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Chapter One

Irene

PRESENT DAY

“ H ow old are you?” The small child looks up at me with sad, scared eyes as I smile softly. There’s little I can do to ease her fears, yet at the same time, I have to gauge what I’m doing. She opens and closes her mouth several times before shaking her head.

I try not to let out a frustrated sigh in front of her. There’s no telling how old she is, what her cognitive abilities are, or how to engage her gross motor skills to ensure she is on track. I can guess based on her build, but we also have zero idea of how she was being treated.

The tech guy from the MC, Globe, had done some research with a couple of guys from other chapters.

If they are correct, this young individual was taken from her home in Nashville when she was just three months old, approximately six years ago.

So, she should be almost seven. The family provided their local detectives with DNA samples that are being shipped to us, but with this latest bust happening so fast, it will be about a week before we even get the sample to the lab.

Her nails drag against the skin on her inner wrist where others like it have welted over. A couple of them are scabbed, but I don’t want her to cause herself any more pain. If only I could tell her that what happened to her was wrong, but that’s not my role currently.

Running my fingers through my hair, I give her a tentative, strained smile.

“Well, young lady, it was lovely to meet you. Would you like to meet one of my other friends to go play?” Her face immediately lightens as she nods fiercely.

I can’t say that I blame her for wanting to get out of this place.

Being one-on-one with an adult she’s never met is pretty scary.

I gently knock on the wall next to me, and then seconds later, the door opens to Winifred smiling brightly.

“Aren’t you cute!” Wini says, her gentle southern accent playing on the kids’ heartstrings. “Why don’t you and I go play with some others while Ms. Irene talks with Ms. Mila?” Wini doesn’t give the girl any time to agree before corralling her into the main area with the other kids.

Mila comes in behind them; Her face lights brightly as she passes the girl. The second the door closes, the facade drops.

“This is bad,” she mutters, dropping her notepad to her lap followed by her head in her hands.

As the lead in-house therapist, if she’s saying things aren’t looking too hot, then it’s absolutely awful.

“We don’t have many records for the kids here, dude.

” Looking back at my computer screen, my entire spreadsheet comes up practically blank.

“I know,” I sigh, putting my hair into a bun to get it off my suddenly sweaty neck. “Any luck on Wini’s side?” Mila immediately shakes her head.

“Out of the two hundred kids, she’s only been able to see twenty or so, not including the twelve that aren’t old enough.

You still have about fifty to screen before they are sent to me, then here for additional screening, then brought back to you for final approval.

On the plus side, Wini has been able to get a couple of the teenagers started on basic vitamins to help level out their blood work. ”

“Sweet,” I murmur, frustration licking at my bones. “Think you two would be able to get a finalized report by the end of next week?”

She nods. “I don’t see why not, though I think the guys want to go to Servants of the Sun to talk to the older kids and figure out what their plans are.

” That has my head snapping up. “Apparently, Globe has been working with Regan and a few of the Jacket Pickers on getting parents contacted out? Unfortunately, they are running into a lot of issues. One teenager has been missing for over thirteen years.” I let out a low whistle, my anxiety skyrocketing.

“The parents weren’t happy to see him?” I question, my anger rising to a boiling point.

She shakes her head with a sad smile. “Negative. They were doing research and saw somewhere that teens coming back from those…. circumstances are more likely to act and lash out. They didn’t want to deal with it.

” She opens her folder and grabs a stack of papers.

“These are all parents who have signed over their rights to Ride4Kids and Blood Reapers MC. Thankfully, two sets of parents were contacted and were thrilled to know their child was located. We apprised them of the situation, and that we aren’t aware of what they went through, they were both ready to take on the action.

We informed them that our doors would always be open if they needed to bring them back for any reason.

They didn’t seem interested in that option.

So, we should see them later this week.”

I gawk at the stack. There are easily one hundred pages sitting in front of me, more than I think I have ever experienced in my tenure.

Sadness for these kids barrels into my heart, an emotion I’m not unfamiliar with in this position.

We bring them back from being in shit positions only for someone to decide that research is better than their kid.

It’s a fucked-up world, but I’m so glad we can support them.

If it weren’t for my history, knowing what it is like to be taken from terror only to be brought to the unknown, I don’t think I would have survived being told my parents didn’t want me.

Being told that I’m not wanted by the people that are supposed to love me unconditionally because of the shit I went through.

Another unfortunate piece to the puzzle that I have witnessed is that love is conditional, no matter whether people believe it.

A knock on the door makes me sit up slightly. Regan peeks her head through the door, a soft smile gracing her delicate features.

“I have a study group in ten minutes if you want to round up the troops?” She questions, looking more at Mila than me. Mila grabs the stack of papers back and puts them away before standing.

“We will have those reports done for you by the end of next week. If anything else comes up before then, let me know.” With that, she turns on her heel and follows Regan out of the door.

Silence stretches longingly between me and the faint steps that grow more distant. Several seconds go by when my ears suddenly ring from the silence. Not being able to take it anymore, I pull out my phone to play soft music.

Ever since I was rescued all those years ago, the silence is far too loud for me.

As if my body feels the impending doom looming over me, it thinks everything will fall inward.

I spent days in isolation when I wasn’t busy helping them prepare others against my will, or if I refused, they just sent me to spend time in the brig.

It was completely silent, with no water droplets or mice scurrying across the concrete like on the main levels.

It was awful, and while I still do not know how long I spent in the brig when I went.

Just thinking about it is enough to send me into a mini tailspin.

Taking several slow, long deep breaths, I force myself to focus on the task at hand. My past isn’t my present, which doesn’t define my future. I am safe and continue to save those who need it most, even if they don’t understand that they need it.

As the head of case management for the children in the group home and adoption agencies, it’s my job to ensure they are getting what they need.

We have several other qualified workers who follow up with them one-on-one, but I have the final say in their medical plans.

Winifred is our group psychiatrist, only really needed when children have exceptional needs or require medication management.

Thankfully, out of the now five hundred children we have housed here, only one hundred and fifty are on her side of the program, give or take.

Filling out the item reports is easy as the data is pretty much already there.

Matteo, one of the computer guys, inputs the generic data for me so that I can go from there.

Working quickly, I do my best to create a finalized number for the middle of the month to put forward to Shark, the MC president.

For the funding that he helps us receive, they require a fuck ton of additional paperwork.

“What the fuck?” I grumble as my computer screen suddenly goes black. Clicking buttons, pushing the power button, looking at the power strip, none of that works. My lights are still on in the room, so obviously the power isn’t out.

Dialing out to the main area doesn’t work, which means I’m stuck calling the main tech guys.

“Matteo speaking,” the voice growls. Like an immediate out-of-body response, I swear my core cries for mercy. Gravely and deep, it’s a voice that I’m not able to resist. Sadly, I don’t think I have ever met him in person, but if I did, I might have to ask him to say dirty things to me… “Hello?”

“Oh!” I gasp, clearing my throat in embarrassment and attempting to shake away the dirty thoughts bouncing in my brain. “This is Irene from Ride4Kidz.”

“I know; I have caller ID,” he chuckles, the sound sending shock waves straight to my core. “Is everything okay?”

“Actually, I seem to have some issues with my computer.”

“Desktop or laptop?” He responds quickly.

“Uh,” I blow out a breath, looking for the box thingy that makes noise. “I think desktop? It’s usually a big rectangle thing on the side of my desk…” I glance down to see the spot is empty. “Well, it’s not there anymore.”

“One of the others must have come to upgrade the system without telling you. I will be there in a few.”

“Oh, you can-” Before I can respond, the line goes dead. Cool. Let’s hope his face doesn’t match his voice because the likelihood of me climbing him is pretty damn high right now.

Fuck hormones.