Chapter Four
Riley
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Oh, I just need to know where I can find the diapers,” I smile at the kind woman.
“Isle five,” she answers.
I thank her before heading that way. I’m so exhausted. I haven’t slept more than ten minutes at a time in the past two days.
But I’ll have to be more careful. I was almost found this morning because I fell asleep on a park bench. Someone saw me and called the police. Luckily, I was able to leave before anyone could arrive.
I’ve already decided to try the biker club one more time. I understand if they don’t want to get messed up in my drama, but maybe they can point me to someone who will. Or, at the very least, point me in the direction of a safe place to sleep.
I just need a few hours, and I’ll be good to go. My brain is too fuzzy to stay alert, and that puts my son’s life at risk. I’m just so grateful that the weather has been warm enough that being outside isn’t a danger.
If nothing else, I’ll go to the library. There’s a corner section where people go to read. Maybe if I’m holding a book, they will think I just fell asleep reading.
Taking a deep breath, I walk forward, pretending to have all the courage in the world when, in reality, I have less than the cowardly lion. Purchasing the diapers and wipes, I place them in the diaper bag on my back and head towards the Iron Shadow’s compound.
It takes thirty minutes to walk there, and by the time I reach their security gate, I’m about to keel over.
“Think you’re in the wrong place, little lady.”
I glance through the small window to where a single male smirks down at me.
“I need to speak to someone, please,” I say.
“I’m someone,” he says, his eyes filled with heat.
Gross.
The man looks like he kicks puppies for fun.
“I need to talk to someone in charge, please,” I try again.
“He won’t waste time on you,” he laughs. “But, I’d be willing to help you out if you’re willing to pay me back on your knees.”
If I could reach through the glass, I’d throat-punch this man. But I don’t want to risk my baby getting hurt.
Feeling defeated, I try not to cry as I turn and walk away.
“Fucking bitch,” he yells.
But I don’t care.
I’m too tired and in too much pain to care about anything anymore. Especially not this man’s insults, his leering, or the fact that I just wasted what little energy I had left walking all the way here. All I care about is finding a safe place for my son. Just a few hours. That’s all I need.
When I had Asher via c-section, they placed a waterproof bandage of some sort over the incision, but it still hurts like crazy, and I don’t think I have any more pain pills.
Tears sting my eyes, but I keep walking, my shoulders slumping under the weight of the diaper bag. The sharp bite of the man’s laughter follows me, cutting through my chest like shards of glass.
Maybe I should go to the library after all. Or perhaps just... sit on another bench somewhere and pretend to read. The thought is pathetic, but desperation doesn’t leave room for pride.
“Hey!”
The shout is rough and deep, a stark contrast to the sneering tone of the man at the gate. I freeze, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. Slowly, I glance over my shoulder. A tall figure strides toward the gate from inside the compound.
Dark hair, a clean-cut beard, tanned skin. Broad shoulders and a body that looks like it spends more time lifting weights than resting. He’s in jeans and a black shirt, his leather vest heavy with patches I can’t quite make out from this distance.
Ruggedly handsome. Undeniably intimidating. And judging by the hard set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes…Furious.
“What the hell did you just say to her?” the man growls, and I realize he’s speaking to the guy in the booth.
The smirking asshole stumbles over his words, suddenly all sheepish and nervous. “Nothing, Spike. She was, uh, she was leaving anyway.”
“I’m not fucking blind.” The man, Spike, steps closer, and the puppy kicker’s face drains of color. “You think I don’t know what kind of shit comes out of your mouth when you think no one’s watching?”
Spike doesn’t wait for an answer. He turns his full attention to me, his dark eyes scanning me with an intensity that makes me feel even smaller than I already do.
“You okay?” he asks, his tone softer now but no less commanding.
I nod, clutching the carrier tighter against my chest. “I just... I just needed to talk to someone in charge.” My voice cracks on the last word, and I hate how weak it sounds.
“You’re talking to him.” His gaze sharpens, and I feel like he’s trying to figure me out with just a single glance. “What’s your name?”
“Riley.”
“And what do you need, Riley?”
My throat tightens, and I have to swallow hard before I can answer. “A safe place to sleep. Just for a few hours. I…I have a baby, a newborn, and we’ve been on the run. I understand if you can’t help, but... I didn’t know where else to go.”
His expression hardens, and for a second, I think he’s going to tell me to get lost. Instead, he enters a code and opens the gate, his voice gruff but steady. “Come on in.”
I hesitate, glancing back toward the leering man in the booth.
Spike follows my gaze and scowls. “Don’t worry about him. He won’t be a problem again.”
Something in the way he says it makes me believe him, and for the first time in what feels like years, I take a shaky breath.
I step through the gate, clutching my baby like a lifeline, and follow Spike toward the largest building inside the compound, praying that I’ve made the right choice.
***Spike***
“That’s the same woman from yesterday,” Tank says, nodding toward the gate where a figure approaches.
“What’s that she’s holding?” I ask, squinting as I study her.
“I can’t say for sure, but yesterday, I thought it was a baby.”
“A baby?” My glare sharpens. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I thought I took care of it,” Tank shrugs, unfazed. “It’s my job to handle the little things around here. You’ve got so much shit on your shoulders as it is. You don’t need some woman’s issues. She looked scared, sure, but I told her that if she needed help, the best place for her would be the police station.”
“Not sure she took your advice, brother,” I mutter, rising to my feet. “Come on, let’s go see what she wants.”
As we approach the gate, I hear Pinkie’s grating voice, loud and slimy as always.
“He won’t waste time on you. But I’d be willing to help you out if you’re willing to pay me back on your knees.”
I freeze in my tracks, my fists clenching instinctively. Pinkie has been on my last fucking nerve for the past two months. He’s prospecting to become a member, but with shit like this, he’s not going to make it.
“Fucking bitch,” Pinkie shouts when the woman turns to leave.
Actually, I might kill him for sport.
“Hey,” I call out, my voice carrying enough weight to make the woman pause mid-step.
When I reach the gate, I glance back at Pinkie. His smirk falters, and fear fills his eyes.
“What the hell did you just say to her?” I growl, directing all my anger at him.
Pinkie stumbles over his words like the coward he is. “Nothing, Spike. She was, uh, she was leaving anyway.”
“I’m not fucking blind.” I step closer, towering over him even as he sits in the security booth and the color drains from his face. “You think I don’t know what kind of shit comes out of your mouth when you think no one’s watching?”
Pinkie stammers something, but I’ve already turned my attention to the woman. She looks exhausted, clutching the carrier against her chest like her life depends on it. Dark circles shadow her eyes, and she stands there with the kind of defiance that only comes from sheer desperation.
“You okay?” I ask, keeping my voice steady.
She nods, though her grip on the carrier tightens. “I just... I just needed to talk to someone in charge.” Her voice cracks on the last word, and it’s like a punch to the gut.
“You’re talking to him,” I reply, studying her. She’s nervous but not fidgeting. Alert but not aggressive. She’s running from something, and whatever it is has her scared out of her mind. “What’s your name?”
“Riley,” she whispers.
“And what do you need, Riley?”
Her throat works as she swallows, and it takes her a moment to answer. “A safe place to sleep. Just for a few hours. I... I have a baby, a newborn, and we’ve been on the run. I understand if you can’t help, but... I didn’t know where else to go.”
Her words hit me like a freight train. A baby. Running. No one comes to the Iron Shadows lightly, and from the look of her, she’s already been through hell.
My expression hardens as I weigh the risks. Bringing her inside could invite trouble, but turning her away... That’s not happening.
“Come on in,” I say, punching in the code to open the gate. My voice is gruff, but I keep it steady.
She hesitates, glancing toward Pinkie like she expects him to stop her.
I follow her gaze and scowl. “Don’t worry about him. He won’t be a problem again.”
The relief on her face is subtle, just a flicker, but enough to make me feel like I’ve made the right call. She steps through the gate, her grip on the baby carrier still tight. I motion for Tank to follow as we lead her toward the compound.
“Tank, have someone set up a room for our guest,” I mutter under my breath. “She’s gonna sleep, then we’ll have a talk with her about what’s scaring her bad enough to ask for help from the fucking monsters.”
Tank nods, already pulling out his phone to send a message.
“And send Max to my office,” I add before he gets too far. “He needs to deal with Pinkie before I do.”
Max is my Prospect Leader. It’s his job to weed out idiots like Pinkie before they become a problem. I don’t know what the hell he was thinking letting that little shit in, but if he doesn’t fix it, I will, and it won’t be pretty.
Turning back to the woman, Riley, I gesture toward the main building. Our clubhouse. She looks like she’s running on fumes, and I’m not sure how much longer she’s gonna hold up.
“This way,” I say, keeping my voice steady as I lead her inside and through the main rooms until we reach my office.
Once inside, I gesture to the couch in the corner. I don’t use it much for sitting, but it’s damn good for the nights I crash here instead of going home.
“Have a seat, Riley,” I tell her, grabbing a bottle of water from the small fridge in the corner. I make sure it’s sealed before handing it to her. Don’t need to add fear of being drugged to her shoulders. “I have someone getting a room ready for you. It shouldn’t be long.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice so soft I almost miss it. She opens the bottle and takes a cautious sip. “I can offer a little bit of money for your generosity, but I’m afraid it’s not much.”
“Don’t want your money, babe,” I say, leaning back against the desk. “You do realize who we are, right?”
“The Iron Shadows,” she nods, her voice steady now. “Yes, I know.”
“We’re not good people,” I admit, watching her carefully for a reaction. “We have a bad reputation.”
“I’m aware,” she says with a small smile that catches me off guard. “Which is why I asked for your help. I’m hoping you’re scary enough to keep the monsters away long enough for me to get some sleep.”
I bark out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Babe, we are the monsters.”
“Nah,” she chuckles softly, and the sound is so unexpected it makes me pause. “I’ve seen monsters. I’ve lived with them. You and your friends may not do things legally; you may even kill people, but you’re nowhere near the monsters I know.”
Her arms tighten around the baby carrier, pulling it closer to her chest. The slight tremor in her hands doesn’t escape my notice, nor does the way her entire body seems to shiver at whatever memory is clawing its way to the surface.
“Trust me on that,” she adds quietly, her eyes downcast now.
I don’t reply right away. She’s got a story. Something dark enough to bring her to our doorstep, clutching a baby and looking for sanctuary. Whatever it is, I’ll get it out of her. But not now. For now, I give her what she needs: space and time to breathe.
“You need to rest,” I say, my tone softening. “We can talk about what has you running when you wake up.”
She nods, her grip on the carrier never loosening, her knuckles white with tension. It’s a hell of a thing to watch, someone so fragile carrying so much weight. I step out of the room, giving her the privacy she clearly needs to gather herself.
“Room’s ready, Prez,” Tank says, appearing around the corner a few minutes later.
I nod in acknowledgment and head back into my office, ready to let Riley know she has a place to crash. But the words freeze in my throat when I see her.
She’s slouched against the arm of the couch, her head tilted awkwardly to the side, fast asleep. The baby carrier strapped to her chest keeps the infant snug and secure, but the tension in her hands as they grip the straps hasn’t eased, even in sleep.
Tank steps in behind me, his voice low and sharp. “Either she has no situational awareness, or she thinks she’s safe.” He pauses, then adds, “Not sure which one is worse.”
I glance back at him, my jaw tightening. “She is safe,” I say, my voice cold and edged with steel. I look toward the doorway, where a couple of guys are lingering. Nosy fuckers. “And if any of you so much as breathe wrong around her, you’ll answer to me. Then to Bones.”
The weight of my words makes the air in the room grow heavy, even catching me off guard with how fiercely they come out. Tank raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t comment. The guys outside quickly find something else to do.
“Really?” Tank mutters under his breath, smirking. “You had to bring up Bones? People are terrified of that bastard.”
I ignore him and crouch next to Riley, frowning at the awkward angle of her neck. “You think we should take the kid out of the carrier?”
Tank crosses his arms, studying them both. “Hell if I know. Doesn’t seem right to mess with them, though. She’s got the baby in there tight, and the kid doesn’t seem uncomfortable.”
“Agreed,” I say. “We’ll leave them be and keep watch. If anything seems off, we’ll figure it out.”
I grab a pillow from the other end of the couch, carefully lifting her head just enough to slide it underneath. Her head rolls slightly, but she doesn’t wake. Her breathing stays steady, the kind of deep exhaustion that comes from running on nothing but adrenaline for too long.
Standing, I pull a blanket off the back of the couch and drape it over her and the baby carrier. The blanket pools around her shoulders, and she shifts slightly, murmuring something I can’t make out before settling again.
“She’s out,” Tank says, his voice softer now as he leans against the doorway.
“Yeah,” I mutter, stepping back to take another look. “Let her sleep. Whatever’s chasing her, it’s not touching her while she’s here.”
Tank nods, but his gaze lingers on Riley for a moment longer. “Guess that means you’re not gonna let her just walk out tomorrow either, huh?”
I glance at her one last time, the weight of her presence settling in my chest like a challenge I didn’t ask for but can’t walk away from. “Not a chance.”
This woman and her child just added more weight to my already buckling shoulders, but I’m strong enough to carry them both.
Shaking my head, I walk out and close the door, making sure to lock it so no one can get in. Riley will be able to unlock it from the inside, and Tank and I are the only ones with keys.
She’s safe.
They’re both safe.
I’m not gonna unpack why that matters to me.
But it does.