Page 6 of Charging Dodge

Carter moves away from the bathroom door, calling my name. He sounds terrified—his voice cracks, and he’s frozen there, eyes wide as he stares at this guy looming over me. Noah’s huddled right against him, and both of them look like they’re waiting to see if I’m about to fall apart.

“Everything’s fine,” I lie. My voice sounds thin, brittle, but I force it out. I wave the boys over, trying to make it look like this is just a normal, everyday encounter. I need them close—if I can’t see them, I can’t protect them.

Tucked into Carter's side, Noah stays low as they both keep their eyes down. They give the man a wide berth, stepping carefully to avoid him as if he were a live tripwire. Carter watches the guy intently, as if expecting him to draw a weapon at any moment. Circling around us, the boys huddle tightly behind Amelia and me. We stand there completely frozen, a tense knot of people under his suffocating stare.

Carter steps in front of me, putting himself between the biker and the rest of us. He is doing that thing where he forces his shoulders back, trying to be the man he is not yet. “Who are you?” he asks. His voice isn't the growl he wants it to be, just a shaky, uneven mess. He is terrified, and I can see and feel the fear radiating off him, but he is still standing there, refusing to move an inch. Seeing him try so hard to be strong for us is almost harder to watch than the fear itself.

He doesn't budge. He just keeps staring at Carter, his face unreadable. The silence in the lot turns dense. It presses down on us, muffled only by the distant hum of highway traffic. Amelia stays pressed against my side. Her small, shaking frame is a constant reminder of what’s at stake. I just stand there, waiting to see what he does next.

Breaking the convoluted silence, a low, rumbling chuckle rises from deep within his chest. His gaze shifts away from me, settling on Carter with a fresh sense of respect for the fourteen-year-old kid who stood his ground despite his trembling hands. Suddenly, the tension breaks, and the air doesn't feel quite so deadly anymore.

“Name’s Dodge,” he says, finally introducing himself. His voice is deep and steady, and for the first time, it doesn't sound like a threat. It sounds like a lifeline.

“What do you want with us, Dodge?” he asks, gulping. “We don't have anything. No money, no ransom. If you think you're getting a payday out of us, you're looking at the wrong people.”

Dodge throws his head back as a booming laugh escapes him. When he quickly recovers his composure, all traces of amusement vanish from his expression. Looking straight at Carter, he remarks, “Kid, you’ve got some brass balls.”

Scrambling to my feet with a hammering heart, I shove Carter behind me as panic flares. Is this guy about to snap just because Carter talked back? I quickly jump between them, holding my hands up to look as unthreatening as possible, hoping he won't take offense to the gesture. “He didn't mean any disrespect, Dodge,” I say.

CHAPTER FIVE

Dodge

“I know,” I mutter, rubbing a hand across my face in an attempt to clear the fog from my head. The pounding from the night before has been replaced by a steady ache that insists I take on the burden of four strangers who are in danger.

The Saints Outlaws may be one-percenters, but one of our chapter’s firm bylaws is that women and children are off limits. Not everyone runs with those standards, but even though we dabble across that line between good and lawlessness, I can’t in good conscience leave Adalynn to her own devices. Hell, my brothers would be disappointed, but in reality, it’s the thought of my mother giving me one of those looks that has me making the choice I do.

She stands there, chest heaving, putting herself right in front of her brother like she can actually stop someone my size. It’s brave, but stupid.

“Listen to me,” I say, keeping my voice firm and steady. “Stop being so jumpy. I don’t have any intention of harming you or those kids. If that were my goal, it’d be over before you even realized I was here.”

I step back. She’s panicked, but she’s listening. Carter stands rigid behind her, wound so tight I’m surprised he doesn’t snap. He glares at my cut like it’s a venomous snake, his fists balled at his sides. He’s trying to play the tough guy, but I see the tremors he can’t hide.

“Look at the facts. You’re being targeted. The people after you don’t care that you’re just kids who are stranded. Around here, we don’t let folks get tracked like that. I don’t want your money, and I don’t want anything from you. I can get you to a safe spot where you can disappear for a bit, but you need to quit acting like I’m the enemy.”

“We aren’t stranded,” she whispers. It’s a weak defense, her voice raspy and barely there. She squares her shoulders, trying to convince me, and maybe herself, that they’ve got it under control. But it’s a bluff. I look at her, then back at that rust bucket parked in the gravel, shaking my head.

We both know she’s full of shit. Her car might still be running, but anybody can see it’s on its last legs and she’s living on borrowed time. She’s trembling. She’s exhausted, which is obvious with the dark circles under her eyes, yet she’s still planted right in front of her brothers and sister as if she could turn herself into a barricade between me and them.

Noah peeks out from behind his family. His voice shakes as he looks up at me with hopeful eyes and asks, “Where?”

“Shush,” Carter whispers, pulling Noah back into line while keeping his gaze locked on me, tracking my every move.

Muttering under my breath, knowing they’re likely going to refuse my help, I say, “I’m going to read about your death in the obituary column.”

Amelia breaks down completely, her small body trembling as she buries her face into Adalynn’s waist and screams, “I don't want to die, sissy!” The sound cuts straight through me. Terrifying them wasn't my goal, but the truth was something they needed to hear. Yet, watching her shatter like this makes me feel like the villain. I can’t bring myself to face Adalynn. She grips the girl tightly, her eyes directed at me with a mixture of half-loathing and pure ire.

“That was completely uncalled for, Dodge,” Adalynn snarls.

“It was absolutely required. You’re hiding from reality, Adalynn,” I counter.

“We aren’t hiding, Dodge. We’re surviving,” she fires back, her voice cutting.

“This isn’t survival, Adalynn,” I counter. “Hell, you're barely even existing.”

“We’re still alive and breathing, aren’t we?” she shouts.

“Are you truly?” I state. “Because from where I stand, this isn’t living.”