Page 7 of Charging Dodge

“It is for us,” she snaps. “This is our reality.”

Through clenched teeth, I mutter, “This back-and-forth arguing isn’t getting us anywhere. If anything, it’s counterproductive.”

“No, it’s not! I agree, it’s getting us nowhere. Let's go, kids, we’re leaving,” Adalynn snarls. As she reaches out for Carter, he yanks his arm away from her and takes a step to the side, shaking his head no. “What are you doing?”

“Where are we going, Adalynn?” Carter's voice hitches as he asks her that. I see the kid’s question hit her like a punch to the gut.

“We’ll talk about it in the car and make the decision as a family,” she tells him.

“I’m fucking terrified, Adalynn!” he yells. Pointing a finger at me, he continues his tirade. “We both know you can’t keep us safe. But he can!”

Following the trajectory of Carter's finger, Adalynn whips her head around to face me, tears welling up in her eyes. “We don't know a single thing about him, Carter,” she contends. “There’s no way we can be sure he is trustworthy.”

A soft tug on the hem of my cut pulls me out of my temper. I look down and Amelia’s standing there at my booted feet. Her eyes are wet, and that small lip of hers is trembling like she’s about to break. It hits me harder than any bullet ever could. All the walls I’ve spent years stacking up just crumble into dust.

“Will you keep the bad men away?” she whispers.

Dropping down, the rough concrete bites into my knees. The little girl next to me looks painfully small, causing all the heavy weight I usually throw around for the club to fade away. I glance over at Adalynn and Carter, seeing their resistance completely gone, replaced instead by the weariness of a fight they are losing. Turning back to the girl searching for a savior in the wrong place, I lock eyes with her, steady and hard. “I can,” I promise. “And I will.”

“I don’t like this,” Adalynn grumbles. “I don't feel comfortable placing our lives in the hands of a virtual stranger.”

I try to keep my voice steady, aiming to cut through her panic. "Look, you don't have to trust me blindly. Keep your keys and drive your own car. If anything feels wrong, just take off. I'm headed to my mother's place to knock out some repairs. Follow along and see what kind of man I am. If you're still uneasy, just keep driving. Otherwise, I'll lead you to a safe spot. How's that sound?" She tilts her head, weighing her options. I look between her and Carter, deciding to offer one more bit of reassurance. "Let me ask you something. Do either of you have any experience with firearms?"

Carter steps forward immediately. “I do,” he declares firmly. “Our pop-pop used to take me hunting, and he made sure I learned how to handle weapons of any caliber.”

“I’ve got a spare piece in my saddlebags you can take,” I offer, hoping this choice doesn't come back to bite me in the ass. Putting my life in a kid’s hands is a hell of a gamble. I’m worried I’m being a fool, handing over hardware like this, but I look at him and see something steady in his eyes. My gut tells me he won’t turn on me unless I give him a reason. I’m arming a teenager and praying I haven't just signed my own death sentence.

“We’re going to be a statistic,” Adalynn says, sighing.

“Quit being dramatic, I’m a man of honor. If I give you my word that you’ll be safe, I’ll stand by it,” I rumble.

I stride past them, heading toward my bike, unlocking the saddlebag and pull out my nine-millimeter. Spinning around on my feet, I raise an eyebrow, silently daring them to step forward. Carter rolls his eyes at his sister and marches my way. When he gets to me he reaches for my gun and I slap his hand away.

“Tell me what you know about this,” I demand, ejecting the magazine and racking the slide to send the live round flying from the chamber.

Rolling his eyes again, he executes the procedure with professional precision. “First, inspect the loading chamber. Close the slide and grip the pistol with your dominant hand. Use your index finger to feel the tip of the top bullet, it verifies the magazine is loaded. Hold the weapon at chest level, tilt the magazine outward, and seat it firmly. Once it clicks, it’s secure. After that, rack the slide to chamber a round by gripping the frame and cupping the rear of the slide, pushing forward while pulling back simultaneously.” His textbook delivery is seriously grating on my nerves.

“Okay, so you know how to prepare it for use, but what do you do after that?” I ask.

“After that, you keep your finger straight along the frame until you’ve identified your target and you’re absolutely ready to shoot,” he answers, meeting my stare with one of his own. His voice doesn't tremble like a kid's anymore. It’s hard. “Pop-pop taught me never to point a firearm at anything unless I intend to destroy it. If those killers from Colorado catch up to us, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Adalynn, Amelia, and Noah safe.”

They’re running from an execution with nothing but a prayer, so there’s no room for soft choices. I drop the weapon into his hands. He takes it with a steady caution that usually takes years to learn. It’s unnatural for a kid to hold steel that way, but he doesn't flinch. The look in his eyes matches the gumption he showed earlier, a quiet promise to protect his own at any cost.

As I return to my bike, the truth hits me like a punch to the gut. This broken family is now my problem whether Adalynn wants it or not. I could walk away. I could fire up this engine and lose myself in the wind like I planned. But I look at the way the kid holds that piece, and I see the reflection of a man who’s been cornered before. If I leave them, they’re dead. It’s that simple. And for reasons I don’t fully understand, I can’t live with that. I’m choosing to drag this mess into my life, and I have a feeling the fallout is going to be life changing.

“Follow me,” I command as I swing my leg over the saddle and twist the throttle. The engine roars to life, a thundering growl that drowns out the rest of the lot’s noise. The younger children sprint toward their vehicle. Adalynn trails behind them, her movements reluctant, like she’s walking into the lion’s den. I don’t blame her. I’m a stranger with a patch and a dangerous life, and she’s trusting me with everything she has left. I put the bike in gear and pull onto the road.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

I roll into Mom’s driveway with the car trailing close behind. My engine idles as the front door swings open. As I look up, I see Mom on the patio, beaming. She skips down the steps, grinning like a kid who’s been let loose in the candy store, and heads my way. I kill the ignition and catch her in my arms, holding her back before she can throw herself at me.

“Mom,” I chide, catching her shoulders before she can throw herself on me. “You’re always doing that, and I keep telling you to stop. Those pipes are still scalding hot, and one of these days, you’re going to get yourself burned.”

She waves off my warning, her eyes locking onto the car as the kids climb out. "You brought company?" The surprise in her voice hurts my ego. It’s not that I’m trying to keep her at arm’s length, but Mom’s got a talent for digging where she shouldn't. I’d walk through fire to keep her away from my world, even if it means protecting her from her own curiosity.

“Yeah, I did,” I say, looping an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, let’s go introduce you to the brood.”

CHAPTER SIX