It’s well after midnight as I finally sneak out of Sawyer’s room with the duffel over my shoulder, wearing one of his black hoodies in a meager attempt at camouflage. The noise from the common room died down over an hour ago. Figuring the Brothers are either passed out or left for home, now is probably my best chance to sneak out of here.
Admittedly, my plan is… thin. Sneak out the door I saw in the kitchen, sweet talk the prospect manning the gate to let me out, giving me at least a little bit of a head start before he tattles on me to King, and then run back home to grab my car and head out.
Yeah. That’ll totally work.
I know it’s a bad plan but it’s all I have at this point. I need to get out of here and get my boy. If that means sneaking out of a heavily fortified and guarded biker compound in the middle of the night, so be it. I make it down the long hallway without incident but stop dead in my tracks when I round the corner and see Roxy sitting at the bar nursing a drink and a smoke.
Ah, goddammit. Of course she’s up, keeping an eye on things before it all settles into the truly quiet part of the night.
Deciding the logical thing to do is to flatten myself against the wall and slide along it, I do just that and slowly make my way toward the front doors. I make it all the way to the doors and am about to pull them open when a throat clearing behind me freezes me in my tracks.
“Nice try little lady. I appreciate the effort, but did you honestly think that would work?” she says with a teasing grin on her features.
“Would it have helped if I sang the Mission Impossible theme under my breath as I did it?” I joke, attempting to lighten the mood and the reprimand I’m about to receive.
“Honestly? Probably not, but it would have made the story so much more fun to tell tomorrow,” she deadpans, ashing into the tray at her elbow. Seriously, how the hell did I end up at a biker compound where they take their work seriously enough to be sober while prepping, let alone be run by the most paranoid and anal-retentive couple on the planet.
“Worth a shot,” I shrug.
“Come little one, have a drink with me,” she says, patting the stool next to her. I settle on the stool next to her and she continues, pouring me a drink from the bottle of rum in front of her. “Sawyer left incredibly strict instructions to not let you out of our sight while he was gone. And King wisely agreed with him after I gave him the look.”
I can’t help but laugh at that; the thought of this slight woman bringing the gaggle of beefy bikers to heel with just a look.
“Please, I need to find my son. He is the only thing I have; I just can’t sit here and wait for a bunch of strangers to bring him home...” I plead.
“Home huh?” she says, taking a final pull on her cigarette and putting it out. “I didn’t realize you had acknowledged that you’re home yet,” she says, hiding a small smile behind her glass.
Shit, did I just say that? I did… and… I think I meant it. When the hell did that happen?
“I, I guess I did.” I say, confusion running across my face. “But I mean it Roxy, Evan needs his mother to be there when he’s found. These hairy thugs will just scare him and have no idea how to take care of a baby,” I say, trying to get back on track to getting the hell out of here as soon as possible.
“There is definitely some truth there, these babes can barely take care of themselves some days,” she says with a chuckle. “Tessa, this life is tough, but rewarding. These men are worth every ounce we give them, because they pay it back tenfold without a single word in protest. But… sometimes that means we have to let them do their thing because they are right, us Ladies put them at risk and expose them,” she says seriously, drawing my attention at the weight of her words. She watches as her words sink in and my head drops in thought.
I’m toast. I know she’s right, but I need to go, to be there for Evan.
She continues, “The hardest thing we have to do though, is to know when to tell them they are wrong and stand our ground as they rage.” I snap my head up, looking her in the eyes and finding nothing but steel and determination. “Can you be that for Sawyer? Can you be his support, his guidepost, his solace? Can you be strong enough to heal him so he can in turn heal you?”
“Yes…” the words whisper out of my mouth, barely able to keep up with her. “I can be that for him… I want to be that for him. I… I…” I trial off lost in the roiling emotions this woman has pulled out of me faster than a rocket.
“That’s what I thought, I could see it in your eyes at the party, I could see it in the way he carried you here yesterday,” she says, a gleam of triumph in her eyes. “Take this and drive safe.”
She slides me a heavy envelope with a misshapen bulge in the middle. I flip it open to a set of keys, a new Minnesota Driver’s license and a stack of twenties.
“Roxy, I can’t take this. No way could I pay this back in a hundred years,” I protest, confused and lost.
“The car’s a loan, I expect it back in one piece, but I can’t have you driving that POS you call a car back across the country. The rest, well, if you do what I think you’ll do for Sawyer, I’ll consider it a debt well paid,” she smiles, putting her hand on top of mine and closing it over the envelope. “Show the probie at the gate this,” she says, handing me a silver token the size of a silver dollar with the patch emblem stamped into it, “he’ll let you out and won’t give you any trouble on the way. Oh, and give it to Sawyer when you find him, it may keep his anger from totally exploding.” she finishes.
I pick up the token and turn it over in my hand, examining it. “What is it?”
“It’s an Officer Chit. Only the club officers have one and is basically a ‘no questions asked, guaranteed favor’. Anyone associated with the club will recognize it and respect it. King won’t miss this one for a few days.” Roxy explains, giving me a conspiratorial wink.
“Roxy, I… Thank you,” I say, standing and giving her a hug, overwhelmed with emotion and not sure what else to do.
“Be safe, and don’t make that boy wait one moment longer before he has his mother. Be strong, stand your ground, and love him. If you can do that, all will be well. Now go, you’ll have to drive all night to catch up to them.”
Chapter 24
Sawyer
Driving for 28 hours in a metal box with a bunch of stinking bikers sucks ass. Not knowing what we’re heading into is even worse. By the time we pull into the shitty motel just outside Seattle, I’m ready for a shower and some fresh air away from Cotton and his nasty stinking feet.
The only good thing to come out of that drive was the call we got about eight hours ago from Tinker and King. As if taking Evan wasn’t enough of a pansy-ass dick move, turns out Sir Shit-Stain nabbed Tessa’s sister, Alexis, as well. From what Tinker could dig up, David has been a busy little asshole the last couple of years, growing his business and earning favors from the Pikesmen MC. His plating shop started out as a family business run by his uncle; Shit-Stain took it over when he retired about five years ago. Three years ago, the Pikesmen MC started using David to do all the plating for the custom bike business they run as their primary front and laundromat across town. Apparently, things stayed above board for a while but eventually David hit a rough patch and went deeper with the Pikesmen. His warehouse became the main storage and transfer location for their drug shipments; the volume of supplies coming in and out for legitimate business hiding the increased volume. Being their watchdog must have come with some perks because not only did they snatch Evan and Lexi, it looks like they also helped David murder of Lexi’s fiancé.