Into the Sunset
Автор
Iandra Taylor
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838K
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Sadie, a devoted wife and mother, sees her life shatter when she catches her husband at a local bar with another woman. Left alone and with nothing, she finds herself at rock bottom. But when the local motorcycle club steps in to help her rebuild, Sadie begins to discover a new strength within herself. As she starts to pick up the pieces, she unexpectedly finds herself drawn to Wrench, a younger biker determined to support her. In a small town with rigid ideas about marriage and divorce, can Sadie carve out a new path and find love again after losing it all?
Chapter 1
SADIE
There was a text on my phone from an unknown number.
Unknown
Check on your husband.
It was odd, but so many things over the years had been odd.
It was three in the afternoon. For most of our marriage, Adam had worked second shift, but he’d switched to first shift about two years ago. That meant he should be at work. I didn’t know if it meant there’d been an accident or if it was something else.
I took a bathroom break and hid in a stall to call his workplace.
“Sorry, Mrs. Henderson, but he isn’t here. He’s not even scheduled today.”
Yet he left the house this morning and told me he would be working late.
Strike one.
I’d often thought Adam was cheating on me, but I’d never had the evidence to prove it.
When I first suspected he was unfaithful, I had a small child and no way to support us both if I left. But Garrett hadn’t been a child for a while. He was seventeen now, almost eighteen, and could make his own choices in life.
Worried, I clocked out and went home to see if Adam was there.
His truck wasn’t in its parking spot.
As I pulled into my spot next to his, Garrett walked out of the apartment building to head to his part-time job.
“Garrett, have you talked to your father? Is he all right?” I asked.
He looked at me with hatred in his eyes as he stalked to his car. “Why do you always fucking ask me? If either of us had something to say to your pathetic ass, we would tell you.”
He pulled open the car door before turning to me once more. “Just leave me the fuck alone. And while you’re at it, leave Dad alone too. He has something better with her. I don’t see why he hasn’t left your fat ass yet.”
Then he got into his car and pulled away.
I always tried to make sure my son could never say that I was unfair or that I abused him. No matter what he threw my way, I always treated him with all the love I had. He was the light of my life, even when he was doing everything he could to not be.
When he was little, Garrett was the kindest child I’d ever known. But over time, his father had molded him into someone I no longer recognized. He was always a daddy’s boy. And it was getting harder and harder to listen to the vile words that came out of his mouth.
If I’d left back then, I know I would have had to fight to get custody of him. I would have had to find not only a way to pay for our everyday life but a lawyer too. On top of that, I wouldn’t have had any support. I would have been utterly alone, with only my child for comfort.
Over the years, I’d learned to hide my feelings, to not show how much the men in my life hurt me. I saw how happy it made them to treat me like I didn’t matter, and I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing that their words cut me inside.
Late at night, while Garrett was in his room and Adam was at work, I would go into the guest room and turn on the loud fan. Only then would I let my emotions out.
That little room had become my safe haven—the place I cried myself to sleep as I wondered where I’d gone wrong with all this. What had I done to deserve the shit life I had?
I slept in that room. I took all the pain and hopelessness I felt and turned it into something beautiful in that room. I became the woman I am today in that room.
Hunched over a second-hand laptop, I’d found hope in words. In the worlds I created. In the characters I brought to life. In the stories that flowed from my fingers and onto the page.
I was still standing, staring at where my son’s car had been parked when my phone pinged with another text from the same unknown number.
It was an address.
I had a general idea of where it was, and I knew I wouldn’t have a problem getting there.
I got into my car and put the address into my GPS. After a deep breath, I pulled onto the street, but my mind remained in the secluded comfort of the guest room.
As time passed, I only left the room to cook, clean, and go to work. After years of listening to their complaints and abuse, it was easier to escape—to hide from them.
I often thought about why I didn’t just leave. Didn’t just pack up my meager belongings and run away from it all.
Before now, I wouldn’t have been able to make it on my own. Adam had ruined my credit. He controlled our finances, and until recently, I had no way of supporting myself.
Not even my parents would have taken me in. They would have turned me away and told me I needed to go crawling back to my husband, begging for forgiveness.
They raised me to be the perfect Southern lady—to not argue with my husband and to follow the teachings of the church. The man is the head of the house, and therefore, he can do no wrong.
Divorce was an unpardonable sin according to this town of religious fanatics. It didn’t matter if your husband was unfaithful or if he beat you. You were the one who was breaking God’s law if you left him.
And that stigma would follow a divorced woman around to her dying day.
It wasn’t like my parents didn’t know what was going on. Whenever I would complain about him, my mother would tell me I needed to pray for God to give me the grace to be more understanding.
Eventually, I stopped complaining about how Adam treated me. I actually started to believe the bullshit she spouted. I couldn’t let Adam take all the blame. Part of this was my fault for not standing up for myself, for not just being better.
Now, however, it was a different story. I was in a different place.
Years of hiding in the guest bedroom meant I had years of published books under my belt. I’d hidden every penny I made from my writing and covered my tracks as if I were some undercover spy in a foreign land.
I wouldn’t be helpless again. Right now, I just needed something to push me over the edge—something to make me finally leave the bastard.
Something like an address from an anonymous texter.
It only took five minutes to get there. I didn’t venture to this side of town often; I wasn’t one to go out much at all. I had too much on my plate with my full-time job, housework, and writing books.
I pulled up in front of what used to be the old motel. The town of Centerville was small, and for years, the old motel had been the only place for visitors to stay.
Six years ago, when it had finally closed, a motorcycle club bought it. According to town gossip, it was turned into a clubhouse.
I sat in the parking lot of what looked like the old lobby and stared at the building. A lot had changed. From my car, I could tell that the lobby and a few of the first-floor rooms had been turned into a bar.
There was now a second building peeking out from behind it. More rooms? Though I knew it no longer functioned as a motel. Maybe some of the men lived there.
The sign across the front read “Sinner’s Pride.” I snorted a small laugh.
Some days, it felt like this town had more churches than people.
For years, the religious fanatics had protested the building of any bars or liquor stores in town. When the club had first bought the motel and submitted the permits to turn it into a bar, those churches had raised a huge stink.
But this time, the club won. And based on the number of cars in the parking lot at three-thirty in the afternoon, they were doing quite well for themselves.
This was the first time I’d actually looked at the building since they moved into town. It was not at all what I’d pictured.
The building was clean, and the grounds were free of litter. Although I’d never been to an MC’s clubhouse or bar before, I’d read some books about them. By books, I meant romances. And I knew they weren’t something I could take as gospel about biker life.
I could see Adam’s truck parked at the other side of the lot. So, the anonymous text was right. He was here.
I closed my eyes and prepared myself for what I might find when I went inside. Did I want to find something? Did I want to see my husband in a way that I’d never seen him before?
I couldn’t really think of an answer.
At one point, years ago, we’d had a great relationship. When we first started dating, everything was good. Happy. Even the first few years of our marriage were good.
Everything changed once Garrett came along. It was like I was living with a stranger. Gone was the Adam I’d fallen in love with. Now, almost eighteen years later, I still didn’t have a clue what had happened.
Maybe now would be the time to ask him just that. Or maybe not. All I knew for sure was that as soon as I walked through that door, my life would change forever.
I got out of the car and slowly walked to the entrance. The door didn’t make a sound as I walked inside. No one paid any attention to me either.
I looked around, squinting until my eyes adjusted to the darkness—and I found what I was looking for.
I was right. Nothing would ever be the same.
