Page 25

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

CONAN

ARRIVING AT THE MOTEL

The three of us shut down our bikes and march up the stairs and onto the second level. The steps are wooden and creak as we add the weight of our bodies to them. It won’t be much longer before this entire building crumbles and caves.

“Why’d you pick this place to stash them?” I ask Auto as we safely make it to the second floor. “This place is falling apart.”

“It’s the only place around here that takes cash,” Auto states as he raps his knuckles on the door.

I snicker to myself when I see the nailed in numbers dangling upside down. They really could care less about this place and don’t spend any effort maintaining it. They’d spend less money demolishing it and rebuilding from the ground up than they would if they tried to rehab it.

“Coming!” I hear shouted from the inside.

We stand there, waiting for a few more seconds before we’re greeted by a young teenage boy who is no older than seventeen but has the outward appearance of a twelve year old, he’s that malnourished.

“Jordan, these are my brothers, Kodiak and Conan. They’re the pres and VP of the club. Guys, this is Jordan, he’s the oldest of the crew of boys.”

“He’s the oldest,” Kodiak mumbles. “How old are you, boy?”

“Turned seventeen last month, I think,” he murmurs.

“You think?” I ask, raising my brows. “You don’t know?”

“I know, I just don’t keep up with stuff like that. It’s not important,” Jordan contests.

“Uh, just saying, it’s important,” I attest. “How old is the youngest of y’all?”

“Us boys? Fourteen,” Jordan answers.

“You got a girl in there?” Auto asks, “I didn’t see a girl when I placed you here.”

“My niece,” Jordan conveys. “Brooklynn, she’s my sister's kid, but last month, Josey and her boyfriend disappeared and we haven’t seen either of them since.”

“So you kept her?” I probe, not sure if this should make me angry or not.

“She’s my family, of course I kept her,” Jordan says, scowling at me. “You don’t throw away your family, nor do you turn them into social services. Do you know the shit that happens to foster kids?”

“I know what happens to them,” I apprise.

“Then you know why I didn’t drop her off,” Jordan states.

“How old is she, Jordan?” Auto inquires, looking over his shoulder as a baby begins to cry.

“A few months or so,” Jordan answers, shrugging his shoulders.

“Guess that’s another thing that isn’t important to know,” I grumble.

Marcum pushes the kid through the door and we all follow his lead, leaving the door open because we’re going to be getting these kids out of here and taking them with us when we head out.

There’s no way in hell we’re leaving them here, they need someone to keep a watch over them.

They’re too damn young to be on their own.

This baby, Brooklynn, has a towel wrapped around her butt as a makeshift diaper. She’s in a toddler’s arms as he plays with her, trying to distract her.

“Thought you said the youngest boy was fourteen?” I ask, turning toward Jordan.

“It is. That’s not a boy,” Jordan answers, pointing at the tot.

That takes me aback, because the little one’s hair is chopped close to the scalp and is wearing basketball shorts and a tank top.

“She had lice so we had to cut her hair off and someone tossed that outfit, and since it was her size, we grabbed it.”

My eyes close as I call on my patience. Where are all of these kids’ parents? How have they avoided the system for as long as they have? And why the hell has nobody from this godforsaken town stepped up, pulled them from the streets, and taken them in?

Kodiak turns to Auto and says, “Call Judge Parsons, we’re going to need a favor.”

“It’ll be our only marker with him,” Auto reminds us as he walks out onto the stoop and makes the call.

“Introduce us to everyone else, Jordan,” I demand, finding it amusing that the older boys have now circled around the girls, protecting them from us. “We aren’t going to hurt them, boys. We’re here to help.”

“How?” the boy in the middle of the cluster asks. “If you think you’re going to play good citizen and call social services, that’s not any sort of help we’re interested in.”

“Who are you?” Marcum asks, stepping up to where he’s shoulder to shoulder with me.

“Landon. Who are you?” the boy asks.

“My name is Kodiak, I’m the president of the Deviant Knights Motorcycle Club, and this is my brother, Conan, he’s the vice president. When I tell you we don’t do things the citizen way, I’m speaking the truth. We don’t follow the laws of man.”

“In other words, we won’t be turning you into anybody. Got me?” I press.

“Sure,” Landon answers. His tune is full of blusterous mistrust, which I can’t blame him for, it’s my presumption every adult in his life has let him down one way or another.

“Guys,” Jordan snaps. “Introduce yourselves. These guys are the ones who put us up here for a few days and gave us enough money to buy the girls milk.”

“Appreciate you giving us a few nights off the streets and helping us get the girls their milk. I’m Austin,” the boy on the left says, holding out his hand which I quickly shake.

“It was nice to have some relief from the heat,” the boy on the right says, holding out his hand. “My name is Tate. This is my little sister, Hadley.” The toddler, upon introduction, gives me a short, shy smile before turning back to the baby.

“Where’s everyone’s parents?” Kodiak asks, plucking the question I want to know out of my mind. “Do they know how y’all are living?”

“As if they’d care,” Austin snarks. “My parents said I was old enough to take care of myself and decided their time as parents was done so they took off.”

“How old are you, Austin?” I ask.

“Sixteen. Didn’t even give me a party before they left,” he grumbles.

“Our parents died in a car crash and our uncle was supposed to be taking care of us,” Tate inserts.

“But he wasn’t a good man, I caught him checking out Hadley with too much interest, if you catch my drift.

So I packed up what little we had and snuck out one night.

He still gets a check for us, and as long as that continues to happen, he won’t come looking for us. ”

“We’re gonna need his name and address,” Marcum states, grinding his jaw. “We’ll reroute those checks to you so you can spend it on you and your sister.”

“He won’t like that,” Tate warns.

“I could give a shit what he likes,” Marcum snaps.

“This uncle of yours, he’ll be eating out of a tube from his hospital bed by the time we’re done with him. He won’t be someone you’ll have to worry about,” I promise him.

Once that vow is made, Auto comes back inside. “Laid out the situation to Parsons, he’s going to give us custody of the kids as soon as I finagle a few things.”

“What sort of things?” I hear asked from the doorway.

“For fuck’s sake!” I mumble, hands on my hips and head tossed up toward the ceiling. “What are you two doing here, Demi?”

“Saw your bikes parked out front, wanted to stop by and show off my waxed face,” she says, which has me twisting on my feet and marching over to her.

“Why’d you do something like that?” I ask, rubbing my thumb across her lip where I can see red bumps.

“Apparently, I had a lot of hair on my face that needed removing. Who are they?” Demi questions, glancing around me. “Where are their parents and why does that baby have a towel around her butt?” Upon seeing the women, the guys once again take a protective stance around the girls.

“What’s going on, Marcum?” Luna asks, stepping up and taking a stance beside Demi. “These kids need clothes and food. Like, right now!”

“Jordan, Landon, Austin, and Tate, these are our old ladies, Demi and Luna. Ladies, Auto found these boys yesterday and they were in need of our help so he put them here to keep safe until we could figure out what their situation was so we could do something about it,” I announce.

They share pleasantries and our women gravitate toward the little ones, the boys must know they mean no harm so they shift sideways so they can get through their huddle. “Oh my God! She’s tiny,” Demi says, running a finger along Brooklynn’s cheek. “How old is she?”

“That’s Brooklynn,” Jordan tells her. “She’s my niece and she’s four months old.”

“You think or you know?” I ask for clarification.

“I know!” Jordan snaps, glaring at me. “She’s important so I remember.” I hold my hands up so he knows I meant no harm by my question. “Sorry, but she’s the only reason I fight as hard as I do to keep us all safe.”

Demi strides up to me, furiously announcing, “They’re coming with us. Today. Right now.” She stomps her foot for emphasis which has me grinning.

“That was the plan, baby. Put Demoness away,” I tease her.

“It’s a good thing y’all passed by in the Suburban. It’ll give us enough seats to get everyone back to the clubhouse. We’ll take it from there and figure out where they’ll be staying,” Marcum states.

“We stay together,” Jordan insists.

Getting that this is essential to having them come along with us, I nod my head and say, “We’ll see what we can do, I swear. For now, let’s get y’all to the club and get you fed.”