Then at the empty apartment.
He understood.
He reached inside his vest.
He pulled out an envelope.
"Take this."
Rebecca didn't move.
"What's that?"
"Your next chapter."
She reluctantly accepted it.
Inside were documents.
The first was a cashier's check covering her hospital bill.
The second was a lease.
A two-bedroom townhouse.
Two years paid.
Rebecca stared at the paper.
Her hands began to shake.
"What is this?"
"A house."
"I can't."
"You can."
"It's too much."
Rooster said nothing.
Rebecca pulled out another document.
She read it.
Then read it again.
It was an appointment confirmation for Leo at a pediatric pulmonary clinic in Los Angeles.
The best facility Rooster could find.
The treatment had already been paid for.
Rebecca looked up.
"How?"
Rooster shrugged.
"I know people."
"This is thousands of dollars."
"Probably."
"Tens of thousands."
"Probably."
"Why?"
Rooster looked at her.
"Because you shouldn't have to choose between food and medicine."
Rebecca's eyes filled with tears.
"I can't repay you."
"I don't want you to."
"Then what do you want?"
Rooster looked toward Leo.
"Nothing."
He paused.
"Except for you to keep him alive."
Rebecca broke.
She covered her face.
Rooster stood silently.
He had seen men beg.
He had seen women scream.
He had seen people die.
But somehow, watching a sixteen-year-old girl cry in an empty apartment hurt more than any of it.
Rebecca looked at him through tears.
"Why us?"
Rooster reached into his pocket.
He pulled out Sophie's photograph.
"Because once upon a time, I was you."
Rebecca stared at him.
"I was young."
He looked at the picture.
"Scared."
He looked at Leo.
"Broke."
Then he looked back at Rebecca.
"And I lost someone because I didn't have enough money."
Rebecca stepped forward.
She hugged him.
For several seconds, Rooster stood completely still.
Then his enormous hand rested gently against her back.
Downstairs, thirty engines started.
One after another.
Then all together.
The building trembled.
Rooster looked toward the window.
"That's your escort."
Rebecca laughed through her tears.
"An escort?"
"Thirty motorcycles."
Leo grinned.
"Can I ride one?"
Rooster looked at him.
"One day."
Rebecca laughed.
It was the first real laugh she had heard from herself in months.
The Club's Promise
The townhouse was on the safe side of Bakersfield.
It had two bedrooms.
A small kitchen.
A backyard.
Working plumbing.
A refrigerator that actually stayed cold.
To Rebecca, it looked like a palace.
The first night, Leo slept in a real bed.
Rebecca stood in the doorway and watched him breathe.
No wheezing.
No coughing.
Just sleep.
She cried quietly.
Then she went into the kitchen.
Rooster was sitting at the table.
"You didn't leave?"
"Not yet."
"You don't have to stay."
"I know."
Rebecca sat across from him.
"Why does everyone in your club care?"
Rooster leaned back.
"They don't all care."
"Then why did thirty men show up?"
Rooster smiled.
"Because they heard what happened."
Rebecca looked down.
"I didn't do anything special."
"You took a knife for a motorcycle."
"I was trying to protect my job."
"You stood there knowing you could get hurt."
Rebecca shrugged.
"I've had worse days."
Rooster stared at her.
"That's what worries me."
She looked at him.
"What?"
"You're sixteen and you already think getting hurt is normal."
Rebecca didn't answer.
Rooster continued.
"You've been taking care of that boy for a long time."
"Someone had to."
"You should've had someone taking care of you."
Rebecca looked away.
Nobody had ever said that to her.
Rooster reached into his pocket.
He placed a key on the table.
"What's that?"
"Your front-door key."
"I have one."
"Spare."
"Why?"
"In case you lose yours."
Rebecca smiled.
"You're giving me a spare?"
"I'm giving you something else."
"What?"
"A number."
He handed her a card.
"If you need help, call."
"At three in the morning?"
"Especially at three in the morning."
"What if you're busy?"
"Then somebody else answers."
Rebecca looked at the card.
There were several names and numbers.
Rooster explained.
"Medical emergencies. Transportation. Repairs. Legal problems. School issues."
Rebecca frowned.
"School?"
"You are going back."
"I don't know if I can."
"You can."
"I need to work."
"No."
"But—"
"No."
Rooster leaned forward.
"You're sixteen."
She stared at him.
"You've worked enough."
Rebecca swallowed.
"What about money?"
"You've got two years of housing."
"But food—"
"Handled."
"Leo's medicine?"
"Handled."
"My school?"
"Handled."
Rebecca's eyes narrowed.
"This sounds like charity."
"No."
"What is it?"
Rooster thought for a moment.
"Family."