The Woman They Couldn’t Walk Away From
The first thing Elin Hart became aware of when she woke was the scent of antiseptic mixed with aged wood, motor oil, and coffee.
This wasn’t a hospital. The ceiling stretched too high above her, lined with exposed beams, and somewhere nearby she could hear men speaking in low, careful voices, as if afraid to wake her. Pain shot through her side the moment she tried to move, and a soft gasp escaped before she could stop it.
A chair scraped against the floor.
A broad-shouldered man with a weathered face and streaks of silver in his beard leaned into view. He wore a leather vest, heavy boots, and an expression that seemed hard at first—until she caught the concern in his eyes.
“Take it easy,” he said. “You’re safe, but you’re still healing.”
Elin blinked, trying to piece everything together. The last thing she remembered was the diner—the terrified little boy, the chaos, the noise, and the split second when instinct pushed her to act before she could think. She remembered the pain. Then nothing.
She looked past him—and went still.
Several bikers stood around the room. Some by the doorway, others near the windows, all watching quietly. None looked relaxed, but none seemed threatening either. They looked like men standing guard.
“Where am I?” she whispered.
The man pulled a metal chair closer and sat. “Outside Wichita Falls,” he said. “Private place. We moved you when we heard the hospital wasn’t safe anymore.”
Elin stared at him. “You moved me?”
He gave a single nod. “Name’s Wade Mercer. My people made sure a doctor could keep checking on you. You’ve been out a while, but you’re getting stronger.”
Her breath caught when she noticed a small figure asleep beside the bed.
The same little boy from the diner.
His knees were curled awkwardly, one hand still resting on the blanket near her arm, as if he refused to let go—even in his sleep.
“He stayed?” she asked.
Wade glanced over. “Wouldn’t leave.”
