Page 70 of Harper's Song

“Finally,” he snaps. “I’ve been trying to wake you up for at least an hour. You gotta talk to them and convince them to trust you. I’m glad you’re alive, by the way.”

Very slowly the blurriness stars to fade and my surroundings start to make sense. I’m in a narrow bed, soft and warm, my chest is covered with bandages, something’s tugging at my cheek and the aches and pains I’m feeling everywhere are just that, nothing too serious. As for alive, yeah, I’m starting to feel like I might be. I wasn’t sure for a while when Doc was working on me.

I try to sit up and it works, doesn’t make me want to curl up in agony. There’s a needle stuck into my hand the tube attached to a half empty IV fluid bag hanging off a screw in the wall. I don’t feel well, but I feel better and suppose with everything that’s happened that’s the best I can hope for.

“Did they find Harper yet?” I ask and with that question all my lucidity returns.

I know where I am. I know what’s at stake and I know Scar hates me every bit as much as I knew he would. As I deserve, probably, because I shouldn’t have taken Harper from under his protection, not when I knew what the Renegades wanted her for.

Chance shakes his head. “They don’t know where that Grove place is yet. If she’s really there. How much do you trust this Gene guy?”

I shrug and put my feet on the ground. Whatever meds Doc gave me returned a lot of my strength and didn’t make me drowsy. Good.

“I think he’s telling the truth about why he rescued me,” I say. “As for the rest, who knows how much of their plans they actually shared with him.”

“He seems to be some sort of computer whizz kid, Hawk is really impressed by his skills,” he says. “But Cross and them want more proof. As for Scar—”

“He wants me dead,” I say, saving him the trouble.

“What the fuck did you wake him for?” Doc asks angrily as he rushes into the room, followed closely by Scar.

“Cross said we’re riding and I knew he wouldn’t want to miss that,” Chance says.

“I wouldn’t,” I say, then stand and look past Scar at Cross who is already fixing me with his hardest, blackest look. He and Hunter have the same sort of steadiness in their gazes, but Hunter’s is never this hard or this unyielding.

“I don’t have much of an excuse for all the things I’ve done and caused,” I tell him, wishing I could come up with some anyway. Or at least some better words. “I’ll make it up to you. Or die trying. But if you try to prevent me from going to get Harper, I’ll go on my own. And I’ll fight anyone who tries to stop me.”

If anything shifts in Cross’ eyes at hearing that, I don’t see it. But I mean what I said, completely. I won’t live long after Harper is gone. I’ve always known that. And if something’s already happened to her, if she’s beyond my reach now, I’ll only live long enough to avenge her.

“Fine,” Cross says and Scar turns to him so fast a blast of air hits my face.

“What the fuck do you mean,fine?” he asks Cross.

“I mean he’s coming with us. Someone get him some clothes,” Cross says, then shrugs at Scar. “Your daughter trusts him, my son and Chance do too. Maybe they know something we don’t.”

“Finally, someone listens,” Chance says kinda needlessly, but it’s his way to provoke.

“This is insanity,” Scar says. “They don’t know shit—”

“Look at him,” Cross says. “He’s been tortured for hours and now he’s standing there, ready to fight me, you and all the rest of us for a chance to go find Harper. I mean, just from your professional standpoint you know how rare that is.”

Scar’s face is contorted like he really wishes he could say it’s not but can’t.

“Plus, he brought us the hacker who now showed us exactly where all the Renegades and the rest of the clubs with them are,” Cross says. “It’s exactly what we needed.”

“You let the hacker track the phones?” Chance asks.

This is all news to me, but I’m glad to hear Gene’s been proving himself useful. He might end up saving me in more ways than one.

“Yes, he found them,” Hawk says as he jostles into the room. “But that’s not all. They sent some photos.”

His voice kinda catches in his throat and he’s hiding the screen of his phone like he really doesn’t want to show them to us.

“Of Harper,” he adds, but he didn’t have to. I already knew. And no, I don’t want to see no pictures.

Scar seems to be having a similar reaction, judging by how wide and lost his eyes look. But he recovers quickly.

“How bad is it?” he asks.

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