Lance

 

It was the longest half hour of my life. More like twenty minutes at the speed I was keeping. It could have been a year for all I knew. It stretched out forever. Every minute that passed was one more minute when Gigi could’ve been taken away. When Jamie could’ve been taken away. I couldn’t go fast enough. I had to go faster.

 

For some reason, the face I thought of when I rode wasn’t Jamie’s, or Gigi’s. It was my foster mother’s. Shit, when was the last time I thought about her? Years. Probably not since right after I left that terrible place. She was a religious woman. She always wore a cross around her neck, always went to church. I remembered walking past her bedroom door sometimes at night, before bed. It would be open, and she’d be kneeling at the side of it. Saying prayers. That was after she knelt next to me at my bed. She taught me all the prayers and even talked about getting me baptized since I never was.

 

She would always pray for her husband. I remembered that especially clearly. She’d pray for his soul. At first I wondered why she did it. Then he hit me for the first time, after beating her. Then I would wonder why she prayed for him instead of leaving him. She would never leave him. She wasn’t the kind of woman who did that. All she did was kneel by the side of her bed or go to church. She didn’t do anything to stop him from hurting her or me.

 

I never prayed again after I left that house. I didn’t see the point—it didn’t do any good. God and I weren’t on tight terms after that. I thought there couldn’t be a God since he let something like what happened to me happen in the first place.

 

On my way to the motel, I said the first prayer in a long time. God, please don’t let anything happen to them. They never hurt anybody. Do it to me. I would deserve it, not them. Just let me get to them in time. Don’t punish them to punish me. It’s not their fault. I just found them. Don’t take them away.

 

I was sure it wouldn’t do any good, but it couldn’t hurt. I was desperate enough to try anything that might have helped them.

 

I loved my little girl. And I loved Jamie.

 

I wasn’t sure which of those two feelings surprised me more. I never thought I would love either of them, or anybody. I loved my club, but that was different. I used to love Rae, but that feeling was getting smaller every minute. The person I used to love was dead. She died years before.

 

Even so, I never loved Rae more than I loved myself. I never loved her more than I loved the club. She was third—a shitty thing to admit to myself, but it was true. She never came first. I knew when I rode to the motel that if Jamie and Gigi were the only two people left in the world, I would be all right. I’d find a way. That was how I knew it was real love.

 

I was about to lose it.

 

No! The thought was as clear in my head as if I screamed it out loud. I wouldn’t lose either of them. I would search until the day I died for them if I had to. I’d kill anybody who got in my way, too.

 

I thought about Gigi. Her little face was clear in my head. The day she came to the clubhouse. The way she looked when she saw the gun in her face. The way she cried. The way she grinned when she kicked ass in poker. The way she looked when she slept, with her arms around a stuffed animal. How it felt to hold her in my arms, so light, when she told me about cooking with Jamie. She was always ready to laugh, or sing a song, or play a game. She was the bravest kid I knew. Abandoned by her mom, but she made the best of life with me. She tried so fucking hard to be a good kid. It ripped my chest, thinking of her. I thought my heart would break. She was mine. She needed me.

 

And Jamie. I would’ve closed my eyes if I wasn’t on the back of my bike. I thought back to earlier that day—had it only been hours earlier? In bed together, just the two of us. The way I felt when I was inside her. Like a king. Like I could do anything. Breaking her, making her scream, making her mine. She was mine, nobody else’s. I remembered touching her, tasting her, the sounds she made. How hot and tight she was, how she clawed at my back when I drove myself into her. How she rode me, so hard, so fast. The prim, sweet girl who didn’t like using bad words, bucking like a cowgirl on my cock. I needed more of that, more of her. I couldn’t have her taken away so soon, not when I knew how good it could be.

 

I winced when I remembered laughing off her premonition. I didn’t want to admit at the time how freaked she made me when she told me how scared she was. She should’ve been scared. Hell, I should’ve been scared. I should’ve said goodbye to Gigi before I left, too. I had just walked out without thinking about it. What the fuck was wrong with me? I might never see her again, and I had been so fucking thoughtless.

 

That’s not true. I’ll see her again. We’ll be together again, in a little while, and she’ll be safe.

 

I got to the motel, cutting my lights when I pulled in. What a shithole. I couldn’t believe it was still open, and wondered if maybe it wasn’t. Maybe the power was still on, but nobody stayed there who wasn’t whoring or shooting up. My stomach turned at the thought of my daughter in there. She was too young to see things like that.

 

Hadn’t I seen things like that at her age? Yeah, and she didn’t need to turn out like me. So fucked up, all I did was push people away for most of my life. I could see so many things in ways I never did before. It all made sense. All it took was meeting the perfect woman for me.

 

Too late, though. Just in time to get her into trouble, and lose her. Lucky me. Lucky her.

 

I pulled to the far side of the lot, waiting for the rest of the guys to join me. I saw Jamie’s car parked in front of one of the rooms—the only ground-level room with a light on. Were they still in there? I was just about to leave my bike and go to the door, just to listen, when my phone rang. It was Flash.

 

“I’m almost there,” he said. “And everybody else is, too. Just hold on, okay?”

 

“I have to know if they’re still in there,” I said. “I’ve gotta know.”

 

“We’ll find out when we get there. I’ll be not even five minutes, okay? Just wait. Be smart about this.”

 

“What do you mean?” My eyes never left the door to the room.

 

“I mean if they’re in there with him, I don’t want you going in alone. And if they’re not there, five minutes won’t be enough time for them to get far. If you’re gonna ask The Scarecrow questions, you better damn well believe I wanna be there to help. Got it?”

 

I clenched my teeth, gritting them hard. It was the toughest thing I ever had to do. “Got it,” I spat.

 

“Good.” He hung up. I had to stand there, waiting. All alone.

 

What would happen if The Scarecrow tried to get them out of there before the club showed up? I’d do what I had to do. I’d blow his fucking brains out if it came to that. Same thing for anybody who came to take Gigi or Jamie away. I would do what needed to be done and think about it later. But I wouldn’t think too hard, as long as my girls were both safe.

 

I wasn’t alone for long. Sure enough, not three minutes passed before I saw Lance turn into the parking lot with four bikes behind him. They all came in the way I did—lights off, slowly, not attracting attention. I had to admit to myself that it felt better having my crew with me.