“I don’t want no trouble,” the man says quickly.
Bear stops a few feet away, close enough that his size becomes an undeniable factor in the exchange. “Then you picked the wrong way to spend your afternoon,” Bear grits out. “You wanna tell me why you’re followin’ us?”
Mr. Samson swallows, eyes darting past Bear to me. He raises his voice. “Natalie shouldn’t be here,” he says. “Her people are worried about her.”
Bear doesn’t move. “Those damn foster parents aren’t her fucking people. She got blood kin here who care about her.”
“Blood isn’t always thicker than water. In her case, the family that raised her wants her back in the fold. You’ve got no right to stand against that.”
Taking an intimidating step forward, Bear responds forcefully, “The hell I don’t. She’s of legal age. You don’t get to decide where she should be. That’s her decision alone.”
“I was just asked to check on her,” the man insists. “See if she was okay.”
“You followed us,” Bear replies evenly. “You asked questions about our routes. According to the law, that’s stalking. Are you a stalker, Mr. Samson? You also handy with a bit of breakin’ and enterin’? Think you’re an artist?”
The man’s mouth opens, then closes. He looks much less certain now than he did before. “They’re good people,” he says weakly. “They take in kids nobody else wants.”
“No, they aren’t. They exploit foster kids ten ways to Sunday and have gotten away with it far too long.”
Walking right up to the man they sent to force me back to them, Bear reaches into Samson’s back pocket and pulls out his wallet.
The older man sputters, “What are you going to do, rob me? I knew you were no good the minute I set eyes on you.”
Bear opens his wallet, takes a picture of his driver’s license, and slams the wallet against Samson’s chest. I’m trying to work out Bear’s plan when he drags Samson around to the back of his vehicle and takes a picture of his license plate. Then he steps back and takes another picture. It takes me a minute to realize he’s gotten a street sign in the frame. I literally can’t fathom what Bear is doing until he drags the man back around to the passenger side of his car and explains.
“I should beat the shit out of you right here on the street for stalking an innocent young woman. But I’m not gonna. Want to know why?” Before Samson can answer, Bear tells him. “It’s because I don’t have to. I now know exactly where you live, what you drive, and have evidence that you were in Las Salinas stalking someone you had no business even approaching. I can come for you anytime I want. Think about that next time you decide to get caught up with that manipulative asshole you call your minister.”
By the time Bear is finished with him, the man is white as a ghost. Bear leans closer and states very clearly, “I’m letting you go because I want to send a message to the asshole who sent you here. Tell him that I’ve already alerted CPS and the police that they are exploiting and abusing the foster kids in that home. Explain to him that if he steps one more foot into Savage Legion territory, I will not be responsible for my actions.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“It’s a promise. Are you done pissing me off, or do I need to smack you around a bit to get your attention?”
Samson lifts his chin. “David is a god-fearing man. You’re just a thug. The difference between him and you is that he would never abuse another human being, much less the children under his care.”
“They took in kids to get the money,” I say, my voice steady despite the way my hands shake. “And they spent it on themselves.”
Bear glances back at me, surprise flickering briefly across his face before he shifts his stance just enough to block half of me from the man’s view. The gesture is automatic and born of a need to protect me.
I lean sideways to look at Mr. Samson. The man’s face is even whiter than before. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammers.
“I do, and deep down inside you do too. Why do you think they sent you here instead of coming themselves? They knew it was wrong to try and make me go back there and be their house slave. You’re gullible to believe they’re decent people, Mr. Samson.”
Bear steps closer, lowering his voice. “You’re gonna leave. You’re not gonna follow us again. You’re gonna deliver the message I sent and then stay away from here and stay away from Natalie.”
“And if I decide to stay for a spell?” Samson asks, trying to sound brave.
Bear’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Then we’ll be having another conversation at the Savage Legion clubhouse. Trust me when I say you’ll like it a hell of a lot less than this one. You might even end up staying with us permanently.”
The man goes ramrod straight and then scrambles to pull the driver’s side door open. “I’ll go. I swear. I don’t want any trouble with a bunch of savage bikers.”
Bear moves the truck and the sedan speeds away. We sit there and watch until it’s gone, then he turns back to me. His expression softens just enough to register concern. “Are you okay? I hope I didn’t scare you by playing bad cop.”
I’m too shocked to know what I’m feeling, but I answer him anyway. “I’m glad to hear that was all just a very convincing act. I didn’t think you would beat up an old man or murder him.”
Bear smothers back a smile. “I’ve been in this club for several years and haven’t killed a man yet. And I’m not lookin’ to do so anytime soon. But make no mistake, if I have to kill to protect the people I love, I won’t hesitate.”
That statement leaves me feeling conflicted. I don’t want him to be forced to kill to protect me or anyone else. But I guess the law does allow for defending yourself and others, so I have to accept that he’s smart enough to do something like that only as a last resort. If I’m being honest, I might have killed to protect the kids in my care.
