“She has a broken arm,” the doctor said, “a concussion, and a lot of bumps and bruises. But she’s extremely lucky to be alive.”
“Can we see her now?” I asked.
He nodded. “She’s probably a little groggy from the pain medication, but you can see her.”
Ace and I walked into the room, and I nearly broke down all over again at the sight of my sister in the hospital bed. It felt like history was repeating itself, the universe determined to take out everyone I loved.
“Birdie, what happened?”
She blinked as though she was trying to figure it out herself, and her voice was scratchy when she spoke. “Something was wrong with your car.”
“What do you mean?” I frowned.
“The steering wheel.” She made a gesture with her hand. “I don’t know what happened. It felt like something just gave out, and I lost control.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said.
Beside me, Ace was tense and growly when he spoke. “It does if someone’s been fucking with the car.”
Blood rushed from my head to my heart as I looked at Birdie. “I told you it wasn’t safe here. This is why.”
“It was your car,” she shot back. “So obviously, whoever did it wasn’t after me.”
That thought was sobering. It could have been me. I could have lost the baby or my sister. I sat down while I tried to process that. “Who would do that?”
“Do you think…” Birdie’s voice trailed off as her senses caught up with her and she realized Ace was still in the room.
“I don’t think so,” I answered.
There’s no way it could have anything to do with our past. Or at least, I needed to believe that.
“The book,” she said. “Maybe someone put it together.”
“No,” I insisted. “It must have been an accident. Maybe something was faulty on the car.”
“I’ll look at it,” Ace said. “But either way, I’m calling some of my buddies to keep an eye on you two for now.”
AFTER A FEW DAYS,BIRDIEwas already going out of her mind being cooped up in the house. We refused to stay at the clubhouse like Ace asked us to, so he’d sent reinforcements to us instead.
I never in a million years thought my life would come to this, but here we were, sitting down to dinner with a bunch of scruffy men in leathers. They weren’t much for conversation, so Birdie and I kept it between ourselves until Ace walked in. His shirt was stained with grease, and it was obvious he’d been working on something. I hoped it was my car because I was anxious to hear what he thought.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked.
“Pasta,” Birdie griped. “Again.”
I shrugged. “That’s what happens when you let the preggo dictate the menu every night.”
Ace dished himself a heaping plate and sat down in an empty space at the table, shoving forkfuls of food into his mouth as though he hadn’t eaten all day. I intended to let him finish his meal first, but Birdie had other ideas.
“Have you figured anything out yet?” she asked. “I’m going stir-crazy here.”
Ace shot her a pointed look. “It won’t kill you to stay out of trouble for a change.”
Birdie mumbled something under her breath, and Ace chose to ignore it, though I doubted that happened often.
“I took a look at the car,” he said. “Tore the whole thing apart. It was definitely tampered with.”
My stomach sank, and I set down my fork as I looked at him for answers. “How?”