Chapter 7 #2
Finally, he seems to lose his fear entirely and pulls up close behind us. When I look in the rearview mirror, I recognize the face. “That’s him, Mr. Samson,” I say, the words leaving my mouth before I’ve fully processed them. “The man I told you about, the train operator.”
Bear’s jaw tightens. “He’s from your foster father’s church, right?”
“Yeah,” I continue, my heart pounding louder now. “He also plays golf with my foster father. He used to pat the kids on the head and call us God’s little helpers.”
Something about my words sets Bear off. He signals again, and then brakes hard, causing the truck to skid just enough to force the sedan to react in a last-minute attempt to keep from colliding with us.
The satisfied look on Bear’s face tells me that’s exactly what he intended.
The other driver ends up stalled out with the passenger side of his vehicle flush with the guardrail.
Bear throws the truck into reverse and blocks his escape without making contact with his vehicle. The move is very controlled.
Bear is out of the truck and stalking towards Mr. Samson before I can fully get my head around what just happened.
“Stay,” he growls as he walks away from the truck, crossing the pavement in long, quick strides. If I’m being honest, he looks terrifying when he’s angry. Mr. Samson hesitates, then opens his door slowly, his face pale as he straightens.
“I don’t want no trouble,” the man says quickly.
Bear stops a few feet away, close enough that his size becomes an undeniable factor in the exchange. “Then you picked the wrong way to spend your afternoon,” Bear grits out. “You wanna tell me why you’re followin’ us?”
Mr. Samson swallows, eyes darting past Bear to me. He raises his voice. “Natalie shouldn’t be here,” he says. “Her people are worried about her.”
Bear doesn’t move. “Those damn foster parents aren’t her fucking people. She got blood kin here who care about her.”
“Blood isn’t always thicker than water. In her case, the family that raised her wants her back in the fold. You’ve got no right to stand against that.”
Taking an intimidating step forward, Bear responds forcefully, “The hell I don’t. She’s of legal age. You don’t get to decide where she should be. That’s her decision alone.”
“I was just asked to check on her,” the man insists. “See if she was okay.”
“You followed us,” Bear replies evenly. “You asked questions about our routes. According to the law, that’s stalking. Are you a stalker, Mr. Samson? You also handy with a bit of breakin’ and enterin’? Think you’re an artist?”
The man’s mouth opens, then closes. He looks much less certain now than he did before. “They’re good people,” he says weakly. “They take in kids nobody else wants.”
“No, they aren’t. They exploit foster kids ten ways to Sunday and have gotten away with it far too long.”
Walking right up to the man they sent to force me back to them, Bear reaches into Samson’s back pocket and pulls out his wallet.
The older man sputters, “What are you going to do, rob me? I knew you were no good the minute I set eyes on you.”
Bear opens his wallet, takes a picture of his driver’s license, and slams the wallet against Samson’s chest. I’m trying to work out Bear’s plan when he drags Samson around to the back of his vehicle and takes a picture of his license plate.
Then he steps back and takes another picture.
It takes me a minute to realize he’s gotten a street sign in the frame.
I literally can’t fathom what Bear is doing until he drags the man back around to the passenger side of his car and explains.
“I should beat the shit out of you right here on the street for stalking an innocent young woman. But I’m not gonna.
Want to know why?” Before Samson can answer, Bear tells him.
“It’s because I don’t have to. I now know exactly where you live, what you drive, and have evidence that you were in Las Salinas stalking someone you had no business even approaching.
I can come for you anytime I want. Think about that next time you decide to get caught up with that manipulative asshole you call your minister. ”
By the time Bear is finished with him, the man is white as a ghost. Bear leans closer and states very clearly, “I’m letting you go because I want to send a message to the asshole who sent you here.
Tell him that I’ve already alerted CPS and the police that they are exploiting and abusing the foster kids in that home.
Explain to him that if he steps one more foot into Savage Legion territory, I will not be responsible for my actions. ”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“It’s a promise. Are you done pissing me off, or do I need to smack you around a bit to get your attention?”
Samson lifts his chin. “David is a god-fearing man. You’re just a thug. The difference between him and you is that he would never abuse another human being, much less the children under his care.”
“They took in kids to get the money,” I say, my voice steady despite the way my hands shake. “And they spent it on themselves.”
Bear glances back at me, surprise flickering briefly across his face before he shifts his stance just enough to block half of me from the man’s view. The gesture is automatic and born of a need to protect me.
I lean sideways to look at Mr. Samson. The man’s face is even whiter than before. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammers.
“I do, and deep down inside you do too. Why do you think they sent you here instead of coming themselves? They knew it was wrong to try and make me go back there and be their house slave. You’re gullible to believe they’re decent people, Mr. Samson.”
Bear steps closer, lowering his voice. “You’re gonna leave. You’re not gonna follow us again. You’re gonna deliver the message I sent and then stay away from here and stay away from Natalie.”
“And if I decide to stay for a spell?” Samson asks, trying to sound brave.
Bear’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Then we’ll be having another conversation at the Savage Legion clubhouse. Trust me when I say you’ll like it a hell of a lot less than this one. You might even end up staying with us permanently.”
The man goes ramrod straight and then scrambles to pull the driver’s side door open. “I’ll go. I swear. I don’t want any trouble with a bunch of savage bikers.”
Bear moves the truck and the sedan speeds away. We sit there and watch until it’s gone, then he turns back to me. His expression softens just enough to register concern. “Are you okay? I hope I didn’t scare you by playing bad cop.”
I’m too shocked to know what I’m feeling, but I answer him anyway. “I’m glad to hear that was all just a very convincing act. I didn’t think you would beat up an old man or murder him.”
Bear smothers back a smile. “I’ve been in this club for several years and haven’t killed a man yet. And I’m not lookin’ to do so anytime soon. But make no mistake, if I have to kill to protect the people I love, I won’t hesitate.”
That statement leaves me feeling conflicted.
I don’t want him to be forced to kill to protect me or anyone else.
But I guess the law does allow for defending yourself and others, so I have to accept that he’s smart enough to do something like that only as a last resort.
If I’m being honest, I might have killed to protect the kids in my care.
“Do you think this will be the end of it?”
“No,” Bear says as he pulls back onto the right side of the road and takes off. “This was their only warning. And I’m gonna take this to the club. We might end up paying your foster dad a little visit.”
***
We pull back onto club property, and I’m acutely aware of how visible the building is, how many eyes pass over it without really seeing.
Inside, Rick barrels towards us the second he spots me, relief and anger warring openly on his face. “You good?”
“Yes,” I answer, and this time there’s no hesitation. “We’re good.”
He looks at Bear, searching for confirmation. Bear gives a single nod. “For now.”
Rick exhales hard, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I hate this.”
Something inside me snaps. I open the door and slip out before my brother or Bear can stop me.
As I walk, they come up on either side, flanking me.
I walk down the sidewalk and around the building to the back patio.
When I find out no one is there, I start pacing.
If someone asked me what I was doing, I wouldn’t be able to say.
I have all this nervous energy churning inside me that I can’t seem to get out.
I feel like I could run circles around the building.
Bear says, “Go get Patch. She’s having a panic attack. It all my fuckin’ fault.”
My brother takes off running and Bear comes over and pulls me into his arms. The next thing I know, I’m sitting on his lap with my head tucked under his chin as he rubs my back and whispers soothing things in my ear.
I don’t know how long I sit there, but it’s long enough to decide there’s no place in the entire world I’d rather be than in Bear’s arms. I bury my face in his chest and breathe in the masculine scent of his body mixed with the leather from his cut.
My brother shows up with their club doctor in tow. He takes my vitals and asks, “This happened before?”
I turn my head enough to look into the man’s face. “I’m like this sometimes after a long, hard, stressful day. I never told anyone or went to see a doctor.”
“Well, I’m gonna send your old man some information on techniques you can use when you feel a panic attack building.”
“Oh, we’re not together,” I say quickly, feeling embarrassed.
”You’re practically crawling on his lap,” Rick mutters coming over to see what all the fuss was about.
I tune out when they start squabbling like teenagers again.
Suddenly, a pretty blonde, not much older than myself, offers me a bottled water and sits beside me. “You’re Natalie, right?” she says, holding out her hand for me to shake. Something about the kind smile resonates with me. I shake her hand and say, “Yes. I’m Rick’s sister.”
“I’m Beth, Patch’s old lady,” she tells me as she opens her water.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
She rolls her eyes as Patch drags Rick and Bear further away because they are getting louder. “So, are you Bear’s old lady or not?” she asks, waggling her eyebrows.
She seems friendly enough, unlike some of the club girls, so I reply honestly. “I’d like to move in that direction, but Bear’s got it into his head that I’m too young, and that he can’t date his friend’s sister.”
She snorts a laugh. “Patch said I was too young as well. All you have to do is hang around being your amazing self. It’s obvious he cares about you.”
“I wish it were that easy. Bear is the most stubborn man on the planet.”
When the two of them get into another scuffle, she asks, “It looks like they’re going to be at a while. Do you want to come inside and have a drink with me?”
That’s when I decide to take myself out of the pressure cooker and have some girl time.
The minute we sit down at the bar, she says, “Your brother is the problem. Don’t get me wrong, we love Rick, but he can’t seem to keep himself straight to save his ever-loving life.
” Then she launches into some long, drawn-out story about how my brother kept flirting with her while she was wearing Patch’s cut until he literally broke Rick’s nose by accident when he punched him in the face.
About that time, Rick comes strolling in with a black eye and bloody tissues hanging out of his nose.
I jump up and run to him. “Oh my God, did Bear do that to you?”
He turns to Beth and points at her as he talks. “If your old man doesn’t stop fucking punching me in the nose, I’m gonna stop talking to him entirely. He’s supposed to be our fucking club doctor, not breaking us.”
Beth’s eyebrows fly up. “Patch punched you in the face again? What did you say this time?”
“Nothing that wasn’t true,” he responds with conviction.
I gesture towards the stairs. “Go grab a shower, bro. You’re covered in blood. We might need to take you to a doc-in-a-box or something.”
Rick opens his mouth, but Beth cuts him off. “Don’t start talking about Patch not fixing your face again. You know his rule. If he had to mess your face up, he’s not gonna fix it.”
I press my lips together to keep from smiling because that’s a weirdly effective way to keep someone from being an ass. We watch my brother wander off and Beth orders me another drink. All in all, the night is not ending badly.
I’ve rarely drink alcohol, but I’m three drinks in by the time Bear and Patch return. He throws Beth an annoyed look when he sees the empty glasses in front of me.
Bear reaches over and gently slips the drink out of my hand. “I think you’ve had enough for one night, Nat.”
When he leans on the bar and smiles at me, I loop my arm around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. He doesn’t resist, and I enjoy every minute of it. When I pull back, he’s still smiling.
“You know that you’re going to be all kinds of embarrassed about kissing a giant fucker like me when you sober up.”
I make a grab for the drink he took from me and set further away. His reflexes are quicker than mine. When I growl at him, he laughs.
“Come on, darlin’. Let’s put you to bed.”
When I stand and almost topple over because my ankles get caught on the legs of the bar stool, Bear picks me up, tosses me over one shoulder, and carries me upstairs. It’s not the romantic experience I always thought it would be. It’s making me want to throw up all the alcohol I just drank.
I think I might have passed out because the next thing I know, I’m tucked into my bed still fully clothed, with Bear pulling up the blankets. I reach out and cup his cheek in my hand. “You’re a really handsome man. You know that, right?”
His happy smile falters for an instant and he pulls my hand away but doesn’t let it go. “Everyone looks amazing to you when you’ve been drinking.”
“I like it when you call me darlin’. It makes me feel special.”
He leans over and kisses my forehead, murmuring, “Go to sleep, you’re drunk.”
The next thing I know, the door to my bedroom is closing, and I’m sad because I’m being myself just like Beth said, but he still doesn’t want me.