Saving Scout

by Khloe Wren

  “Can we come in? I need your help.”

  With a nod, I moved to allow the three of them to enter my home. I was still getting used to this big old house being mine. I'd come home after leaving the USMC last year and my folks had promptly told me now I was back, I could take over the shop and they were retiring down to Florida. Suddenly, I'd found myself with a bike shop to run and a big old house to take care of. So far it was working out all right, except for this house that felt so empty with just me rattling around in it. It was also handy that I liked bikes, liked them so much I was part of the local motorcycle club, the Charon MC. I'd prospected in when I'd turned eighteen, and now nine years later, which had included my four year stint in the USMC, I was an enforcer for the club and was working my way to hopefully one day becoming president.

  Flicking on the safety, I tucked my gun into the back of my pants as I led my unexpected guests into the kitchen where Ron ushered the girls to sit at my table before he stood behind them. The pair sure were pretty. One blonde, one brunette. The blonde seemed rather subdued, as though life had kicked the shit out of her and she wasn't sure if it was worth the effort to keep going. The brunette on the other hand, she was a fighter and had caught my attention from the moment I'd looked into her eyes when she’d walked into my house. Her chin was up and she had her jaw clenched. I could tell from her eyes that she'd been crying recently, but her gaze had a glint to it that said she was not going to lie down and take whatever the fuck it was that had just landed in her lap.

  “So, Ron, care to tell me what has you in my home at five in the morning with two pretty girls in tow?”

  “These are my foster daughters, Sarah” he nodded to the blonde, “and Marie.” He nodded at the brunette. “And they screwed up last night. Bad.”

  I ran my gaze over the pair again. I doubted either of them were over twenty-one. “They don't look old enough to have fucked up enough that you need my help. What happened?”

  “The Iron Hammers.”

  I groaned at those three words. The Iron Hammers MC were a bastard of a club that ran out of Galveston, and they were the type of club that gave MCs a shitty rep. I could only imagine what the girls had been through with them. I focused on the two, zeroing in on the brunette, Marie.

  “What'd you do?”

  “Ah, we got invited out to a party at their clubhouse. Soon after we arrived, we got cornered. Um, they held us down to drug us up.” She cleared her throat. “We managed to escape later, after they'd all passed out. Dad says we can't stay in town now, that they'll come for us if we do.”

  I wasn't fucking born yesterday. I knew there was a whole lot more to that story than what she was telling me. But they both looked like they'd been through enough already and Ron was right. They couldn't stay in Galveston, the Hammers would find them.

  “He's right. It's no longer safe for you to be anywhere near the Iron Hammers. Good news is your pops here knew where it would be safe for you. Those fuckers won't step foot in Bridgewater. You'll be safe here. And you can live here with me until you find your feet. My folks moved out and left me this huge fucking house to live in. If the pair of you help me keep it clean and tidy, maybe cook a meal or two for me, we'll call it even. Two things I need to know― do the Hammers know your names and do either of you have jobs?”

  “We didn't have ID with us, and they never asked our names. And I'm a waitress at a small family-owned diner in the center of town and Sarah's a cashier at Kroger.”

  At least they wouldn't need new IDs. That made things simpler. I ran a palm over my head, trying to think of work options.

  “I'm not sure what we can offer you for work. I'll have a chat with my prez in a couple hours and see what we can come up with to fit your skills.”

  Ron moved from where he stood behind the girls toward me.

  “Thank you for this, and you let me know if they need anything at all.”

  I took the business card he held out. I could see in his expression this was breaking his heart. These girls might be foster and not his by blood, but he clearly loved them and to have to send them away like this was tearing him up.

  “I promise I'll take good care of them for you. You did the right thing getting them out of Galveston immediately.”

  He nodded, then cleared his throat. “They've got a few bags in the car. I'll just go grab them, then I need to head back to Sue. She's a mess over all this.”

  “I'll come give you a hand. Girls? Stay in the house.”

  I doubted the Iron Hammers had followed their vehicle, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. That, and I wouldn't mind a couple minutes alone with Ron. As I closed the door behind me and followed him to his car, I spoke up.

  “You and Sue are welcome to come visit whenever you like. It's not safe for the girls to go back to Galveston, but considering the Hammers don't know who the girls are, you and Sue should be safe enough to come and visit.”

  He nodded absently as he opened the trunk and leaned in to grab one of the bags inside.

  “They're good girls. Both of them. They've never caused us any trouble.”

  “Until now.”

  He chuffed a laugh as he handed me a suitcase.

  “Yeah. Until now.”

  A thought occurred to me. Neither had mentioned school when I'd asked about employment, but just because they weren't at school didn't mean they were over eighteen.

  “How old are they? Are they’re adults? I don't want to get accused of kidnapping or some shit with this.”

  “Yes, they're legally adults. Both have had their eighteenth birthdays in the last six months. You won't get in any trouble with the authorities for having them in your home.”

  That was a relief. I was more than happy to help out Ron with this shit, but it was a fucking relief I could do it legally.

  After we both loaded up with their bags, we headed back inside. I called out as we passed the kitchen.

  “C'mon, girls. I'll show you your new rooms.”

  Thankfully, my folks had left a lot of their furniture behind so the spare bedrooms had beds and wardrobes in them. The girls and Ron followed me as I led the way toward the back of the house. The two guest rooms were separated by a bathroom, and I showed them all three rooms.

  “Pick whichever room you like. Take your time getting settled in and maybe try to catch some shuteye. You've had a shit night by the sounds of things. I need to head over to the shop in a couple of hours, but I'll drop back for lunch and we'll chat some more then about what's gonna happen from here on out. Okay?”

  They both nodded, but before they could even enter a room, Ron spoke up that he needed to head off, so we all followed him to the front of the house. Both Sarah and Marie were crying when they hugged the man. I shook his hand then he was gone. And I had two new housemates. Including one that had my cock twitching for her. Fuck.

  “Will we have a say in what we're gonna do for work?”

  Marie had wiped the tears from her face and was glaring at me like I was going to suggest she eat nails or something.

  “You're both adults and are free to live however you like. However, Ron was right when he said that you can't stay in Galveston. Unless you want to end up with the Hammers?”

  I cocked a brow as the color drained from both their faces.

  “Yeah, didn't think so. The only reason I'm suggesting I ask my prez about work is to make your move here easier. If you gotta go through interviews and shit, without references, it could take you a long fucking time to find something. Ron brought you here so I could keep you protected and take care of you both. Let me do what I just promised I would.”

  “Thank you.”

  They both whispered the words at the same time.

  “You're welcome. We've all made shitty choices in life. I'm just glad you both got out of that shit hole in one piece. Now, go on back and pick a room and settle in for a nap. I'm gonna go get ready for work and head out. I'll bring some food back with me for lunch so you don't need
to worry about making anything.”

  I stayed standing in my hallway, hands on my hips as I watched them walk back to their rooms. My gaze lowered to Marie's ass as it swayed with her movements, and my cock hardened and throbbed for some attention. With a shake of my head I made my way to my own room. She was nine fucking years younger than me. And about as innocent as you could get. No way would she ever want some fucked up veteran like me. I needed to keep my hands off, and hopefully before too long both girls would have jobs and move out into their own places. Remove the temptation so I wouldn’t cave and go after what I shouldn't want.

  CHAPTER 1

  29th November 2017

  Marie

  Was this man for real?

  “You can't be serious!”

  Over the twenty-five years since I'd first met Scout, he'd never before asked me to do something like this. Did he truly not understand how I felt about him? How much it was going to hurt me to see this girl who'd had the one thing I desperately wanted, probably many times, every day in my shop?

  “C'mon, Marie. I don't understand the problem. With Zara only working part time, you need more reliable staff. I can guarantee Missy, I mean Mercedes, will be. Now that Tiny's claimed her as his old lady, she won't up and leave you like all those teenagers do. And she won't need much training, she used to work in the kitchen back at that commune she was raised in.”

  With a growl, I spun away from the infuriating man and started to pace the length of my small living room. He knew I was a sucker for a sob story, and Mercedes sure as hell had one. I'd heard the tale from Zara. Her mother had fled from Mexico with her when she was a toddler, and they'd gotten caught up with a cult-like commune. She'd run from the place after she'd found her mother murdered and had landed on the Charon MC's doorstep―where she became one of their whores. One of the lucky women who got to touch and be touched by Scout, the president of the Charon MC and the man who’d held my heart for over twenty years.

  I rubbed over the ache in my chest. You'd think after all this time I would have gotten over my crush on this man. I wasn't a young woman anymore, the hero worship I'd suffered with when I'd first came to Bridgewater was long past. Maybe his asking this of me would be enough to get my stupid heart to cut the shit and move on. Because for him to ask, with no clue how much it would hurt, made it clear he didn't give a damn about me. At least not like that.

  Frustrated, I turned back to face him. Even all these years later he was a good looking man. His hair and beard had more gray than dark brown these days, the lines around his eyes more pronounced, but he still made my ovaries sigh. Even with that stupid bandana he insisted on wearing all the damn time.

  “When was the last time you fucked her?”

  He jerked back, his eyes widening. Yeah, I didn't curse often anymore, but what else could I call what he did with all those young women? He sure as hell didn't make love to them. At least I hoped like hell he didn't.

  “Ah, I'm not sure. Six months, maybe. She's not a club whore anymore. She and Tiny are exclusive. Why are you getting so worked up over this?”

  It was my turn to look shocked. Was he really that clueless?

  “Why, indeed.” I shook my head and took a deep breath. “Fine, whatever. Get her to come around tomorrow and I'll give her a trial run, see how she goes. I can't promise more than that.”

  “Thanks, babe.”

  A smile stretched his mouth and his body relaxed, which just pissed me off even more.

  “Now you've got what you came for, get out of my house. And you don't need to come with her tomorrow. I promise I won't bite her or anything.”

  His face returned to an expression of confusion and shock, but I was so far past caring about his feelings. Walking by him, I opened my front door and waited for him to get the hint and get the hell out of my house.

  “Marie? What the fuck is wrong?”

  Glaring at him, I tried to formulate words to express what he just asked of me but couldn't come up with anything that would say what I wanted to.

  “Scout, the fact you need me to explain is exactly why I'm not going to. Get out of my hair already. I’ve got pies to bake.”

  With a frown, he slowly made his way toward me, and when he reached a palm out, I tensed and glared harder at him until he dropped his hand and slunk out the door. The second he passed through it, I had it shut and bolted. Then I slid to the floor and let the tears fall as silent sobs shook my body.

  I was turning forty-three years old on Sunday, dammit. Way too old to be crushing on a man who didn't want me. Somehow the years had all passed me by. Now I was getting older and still all alone. No husband, no kids. No grandkids. Zara was such a sweetheart, she'd told me I was her little daughter Cleo's adoptive gramma. Looking down at my stomach, I spread my fingers over the area. What would it have felt like to have a life growing within me? My cycles were still regular, so technically it wasn't too late yet. At least in theory. But if I kept waiting around for Scout, it surely would be before he woke up and smelled the roses.

  Taking another deep breath, I wiped my tears away and rose from the floor to head to the bathroom. After splashing some cold water over my face and drying off, I headed to my kitchen. I'd pour all my stress and worry into making some extra pies for the shop. For as long as I could remember, I'd always found solace in baking so I prayed it helped me today.

  The longer I spent whipping and mixing, the calmer I felt about my newest employee. I hadn't met Mercedes before, but from how Zara spoke about her, she was nervous around the other old ladies, and didn't really know how to act out in the world. My heart gave a jolt for a different reason. Wondering how old she was, I pondered how to best help her. If she wasn't used to dealing with strangers, she may not do well on the counter where she had to take orders, but hopefully she'd be fine with delivering orders to start with. There were often several of the Charon men in the cafe so that should help her feel more at ease.

  However, if I found out she wasn't exclusively with Tiny, that she was still having sex with whoever caught her eye, she'd be out so fast she wouldn't see the door before it hit her on the ass.

  Scout

  After leaving Marie's house, I headed back to the clubhouse. I had no fucking clue why she was so damn upset with me. I thought she'd like being able to help out a girl like Mercedes. She really was a sweet kid, and much better suited to waitressing than whoring. Not that she wasn't good at it. Nope, that girl had some serious skills. Tiny was a lucky fucker to have her all to himself. But she had a sweet nature that deserved more out of life than that of a whore. She deserved a man of her own, a family to take care of, and a job she could be proud of.

  Marie did too. But she'd never settled down with anyone. Come to think of it, I couldn't recall her even dating over the years. That had me frowning. Surely she hadn't stayed single for the last, what, twenty five or so years since she'd come to town. I frowned and adjusted my bandana. Why the fuck had she stayed single? Surely it wasn't because...

  “What's got you looking so worried?”

  I dropped my hands down to the desk as Bulldog, my best friend and VP, came in, shut the door and made himself comfortable on the couch.

  “So many things, brother. Would you like a list?”

  Bulldog chuckled. “It's been like that lately, hasn't it?”

  “Just a touch. Just hung up with Viper. They're gonna up the use of the bunker.”

  Viper was the president of the Satan's Cowboys MC. One of the biggest MCs in Texas, they were firmly above the Charon MC on the food chain and we needed to make sure they were happy with us. That included helping them run their shit through our fucking town. I didn't like it. Not one bit. But they'd found out about the old bunker out on the gun range that some doomsdayer had built way back when, and wanted it as a layover for their weapons and drug runs. The Charons had always kept Bridgewater drug free, and I'd made sure Viper understood that just because they were running their shit through our town, I didn't want to see any of it
stopping to stay here. Thankfully, he'd agreed. But it still pissed me off to have so much illegal shit happening so close to us, and us helping out with it. For the most part, the Charons were legit. We earned our money through the bar, gym and bike shop. Sure, we did the odd weapons run for the Cowboys and earned our piece from that. But until last April, it had been once or twice a year. Now it was going to be more than once a fucking month and that shit made me nervous.

  “Ah, fuck. Not sure that's a good move. They start putting too much shit through there, people are gonna start to notice. Once that happens, it won't take long before the authorities are sniffing around out there.”

  “I know, brother. And I told Viper that. Not that it fucking matters. They'll do what they want.”

  He nodded. “You been to see Marie yet?”

  “Yeah, she's gonna give Mercedes a go. But she's not happy about it for some fucking reason.”

  That made him laugh. He tried to cover it with a cough, but I knew the bastard.

  “What's so fucking funny?”

  “You being so fucking clueless. It's hilarious.”

  With a huff, I got up and grabbed the bottle of whiskey I kept over on a shelf and two glasses. Not that Bulldog deserved a drink after that comment. As I poured, I raised my eyebrow at him, silently asking him to settle the fuck down and explain.

  “Oh, man. Seriously? You don't get it?”

  “You sound like Marie. What do I not get, that everyone else fucking does?”

  “That woman has had her heart set on your stupid ass since the moment she came into town. And you've just asked her to take care of a girl she knows you've fucked. Marie might not be officially part of the club, but she'd hear enough talk at the cafe, especially with Zara working down there, to know that Mercedes was a club whore. Do I need to keep explaining this shit to you? We all figured you were into her too, just being a stubborn jackass for some fucked-up reason. But maybe we've all had it wrong all this time. Do you really not care for her at all? Because I've seen how your eyes follow her around. Don't even think of fucking lying to me.”