Part 4 of 6
The garage behind the clubhouse became Ava’s first classroom.
It smelled like oil, hot metal, rubber and old tools.
Bones handed her a wrench before she had time to be nervous.
“You know engines?”
“Not really.”
“Good.”
Ava frowned.
“Good?”
“Means I don’t have to unteach bad habits.”
For the first time in days, Ava almost laughed.
Bones showed her how to check fluids.
How to listen for trouble in an engine.
How to remove one part without damaging three others.
How patience could sometimes work better than force.
“Your hands are small,” he told her.
Ava looked down at them.
“That supposed to be an insult?”
“No.”
He pointed beneath the engine.
“Advantage. You can reach places I can’t.”
For two hours, Ava forgot almost everything else.
She forgot the threatening message.
The black SUV.
Her father’s hidden past.
Danny sitting in temporary care.
She focused on broken things.
And how they could sometimes be put back together.
At noon, Bull called her into the clubhouse.
Forty men filled the room.
Ava stopped in the doorway.
Reaper sat at the head of the long table in a wheelchair.
He looked pale, but stronger than he had in the hospital.
His injured leg was elevated.
His eyes were sharp.
“Come in, kid.”
Ava stepped inside.
Reaper looked around the room.
“Ava Wright saved my life two nights ago.”
No one spoke.
“She climbed into a ditch during a snowstorm and pulled a motorcycle off me when she could have kept walking.”
He paused.
“She is also the daughter of Michael Wright.”
A low murmur moved through the room.
“Seventeen years ago, Michael took a bullet meant for me.”
“He never asked for anything in return.”
Ava looked around.
Every face had turned toward her.
Reaper continued.
“Her little brother is in the system.”
“His foster father hurt him.”
“She wants custody.”
Bull stepped forward.
“I propose Ava becomes an official support case.”
Ava looked at him.
He kept going.
“I act as legal co-guardian.”
“She gets the apartment above the garage.”
“She works here.”
“She gets schooling.”
“And when the state asks whether she has support, we stand behind her.”
Reaper looked around the room.
“All in favor?”
One hand rose.
Then another.
Then ten.
Then all of them.
Not one man voted against her.
Reaper looked at Ava.
“It’s done.”
“Welcome to the family, kid.”
Something opened inside Ava.
Not broke.
Opened.
Like she had been holding her breath for seventeen years and had only now remembered how breathing was supposed to feel.
That evening, Bull drove her to the group home where Danny had been placed.
It was a plain brick building with a small playground and windows that were supposed to look welcoming.
Katherine Brennan met Ava near the entrance.
“He’s been asking for you constantly.”
Ava swallowed.
“Can I see him?”
“Yes.”
Katherine’s expression softened.
“Just keep things calm.”
“He’s been through a lot.”
Danny sat in the common room watching cartoons with several other children.
He looked smaller than Ava remembered.
His clothes hung loosely.
His hair was messy.
His eyes looked tired.
Then he saw her.
“Ava!”
He ran across the room.
Ava barely had time to bend before he slammed into her waist.
She wrapped both arms around him.
“Hey, little man.”
“I’m here.”
Danny shook against her.
Ava felt it through his shoulders.
She wanted to scream.
Instead, she held him tighter.
“Did he hurt you bad?” she whispered.
Danny pulled back.
“Not too bad.”
“He just gets mad.”
Ava felt something hot rise in her chest.
Then Danny added:
“Miss Katherine says I don’t have to go back.”
“You don’t.”
Ava looked directly at him.
“I promise.”
“Are you staying here too?”
“No.”
Danny’s face fell.
Ava quickly shook her head.
“But I’m working on getting us a place.”
“Just you and me?”
“Yeah.”
Danny stared at her.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Ava forced a smile.
“I just have to get everything in order.”
“But I’m not leaving you here long.”
She hugged him until visiting hours ended.
On the drive back, Bull glanced at her.
“You good?”
“No.”
Bull nodded.
“Fair answer.”
Ava stared through the window.
“But I will be.”
The next morning, Bull took her to meet Jordan Cole.
Jordan was the lawyer the club kept on retainer.
Her office was small, neat and direct.
She listened while Ava explained Danny.
The foster home.
The custody situation.
The clubhouse.
Bull’s offer to become co-guardian.
When Ava finished, Jordan folded her hands.
“Here’s reality.”
“You’re seventeen.”
Ava nodded.
“The state does not usually place an eight-year-old child with another minor.”
“I know.”
“But…”
Ava leaned forward.
Jordan continued.
“With Bull acting as co-guardian, stable housing, income, schooling and references, you have a real case.”
“How long?”
“If everything goes well, six to eight weeks.”
Ava shook her head immediately.
“Danny doesn’t have eight weeks.”
Jordan’s expression softened.
“I know.”
“But if we rush this, the state gets reasons to say no.”
She leaned forward.
“We document everything.”
“We show up.”
“We build a record nobody can dismiss.”
“We make them understand that you’re not a kid pretending to be a parent.”
“You’re his sister trying to keep him safe.”
Ava nodded slowly.
Then Jordan reached for another file.
“There’s something else.”
Ava’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
Jordan opened the folder.
“Your father, Michael Wright, testified in a case seventeen years ago.”
Ava went still.
“What case?”
“A detective named Kyle Garrett killed an informant outside a bar in Tacoma.”
Jordan tapped the file.
“Your father was a witness.”
“His testimony helped put Garrett away.”
Ava stared at her.
“Bull said the man who shot Reaper had friends with badges.”
Jordan nodded.
“Kyle Garrett died in prison two years ago.”
Ava exhaled.
Then Jordan slid a photograph across the desk.
A man with silver hair stared back at her.
Cold eyes.
Police uniform.
Ava looked up.
“Who is this?”
Jordan’s voice lowered.
“Kyle Garrett’s brother.”
She paused.
“Russell Garrett.”
“Chief of police here in Billings.”
Ava felt the room turn cold.
Jordan continued.
“If he knows who you are, be careful.”
“Men like him don’t forget.”
Three days later, Ava was working beside Bones in the garage.
He was showing her how to rebuild a carburetor.
Then the doors burst open.
Officers in tactical gear flooded the building.
“Hands where we can see them!”
Bones raised both hands.
“Easy.”
Bull emerged from the office.
“I want to see the warrant.”
An officer handed him a document.
Bull scanned it.
His jaw tightened.
“This is garbage.”
Then another man stepped through the doorway.
Silver hair.
Cold eyes.
Perfect uniform.
Ava recognized him immediately.
The photograph from Jordan’s desk had just walked into the garage.
Chief Russell Garrett.
His eyes moved through the room.
Then stopped on Ava.
He smiled.
And walked directly toward her.
The man connected to the case that had forced her father to disappear had finally found Michael Wright’s daughter.