Page 7

Aged 6 years old

I wake up slumped on the back seat of the car. Jameson ranting into his phone,

“I’ve driven all night, not stopped once. The TripleMoon pack Enforcer was there. I’m getting her as far away as possible. This broken brat isn’t worth it, no matter what her DNA tells us.” He’s running his hands through his hair and over his face,

“She is, think how we can use her to keep SRU if not Him off our backs, especially if we can keep her hidden until she is breed-able, the money some will pay for her to bare their offspring, knowing she is of that bloodline, whether she is broken or not” the voice has a southern accent but a very faint one, none of that charisma that normally accompanies it

“Let me know when the lab is back up and running, and I will bring her in, maybe they were wrong, I’m hoping this place will scare something out of her, it could all just be dormant.” He grunts and then turns the radio on, throwing his phone in the passenger seat. It’s been hours since I last saw Ren, and the GPS says four hours till the destination. I miss Ren already, but I won’t cry, not until I’m away from Jameson.

I hope Ren stays calm and doesn’t let Pine take over until he gets his brothers safe.

An hour later, Jameson pulls over for gas and leaves me in the car for 45 minutes. I guess he got food because he comes back smelling of grease and coffee—not the nice kind. He’d also changed his clothes and brushed his hair. I sat up while he was gone and put my seat belt on, not that he acknowledges me when he get back in.

I’m still covered in Gerald, and Rafe’s blood which has gone crusty and flaking out of my hair.

Luckily, Ren took my dress off so the hoody isn’t covered, so I was a little more comfortable, even more so with his scent around me; he always smelt of freshly fallen snow, and when his wolf came to the surface, he smelled of Pine trees, which is why I started calling his wolf Pine. We finally arrive at our destination, which is a barbed wire compound-looking place. HellBlood Motorcycle Club is sprayed on the plywood and wire gate that we enter through.

In front of the main building, rows of bikes are parked with men leaning against them. Women in underwear walk around and rub up against the men, and some women are on their knees in front of them, too.

I don’t pay too much attention to them as Jameson heads into the building. Five minutes later, he exits with a boy around Xander’s age. Jameson opens my door, “Out” is all the directive I’m given. Jameson shuts my door, circles the car, and drives off again.

“Well then!” I turn to the boy, hoping he has orders to take me to a shower, or some form of water so I can get cleaned up.

I let my sight work and see he’s a canine-type shifter, but I’m not familiar with what type. It’s definitely bigger than a wolf. His skin is like leather, and he has fire in his eyes. I pretend to sniff the air as if I’m scenting. Ren and Jenson always told me to show some shifter traits so I don’t appear fully human and that it covers any slips I make about my sight.

When I look up at his face, he’s staring open-mouthed at the gate from which Jameson left. Dust from his tyres drifting in the air.

When he finally snaps out of it, he gives me a sympathetic look then gives a head tilt to follow him; he walks to a building I hadn’t noticed before. It’s a cute little cottage, the type you find in fairytale books. Now I’ve seen it, I can’t believe I’d missed it. It’s so pretty and serene, homely, loved. I jump when the boy speaks, a small squeak leaving me.

“I’m Layton, but the others just call me Lay. Your social worker is a piece of work. Is he always like that?” I look up at him as he leads me around the side of the cottage,

“Erm! Yeah! I haven’t seen him for a few years, but yeah, he’s normally worse!” My stomach grumbles as the smell of food seeps out the open window. Lay chuckles and opens the door, kicking his shoes off, just as I’m getting my second one off, thinking they would be best thrown in the trash, but I might be able to get them clean. I freeze at a booming voice.

“Layton!! What are you doing sneaking in the side door?” I take a steadying breath as I step towards the door. Lay glances at me over his shoulder, then points with a thumb in my direction.

“Guessed Nonna didn’t want her sprinkling blood flakes everywhere, not since she finally got the carpet clean from Ryland rolling mud everywhere.” Layton walks over to the fridge and pulls out sandwich fixings. The man in the kitchen looks at me, then when his eyes go wide, he walks through a door behind him and down a hall.

“Nonna need you down here. Bring some of Cin’s clothes he’s grown out of.” I don’t hear a reply, but the man walks over to me and kneels down.

“Now, sweetheart, go through that door and get yourself cleaned up in the shower.” He points to one of the doors behind me and gives me a sniff.

“My ma... Wife will bring you some clean clothes. Do you want to keep anything you're wearing?” I nod and tug the hoodie slightly. He nods and smiles.

“Okay, then. Once you are clean and dressed, we will get you some food. Layton, you may need more than one hoagie. Her tummy sounds like a bear coming out of hibernation.” He ends with a chuckle. I take a breath and head into the bathroom.

Behind me, I hear a stern but kind feminine voice.

“What do you mean you didn’t ask her name?” the female voice sounds exasperated.

“Did you say she smelt of wolf blood? Is it hers? What has that son of yours done now!” The last part is a statement, and I hear the man grumble,

“Why’s he my son when he’s done something wrong but ours when he’s good?” I flick the shower on and turn to take Ren’s hoodie off when there is a knock on the door. I open it and come face to face with a plump woman who instantly makes me think of a grandmother baking cookies in the kitchen. She even smells like warm cookies.

“Hello sweetie, I bought you some clothes. They might be a little big, though. My dolt of a mate didn’t ask your name!” She waits, holding out the clothes, with a kind smile on her face

“, my name is .” My voice is croaky from the need for a drink. She smiles.

“Is any of that blood yours? Are you hurt?” she asks as I place the clothes by the sink.

“No, I’m not hurt. If you wash my hoody, will it lose its scent? It’s my friends!” I don’t give her any more information than I need to, even though she seems safe. I don’t want to give too much away yet.

“I can use a special soap that leaves traces of scent on them but gets rid of dirt. Don’t worry about that. You get clean and then come get some food.” She pulls the door closed and leaves me alone, I can hear talking but not the words.

I quickly shower, not wanting to use too much hot water. I had to wash my hair three times to remove all the blood, and I still don’t think I got all of it. When I return to the kitchen, the sandwiches Lay made are waiting for me, along with a hot cocoa.

The grown-ups introduce themselves. Nonna is called Natalie, but as everyone else calls her Nonna, I’m to follow suit. Pops, her mate, is really named Reginald, but he hates it and don’t even think of calling him Reggy, so Pops it is – they are Grandmother and Grandfather to all, even those not theirs by blood.

Their son is the President of the motorcycle club. Pops used to be but retired when his son turned 21, just like his father before him, but he wanted to spend more time with Nonna and working on his bikes. Nonna and Pops look after most of the club kids, most being products of one-night stands with club bunnies (the girls I saw when I arrived). They try to get pregnant, hoping one of the guys will make them their old lady/wife, but none of the men are interested. They like the stream of new girls to play with on the regular.

Layton and Decon are the eldest at eleven years old; their mom ran off after she realized she wasn’t getting a ring on her finger; they are twins but not identical.

Then there’s Bear and Rachet, who are nine – different dads. Bear is the vice president's son, Rachet is the Master at Arm’s kid, Silas is eight, and he’s the Priest’s son, Link is seven years old and the tech guy’s son, and then there is Ryland, who is the Pres’s son, Ajax is the master at arm’s son too, and Cin who is also the V.P’s son, they are all five years old, born a few days apart. Even though all but the Twins have different moms who are no longer around, Pops and Nonna have raised them all. Oh, and they are all Hell Hounds! Yeah, I didn’t realize that was a thing.

While I’m eating, Ryland appears at the door with a fluffy pink teddy bear under his arm. As soon as I’m finished, he says something to Pops, who shrugs. Ryland grabs my hand.

“She sleeps in our room.” I’m then dragged upstairs, where I end up plopped in the middle of a queen-sized bed and become part of a three-hound puppy pile, Ryland curled around his teddy. Right before I zonk out, I hear Lay chuckle. “She’s been snagged by the litter already, then.” Then I fall asleep. I don’t feel as safe as I did with Ren and Jenson, but it’s a close second.