Page 53 of Harper's Song

“My office, now,” Cross, our MC president, says as he sticks his head into the dining hall where I’ve been nursing a Scotch even though it’s too early in the day to be drinking and no amount of booze will calm me down besides. I finish the glass anyway, the liquid hardly burning as it slides down my throat and follow him there.

Hawk is already inside, standing by Cross’ gleaming brown wood desk and shooting me an angry look as I enter, which tells me clearly he’s not yet over our spat this morning. Fine by me if it means he’s been working harder to find Harper, which I hope this meeting is about.

Tank, our VP, and his son Chance are there too, sitting side by side on the old, black leather sofa that along with the matching armchairs takes up about half this office. The set’s been in here since I joined the MC, which is going on forty years now, but its age isn’t showing yet.

Leaning against the side of one of the arm chairs is Rook, our Sarge and the guy who brought Jax into our lives and ruined Harper’s. I probably shouldn’t blame him for that, but I do, and I haven’t been able to look him in the eyes for the last week. That still holds.

They’re all silent and staring at me as I enter and close the door firmly behind me.

“Any news?” I ask since I clearly have their undivided attention.

“Yeah,” Cross says and sits in his chair behind the desk. “There’s news.”

He signals Hawk to take up telling it.

Hawk clears his throat but doesn’t take his belligerent eyes off mine. “She just posted something on her Instagram account and kept the location tagging on, thankfully. She’s in deep country Idaho, and she’s doing just fine, judging by what she wrote and the pictures she posted. Her and Jax both are.”

He has the audacity to grin at me as he says that and it’s only years of training my patience and our long friendship preventing me from punching that grin off his face.

“I’m going,” I say. “And Jax won’t be fine after I find them. I can promise you that.”

Chance shifts in his seat, making the leather creak. “About that, Scar…”

His voice falters as I glare at him, but he clears his throat, and goes on with, “Jax isn’t a bad guy. He wouldn’t harm Harper,” because just like his father, he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.

“I’m just about done listening to praises of that good-for-nothing little shit,” I bark at him. “He could never be depended on when he was with us, threw the cut we gave him in our faces, then got you arrested and Hunter almost killed. He then threatened to kill Hunter and tricked my daughter to run off with him when we know full well he’s working with our enemy who wants to abduct her.”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation,” Chance says. “He wouldn’t—”

“Can you guarantee that? Huh? Can you? Because he fucking escaped from prison with two Riders like they were the best of buds,” I say.

“I’m sure—”

“The only thing we can be sure of is that he’s been working against us ever since he left,” I snap, glaring at Tank and then Cross. “What’s Chance even doing here? Is this supposed to be a serious meeting or what?”

Tank grabs his son’s shoulder just as he’s about to say yet another stupid thing, and motions for him to leave the room. Chance thankfully does it without making any more fuss. It’s been one fucking thing after another since the offspring decided they want to be more involved in the MC and it’s time for laying some ground rules.

Rook stands up and faces me as the door shuts behind Chance, an infuriatingly patient look in his eyes.

“Look, Scar, I get it, you’re worried about your daughter, but I also doubt she’s got anything to worry about from Jax,” he says. “He’s rough around the edges, and has a problem with authority, but he’s lived under my roof for years and he’s not a bad kind.”

I shake my head and fight the urge to crack my knuckles menacingly. “I wish everyone would stop trying to fucking console me. I appreciate it and all, but I know what Jax is and he’s no good for Harper. Give me their location, I’m riding. We can decide what’s what later.”

Once Harper’s back home where she belongs and Jax is nowhere near her.

Hawk clears his throat again. “There’s more. The Renegades are also on the move. We gotta be smart about this now.”

“On the move to where she is?” I say, my throat feeling like the sound of Hawk’s voice was an iron fist closing around it.

“We don’t know yet,” Hawk says. “But they’re closer to her than we are. We should plan this well.”

I never should’ve let her go on that tour in the first place, not so soon after we took out the Riders. I fucking knew it was a bad idea.

“You plan all you want, but I’m going now,” I say and head for the door.

“Stop, Scar,” Cross says in that hard voice he uses when he wants it known that it’s his word that goes and no one else’s.

I do stop but mostly because I still need Hawk to tell me where to go.

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