Feeling ancient, my joints creaking as much as the pipes, I registered that the caffeine had yet to make that much of an effect on me as I headed for the door. Seeing the strange kid standing on the veranda through the window, assuming it was this Harlow I’d been hearing so much about, I opened it with narrowed eyes.
He was a couple inches shorter than me, weedy but wiry too. The kind of kid who lived on his nerves but who packed a mean punch. Mav had been like that back in the day. Whenever he’d had to stand still, he’d bobbed on his feet as if he had too much energy to expend.
Harlow didn’t do that but he throbbed with intensity.
As our gazes collided, I asked, “What do you want?”
I didn’t need this today. Not any day, to be frank, yet fuck, it never rained but it poured.
I knew our hands were tied where he was concerned. If we wanted to figure out how he knew we were involved in Haune’s death, then we needed him to cooperate. But there were ways and means of making that happen.
Storing him in the Fridge was at the top of that list…
He had no idea that his words were what spared him. That tipped the balance.
“I want to make sure that no one’s brother or sister goes through what Jessie did.” He blinked as I leaned against the door jamb, lifting my arm so that it could take my weight. “I want to make sure that no one has to feel like I feel because they let their—” His voice choked.
“It’s one thing to want vengeance; it’s another to act on it.”
“No, it isn’t. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat without wanting to puke. I can’t breathe without feeling like someone’s standing on my throat. I let her down, man. I let my baby sister down.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “I want to avenge her. I want to protect others like her. I want to do what the authorities won’t—”
“Come in.”
I stepped back to punctuate my statement, watching him jolt in surprise. But the relief that swarmed his expression had me tilting my gaze away because I knew he was going to cry, and the kid didn’t need me to see that.
Respect filled me, but I wasn’t the only one he’d have to convince.
I closed the door behind me then said, “Go straight ahead into the kitchen and take a seat at the table.”
He peered back at me, more nervous now than before.
Smart kid.
But he did as I asked and sat down beside the head of the table where my coffee cup was resting.
I watched him all the while then asked, “Why are you here? Today of all days?”
He licked his lips. “I-I know that Nyx—” Harlow frowned down at the table. “I didn’t expect to get through the gates when I first arrived at the compound. I figure it’s because you want to know what I know that I’m even this far—”
I sat down. “What do you know?”
“I wouldn’t tell the cops,” he muttered. “Wouldn’t help those fucking pigs—”
“What do you know, Harlow?”
He swallowed again but repeated, “I wouldn’t tell the cops.”
“Even if that’s the only reason we’d let you tag along?”
“Whether you help or don’t, I won’t change my mind.”
“You’ll just end up in jail faster, huh?”
His jaw tightened. “I’m willing to do that. I’d prefer not to because those bastards don’t deserve justice.”
I studied him. “What were you doing before Jessie died?”
“I was a student.”
“There’s a big age gap between you and Jessie, isn’t there?”
“Same dad, different moms. But I didn’t care about that. I loved her,” he said stubbornly, as if he’d had to justify the extent of his grief before.
“‘Course you did,” I said calmly, because if I was going to give him shit, it wouldn’t be about that. “What did you study?”
Everything about him locked up, turned tense. An oddly mutinous expression drifted over his features before he ground out, “Theology.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Theology?”
I was pretty sure with whatever Lodestar and Rachel had done to investigate him, they’d be able to tell me why he was being cagey, but his defiance keyed me in like nothing else could.
“At a seminary?”
He didn’t look at me. “I was there that night. That’s how I know who killed Haune.”
Pursing my lips, I put two and two together. “We got to him before you did?”
“Yes. I hated you for that.” He gulped. “Then I saw Haune when you lynched him, and I knew I would never have thought about doing any of that.”
“Did you call the cops?”
“Only once I was sure he died.”
“Did he speak with you?”
For the first time, a smile curled on his lips. “He did.” His gaze finally drifted to mine. “He begged me to help him.”
Mine narrowed as he maintained eye contact. “How did you know I’d be here today?”
He didn’t flinch. “Eavesdropped.”
“And what is it you think I can do for you?”
“Make your men accept me.”
I almost laughed as I snagged a banana from the fruit bowl on the table. As I unpeeled it, I drawled, “I can’t make them accept you.” That was on him. Before he could respond, I asked, “You a sadist, Harlow?”
He didn’t blink at the change of topic. “Once upon a time, I’d have said that I wasn’t. Now I don’t know. Now I just know that…” A breath shuddered from his lips. “These Sparrows—the headlines—I realized the cops are all dirty. If I want justice, if I want to give survivors peace, then I need to do it myself, but if I’m in a jail cell, then I can’t do anything either. I need to not get caught.”
His logic was sound.
Much as Nyx’s was, when he’d come to me after he’d blown up Kevin’s head with a shotgun he’d tampered with.
It was almost like twenty years hadn’t passed.
Almost like I was sixteen again, wondering what the fuck to do, knowing that I needed my dad’s help to make sure Nyx didn’t go to prison for what he’d done.
How ironic when my safety net wasn’t there anymore.
When, in fact, I was having to be my dad’s safety net…
“Will you help me?” Harlow pleaded.
The last thing I wanted was to eat, but I chowed down a good quarter of the banana before I reasoned, “This isn’t a charity.” His shoulders slumped before I continued, “We’re an MC. You’re a guy who wanted to be a priest. We’ll only help if you join us. Become a Prospect.
"I hate to be obvious but we’re not exactly on the right side of the law—whichever philosophy of law you aspire to. Our ways of life are…”
“Discordant.”
The word fired into the room like a bullet from a gun.
I cast Rachel a look, saw the shadows beneath her eyes and the exhaustion etched into her features, and I nodded. “Discordant.”
Harlow had tensed at Rachel’s presence, and it only amped up when she stepped inside. “So, you’re the man who wants to avenge his sister.”