Chapter 14 Rook #2
“Heard about your kid’s school,” he says finally, voice like gravel under a truck tire. “Bring ’em here. We can lock the place down tighter than Fort Knox. They’ll be safe.”
I let out a short, humorless chuckle and drag a hand over my jaw. “Yeah? You ever tried convincing Calla to hole up anywhere she doesn’t choose herself?”
Ridge smirks. “Point taken. She always did have a mind like barbed wire.”
Boar folds his arms, a rare grin sliding across his face. “Good to see you happy again, brother. And with her, no less.”
Ridge nods in agreement, eyes warm in a way you don’t often see from him.
“We all knew that girl back when she was just a kid running around town. Then, when she fell for your dumbass and followed you like a little lost puppy. Smart as hell, heart bigger than this clubhouse. We loved her then; we love her now. Fits right in, whether she ever wanted to or not.”
The words settle deep, heavier than I expect. I glance toward the treeline, thinking of Calla’s stubborn smile, of Beau waving from the school steps.
“Yeah,” I say, a slow grin breaking through despite everything. “She’s always been ours. Just took me a while to figure it out.”
The afternoon sun hangs low and hot when I cut the engine and wait on the shoulder outside the prison gates.
Gravel crunches under passing cars, but I barely hear it.
All I see is the gate. The minute Calla’s truck noses out onto the main road, my pulse evens.
She spots me, a quick flash of a smile through the windshield, and the weight of the day slides a little lighter.
I drop the kickstand and fall in beside her as she slows. We ride in loose formation—her truck leading, my Harley a steady shadow—until the school comes into view, the late light spilling gold across the playground.
She parks first. I roll in next to her, kill the engine, and swing off the bike in one motion.
Before she can even step down from the cab, I reach for her.
Calla lands against me with a soft laugh, the smell of warm sun and engine grease wrapping around us.
I pull her in tight, the kind of kiss that says more than words can carry—relief, claim, promise all at once.
For a heartbeat, the noise of the lot disappears. Just her smile, her heartbeat against mine, and the low rumble of my bike cooling in the October air.
Calla’s palm slides into mine as we cross the lot toward the school doors, her truck keys jingling against my knuckles. The late-afternoon sun paints everything in long amber stripes, but she still smells faintly of the prison—disinfectant and the sharp tang of metal.
“Long day?” I ask.
She lets out a quiet breath. “You have no idea. Intake was a nightmare, and one of the blocks went into lockdown for an hour. Paperwork mountain the size of Mount Washington.”
“Anyone give you trouble?” I keep my voice easy, but my grip tightens.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” She tilts a grin up at me. “Though watching you shadow me on that bike this morning definitely had the guards talking.”
I chuckle. “Good. Maybe it’ll keep them on their toes.”
She bumps my shoulder with hers. “You know you didn’t have to wait out there.”
“Yeah, I did,” I say, simple as that. “After the car at the school? I’m not letting you walk out of that place without me in sight.”
Calla’s eyes soften, the tired lines at the corners easing. “Overprotective biker,” she teases, but she squeezes my hand tighter.
“Guilty,” I admit, steering her toward the main doors just as the dismissal bell rings and the sound of kids floods the hallway. “Now let’s get our boy before he tries to sneak that fox into after-school again.”
The dismissal bell shrieks, and a wave of little voices spills out of the building. I spot Beau’s wild hair before anything else—fox clutched tight, backpack half unzipped as he barrels through the door.
“Mama! Dad!” He skids to a stop just shy of my boots and bounces in place, eyes bright. “I showed the rainbow dinosaur again! Everyone loved it!”
I scoop him up, his weight settling easily on my hip. “Knew they would, champ.”
Over his shoulder, I catch a ripple of quiet giggles. A cluster of younger teachers by the door are doing a not-so-subtle double take, eyes flicking from my kutte to the ink on my arms. One nudges another, and they both look away too late.
Calla notices and laughs, shaking her head. “You’re a distraction,” she murmurs, amusement dancing in her eyes.
I lean in and press a slow kiss to her cheek, the scent of her shampoo cutting through the late-day chalk dust. “Can’t help it,” I whisper.
Beau wiggles between us, grinning. “Can we get ice cream?”
Calla laughs again, sunlight catching in her damp hair as she shifts Beau’s fox to her other arm. “We’ll see, buddy. Let’s just get to the truck first.”
I slide an arm around her waist as we head for the parking lot, her warm smile lingering against the spot where I kissed her.
By the time we pull into the driveway, the sun’s tipping toward the trees, casting the cabin in warm gold. Beau launches out of the back seat the second the door opens, fox in one hand, backpack in the other.
“Snack time!” he yells, racing for the kitchen.
Calla laughs, shaking her head. “Wash your hands first,” she calls after him, but he’s already digging in the fridge.
I follow her inside, the smell of pine and wood smoke greeting us.
Beau clambers onto a chair at the kitchen table, happily demolishing an apple and a handful of crackers, narrating every bite.
I catch Calla’s hand and give it a gentle tug, pulling her toward the short hall that leads to the bedroom.
She raises a brow but lets me steer her out of earshot.
“What’s going on?” she whispers.
I keep my voice low. “Talked to Ridge today. He heard about the car at the school. Says you and Beau should stay at the clubhouse for a while—lock it down, more eyes, more security.”
Her mouth parts in surprise, but I squeeze her fingers before she can answer. “I told him I’d talk to you,” I add. “Your call. But Ridge is right—it’s safer there until we know what the Scorpions are planning.”
The distant crunch of Beau’s snack echoes down the hallway, a reminder of exactly why I’m asking. Calla’s eyes drift down as I’m talking, and she catches my hands in hers.
Her fingers still for a second. “Rook… why are your knuckles like this?”
The skin is raw and split, with a thin smear of dried blood along my thumb. I hadn’t even noticed the sting until she pointed it out.
I give her a half-smile, more a smirk than anything. “Don’t worry about it.” When she starts to protest, I squeeze her hand. “Handled something that needed handling. That’s all.”
She studies me for a long moment, worry flickering behind her eyes. “You fought someone.”
“Prospect mouthed off. Boar supervised.” I shrug like it's nothing. “End of story.”
The silence stretches, then she exhales and shakes her head, thumb brushing gently across the split skin.
I tilt my head, meeting her gaze. “So… yes?”
She blinks. “Yes?”
“Come stay in my room at the clubhouse again.” My voice softens. “Ridge is right—it’s safer there. I’ll set up a bed for Beau. Whole crew will watch your backs.”
Calla bites her lip, glancing toward the kitchen where Beau is still happily crunching crackers and singing to his fox. When her eyes come back to mine, I can see the answer forming.
I run my thumb over the back of her hand, a quiet promise. “Just say the word and I’ll make it happen tonight.”
Calla still hesitates, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where Beau hums to himself. “Rook… I don’t know. Moving us, even for a night—it’s a lot.”
I step in close until the scent of her shampoo cuts through the wood smoke of the cabin. My hands find her waist, thumbs tracing slow circles just above her hips.
“Calla,” I murmur, letting her name vibrate low in my chest. “It’s just one night. A safer place, doors locked, brothers on watch. You and Beau, under my roof.”
She starts to protest, but I dip my head and press my lips to the spot just beneath her ear—a slow drag of warmth that makes her breath catch.
“You trust me to keep you safe, don’t you?” My voice is a whisper against her skin.
Her fingers clutch the front of my shirt, knuckles whitening. “You know I do.”
I trail a soft kiss along her jaw, stopping just shy of her mouth. “Then let me do it. Let me take care of you… both of you.”
Her eyes flutter shut, the tension in her shoulders melting beneath my palms. I brush my lips across hers—light, teasing, a question she can answer or refuse.
She exhales a shaky breath, voice barely audible. “Okay.”
I rest my forehead against hers, a slow smile tugging at my mouth. “Good,” I whisper. “We’ll be gone before Beau even knows it’s a move. Just a night. Just us. Safe.”
Calla and I walk back into the kitchen, still holding hands. Beau looks up from his plate, crumbs of crackers scattered like confetti.
“Hey champ,” I say, crouching beside him. “Change of plans tonight. We’re gonna have a sleepover at the clubhouse. Big movie room, pool tables, and brothers to tell you wild stories. You in?”
Beau’s eyes go wide. “For real? Can I bring Fox?”
“Fox gets his own VIP seat,” I tell him, grinning.
Calla smooths his hair, her smile soft but sure. “Just for a night or two, buddy. We’ll all stay together.”
He’s already bouncing in his chair. “I gotta pack! PJs and the dinosaur picture!”
“That’s the spirit,” I say, scooping up his empty plate. “Grab your favorite things and we’ll hit the road.”
Beau darts off toward his room, chattering about which stuffed animals need to come along. The sound of his excitement fills the cabin, easing the knot in my chest.
Calla meets my eyes over the kitchen table. “You really think it’s the best move?”
“I do,” I answer, steady. “And we’ll be right there with him the whole time.”
She nods, a quiet resolve settling in. Within minutes, we’re packed—backpacks for Beau, a duffel for Calla, my gear slung over a shoulder. I lock the door behind us, the weight of the key heavy in my palm.
Beau bounces down the steps, fox under one arm, grinning like this is the start of a grand adventure. Calla takes his other hand, and I fall in beside them.
The night air smells of pine and wood smoke as we head toward the truck and the waiting bike. Whatever the Scorpions think they’ve started, they won’t find us unprepared.
Time to bring my family under the Bastards’ roof—safe, together, and ready for whatever comes next.