Page 41
Story: Dex (Heavy Kings MC #4)
We spent the next few minutes catching up on familiar names, success stories mixed with ongoing struggles. It felt good to hear about their lives, to know that some of them had found their footing. It also made me acutely aware of how lucky I was to have escaped that cycle.
"Actually," Elena said, shifting forward with that expression that meant she was about to ask for something, "I came here for a reason. I was hoping to catch you, see if you might be able to help with something."
"Anything," I said immediately. "You know that."
"We're doing a big charity drive this Saturday. Selling some special donations to raise money for our winter program." She paused, watching my face. "You remember those beautiful wooden toys that show up sometimes? From Scout Craft?"
My chest went warm at the mention. Of course I remembered.
"The dollhouses," I breathed. "And those puzzle boxes with the secret compartments."
"Exactly. Well, we've received an especially generous donation from them.
Hand-carved rocking horses, play kitchens, the most incredible train sets.
Museum-quality pieces, honestly. Someone in this community has been blessing us for years, and now we have the chance to turn that blessing into funding for our winter heating program. "
"That's amazing." I thought about the families who'd huddle in the shelter once the temperature dropped, the children who'd play with donated toys while their parents figured out next steps. "Scout Craft always felt like—like someone was watching over us. Guardian angels or something."
Elena smiled. "That's exactly how I've always thought of it. These toys show up when we need them most, always perfect for whatever children we're serving. It's uncanny, really. Like someone knows exactly what we need before we do."
"What do you need from me?" I asked, already knowing I'd say yes to whatever it was.
"You were always our best at displays, at making things look inviting.
And more importantly, you know our families.
You know how to talk to people who are considering donating, how to make them understand what their money really does.
" She leaned forward, earnest now. "I need someone who can help set up, arrange the pieces to really showcase them, work the crowd during the sale.
Make people fall in love with these toys the way our families do. "
“And you think . . . you think it would be safe?”
“We haven’t had any trouble at all since you left. It was probably a hollow threat.”
"Well, in that case, yes." The word came out fierce, immediate. "I would love to help."
Oh, it felt good to be needed again. To contribute to something that mattered. To help the place that had kept me afloat during the darkest time of my life. The joy of it filled my chest until I could barely breathe.
"It's just for the day," Elena clarified, though she must have seen I would have agreed to anything. "Setup starts early—seven in the morning. The sale runs from nine to three. We're doing it in the community center next to the shelter, more room for displays."
"I'll be there." I reached across the table to clasp her hands, needing her to understand how much this meant. "Thank you for asking me. For still thinking of me as someone who could help."
"Oh, sweetheart." Her eyes went soft behind her glasses. "You were never just someone who needed help. You were part of our family. Still are, I hope."
Family. After so many years of being alone, I was suddenly drowning in belonging—Dex, the club, Mrs. Kowalski, and now Elena welcoming me back to the shelter family I thought I'd lost.
We talked for a few more minutes about logistics—what to wear, what time to arrive, who else would be helping. When Elena finally stood to leave, she pulled me into another hug, this one longer, tighter.
"I'm proud of you," she whispered against my hair. "Whatever you've been doing, whoever's been taking care of you, keep it up. You deserve all the happiness in the world."
After she left, I stood behind the counter in a daze, hands automatically going through the motions of afternoon cleanup while my mind spun with possibilities. Saturday. The charity drive. A chance to give back, to matter, to be part of something bigger than my own survival.
I couldn't wait to tell Dex.
I practically bounced through the door of Dex's apartment, still riding the high of Elena's visit. My keys missed the hook on the first try, clattering to the floor, but I barely noticed. All I could think about was Saturday, the charity drive, the chance to matter again.
"Dex?" I called out, kicking off my shoes with more enthusiasm than coordination. "You won't believe what happened today!"
He emerged from the kitchen, dish towel in hand, and his smile at seeing me made my heart do its usual flip. "Good day at work, little one?"
"The best." I crossed to him in quick steps, too excited to play it cool. "Elena came by—my boss from the shelter. Remember her? She's like everyone's mom there, keeps track of all the families, makes sure nobody falls through the cracks."
"I remember." He set the towel aside, giving me his full attention. "What did she want?"
"There's a charity drive Saturday. A big one.
They're selling these incredible donations to fund the winter program.
" I was talking too fast, words tumbling over each other, but I couldn't slow down.
"And she wants me to help. Me, specifically.
Said I was the best at displays, that I knew how to talk to donors. "
His hands found my waist, steadying me as I practically vibrated with excitement. "That's great, baby. You miss the shelter."
"I do. I really do. But it's more than that.
" I pressed my palms against his chest, needing him to understand.
"She said I was family. That I was never just someone who needed help, that I belonged there.
Do you know how long it's been since anyone wanted me around for what I could give instead of what I needed? "
"You give me everything," he said quietly, but I was too caught up to really hear the emotion in it.
"And the donations—Dex, they're from Scout Craft.
You know, that mysterious donor who's been supporting the shelter for years?
Hand-carved toys that are basically art.
Dollhouses with working lights, rocking horses that could be in museums, these puzzle boxes with secret compartments that the kids go crazy for. "
Something shifted in his expression. Subtle, but I'd gotten good at reading him. His smile stayed in place, but tension crept into his shoulders, his thumb stopped its absent stroking of my hip.
"Scout Craft," he repeated, voice carefully neutral.
"They're like our guardian angel. These toys show up exactly when we need them most. Like magic.
Like someone's watching over the shelter kids.
" I studied his face, trying to understand the change.
"Elena says whoever makes them must really understand what those children need.
The attention to detail, the way each piece is crafted with such love. .."
He actually flinched. Small, barely there, but I felt it through my palms on his chest.
"What's wrong?" I pulled back slightly, excitement dimming. "You don't think I should do it."
"It's not that." He ran a hand through his hair, that tell of his when he was working through something complicated. "It's just—the timing isn't great."
"The timing?"
"Things with the Serpents are heating up." His hands tightened on my waist, protective instinct kicking in. "Saturday especially. I'd rather keep you somewhere I know you're safe."
The reminder of my father, of the threats circling us, put a damper on my joy. But not enough to kill it entirely.
"It's a charity drive at a community center," I said carefully. "In broad daylight. Surrounded by families and donors and shelter staff. How much safer could I be?"
"You'd be surprised." The grimness in his voice made my stomach clench. "The serpents aren’t exactly known for respecting civilian boundaries."
"So I'm supposed to hide forever?" The question came out sharper than intended. "Never go anywhere, never do anything that matters, just in case he might show up?"
"That's not what I'm saying."
"Then what are you saying?" I searched his face, trying to understand why this particular event had him so on edge. "Because it sounds like you want me to tell Elena no."
He closed his eyes, and I could see the war playing out behind his lids. When he opened them again, resignation had replaced resistance.
"You're right," he said quietly. "I'm being overprotective. It's just—Saturday's complicated. There are things in motion, plans."
"Plans involving my father?"
His silence was answer enough.
"All the more reason for me to be somewhere public," I argued, though my voice had gone smaller. "Somewhere with witnesses and security cameras and normal people living normal lives."
"Maybe." He pulled me closer, tucking my head under his chin. "Let me think about it. Talk to Duke. See if we can work something out."
"Work something out?"
"Security. If you're going to be there, exposed, I want brothers nearby. Make it a whole club community service thing—Heavy Kings supporting local charity, good PR, visible presence that might make your father think twice."
Hope bloomed in my chest. "You'd do that? Get the club involved in a charity toy sale?"
"For you?" His lips found my temple. "Little one, I'd have them volunteer at a tea party if it made you happy."
"Even Thor?" I giggled at the mental image. "In a flower crown, serving tiny sandwiches?"
"Especially Thor. Man needs more culture in his life."
I laughed against his chest, tension draining away. This was why I loved him—he could take my fears, my needs, my ridiculous dreams, and find a way to make them work.
"So I can tell Elena yes?" I pulled back to look at him. "I can help with the drive?"
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41 (Reading here)
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57