Chapter 1 #2
Owen's screams reach a fever pitch and I glance back at him, my chest tightening. He's so red. So upset. And I can't do anything to help him.
"Look," the green-eyed one says, his tone softening. "I'm Jax. This is my brother, Knox. We're not going to hurt you or your kid. But you can't stay out here. It's not safe."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine." Knox's voice is flat, matter-of-fact. "Your car's dead. You've got a baby. And it's going to be dark soon."
I hate that he's right. I hate that I'm in this position. I hate that I have to rely on strangers because I have no other choice.
"What do you want?" I ask, my voice breaking.
Jax's expression softens. "We want to help. That's it."
I don't believe him. I can't afford to believe him. But I also can't afford to stay here.
Knox pulls out a phone and makes a call. "Yeah, it's Knox. We've got a situation on Highway 94, about ten miles out. Car broke down. We need a tow." He pauses, listening. "Yeah. And call Lucy and Tessa. Tell them to bring the truck."
He hangs up and looks at me. "Tow truck's on the way. So are a couple of friends. Women," he adds, like that's supposed to make me feel better.
"I don't have money for a tow," I say quietly.
"Don't worry about it," Jax says. "It's covered."
"I don't take charity."
"It's not charity. It's help. There's a difference."
I want to argue. I want to tell them to fuck off and leave me alone. But Owen is still screaming and I'm so tired and I don't know what else to do.
So I lower the tire iron.
"Okay," I whisper. "Okay."
The tow truck arrives first. A grizzled older man with a gray beard and a Jackson Towing patch on his shirt hooks up my car without a word. He doesn't ask questions. Doesn't even look at me. Just does his job and leaves.
Then a pickup truck pulls up. Two women get out.
The first one is tiny, maybe five feet tall if she's lucky, with wild blonde hair and a manic energy that makes me think of a caffeinated chihuahua. She's wearing ripped jeans and a tank top that says Chaos Coordinator across the chest.
The second one is younger, softer. She's got dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and kind eyes. She's wearing scrubs.
"Oh my God," the tiny one says, rushing over to me. "Are you okay? Is the baby okay?"
I take a step back, clutching Owen tighter. "We're fine."
"You don't look fine," she says bluntly. Then she turns to Jax. "What the hell, Jax? You didn't tell us she was beat to shit."
"Tessa," the other woman says sharply. "Not helping."
Tessa, apparently that's her name, rolls her eyes but softens her tone. "Sorry. I just mean… you look like you've been through hell. Let us help."
The other woman steps forward, her hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. "I'm Lucy. I'm a nurse. Can I take a look at you? And the baby?"
I shake my head. "We're fine."
"Honey, you're not fine." Lucy's voice is gentle but firm. "And your baby is overheated. When's the last time he ate?"
I don't answer. I can't. Because if I open my mouth, I'm going to cry.
Lucy seems to understand. She nods and turns to Tessa. "Get the diaper bag. And grab some water from the cooler."
Tessa moves fast, grabbing my diaper bag from the backseat of my car and pulling out a bottle of water from the truck. She hands it to me.
"Drink," she orders.
I do. The water is cold and it feels like heaven going down my throat.
Lucy gently takes Owen from my arms. I want to protest, but I'm too exhausted. She checks him over quickly, efficiently, and then mixes a bottle of formula from the supplies in the diaper bag.
"He's okay," she says, feeding him. "Just hot and hungry. Poor little guy."
I watch her, my chest tight. She's so gentle with him. So careful. And Owen… Owen stops crying. He latches onto the bottle and drinks like he's been starving.
"What's his name?" Lucy asks.
"Owen," I whisper.
"He's beautiful."
I nod. I can't speak.
Tessa steps closer, her expression serious now. "Look, I don't know what you're running from, but you can't stay out here. It's not safe. Come back to Perdition with us. We've got a place you can stay. Food. A bed. Whatever you need."
"I don't—"
"You don't have to decide right now," Jax says, his voice low. "But you need to get off this highway. Let us help. Just for tonight."
I look at him. At Knox. At Lucy and Tessa. At Owen, who's finally calm in Lucy's arms.
I don't trust them. I don't trust anyone.
But I don't have a choice.
"Okay," I say quietly. "Just for tonight."
Tessa grins. "Good. Let's get the hell out of here."
I ride in the truck with Lucy and Tessa. Owen falls asleep in Lucy's arms, his little body finally relaxed. Jax and Knox follow on their bikes, the rumble of their engines a constant presence behind us.
"So," Tessa says, glancing at me from the driver's seat. "You got a name?"
"Ainsley."
"Ainsley. Pretty. I'm Tessa. This is Lucy. We're part of the Old Lady Mafia."
I blink. "The what?"
Lucy laughs softly. "It's what we call ourselves. The wives and girlfriends of the Iron Reapers. We look out for each other. And we look out for women who need help."
"I don't need—"
"Yeah, yeah," Tessa interrupts. "You don't need help. We get it. But you're getting it anyway, so deal with it."
I should be annoyed. I should tell her to fuck off. But instead, I feel something I haven't felt in a long time.
Safe.
It's a lie, of course. Safety is an illusion. But for tonight, I'll take it.
"Thank you," I whisper.
Tessa glances at me in the rearview mirror and smiles. "Don't mention it, babe. We've all been where you are. One way or another."
I don't ask what she means. I don't want to know. I just close my eyes and let the rumble of the engine lull me into something that almost feels like peace.