Free Unbeloved by Madeline Sheehan

Christmas Day no less. I ended up lying to him, something I had promised myself to never do, and told him his grandfather was sick.
    Being that I’d had no contact with my family since I’d divorced Tegen’s father, something Christopher was aware of, I could tell he was skeptical, as well as feeling put out that I was leaving him behind. But what choice did I have? I couldn’t very well tell him his father was in danger or worse. In the end he took it in stride, further proving how very much like Hawk he truly was, and only serving to make me feel even worse for lying to him.
    Once Christopher was settled at Hayley ’s, I ran into a whole other slew of problems. Due to a winter storm that was bearing down on the entire Midwest and spilling into the surrounding states, flights to Montana were being either canceled or delayed indefinitely.
    I waited at the airport for hours, my anxiety worsening each time another flight was canceled, until I eventually gave up on the airlines altogether and ended up renting a car.
    The next twenty -four hours were spent on the road, only four of which I’d allowed myself a quick nap in a rest area off the interstate.
    By the time I reached the state of Montana, I was well into the center of the storm, unable to see more than a few feet in front of me, and unable to drive more than thirty miles per hour. It was slow going for a while; my only reprieve was that the roads were virtually empty, and I was determined to make it to my destination.
    Now I was parked just beyond the club house’s razor-wire-topped gates. Releasing my death grip on the steering wheel, I released a large breath of pent-up air and looked up at the building before me.
    The whitewashed warehouse was massive , the Hell’s Horsemen logo painted on the front, huge and intimidating. Nothing about the appearance was warm or inviting, something I’m sure Deuce did purposely.
    I ’d been here a thousand times before, even after my move to California, but something felt different this time.
    I felt as though I were standing on a precipice composed of quickly unraveling thread, and once I passed through those gates, my quiet life, my now peaceful existence and everything I had rebuilt from the ground up, all of it was going to disintegrate and send me free-falling back into the never-ending abyss of the unknown.
    That thought, the fear it caused within me, was nearly enough to make me turn the car around and go back to California.
    But this wasn ’t about me. This was about Hawk and the little boy I’d left behind.
    Taking a deep breath, I swallowed my fears and pulled the vehicle forward. Rolling down my window, I reached out into the blistering cold and pressed the call button on the intercom.
    The intercom buzzed to life and a gravelly voice crackled through the speaker. “Was wondering how long you were gonna sit out there.”
    I instantly recognized the voice as Worm ’s, a longtime brother of the club, and despite my nervousness felt a smile slip past my thinly pressed lips.
    “ Just mentally preparing myself for those roaming hands of yours,” I quipped.
    “ Welcome home, little D,” he said, chuckling.
    After an entire day spent driving and worrying, his answering laughter, raspy due to many years of chain-smoking, was a welcome sound.
    The latch clicked and as the gate began to slowly swing open, I could barely make out through the heavy veil of falling snow the front door of the clubhouse opening. Like a beacon in the midst of the surrounding gloom, a warm glow of light poured forth, spilling out into the darkness.
    As I drove forward, a figure appeared in the doorway, imposing in size, taking up nearly the entire entrance. Despite the absence of the sun and the falling snow impeding my vision, I would know those shoulders anywhere. Those were shoulders that usually bore the weight of world upon them, yet somehow never fell.
    After parking and with my luggage in tow, I began the trek through the snow