Page 3 of Bloom: Part 1

“You’re bleeding too, man. You need to get those looked at, stat,” Winter said.

Steeling my resolve, I clenched my teeth, took the shirt from Saint, and covered the boy’s limbs with it. “Saint, ride my bike. I’ll take him in the van.” Thank fuck we’d anticipated Jaws running when we showed up, so we’d brought the van in case we had to bring him back with us kicking and fighting.

“Why do I have a feeling this kid’s about to turn our lives upside down?” Saint threw me the keys. Cradling the kid in my arms, I ran with him to the van.

Hang in there

The screams had finally stopped. Thank fuck. I removed my hands from my ears, which still rang. The bandage on my jaw felt funny, but Saint’s dad had cleaned the wounds and applied antibiotic treatment to both areas. I’d showered in water so hot my skin still felt raw, but nothing could cleanse my eyes from what I’d seen.

My phone vibrated, and I checked the screen. I cussed under my breath.

“Yes, Pop?” I answered.

“Where the fuck are you?” he bellowed.

“Didn’t Winter explain—”

“That fucking junkie never knows if he’s coming or going.”

“Well, it’s true. Jaws won’t be paying you back in this life, so forget about it.”

“Did his kid really kill him?”

“We don’t know what happened. Did you know he had a kid?”

“I don’t remember him mentioning any kid. Just a dog they kept around.”

My stomach flipped. There’d been no signs of a dog anywhere. Jaws couldn’t have been talking about his son, could he have? The cardboard box, the crude, makeshift plate, the place where we’d found him—they all added up.

“Jaws always referred to the dog as Mutt.”

The boywasMutt.

I clenched my fists and let the anger flow through me. If that bastard wasn’t dead, I would kill him myself.

“Forget Jaws,” Pop said. “I need you back at the clubhouse right away.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I get the chance.”

“In case I wasn’t clear, I meant to stop whatever the fuck you’re doing and haul your ass back to the clubhouse.”

He hung up before I could tell him I would do no such thing. Over the years, I’d done his bidding to avoid his wrath. There was a reason he and Winter’s father ran the club. Two old-fashioned bikers cut from the same cloth.

Pop and I would have to argue it out when I reached the clubhouse. No way in hell was I going to abandon the child after coming this far.

“Crowe.”

When Dr. Silvera entered the living room, I surged to my feet.

“How’s he doing?”

The doctor frowned. “Where exactly did you find him?”

“Dr. Silvera, you know I can’t answer that.”

“To be frank, Crowe, it’s a miracle that boy is alive. He’s severely emaciated. We’ll have to keep him for a few days to run all the tests we need to on him.”

“Is there anything else you can say about his condition?”

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