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got stabbed for less.
    When we were finally home, we went straight to Bill's house. He lived on a quiet street, not at all like the busy commercial district where my mom's apartment was. I stashed my gun in Anchor’s pack before following them up the driveway. I didn’t want it. In fact, I hoped I’d never see it again.
    Bill ushered us all inside as if he'd been expecting us.
    "You two, go sit in the kitchen," he said to Whitney and I. Then they disappeared into his office and shut the door.
    "Shit," I said with a sigh. We leaned against the kitchen counter, still stretching our legs after the long ride.
    "What's wrong?" Whitney asked.
    "I think I'm in trouble."
    She made a face. "You saved our asses. I didn't see what happened after you hit that guy, but it distracted John long enough for Anchor to put a bullet in his leg and take his gun. And I'll tell them that."
    "What happened to you?" I asked, "I thought you had plans to head to San Diego, last I heard."
    She snorted with derision. "Northern Eagle territory was as far as I got. I met a guy who I thought was nice." She looked at her feet. "He wasn't. It took a long time to convince my parents I was actually in trouble. They thought I was being dramatic because I couldn't make it on my own. Once they realized I was serious, though..." She shrugged.
    "They sent Anchor and Nomad."
    "Yeah. My dad wanted to go, but he hurt his back kind of recently." She sniffled. "I just hope they're happy to see me, and they're not in a rush to kick me back out."
    "Of course they'll be happy."
    She wiped her eyes. "What the heck were you doing out there?"
    "Bill ran me out of town. I hitched a ride with Nomad." I chuckled. "Guess I didn't get very far, either. I'm gonna just catch a bus going wherever, if they don't kill me first."
    "Well, they'll have to go through me."
    We raided their refrigerator. If they couldn't be bothered to have the manners to offer us a drink, then we weren't going to sit around and wait politely.
    We were sitting at the table sipping coffee when they finally emerged. Their faces were grim.
    "Your family is coming to pick you up," Bill told Whitney, "Go wait outside."
    She looked at me with concern. "Lily really saved our butts out there, Bill, she didn't -"
    "I know," he cut her off. "She's not in trouble. Go."
    I didn't trust Bill enough to feel relief yet, but I nodded at Whitney.
    "All right," she said, offering me a small smile. "Thanks again."
    They didn't speak until they heard her close the front door. They remained standing, towering over me, too close to allow me to get up unless I backed my chair away.
    "It's up to Nomad what to do with you for the crime of driving and damaging his bike," Bill said.
    I looked to him, but his green eyes gave away nothing.
    "Secondly," Bill went on, "We have something for you." He pushed something at me - black, leather - it was a jacket. On the front pocket was a patch that said, simply, "Prospect." "You spilled blood on behalf of the club. By our laws, we have to give you a chance at full membership." He bent closer - close enough for me to smell his aftershave and the beer on his breath. "In conclusion, you get to stay." They both stepped back. "Now. Put it on."
    My knees were shaking so hard, I don't even know how I stood. I was floored. I expected punishment, I expected to be kicked back out of town... this has never crossed my mind. The familiar leather smell filled my nose as I slipped the jacket on.
    I felt stronger. I felt tough. Invincible. I met Nomad's eyes again. I could fix things.
    Bill nodded his approval. "All right. She's all yours." He clapped a hand on Nomad's shoulder, then showed us out the door.
    I stopped him before he climbed on his bike. "What are you gonna do to me?" I asked.
    "I'm dropping you off at home," he said, "Get on."
    "No. You know what I mean. About the... crime."
    Life returned to his eyes as he looked me up and down. Heat and fire crackled in their green depths. A cruel grin