Page 8 of Sin

Savannah where the fuck are you?

This isn't funny, you stupid bitch!

You think you can leave me. You think you can just leave like that and there won’t be consequences. There are always consequences when you fuck up.

You think you can hide. I don't fucking think so.

Remember where you belong.

You think you can leave like this. You remember who I am.

There are hundreds of texts, just like those. Missed calls and voicemails plague my phone.

Meredith and my parents were even texting me. Tyson must have told everyone that I left. "Can I see, please?" Without a second thought, I hand him the phone.

"What the fuck!"

"Yeah." I can't look at him.

"Who sent these?" Sin’s voice is harsh. I can't answer him. "Savannah, who sent these texts?" His eyes move back and forth across the screen. With each flick of his thumb, I can see the fury in his eyes. The anger isn’t the same as I've seen in Tyson's eyes. Tyson always looked crazy, like he checked out when he got pissed. But Sin, his eyes hold the devil himself in their fury. "Is it the same person who did that shit to your face?" I nod. No words were needed. I don't want to waste anything else on Tyson Redding. "Were you running?" I nod again. "From where? How far are you away from him?" He tosses the phone onto the bed.

"Well, since I don’t know exactly where in New Mexico I am, I can't really answer that question. But I'm from Fort Worth. He lives in Fort Worth."

"Okay, that's good. That's not too close. It's not like its right around the corner or anything, so you're safe here. We're in Las Cruses."

"It's not far enough." I say, defeated.

"It's far enough, believe me."

"Unfortunately you don't know him."

"Well, I can say the same thing about me. You don't know me. You don't know us."

I don't say anything to his declaration. There's no reason to argue. Tyson will find me, there will be no hiding, I'm sure of it. I don't know what I was thinking when I took off after he left Sunday. The texts weren't warnings, or even threats. They were promises.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Just a few years of bad choices. That's it. Nothing more to discuss."

"Do you need anything?" Before I can answer, my phone begins to ring again. Sin's reflexes react and he snatches the phone from the bed before I can even touch it. His face relaxes and he passes the phone to me. The screen read 'Mom'. "I'll let you take it. There's a bathroom through there. I'll be back in thirty minutes." He waits until I grab the phone before leaving the room. Now I need to tell my parents the truth about their daughter.

"She's from Fort Worth." I say, my voice clipped. Cut raises his eyebrow, questioning my tone.

"Dyke, run it. Savannah from Fort Worth, tell us what you've got." Seth 'Dyke' Dawson is our in-house computer guru. Dyke's irreplaceable since he's a big reason why we're so successful in the club’s second business. He's one of the original hackers. He was hacking before hacking was a thing. Dyke has always been able to get the information that isn't available to get. Yeah, he's that good. Shocking too since he's the same age my father would be. He and my dad started this club when they were just two white trash kids trying to get involved in something other than the life living in a trailer park provided. Luckily they had each other and my dad's idea of the life he wanted, and Dyke's ability to obtain it. We do alright running Fury, our club's motorcycle shop, but the real money is what we do behind the scenes.

For years now, the club has been cashing in on heads. Yeah, that's right. We don’t go after those who missed their court dates because they got a speeding ticket. The ones that are your typical bail jumpers. We go after those who don't want to be found and then use any means necessary to hide, to become ghosts. Dyke can usually smoke 'em out. We're paid big money because the people we go after are worth more money caught and handed over to the right people instead of sitting behind bars. We do the dirty work, but the money is nice, and we end up sitting pretty.

Dyke leaves the room to head to his den while the others all turn to look at me.

"What?" I already feel defensive.

"What's up?" Cut asks.

"Nothing." I don’t make eye contact with him.

"Sin, shit, just fucking tell us already or Cut isn't going to lay off you."

"You don't know shit, Hawk." Cut spat.