Leather and Legacy

Adora stumbles past the rows of bikes lined up outside, her gaze focused on the light above the large barn-style doors. Find the lights, her Mama told her. Remember the number. That’s the most important thing. She pushes the door open, rattling off the number with each step she takes towards her destination. One, seven, eight, six.

Inside she stops, feeling the door slide closed behind her. Barefoot in pink unicorn pajamas, clutching her white and purple stuffed unicorn, her blonde hair tangled with a few sticks, repeating the number again. She tearfully looks over the patrons dressed in a mix of jeans and leather, surrounded by cigarette smoke. Her big green eyes lock on Stone from across the room, the tallest and strongest in the room. She whispers softly as she takes a single step toward him. “One, seven, eight, six. Mister, please find my mommy.”

Stone swivels his gaze to the door opening, and freezes at the sight of the tiny girl, standing hesitantly in the doorway, staring his way. His eyes narrow instantly, assessing danger as he slides a glance to his right-hand man. “Tank, a kid showing up here late means something bad.”

Laughter and the sound of pool balls clacking grow silent as every grizzled man in leather turns their attention to the child.

She tearfully hugs her unicorn closer at their intense stares and backs up a step, pressing up against the door she just entered.

“You’re right about that, Stone.”

Adora’s lips tremble, crocodile tears sliding down her cheeks. “Daddy’s hurting Mommy. She pushed me out the window. She said to find the number, so I did. One, seven, eight, six. Then I was to run to the lights. But there were no lights… Not for a long time, but then I saw this light.”

Stone strides forward, pulling off his leather jacket as he crouches down to her level. He wraps it gently around her tiny body, trying not to scare her, keeping his voice low and soothing. “You’re safe here, sweetheart. Nobody’s gonna hurt you. Now… what is that number you keep saying?”

Sobbing, Adora steps into his arms. “It was at the house where Mommy is. Please help my mommy. She's very hurt.”

“Viper. Come here,” Stone calls, as Tank moves in beside him. His voice softens as he addresses the child, his eyes zeroing in on the blood on the floor. “We’ll find your mom. What’s your name, little one?”

“Adora.”

“What’s your mommy’s name?”

“Mommy.” She blinks up at him in confusion.

Stone’s mouth twitches at her reply. “Alright. Do you know why your daddy is hurting your mommy?”

“No, he’s mad. He keeps yelling. Telling her she should’ve minded her own business. Then he said he had to deal with her. He spanked her hard, and she fell. Then his phone rang, and he left, but… he said he’d come back. Mommy waited, then pushed me through the window. She couldn’t fit. Only I could.”

Stone exchanges a glance with Tank, then jerks his chin at Viper. “Alright, little one. Viper’s gonna stay with you while we find your mom. She’s also going to look at your feet and bandage them for you. Is that okay?”

Adora nods. “I walked a long time, and my feet hurt, but Mommy told me. I needed to find the light.”

Viper approaches, dressed in ripped jeans and a button-down top, tied just below her breasts. A leather jacket covers it, with the emblem of a violet-eyed wolf across the back. She kneels down and pokes the unicorn with a gentle smile. “Is this your guard dog? Is he any good in a fight?”

Adora sniffles, holding it up. “It’s not a dog. It’s a unicorn. She’s very good ’cause she has a horn. It’s pointy.”

“Does she have a name?”

“Marshmallow.”

“That is a really nice name. Are you hungry?”

“A little bit.”

“Alright. Let’s get you some food then while the boys go find your mom.”

Adora looks up at Tank, who nods and steps away from Stone’s arms and into Viper’s arms. “Thank you.”

“Hey, you're welcome Monkey.” Viper lifts her up and carries her back to the bar, setting her on the counter. “What do you want to eat?”

Adora looks around at the plates on the counter, zeroing in on the nachos. “Can I have the chips?”

“Nachos? Sure. I can have a small plate made for you.” She leans through the pass-through into the kitchen. “Havoc. Pint-size order of nachos for Adora here. Knox, I need the first aid kit.”

“Coming right up.”

Viper smiles at Adora and points to her feet. “Can I look at them?”

Adora hugs her unicorn, eyeing her warily. “Is it going to hurt more?”

“No sweetie. I am going to make them feel better. I need to clean them, and then I will wrap them with pretty bandages. How does that sound?”

Adora perks up. “What kind of pretty bandages? Mommy has unicorn ones when I get a boo-boo.”

Viper boops her nose and carefully picks up her left foot. “Well, we don’t have unicorn ones, but I promise, tomorrow when the stores open, I will see if I can find you some. These are different colors though, so we can make you a rainbow, or if you like, I have purple and white wraps, so you can match Marshmallow. We can even put some on her feet too.”

“Yes please. I want to match Marshmallow! And she wants to match me.”

As Knox steps in beside her, first-aid kit in hand, she glances down at the foot. “I will get a small bowl of warm water. You are going to want to wash them first.”

“And purple and white wraps.”

“On it, Viper.”

While Viper takes care of Adora, Stone straightens, gaze sweeping the clubhouse. His voice carries across the pack-house, drawing everyone’s attention. “Wolves. We have a mother to rescue. Tank, Rogue, Fang. You’re with me. The rest hold the line.”

Sparrow jumps up from a table. “What about me, Stone? I can help.”

Stone swivels his gaze over to Sparrow and pins him down. The young and reckless member of their pack and one just learning the ropes. “Not this time, Sparrow. We need a controlled environment. In and out.”

Sparrow’s shoulders slump in defeat. “You promise?”

“Yes, watch over the kid. Daddy’s gonna come looking. Do not let him through those doors without a warrant. Not even a glance. Understood?”

Sparrow straightens. “Yeah. Thanks, Stone. I can do that.”

Stone gives a single nod, his gaze flicking to the girl perched on the bar before he turns. Outside, gravel crunches beneath his boots as he walks the line of chrome and steel. He stops at his bike; black as midnight, heavier than most, it’s a machine that matches him: solid, dangerous, built for command. His hand brushes the handlebars, but he doesn’t mount. Instead, jaw tight, he scans the shadows of the night, with a half moon lighting the sky. Somewhere out there, a woman is locked up, wondering about her child. He’d find her. Or burn the world trying.

Feeling the others standing behind him, he spins to face them, reading the same anger and determination in their stances.

“What’s the plan, Stone?”

“Not sure. Considering how far out the pack-house is, we don’t know how long it took the girl to get here. Or if the number she gave us is even correct.” Stone pulls his phone out and searches for the address, noticing it’s about three miles away from them. “According to this, there is one about eight minutes away. Shit, that means the girl has been walking for at least two hours.”

“She said her mama pushed her out the window,” Fang mutters. “How the hell did she make it here barefoot?”

Tank lets out a low whistle. “Kid’s tough. Bleeding feet, scared half to death, and she still found us.”

“She found me,” Stone corrects, running a hand over the bars of his bike. “That means the house isn’t far, but with her travel time, it’s possible the old man’s back already, and we’ll be walking into a hornet’s nest.”

“Let’s hope he’s not then.”

“If he has, we need to tread carefully. I will approach first. If there is a car in the driveway, I will click the alarm fob twice. Two quick chirps, enough for you but not for the occupant in the house. If for some reason, he comes out, I will make up some excuse as to why I am there. Wrong address or something. Park your bikes back along the road and scout as wolves. Follow the girl’s scent if you can. Find the window because we might need to come back. If not, follow me in. Rogue, you pick the locks, Tank and I will go in and find her. Fang, you keep watch. The same to you. Two quick chirps if a car looks like it’s going to pull onto the driveway.”

“Got it, Stone.”

Stone reaches over to the bike next to him and takes the helmet, tucking it into his saddlebag, knowing his sister won't care that he's borrowing it. Pulling his own on, he swings his leg over and settles on his bike.

“Let’s roll out.” He pulls his key out and starts it, feeling the machine rumble under his touch, like it feels the storm brewing. He guides his bike out of the lot, and onto the main road, heading toward the farmhouse, breathing deeply of the crisp cool air, and the wind on his face.

The others mount up, and pull in behind him, each sharing a look as they follow their Alpha into the unknown.

Stone finds the address on the side of an old metal mailbox that looks like it’s seen better days. Turning the bike onto the dirt road, gearing it down to a low rumble. After two hundred meters, he spots the farmhouse sitting in the center of fields, surrounded by trees. He grumbles beneath his breath, anger flooding him once more at what the child had gone through to find them.