Page 13 of Razor’s Redemption

"Same address as last night?" I ask.

"Yeah. The blue house with the white porch."

I know. I could drive there with my eyes closed at this point, could navigate every turn and stoplight between here and there without thinking. But I just nod and pull away from the curb.

She's quiet for the first few blocks, looking out the window. I can feel the exhaustion rolling off her in waves, the kind that comes from working two jobs, never sleeping enough and holding everything together through sheer force of will.

"How was your day?" I ask, just to break the silence.

"Long. We were short-staffed at the diner, so I covered an extra table section. Then the offices tonight, one of the lawyers left his trash everywhere. Like, everywhere. I spent twenty minutes just picking up wadded paper off the floor."

"Sounds like he's an asshole."

She laughs, surprised. "Yeah. He really is. But the paycheck clears, so." She shrugs. "How was yours?"

"Fixed a fence. Did inventory. Typical prospect stuff."

"What does a prospect do exactly?"

"Whatever needs doing. Grunt work, mostly. Security rotations, supply runs, maintenance. Prove you're willing to work and that you fit with the brothers. Eventually, if they vote you in, you get patched and become a full member."

"How long does that take?"

"Depends. Could be six months, could be a year. However long it takes to prove yourself."

"Do you like it? The work, I mean."

I think about that. "Yeah. It's good. The brothers are good men. They're building something real, families, lives that matter. Being part of that, even just as a prospect... it's more than I've had before."

She's quiet for a moment, processing. "You said last night you don't have family."

"I don’t. Not the traditional kind, no."

"The Iron Phoenix is your family now."

"Yeah," I say. "They are."

We're almost to her street now, the familiar route I've driven and ridden so many times it's muscle memory. I slow down as we approach the blue house, pull up to the curb.

She doesn't get out immediately. Just sits there, hands in her lap, looking at the house.

"My mom's probably asleep," she says. "Luna too. She has school in the morning."

"You should get some sleep too."

"I know." But she still doesn't move. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you really come tonight? I mean, I appreciate it, but you don't know me. You don't owe me anything. So why?"

I could lie. Could tell her it's just the decent thing to do, that any brother would do the same, that it's part of proving myself to the club. But she told me last night she manages two jobs and a kid on barely any sleep. The least I can do is offer some honesty.

"Because I wanted to make sure you got home safe," I say. "And because when I'm around you, the noise in my head gets quieter."

She turns to look at me, eyes wide. "What noise?"

"The kind that's been there since I was a kid. The kind that says I'm not worth much and never will be. You quiet it without even trying."