Free Biker Justice: A Skull Kings MC Novella by Sage L. Morgan

me still couldn’t believe it, but seeing his old pictures and badge had helped somewhat. At least I didn’t doubt him anymore. Now, it was a question of whether or not I’d decide to help him.
    I was afraid to admit it, but I already knew that I would.

Chapter 9
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    A nthemhead was a town about halfway between Canyon City and Phoenix. It also had the closest pharmacy that carried the morning after pill.
    The whole trip should’ve taken me two hours, tops. I’d made sure to buy a box of condoms while paying at the register. The paper bag of my purchases sat in my passenger seat as I drove back toward the interstate. My eyes skimmed over the signs by the road, every one of them typical advertisements of a smallish desert town. But one of them made me take a second look.
    True North Healing Clinic.
    I frowned behind my aviator sunglasses. “True North,” I recited to myself. A string of recognition vibrated in my mind. Wasn’t that what Lisbeth’s gang called themselves?
    I flicked on my turn signal and made a U-turn.
    The sign pointed toward an old adobe building that looked as benign as a doctor’s office. I parked in the mostly empty lot and slid out to walk toward the shade of the building. There was a bulletin board by the double-door entrance pinned with fliers for church organizations, methadone clinics, and drug rehab centers.
    Find God’s plan for you at True North Healing Clinic, read the largest flier of all. Below the title was a list of dates and times, apparently for support group meetings. The next one was in fifteen minutes.
    I took a step back to study the entire building once more, shading my eyes. Then, I heard the crunch of tires rolling through the crumbled asphalt. I turned around just in time to watch a twenty-year-old Buick slide to a stop right beside my car.
    A man wearing a chef’s coat got out of the driver’s side. Half of my mind urged me to run while the other half fought to keep me there to investigate further. So naturally, I just froze in place, unsure of what to do.
    The man slammed his door shut. “Are you here for the meeting?”
    “I—I don’t know.”
    “You must be new.” His face suddenly broke out into a wide smile. “It’s normal to be nervous on your first time.”
    I breathed an inward sigh of relief as the man made his way toward me. With his soft, gray hair and wrinkly smile, he had a sort of grandfatherly look about him. I accepted his handshake and introduced myself.
    “I’m Father Alan,” he said.
    “Father Alan?” I said, confused.
    He glanced down at himself and chuckled sheepishly. “Oh, of course. I still have to change. My organization is short on funding, so I’ve picked up all sorts of odd jobs to make ends meet.”
    I smiled guiltily, unable to come up with the right thing to say. Suddenly, my life’s problems seemed petty compared to the stuff Father Alan must’ve had to deal with.
    “Why don’t you come inside? You can help me set up the refreshments.”
    “Ah—well—” I stared helplessly after him as he began making his way toward the building. “Okay.”
    I watched as he unlocked the doors and ushered me inside. The interior was very generic looking with a beige tile floor, fluorescent lighting, and vertical blinds on the windows. Tables were folded and propped against the cinderblock walls. The only other furnishing was a circle of chairs in the middle of the room.
    “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Father Alan began.
    I followed him into a small, adjacent office. “Um...well...I’m not really into sharing details about myself,” I said pathetically.
    “That’s fine. I understand. You’ll find that a lot of women here have trust issues. Everybody is free to open up on their own time,” he said. He began undoing the white buttons of his coat. “Have a seat. I just need a minute.”
    I lowered myself into a padded chair, trying to think of a graceful way to leave. Several excuses floated