he? Where the fuck is he, Sawyer?”
“In New York,” I whispered. I stepped toward Ryder. A daunting fire raged behind his eyes, but I hoped my words would extinguish it. “With a nice family who can give him what we couldn’t.”
Ryder shook with anger, and I backed up as he came closer. A storm brewed in his grey eyes, consuming all the light, and turning him into a complete stranger. My back hit the wall, and he got within inches from my face. His breaths were loud and ragged. He flung his hand up, and pointed to the door. “Get out of my sight,” he seethed. “You disgust me.”
I grabbed his arm, but he ripped it out of my grip. “You have to understand,” I pleaded.
“Get. Out,” he demanded through clenched teeth. His words were like venom, surging out and paralyzing me.
“Ryder…” I managed, but choked on the last syllable.
He picked up my clothes, and threw them at me. I fumbled with them, and, then, caught his gaze, hoping he would see the struggle in my eyes, the pain and heartache I endured in order to do what was right for our child. Instead, I saw darkness. Pure, black, unadulterated darkness. Chills ran through me as I realized he was looking at me just like he looked at Las Almas—with complete and total hatred.
I refused to believe that was it. The secret I held onto for five years, the one that ripped me to shreds every time I thought about Liam, and the life I denied Ryder and myself, but at least found solace, knowing Liam was safe, was finally out. And Ryder had nothing to say other than to tell me to leave. But, then I gazed up at him, so defiant in his fury, and I knew he’d never forgive me. Still, I couldn’t just walk away. “That’s it? You have nothing else to say?”
He smirked before his lip curled in disgust. “At least I wore a condom this time.”
Anger swelled inside of me, rushing through my mind and body until it exploded. My hand reached out, and slapped him hard across the face. “Fuck you.”
“Too late for that, sweetheart. Now, get out of my fucking house.”
***
It had been two weeks since I finally told Ryder the truth, and he kicked me out of his house. Two weeks since the life I craved for so long and that was finally was mine again, had been ripped out from under me.
He hated me.
He had hated me before, but this was different. This time, it ran deep, cutting at a place that no matter what I said or did, I’d never be able to fix it.
I fucked up.
I sat on my bed in my New York City apartment, and reached into my purse, taking out the picture that was never too far from me. It was two years old, and Liam was only three then, but even then, his resemblance to Ryder was uncanny, from his grey eyes to his gorgeous dark hair and that adorable smirk that was full of mischief.
The picture forced me to remember that I’d made the right choice. He was happy and safe. Completely free of a life full of violence and heartbreak. He had a fighting chance to be anything he wanted to be without being held back by a devotion to a club he just happened to be born into.
Like always, I kissed the picture, and put it back in my bag for safe-keeping. I glanced around my studio apartment, a far cry from the spacious home where I’d grown up, and where I fled from once again, and tried to hold back the tears.
I prided myself on being strong, but, lately, I was a goddamned faucet, leaking at anything that managed to get a hold of my heartstrings. Which is exactly why I left Brooks Landing. Mom was getting stronger every day and I just couldn’t handle being so close to Ryder and not being able to see him. I knew if I did, any look or words he had would send me spiraling into a puddle of pathetic sadness and guilt.
I made a life for myself in New York, and it was time I returned to it, letting the past stay where it belonged. So, I grabbed my purse and keys and headed back to the job that paid for this shoebox I now and forever would call home.
I wasn’t even a foot out the door when my cell rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but I recognized the area code. Who would be calling me from Brooks Landing? And, did I really care to find out?
It was hard to escape a past when it kept creeping back into my life. I took a deep breath and answered. “Hello?”
“Sawyer, it’s Trista.” My heart stopped, and then sped up, because I knew she wasn’t calling me to shoot the breeze.
“What’s wrong?” I leaned against the hallway wall.
“You need to get on a plane and get home now. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”
“Please tell me Ryder is okay,” I choked out, as panic consumed me, and tears forced their way to my eyes.
She didn’t answer for a long moment, her breath heavy in the phone. Finally, she spoke. “It’s not Ryder. It’s Cruz.”
My legs gave out, and I collapsed on the floor.
THREE
SAWYER
I flew into the San Francisco airport with my heart in my throat during the entire five-hour flight. My baby brother had been shot. He was lying in some hospital bed, in God knows what condition. Trista refused to give me any more details. She insisted she didn’t know anything else. Claiming all she knew was that he was with Ryder when it happened. I didn’t know if that made me feel better or worse, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was seeing my brother.
I tried calling Mom, but she didn’t answer. She was probably already at the hospital. Alone. Because I ran, again, leaving her and Cruz behind. She’d just had major surgery only a little over a month ago, and this was the last thing she needed to deal with on top of everything else.
My mind raced a million miles a minute. What if I got to the hospital, and it was too late? What if Cruz didn’t make it? Nausea built up inside of me as the plane landed. Instead of pushing toward the exit, I detoured right into the plane’s tiny bathroom, and threw up all of my breakfast, not stopping until I was dry heaving, tears streaming down my face.
Someone knocked on the door, and I wiped my mouth before pushing the door open. “Sorry,” I muttered to the stewardess.
She gave me a sympathetic smile, her blue eyes narrowing in concern. “You okay?”
“Just peachy,” I mumbled before I stood up. She handed me a napkin, and I gratefully accepted it. “Thank you.”
“Do you need me to call anyone?” she asked, but I shook my head. I just needed to get the fuck off this plane.
I lifted my carry on up onto my shoulder and exited the small space. Trista mentioned that someone would be here to pick me up. Like a fool, I expected Ryder to be there waiting to take me in his arms and tell me everything would be okay. But, when I walked out of the terminal, the only person I spotted was Trista. Her dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun, which reminded me of the sleepovers we had back in the day, but the shit poor attitude she acquired after I left, shown through her dark eyes and tense body language.
I cringed. She wasn’t exactly number one on my list of people I wanted to see, but I pushed the disdain aside. She was here, voluntarily, so the least I could do was be grateful for small favors.
Trista nodded in my direction and hurried toward me. “You have any other bags?”
“No, just this.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
I knew Trista long enough to know she wasn’t the warm and fuzzy type, and we weren’t exactly on good terms these days, but would a little sympathy have killed her?
“Any word on Cruz?” I asked.
She smoothed a hand over her bun, not answering my question. The fact that she wouldn’t look me in the eyes made the giant knot in my stomach tighten even more. She stopped walking and turned to me. “He’s in the ICU. It was a clean shot, and the bullet went right out the other side, but he lost a lot of blood. Needed a transfusion. Bones said, as long as he doesn’t get an infection, he should be okay, but nobody knows right now if he’ll get one or not. He hasn’t woken up yet. They have him whacked up on so many meds that he might not be coherent for a few days, so don’t expect much.”
Trista moved to walk away, but I grabbed her arm. She glanced down at my fingers holding her bicep, and it looked like it physically hurt her not to show her disgust at my hand on her. I peered into her dark eyes, searching for the girl who once spent Friday nights at my house, watching movies and talking about boys. “Have you seen him?”
Her gaze moved from my hand and focused on my face. She simply nodded.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?”
Her lip curled. “I’m not a fucking doctor, and I already told you what they said.”
She tried to rip her arm away from me, but I refused to let her go. I needed the Trista who once cared about me enough to be completely honest with me. “But I’m asking you. You’ve seen him. You know him. Do you think he’ll pull through? Be honest with me, and don’t you fucking dare give me any false hope.”
“He’s a tough kid. He’ll be fine,” she sneered, before taking off and leaving me to chase after her through the crowds.
I finally found her outside, and we walked in silence through the parking lot. I was relieved when she approached a van and not her bike. I might’ve wanted to get to my brother as soon as possible, but I wasn’t exactly looking forward to wrapping my arms around her
waist, and holding on tight for the half hour commute to the hospital.
We got in, and she tossed the van in reverse before heading toward the 101.
“So,” she finally said, after fifteen minutes of silence. “You took off again. Don’t tell me Ryder knocked you up for the second time.”
All the air in my lungs vacated my body. “He told you,” I stated, surprised she was able to keep it to herself this long.
She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Of course he did. We’re family.”
“Last time I was here, Ryder wasn’t even talking to you.”
“That’s the thing about family, Sawyer. Even when you hate each other, you’re still there for one another when it counts. The MC taught us that. No matter what, we’ve got each other’s back. Now, tell me something. What has running ever got you?”
I shifted in my seat, and focused my attention on the passing cars because I didn’t have answer for her. At least, not one I wanted to share. Because, if I was being honest with myself, the only thing running ever got me was heartbreak.
***
The hospital came into view both too quickly and yet not fast enough. I felt like I had bricks in my stomach, my emotions flip flopping, anger and grief twirling into an ugly knot. I wanted to see my brother, but I was so furious at the whole situation. Mostly, I was furious at myself.
I knew, in my head, that leaving this time had no impact on what happened, but I couldn’t help but think this was all my fault. I ran to escape the club, and to save my son, but, in doing so, I left my baby brother behind to the very people I despised and blamed for all the wrong that happened in my life.
The tires squealed as Trista flew into a space, not bothering to come to a full stop before slamming the car in park. I hopped out, not expecting her to do the same. “You don’t have to walk me in,” I said.
She shrugged. “It’s my shift anyway.”
“Shift?” I questioned, but she ignored me, and kept walking. I followed her, trying to keep pace as she blew past the front desk and right into the elevator. She clearly had been to see Cruz before now.
Forgiven: Ryder and Sawyer 3 (Fallen Idols Motorcycle Club Book 9) Page 1
