Page 38 of Damascus & The Wildfire
As I watched each group, a surprising sense of calm settled over me. The coiled tension in my chest started to loosen.
After two hours, sweat and laughter hung in the air as Rhetta clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “All right, ladies! Thank you for coming out today. We’ll be back next month. Same time, same place. Bring your friends.”
A chorus of thank-yous rippled through the group as women gathered their things. Some lingered, chatting with the Mavericks, their faces flushed with excitement and pride. One of the forties crew gave Fuse a bear hug, and Archer was surrounded by his group, exchanging high-fives. Then, of course, there was Hatchet. One of the sorority girls sidled up to him, slipped a piece of paper into his hand, and whispered something that made him grin. I rolled my eyes. Eva caught my expression and nudged me with her elbow, smirking.
“That’s just Hatchet for you,” she whispered. “He’s a magnet.”
I shook my head. “Next time, we’ll pair him with the cougars. Maybe we’ll invite a senior citizens’ home to participate, and I’ll have him work with some old biddies.”
Eva cocked a brow. “Jealous?”
I scoffed. “Of course not. I just want the women to walk away with skill, not a phone number.”
As the women drifted away, I gathered the guys near the picnic tables. I brushed a stray curl from my face as I tried to find the right words. “Seriously, thank you. You made a real difference today. Some of those women walked in scared and left looking like they could take on the world.”
Hatchet, Fuse, and Archer walked toward their bikes while Coast helped Rhetta break down the registration table.
“Nice work today,” Merrick said, his voice low and warm.
“Thanks,” I said with a grin. “I just wish I could do more. I was worried about one of them.”
“Callie?”
“Yeah.” I frowned. “Something was off. She seemed ready to bolt. I don’t think you caught it, but she flinched when you moved too fast—like she expected to get hit.”
His eyes darkened. “I saw,” he said solemnly. “Maybe next time you can bring Maisie. She volunteers at the women’s shelter.”
“Maybe. Our community needs more than a shelter. A place to sleep isn’t enough. They need a place to heal, physically and emotionally. I don’t think there’s anything like that here.”
“So build it,” he said simply, as if it were as easy as opening a door.
I scoffed. “Do you have any idea how much it would cost? Equipment, technology, a website, marketing. Not to mention the security you need for a facility that serves victims of domestic violence.”
He grinned. “I know a good marketer,” he said, an eyebrow raised.
I rolled my eyes. “Funny. I’m a great marketer,” I said with a laugh. “But I don’t know a damn thing about running a nonprofit or fundraising.”
“The club would back it,” he said softly. “We raise money for causes all the time. And Maverick Security could post someone there daily. I happen to know the guy in charge.”
“Would the club really support it?”
Merrick nodded once. “You should talk to Thane and Reaper about it. They’d get behind it. Reaper’s mom is a domestic violence survivor. Mavericks have always stood to protect women and children.”
“Well,” I said, clearing my throat. “Guess I have some homework to do.”
My stomach dropped as I skimmed through the news on my phone while sipping my morning coffee.
Fucking fuck.
I took a screenshot of the headline and sent it to Eva.
“Motorcycle Club With Violent History Teaches Women’s Self-Defense Class”
My pulse pounded in my ears as I skimmed the article. Some of the facts sounded plausible, the story supported by police reports. It detailed instances of missing prospects, drug dealing, and highway shoot-outs. But the sentence that made my blood boil lay right below Fuse’s prison headshot.
“One instructor, Flint ‘Fuse’ Wood, served seven years in H.H. Coffield correctional facility on charges of assault and attempted murder of a single mother.”
Red-hot fury coated my gaze. I’d told Eva we should be more worried about the prison biker. But she’d urged me to trust her. To trust them.
