Page 17 of Echoes of Danger
“You know, you’re too smart for your own good,” I say, a hint of pride in my voice as I follow him up the steps. “You’re probably right about Jacob, but that doesn’t mean we need to use the escape plan he’s offering. We should at least give this a chance.”
He hesitates at the door, glancing back at me. “I just don’t want you to feel trapped. You don’t owe these people anything.”
His words hit home, but I force a smile. “I know I don’t. But maybe they’re the ones who can help us feel a little less trapped. Maybe they’re more than just the rumors you’ve heard.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he nods and knocks on the door. Seconds later, the door swings open, and we’re targeted by the stare of one scary-looking man. That is until his eyes land on Jessica.
“You’re with Reynolds,” the man states. “Come on in.”
Stepping aside, he reveals a room full of curious eyes and unfamiliar faces. I take a deep breath, steadying myself.
The house is buzzing with activity, kids running around, women chatting, and men scattered around the room laughing. It’s not as intimidating as I imagined. There’s a sense of community here that I wasn’t expecting.
As we step inside, a tall man with a gray beard and a leather vest that reads “Founder” approaches, a friendly smile on his face. “You must be Del and Eli,” he says, extending a hand. “Names Pop. We’ve been expecting you.”
Elijah steps a little closer to me, his eyes scanning the room. “Is Jacob here yet?”
Pop shakes his head. “Not yet, but he’s on his way. Why don’t you two grab a seat? I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions, and I’d be happy to answer any of them while you wait.”
I glance at Elijah, who gives me a barely perceptible nod. We follow Pop to a table near the back, and as we sit down, I can’t help but notice the curious glances being thrown our way. It’s as if they’re trying to size us up just as much as we are them.
Elijah leans in, his voice low. “I’m still not sure about this, Ma.”
I place a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “Neither am I, but let’s keep an open mind, okay? We’re here now, and running away at the first sign of uncertainty isn’t going to get us anywhere.”
He nods reluctantly, and I can see the struggle in his eyes. He’s caught between the desire to protect me and the need to trust me. I just hope I can give him a reason to do the latter.
Pop sits across from us, leaning back with a relaxed smile. “So, what do you want to know?”
I glance at Elijah, who looks at me expectantly. I clear my throat, feeling oddly out of place. “I guess I’d like to know what kind of club this is. I’ve heard stories, but I’d like to hear it from you.”
Pop’s smile widens. “I appreciate that. We’re not what most people think when they hear the word ‘biker.’ We’re a family. Sure, we’ve got our rough edges, but we take care of our own. And that includes our friends.”
He looks pointedly at Elijah, who frowns but doesn’t say anything.
I take a deep breath, feeling a little of the tension ease from my shoulders. “So, what exactly does that mean for us?”
Pop’s eyes soften, and for the first time since we walked in, I feel like I might be able to relax. “It means that as long as Jacob considers you part of his family, so do we. We don’t turn our backs on family, Del. No matter what.”
“Oh, we’re not his family,” I’m quick to correct. “I’m his nanny, and this is my son.”
“Whatever you say, darlin’,” he smiles. “No matter what.”
I nod slowly, processing his words. “I guess that’s all I needed to hear.”
Elijah shifts beside me, his jaw still tight, but I can see the wheels turning in his head. He’s trying, and that’s all I can ask for right now.
Pop stands, clapping his hands together. “Good. Now, how about a drink?”
I smile gratefully. “I’d love that. Thank you.”
As he walks away, I lean back in my chair with a sleeping Jessica against my chest, glancing at Elijah. “See? Not so bad, right?”
He doesn’t answer, just looks around the room with that same wary expression. But when he turns back to me, there’s a hint of something else in his eyes. Something like hope.
“Maybe not,” he admits quietly. “But I’m still keeping an eye on them.”
I laugh softly, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”