I pull my bike off the highway, ready to turn into the clubhouse gates. I’m pissed to notice a cardboard box dumped in front of them and blocking my path. Lowering the Harley onto its kickstand I dismount, I’ll have to move the bloody thing before I can open the gate.
The box lid is loosely folded over on itself and I almost drop it when I hear a mewling sound coming from inside, for fucks sake, I hope no one’s been stupid enough to dump a puppy on us. Do we really look like the local animal shelter?
I’m shocked to shit when I discover that it’s not a puppy in the box, it’s a baby. Inquisitive blue eyes stare up at me and a tiny fist reaches up as if to touch me. I make a harrumph kind of noise in my throat and am rewarded with a gurgle in response. I’d say it was accompanied by a smile, but I’m pretty sure I remember my sister telling me that my nephew was too young to smile when he was that small, it’s just wind. I don’t know about that, must’ve just been coincidence that he had wind every time I picked him up.
I turn my attention back to the infant in front of me. Why the hell would anyone dump a baby, especially outside a clubhouse full of bikers? A convent I could understand, a children’s home even, but a clubhouse? I don’t think any of us have any idea how to deal with this.
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