Page 3 of Jax & Knox

He's wailing now, his little face bright red, and I bounce him gently, trying to soothe him. But he's hot and tired and hungry and I don't blame him for being pissed off.

I hear the rumble of engines before I see them.

Two motorcycles. Big, loud Harleys that sound like thunder as they approach. My stomach drops. I've seen enough crime shows to know that a woman alone on the side of the road is a target. And I've got a baby with me.

I set Owen back in his car seat, he screams louder, and grab the tire iron from the trunk. My hands are sweating as I grip it, holding it low by my side.

The motorcycles slow down and pull onto the shoulder behind my car. Two men get off, both wearing black leather cuts with patches I can't quite make out in the fading light. They're big. Tall. Intimidating as hell.

"Stay back," I say, my voice shaking. I raise the tire iron. "I mean it. Stay the fuck back."

The taller one, dark hair, green eyes, a face that's too handsome for his own good, holds up his hands in a placating gesture.

"Easy," he says. His voice is deep, smooth. The kind of voice that could talk you into anything. "We're not here to hurt you."

"Bullshit."

The other one, shorter, leaner, with intense hazel eyes and a scar cutting through his left eyebrow, steps forward. I tighten my grip on the tire iron.

"We saw your car smoking," he says. His voice is rougher, more clipped. "Thought you might need help."

"I don't need your help."

"Yeah?" The green-eyed one tilts his head, his gaze flicking to the smoking hood of my car. "Because it looks like you do."

Owen's screams reach a fever pitch and I glance back at him, my chest tightening. He's so red. So upset. And I can't do anything to help him.

"Look," the green-eyed one says, his tone softening. "I'm Jax. This is my brother, Knox. We're not going to hurt you or your kid. But you can't stay out here. It's not safe."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine." Knox's voice is flat, matter-of-fact. "Your car's dead. You've got a baby. And it's going to be dark soon."

I hate that he's right. I hate that I'm in this position. I hate that I have to rely on strangers because I have no other choice.

"What do you want?" I ask, my voice breaking.

Jax's expression softens. "We want to help. That's it."

I don't believe him. I can't afford to believe him. But I also can't afford to stay here.

Knox pulls out a phone and makes a call. "Yeah, it's Knox. We've got a situation on Highway 94, about ten miles out. Car broke down. We need a tow." He pauses, listening. "Yeah. And call Lucy and Tessa. Tell them to bring the truck."

He hangs up and looks at me. "Tow truck's on the way. So are a couple of friends. Women," he adds, like that's supposed to make me feel better.

"I don't have money for a tow," I say quietly.

"Don't worry about it," Jax says. "It's covered."

"I don't take charity."

"It's not charity. It's help. There's a difference."

I want to argue. I want to tell them to fuck off and leave me alone. But Owen is still screaming and I'm so tired and I don't know what else to do.

So I lower the tire iron.

"Okay," I whisper. "Okay."