Chapter 2
Natalie
The Savage Legion clubhouse looks nothing like the place I thought it would be. I thought it would be rough, worn, and filled with men in leather jackets with scraggly beards and poor hygiene. I imagined a metal burn barrel out front, and bikes lined up as far as the eye can see.
I was right about the bikes. As for the rest, instead of a run-down hovel, it’s some kind of gated compound with a main building that looks like a sports bar.
And the men milling about outside have neatly trimmed beards for the most part.
They’re well dressed in jeans and their club vests.
They look rough, but not in a gang type of way
For once, I’m not walking into a place that feels crowded or neglected. The thought makes my chest ache in a way I’m not ready for. I’m not used to spaces that look like they’ve been built with care, especially for the people who live there.
I hesitate at the front steps, a bit worried that the non-threatening manner of the outside won’t continue. My heart is hammering in my chest and my palms are sweaty. I have to do this, I tell myself. I don’t have another choice. So, I snatch up all my courage and head inside.
An older man dressed all in black with long, dark hair is inspecting the tag on a fire extinguisher.
With the cross around his neck, he looks more like a renegade preacher from a cowboy film rather than a biker.
Seeing the cross sends a chill down my spine and makes me think about what I’m running from.
I take a breath and step further inside.
Despite his foreboding appearance, his eyes are kind when he glances up.
“Can I help you?” he asks.
I clear my throat and answer anxiously, “My name is Natalie. I’m looking for Rick Mullins.”
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Natalie,” he says extending his hand. “I’m Rigs.”
I shake his hand, and glance around nervously.
Rigs studies me a second longer and then turns his head towards the back of the bar. “Rick,” he calls in a deep voice. “You have a visitor.”
I freeze, too nervous to move without permission.
I’ve only seen pictures of Rick on the club’s website.
He helped out with a charity cookout several months ago.
I’ve been searching for him for years, and the moment of truth has finally come.
I don’t know the rules here. I don’t want to embarrass him in front of his club brothers or annoy him before I even get a chance to tell him what I came to say.
Hurried footsteps approach from the back.
A man comes into view with sandy brown hair and hazel eyes, like me.
He has a certain kind of restless energy I recognize written all over him.
His sharp eyes land on me and jump away just as quickly.
He seems wary, but I’m practically vibrating with excitement because it feels like I’m looking at a masculine version of myself.
“Yeah?” he says to Rigs. “What’s up?”
Jerking his chin in my direction, he tells Rick, “You have a visitor.”
Rick glances at me, looking confused. “Do I know you?”
“Are you Rick Mullins?”
“Yeah,” he says. “That’s me. Who are you?”
I take a breath and meet his gaze. “I think I’m your sister.”
Rick stares at me like I’m a sad little lost puppy who doesn’t know who I belong to. Suspicion starts edging into his confused expression. Then his expression closes down entirely, but not before I see a flash of hurt.
“This ain’t funny,” he states flatly.
“I’m not joking,” I answer quickly. “I wouldn’t joke about something this important. I promise.”
The older man states helpfully, “Maybe you can sit down at one of the tables in the back and talk.”
Ignoring him, Rick lets out a short, humorless laugh. “I don’t have a sister. In fact, I don’t have any family at all. I’m a fuckin’ orphan who was raised in foster care.”
“I know,” I say. “Me too. Our mom got pregnant with me about a year after you were taken. My social worker told me that I was taken at birth, but I had an older brother. I’m Natalie Mullins. See, we have the same last name.”
Rigs speaks up, clearly aggravated with my brother. “This ain’t the kind of conversation you have standing out in the open. If you don’t find some privacy, I’m gonna beat your ass myself.”
My eyes go wide, but when I look back at Rigs, I realize he’s likely just joking. He doesn’t look particularly angry. More like a disgruntled parent.
Another man appears in my peripheral vision. He’s huge, quiet, and motionless. Rick shoots him a look that I can’t decipher. I don’t know who this third man is and I don’t care. I keep my eyes on my brother because he’s all that matters to me.
After a few seconds, he rakes the fingers of one hand through his hair. “I don’t know who you are or what your game is, but I’m not falling for it. You need to leave,” he says. “Right now.”
“I’ll leave if you really don’t want a sister.”
“What is it you want from me? I ain’t got any money if that’s your game.” he says.
“I just want a minute of your time. You’re the only family I’ve got. Please don’t turn me away without giving me a chance to explain.”
Rick hesitates, glancing at the third man again. He’s clearly torn between walking away and hearing me out.
My eyes rake over the other man. He’s huge, a mountain of a man. He’s also probably the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. But I’m not here for the eye candy.
The big stranger says, “You should hear her out, Rick. What if what she’s saying is true?”
Finally, Rick jerks his head towards a small table off to the side. “Okay, you’ve got two minutes.”
Turning to the big man, he says roughly, “You too, Bear. Since you’re so eager to give your fuckin’ opinion on my personal life.”
Bear. The name fits. His impressive size is clearly why they tagged him with that nickname. He has medium brown hair and striking brown eyes.
I take a seat and try to gather my thoughts. I’m only going to get one chance to explain things to my brother, so I need to choose my words carefully. I don’t know why he’s being so prickly. Maybe I’m the only one thrilled to have a sibling. If so, that makes me sad.
Rick and his friend take their seats at the table. An awkward silence spins out between the three of us. When I look up, my brother is staring at me.
“Start at the beginning and tell me everything,” he says sternly.
I perk up immediately because that’s more encouragement than I thought I’d get from him.
“I grew up in foster care, got shifted around but ended up in the one place. It was okay I guess… when I was younger. But as I got older, I realized they used the older kids as unpaid childminders. My foster father was a part-time minister in our small community, and my foster mother spent a lot of time engaged in her own pursuits. Neither worked, they just collected money from the state.”
“Are you saying they treated you like a slave?”
His quiet friend provides the missing word. “Parentified. That’s what you call it.”
“Are you asking if they turned me into the parent?”
Bear nods. “Yeah. Were you the one who did everything for them?”
I nod, somewhat embarrassed. “Yeah. They had a strict routine for all of us, and I followed it to the letter.”
Rick’s brows furrow, but he murmurs, “Where was this?”
“Point Gap, near Sacramento,” I say.
Rick nods.
I continue, as he seems interested. “Well, I was getting bullied in junior high and my foster parents talked to my teacher, but nothing changed. They didn’t know what to do and told my social worker they didn’t have time to keep going to the school about it, so my social worker came to the school to sort it out. ”
My brother’s expression looks grimmer by the second, so I hurry the story along.
“They made me sit outside the principal’s office so they could talk.
I don’t think they knew that I could hear them because they were talking about how my foster family had too many kids and how I was getting bullied because I wore thrift store clothing and was always tired.
The principal asked if I had other family who could take me in.
My social worker let it slip that I had an older brother, who’d also been in foster care but they were unable to locate him.
She said my brother’s name was Richard.”
He goes very still. “You were bullied?”
I nod, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“It got so bad that one of them tripped me on the playground and I ended up with a broken arm. After that, my foster parents decided to homeschool me for the rest of the year,” I pause.
“Well. They gave me the books and left me to it. I guess I was lucky I was smart as it didn’t take me long to catch up when I returned to school. ”
Rick’s head jerks to one side, and after a moment, I realize he’s counting to ten under his breath.
When he turns back around, he has better control of his emotions.
“I’m sorry you went through all that shit.
I had a rough time in foster care as well.
So why do you think I’m your brother? Ain’t no records of my mom having any more kids. ”
“Your last name is Mullins,” I point out politely. “And Rick is short for Richard.”
His expression slowly changes to something more open. “Both are very common names. What else did your social worker have to say?”
My face lights up. “After that, I used to quiz her about you every chance I got. She told me that while I was taken at birth, you went into the system when you were seven.”
He gives me a rueful look. “Other than the existence of a baby sister it does sound like what I remember.”