Chapter 5 - Echo
My legs are starting to go numb, but I don't move. Don't want to disturb this fragile peace we've found.
Hannah's leaned her head back against the mattress, eyes closed. She looks exhausted. Dark circles under her eyes. Lines around her mouth that weren't there when we were kids. She's only thirty-four but right now she looks older.
Being a single mother to a sick baby will do that.
My son. The thought still feels surreal. Eight months of his life I missed completely. First smile, first laugh, first time he rolled over, all of it happened without me. And now I'm sitting here trying to figure out how to make up for lost time when I don't even know how to be a father.
"You hungry?" I ask.
She opens her eyes and looks at me. "What?"
"Food. Breakfast. You've been here since what, six this morning? You must be hungry."
"I don't want to leave Theo alone."
"He won't be alone. The women will watch him. He'll be safe, I promise you."
Hannah bites her lip, looking up at Theo sleeping peacefully. "I haven't left him alone since he was born. Not once. I didn’t even have a babysitter. I had to take him with me and was lucky enough that my bosses didn’t mind."
"You've been doing this completely by yourself for eight months?"
"I didn't have a choice."
The casual way she says it, like drowning alone was just another Tuesday, makes something tighten in my chest. She should have had help. Should have had me. Would have had me if she'd just told me.
But I can't change the past. I can only deal with what's in front of me now.
"There's a diner in town," I say. "Opens early. Makes decent coffee and better pancakes. We could get breakfast. Talk without worrying about waking him up. Be back before he even knows you're gone."
"Wesley—"
"Do you trust me?" I ask.
She meets my eyes. Takes a long moment before answering. "I don't trust anyone."
"Fair enough. Different question: Do you trust me to keep Theo safe?"
Another pause. Then, slowly: "Yes."
"Then trust that the people I trust with my life will take care of him for an hour. Nora and Eden between them have more childcare experience than most pediatricians. And if something happens, which it won't, we're ten minutes away."
She chews on her lip some more. Looking at Theo. Looking at me. Weighing options the way people who grew up with nothing learn to weigh everything.
"Okay," she says. "But only if someone actually stays with him the entire time. Not just checks on him. Actually sits in this room and watches him."
"Done."
"And I want something in exchange."
I raise an eyebrow. "What?"
"The whole story. How you joined the club. Everything you haven't told me about this life." Her hazel eyes are steady on mine. "If I'm staying here, if Theo's going to be around these people, I need to know what I'm getting into. All of it."
That's fair. More than fair. She's trusting me with her son, our son. She deserves to know what kind of world she's walking into.
"Okay," I agree. "The whole story. But you have to eat something while I tell it. You look like you haven't had a decent meal in weeks."
"Months," she corrects.
Yeah. That tracks.
I stand up, knees protesting slightly from sitting on the floor for an hour. Offer Hannah my hand. She takes it and I pull her to her feet. She sways slightly, exhaustion and probably low blood sugar catching up.
I steady her with a hand on her elbow. "When's the last time you ate?"
"Yesterday. Maybe. I don't remember."
Christ.
"Definitely getting breakfast then. Come on."
I lead her out of the room, leaving the door cracked so we can hear if Theo wakes up.
Downstairs, the clubhouse is more active than before.
Canvas and Eden are back from their shopping trip, bags covering every available surface.
Ivy and Rosie are sorting through baby supplies, making piles.
Judge sits at the bar with Phoenix, both of them drinking coffee and talking in low voices.
Everyone looks up when we appear on the stairs.
"Theo still sleeping?" Ivy asks.
"Yeah," Hannah says. "But I was wondering... Wesley wants to take me to breakfast. Would someone be willing to sit with him while we're gone? Not just check on him. Actually stay in the room?"
Nora stands immediately. "I'll do it. Grace and I were just about to head upstairs anyway. She wants to show me a new sign she learned."
Grace tugs on her mother's hand and signs something. Nora smiles. "She says she'll protect the baby with her life."
"Thank you. Really. I haven't left him alone since he was born."
"Then you definitely need a break," Eden says firmly. She's in full nurse mode now. "Go eat. Get some air. We've got this handled."
Nora and Grace head upstairs. Hannah watches them go with an expression that's equal parts grateful and terrified. I put my hand on the small of her back, just light pressure, grounding her.
"He'll be fine," I tell her.
She nods but doesn't look convinced.
Phoenix catches my eye and jerks his head toward the door. I nod slightly. He understands. I'm taking Hannah out, will be back within the hour, call if anything happens.
Hannah follows me outside into the early morning sun. The air is cool and fresh, the kind of perfect late spring morning that makes everything feel possible.
My bike sits in the lineup with the others. Hannah stops walking when she sees it.
"We're taking that?"
"Unless you want to walk five miles."
"I've never been on a motorcycle before."
"Nothing to it. You hold on to me and let me handle the rest."
She looks skeptical but climbs on behind me when I straddle the bike. I can feel her hesitation in the way she barely touches my waist. Like she's afraid of holding on too tight. Afraid of needing something.
"You're going to want to hold tighter than that," I tell her. "Especially when we turn."
Her arms tighten around my waist. Better. I start the engine and feel her entire body go tense against my back.
"Relax," I say over my shoulder. "I'm not going to let you fall."
"That's what everyone says right before someone falls."
Despite everything, I smile. That's the Hannah I remember, defensive and prepared for the worst.
I pull out of the lot slowly, giving her time to adjust to the movement. By the time we hit Main Street, she's relaxed slightly against me. By the time we reach the burger place on the edge of town, her grip has loosened from panic to something closer to trust.
I park and kill the engine. Hannah climbs off, legs slightly shaky.
"That was terrifying," she announces.
"You did fine."
"I thought I was going to die like seventeen times."
"I've been riding for fifteen years. Haven't died yet."
"There's always a first time."
I shake my head and lead her into Mac’s Grill.
It's one of those classic American diners: red vinyl booths, checkered floors, a counter with spinning stools.
The smell of coffee and bacon hits immediately, making my stomach growl despite the adrenaline still coursing through my system from the raid.
The waitress is a woman named Claire—mid-forties, sharp eyes, been working here since Mac opened the place years ago. She sees my cut and nods a greeting.
"Usual spot, Echo?"
I nod. She gestures to a booth in the back corner, the one with a clear view of the entrance and exits. Old habits from my time on the streets before the club. Always know where the exits are. Always position yourself so nobody can sneak up behind you.
Hannah slides into the booth across from me. Claire brings coffee without being asked. Hannah wraps her hands around the mug like she's trying to absorb its warmth.
"You come here a lot?" she asks.
"Few times a week. Food's good."
Claire drops off menus and disappears. Hannah doesn't even look at hers. Just keeps holding that coffee mug like it's the only thing keeping her grounded.
"Order whatever you want," I tell her. "It's on me."
"Wesley—"
"Hannah. Order food. Argue about who pays later."
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens the menu and scans it quickly. Claire comes back and Hannah orders pancakes, eggs, bacon, hash browns, basically half the menu. Good. She needs it.
I order my usual. Claire takes the menus and leaves us alone. The place is mostly empty at this hour. A few truckers at the counter. An elderly couple in a booth by the window. Nobody paying attention to us.
Hannah takes a long drink of coffee and sets the mug down.
"Okay," she says. "The whole story. How you ended up here. Don't leave anything out."
I lean back against the booth. Think about where to start.
"You remember when I aged out of Sacred Heart?"
“Yeah. They gave you a duffel bag and fifty dollars and told you good luck."
"Right. I didn't have anywhere to go. No family. No friends who weren't still in the system. Spent the first six months bouncing between shelters and cheap motels. Picked up work where I could, you know? Construction, warehouse jobs, anything that paid under the table."
Hannah nods. She knows this story. It's the same story every kid who ages out of the system has. Different details, same ending.
"I was nineteen when I met this guy named David. He was ex-military. Saw me getting into a fight with these guys who tried to rob me outside a liquor store. Stepped in. Helped me take them down."
"And?"
"And he bought me dinner afterward. Asked me what my plans were. I told him I didn't have any. He said he had a friend who ran a security company, always looking for people who could handle themselves in a fight. Got me an interview."
Claire brings our food. Hannah immediately starts eating like she's starving. Which she probably is.
I continue while we eat. "Security work led to private investigation work. Investigation work led to surveillance. Turned out I was good at it. Watching people. Seeing patterns. Staying invisible. Made decent money for a few years."
"How'd you end up in Millhaven?"