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The man in leather slid an arm around my shoulders, keeping my body upright. “Name’s Rael. I got a friend who’s good at fixin’ people. How about I bring you to him. Yeah?”
After the day I had, I didn’t have the energy or the will to refuse. “Sure.”
“You’re in bad shape, kid. You think you can manage to ride without falling off?”
I didn’t understand what he meant until I saw the Harley parked in the empty street. A light layer of snow covered the seat as he led me over. Dusting it off, he slid a leg over and then gestured for me to do the same.
“I ain’t into no man ridin’ bitch on my bike, but you need a doctor. Hop on.”
Wobbling, I missed the first time but plopped my ass down behind him on the second try.
“Hold on, kid. It’s icy as fuck. You fall off, and it’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker.”
Mumbling a response, I held onto his shoulders as Rael chuckled.
“Thank fuck you didn’t wrap your arms around my waist. I can’t give my brothers ammunition.”
Having no idea what he meant, I kept my mouth shut as he fired up the motorcycle, and we headed down the road.
“HEY, KID, WAKE UP.”
My eyes blinked, heavy as bags of sand as I opened them wider and stared around the room of strangers. My sluggish brain took a few seconds to remember the bullies, my painful fall, and the biker who rescued me.
Rael leaned against the wall opposite of my position. Propped with pillows, I stared at him first and then the other guys in the room. They all wore similar leather jackets with different patches. The guy at the end of my bed crossed his arms and ticked his head in my direction.
“You okay, kid?” I spotted president on the front of his jacket.
“Yes, sir,” I answered groggily, wincing as I tried to sit up straighter.
“Don’t move too quick. You’ve got a lot of injuries,” another of them added. A patriotic bandana was wrapped around his head as he observed me carefully. “And they aren’t new,” he added, mumbling the last few words.
“Who are you?” I asked, wondering why all of these gruff looking strangers were hanging out by my bed. And why the hell was I in a bed to begin with? I didn’t remember falling asleep in this room.
“I’m Patriot. You passed out when I was working on your leg.”
Sighing, I flopped back against the pillows. “Hurt like a bitch,” I admitted.
Several snorts followed by a couple of chuckles filled the room.
“You’re tough as nails, son. What’s your name?”
Whispering floated into the room, and I knew I was the only one who could hear it. “Shadow.”
“Ain’t got no real name?” Rael asked, eyeing me like he figured out that I didn’t divulge the truth on purpose. “Shit, kid. We might wear leather and ride Harleys, but we ain’t the enemy.”
He was right, but I still didn’t like to tell anyone my birth name. Even the kids at school called me Shadow. Shrugging, I didn’t offer an excuse. Anything I said would be bullshit, and I wasn’t a liar.
“This is my club,” the president began, “and sooner or later, I need the truth even if you only tell me.”
Swallowing hard, I gave a brief nod.
“I’m Grim. You know Rael and Patriot. You’ll meet the rest of the guys later. Right now, I need to know where you’re stayin’ and if it’s safe.”
Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t help my sarcasm. “The government sure thinks my foster parents are safe enough.”
The three men exchanged a look.
“And what do you have to say?” Grim asked, staring me down.
