Shrugging again, I preferred not to answer.
Whispering echoed around the room and then settled, a light buzzing that I was accustomed to, and I relaxed, knowing there wasn’t any danger. The whispers would have roared.
“Know what I think?” Rael asked, pushing off the wall as he walked in my direction. “I think your thin jacket that’s falling apart and the worn boots on your feet prove you ain’t got nobody lookin’ out for you.”
“Got to agree with you,” Grim added.
“And I don’t like all those old injuries you got. Fractures and broken bones that didn’t heal right. Cigarette burns. Multiple scars.” Patriot approached from the left, and I realized that I was surrounded. Grim stood at the foot of the bed. Rael was on my right.
Had this been anyone besides these bikers, I would have panicked. There was something about them that reminded me of the whispers. Fierce. Protective. Lethal.
“You graduate yet?” Rael asked, giving me a calculating look.
“What you thinkin’, SAA?”
Rael turned to Grim. “If he’s eighteen, he can do whatever the fuck he wants. We could use a new mechanic in the shop.”
Grim lifted his hand and rubbed his fingers over his short beard. “True enough. You ever turn a wrench, kid?”
I noticed they hadn’t called me Shadow yet, and I fought back a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Rael asked, tilting his head as he narrowed his eyes.
“Yeah, I’ve turned a wrench,” I managed to say with a chuckle. “Been workin’ part-time at Gray’s Garage in Hawthorne. They would give a good reference.”
“Age?”
I locked eyes with Grim. “I’m nineteen. My birthday was in June. I’ve got enough credits to graduate after the semester ends in January. Just have to pass English and Economics first.”
I couldn’t quite place the reason, but I was opening up to these men faster than I had with anyone else in my entire life.
“He’s a smartass and a mouthy little shit,” Rael observed. “I want to sponsor him.”
Grim’s head snapped up, and he turned to Rael. “You don’t know this kid. Just met him yesterday, and he won’t even say his name.”
“Wyatt Hudson.”
Three heads turned my way.
“What? It’s sexy as fuck.”
Silence engulfed the room for about ten seconds before every single one of the bikers roared with laughter.
“Shit. He’s prospect material, pres.” Rael shot a smug look in my direction.
“I’m gonna second that,” Patriot announced.
“Then we take it to church, brothers.”
“What’s that mean?” I asked, confused by their grins.
“You’re going up for a vote, kid.”
Kid. Something told me that I wouldn’t ever be called Wyatt again.
I waited for the whispers, closing my eyes as I rested against the pillows. Fatigue pressed in as a dull ache throbbed in my right leg. As I drifted off, I heard whispering, smiling when I learned this place, the Crossroads, was exactly where a lost soul like me needed to be.