Page 24 of Rise In Arms

I head toward the door and open it, and remembering the issues with her car, I say, “Oh, and just pack the basics, you two are riding with us, there’s no way in hell you’re driving that heap of shit back.”

Hazel goes to answer but I cut her off. “Don’t want to hear it, just do as I say, Hazel. Your life is worth more than that car. Now just get your shit together. I’ll call Torch to pick up your things, and he’ll tow the car back with your extra stuff. For now, there’s not much room on the bikes so just a small backpack.”

Before I can say anything else, my phone rings and I grab it out of my jeans pocket. “It’s Prez, gotta take this. I’ll meet you two out front.”

Turning to leave, I quickly answer the call, closing the door securely behind me. “Prez.”

“Hey, everything all right? I just called Tracker and he told me what’s going on. Why didn’t you tell me your sister was in trouble?”

“Sorry, Prez, I was meaning to call you. It all happened so fast. I was just about to leave the compound when she called, telling me she’s in some sort of trouble. I asked Tracker to track her down, so I could meet up with her. He decided to come with me, and Bear did too.”

“You bringin’ her back here?”

“Was gonna, that okay with you? I don’t know where else to take her.”

“Of course, man. Your family is our family, and we protect our own.”

Sighing with relief, I say, “Thanks, Prez. There’s one other thing….”

“What’s that?”

I tighten my jaw. “She’s got a friend with her—she’s the reason they’re on the run. Her boyfriend’s slapped her around, got her pregnant and is trying to force her to have an abortion, so that’s why she left.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence on the other end of the line, and then finally he seethes, “What the fuck, who is this asshole?” his tone deadly.

“That’s our other problem,” I confess reluctantly.

“Why, who is he?”

“Blake Reynolds.”

“Not the MMA fighter?” Quill says, his surprise evident in his voice.

“Same one.”

“Fuck, your sister really got into some messed-up shit.”

I snort. “Tell me the fuck about it. Look, Prez, I would tell her friend to go back home, but she’s vulnerable, man, and I’d never forgive myself if he hurt her again.”

Silence.

“Prez, you there?”

I hear Quill sigh into his handset. “Yeah, so tell me… what’s she look like?”

Drawing my eyebrows together, I ask, “What has that got to do with it?”

“She’s hot, isn’t she?”

I can almost picture the smirk on Quill’s face, and I laugh as I walk down the driveway to where my bike is parked. “You know me too well.”

Quill chuckles. “Nah, man. I know any man. You claimin’ her?”

Shocked at the casually asked question, I stop midway to my bike. “Claimin’ her? I only just met her. Plus, she has a bun in the oven that’s not my kid.” He laughs again, and I sputter out, “What’s so funny?”

“You sure know how to pick ’em” is all Quill says.

“Look, no one’s picking anyone, she’s not mine, she has a man.”

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