Page 28 of Emmy's Ride

“No. But sometimes ignorance is a damn mercy.”

We fell into an uncomfortable silence again for a few moments, the only sounds being the road beneath us and ourheavy breaths. But I couldn’t let it go—not this time. Not when everything was coming to light, not when my brother’s life might have been in more danger than I ever could’ve imagined.

So much unsaid, so much buried beneath layers of everything we wouldn’t talk about. “You knew he was involved in all of this... and you just let him?”

Austin’s eyes flicked to mine, finally meeting my gaze. “I wasn’t his keeper. He made his choices. I didn’t agree with them, but Luke’s always been stubborn. Like you.”

“I’m not like that,” I muttered, even though I knew he was right. I was just as stubborn. Just as determined to protect the people I loved, even if it meant pushing them away.

“Yeah, you are,” he said, almost like he was trying to soften the truth in his words. “I get it. You think Luke should’ve been able to lean on you. But sometimes people have their own battles to fight. And we don’t wanna drag the ones we love into it.”

I kept my mouth shut for a moment, letting his words settle deep in my chest. He was right, wasn’t he? Both of us had been trying to fight our battles alone—Luke and me, and even Austin, trying to carry the load for both of us. “I wish I’d known," I murmured, "I would have convinced him that nothing mattered more to me than his safety. We would have gotten by somehow."

Austin glanced at me again, his expression easing—for an instant, just a crack in the wall he'd built around himself. "He didn’t want you to have to settle. He wanted you to be happy and have the future you wanted. That’s all I’ve ever wanted too.”

My gaze shifted back to the road, my mind circling again. “Why do you think I still care so much?” I whispered, mostly to myself but loud enough for him to hear. “After everything you’ve all done, everything the club takes... why does it still hurt when I see you, when I feel you close?”

“Cause you never stopped caring, Em. And neither did I.”

I sighed, my heart sinking. "Then why does it always feel like you're leaving me behind, even when you're right in front of me?"

Despite the closeness in the car between the two of us, the distance still felt immeasurable.

Finally, Austin’s hand reached out, gentle yet insistent on my arm. “Emmy, I’m sorry. For so many things. I should have done more. I should have tried harder to stop him. I should have been there for you when you needed me. I never meant to make you feel like you held second place in my life.”

His words, sincere and laden with regret, pressed into me. I remembered our earlier days, when our paths were intertwined so deeply that nothing else mattered. I remembered the laughter, the fights, the way we’d defied the world together. But those days felt like a lifetime ago. I had chosen a different path, one that demanded I channel my strength into saving others—and yet, the thought of losing Luke, of never seeing him again, tore at me.

“Do you remember,” I said quietly, “when I first started coming to the clubhouse? I was so young, Dad never let me come. But once he was gone, Luke let me tag along with him. Never in the bar, but I could go with him to the garage or the kitchen. I used to think I’d never be more than Luke’s little shadow. I was determined to prove I was my own person, that I didn’t need anyone.”

“I remember,” he replied. “You were fierce, unstoppable. And I always admired that about you, Emmy.”

My mind churned with conflicting emotions—pride, regret, fear, and a desperate longing that I’d tried so hard to bury. I wasn’t sure if I was angry with him for not being there, or with myself for still needing him.

Austin broke the silence again, his tone tentative. “I’m going to look into this, Emmy. I promise you that I’ll find out whathappened to Luke. And if there’s any sign of him being in danger…” He let the rest of the sentence fade.

“Thank you,” I whispered, the words barely reaching my lips. “I just… I need to know, Austin. I need to understand why he got caught up in that life, why he risked everything and for what?”

He sighed, and I could see the conflict in his eyes—an old wound reopened. “Luke fought because he felt like he had no other choice. Sometimes, the world forces your hand. And I was too busy trying to keep the club together to see the cracks in his armor.”

I felt tears prick my eyes, not from anger, but from the raw truth in his words. “I was terrified, Austin,” I confessed, voice shaking. “Every time I heard he was on a mission, I felt like I was left here to watch the pieces of my life crumble. And you… you were always there, the only constant. But then again, you weren’t.”

His hand squeezed mine, and in that moment, I knew that despite everything, some parts of our past were inescapable. “I loved you then, Emmy. I still do. I always will.”

The admission hit me like a tidal wave. My heart, already battered by years of fighting and running, thudded loudly in the confined space of the car. I closed my eyes, letting his words wash over me. It wasn’t just love—it was a promise, a connection that time and distance couldn’t sever.

But it was painful too. The memories of lost chances, the nights I’d cried myself to sleep, the guilt that I’d chosen my future over my family. I could feel the conflicting storms within me—one part longing to embrace that old, familiar warmth, and another part determined never to be hurt again.

As we pulled up outside the compound, I hesitated, my hand hovering over the door handle. “Austin,” I said quietly, not wanting to break the fragile peace between us, “I...”

He turned toward me, his eyes full of concern. “I know. But I promise, Emmy, we’ll get through this. I’m not leaving you to face it alone. And then… we’ll talk.”

I replied with a single nod.

Back in Austin’s room, my hands trembled as I dabbed a clean cloth against the gash above his eye, the pressure of his wound matching the ache in my heart. He sat on the bed, silent and brooding, eyes fixed on me as if trying to memorize every line of my determined face. I swallowed hard, my fingers carefully applying delicate butterfly bandages

And then, as if drawn by a force beyond both our wills, his lips met mine. It began as a tentative touch—a soft, reverent press that slowly deepened into a kiss that was all-consuming. Every lingering moment, every desperate pull, spoke of a passion that had simmered beneath years of separation, of battles waged wordlessly.

In that kiss, I felt the echoes of all our past nights: the stolen moments in a dimly lit room, the promises whispered in the dark, and the quiet heartbreak of our partings. For a fleeting, exquisite moment, I allowed myself to forget the scars, to believe that perhaps, this time, we could heal together. I melted into him, my heart daring to hope even as my mind screamed warnings.

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