Hawk nods. "It does. " "They help me into my chair. Hawk pushes me toward the parking lot. We'll follow you home, he says. Make sure you get there safe.
My mom won't like it, I warn. Hawk's mouth quirks in a half smile. I've survived worse than angry moms. I believe that, too. As we cross the parking lot, Deputy Harrove's cruiser pulls in.
He gets out, adjusts his belt, and approaches us. Skipping school, Eli? He asks. His voice is friendly, but his eyes are cold. His wheelchair was sabotaged, Hawk says before I can answer.
Could have been seriously hurt. Deputy Hargrove looks at my chair, then back at Hawk. And you just happen to be here? He asks. We're keeping an eye on the boy.
Hawk says since no one else will. Deputy Hargrove steps closer to Hawk. I'm warning you, Jensen. Stay out of town business. The safety of a child is everyone's business.
Hawk replies. His voice is level. Not yours. Deputy Hargrove says, "Not in my town. " Hawk doesn't back down. Is it still your town, Rick, or is it Judge Finches?
Deputy Hargrove's face flushes red. You're crossing a line. No, Hawk says the line got crossed when that boy was left bleeding on the pavement. The line got crossed when his attackers walked free again. They stare at each other, neither blinking.
Last warning, Deputy Hargrove says finally. Back off or I'll have grounds to shut down that clubhouse of yours. He returns to cruiser and drives away slowly, watching us in his rearview mirror. He won't help, will he? Hawk looks down at me.
No, Eli, he won't. Why not? Some men forget what they're supposed to stand for. Hawk says they protect power instead of people. And what do you stand for?
I ask. Hawk's hand settles on my shoulder. Strong, steady, loyalty, he says. Brotherhood and making sure the weak aren't prey for the strong. I think about that all the way home.
Mom is waiting when we arrive. Her car is in the parking lot, which means she left work early. That's not good. We need them on Eli. She calls from the apartment doorway.
What happened? The school called. I wheel forward. My chair broke. Hawk fixed it.
Mom looks past me to the biker. Her expression is a mix of fear, anger, and something else. Gratitude, maybe. Thank you, she says to Hawk again. But Eli isn't supposed to leave school without permission.
My fault, ma'am, Hawk says. Thought it better to get him home safe than wait for bureaucracy. Mom's eyes narrow at the word bureaucracy. She works for the city clerk's office. She knows all about waiting.
Still, she says, but her voice has lost its edge. Mom, I say. Someone messed with my chair on purpose. They took out a bolt. Her face pales.
Who would? The same ones, I say. Always the same ones. Mom's hands clench into fists. I'm calling the school right now.
This has gone far enough. It won't help. I say I have to try. She snaps, then softer. I have to try some.
Hawk clears his throat. Mrs. Barnes, may I speak with you in private? Mom hesitates, then nods. Eli, go inside.