2: The First Truce

The next two days were quiet. A strange, tense quiet. Deacon didn’t call. Amelia didn’t try to call him either, even though her body is itching to call.

At 10:47 AM, the fire alarm at Meadowbrook Elementary started screaming. It cut through the calm morning like a knife. It was just a drill. It was supposed to happen. But Amelia watched. Lily Miller’s face went dead white.

"No, no, no," Lily whispered. Her small hands went to her ears. She started breathing fast and quietly. She rocked back and forth in her chair.

"Lily, honey, it’s okay," Amelia said. She walked to her right away. The other kids were walking out in straight lines. "It's just a practice."

But Lily didn't hear her. The little girl’s eyes were wide and not focused. She was staring at something only she could see. "The loud noises," she gasped. She was breathing fast. "They sound like... like that night..."

Amelia got on her knees next to Lily's desk. Her voice was calm and steady. Her heart was beating fast. "Lily, look at me. Can you see my face?"

Lily’s scared eyes slowly looked at her teacher.

"Good. Now breathe with me, okay? Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth." Amelia showed her. She made her breathing big. "You’re safe. You’re at school with me. The noise is just a drill."

It took ten minutes to get Lily calm enough to walk. They started to go outside to join the other classes. Lily stumbled a little. Her jacket came open.

That’s when Amelia saw it.

Tucked in the inside pocket was a small, old patch. The color was faded. But she could still see the design—a snake coiled up with its fangs showing. And in big letters underneath: COBRAS MC.

Amelia’s blood ran cold. She had seen enough TV shows to know that motorcycle clubs were about land and fighting. And if Lily was carrying a rival club’s patch…

"Lily," she said carefully. "Where did you get this?"

The little girl’s face went white again. "I... I found it. I wasn't supposed to keep it, but..." She started breathing fast again.

"It’s okay, sweetie. You’re not in trouble." Amelia quickly put the patch back in the jacket. "Let’s get you some water."

The rest of the day was a blur. Amelia kept watching Lily. Lily was jumpy. She flinched every time a door closed or a book fell. At lunch, she barely ate. When Amelia tried to ask about the patch, the little girl wouldn't say a word.

At the end of the day, Amelia stood near the front door. She was waiting. She didn’t have to wait long.

The sound of Deacon's motorcycle told her he was here. She saw him five minutes later. He walked through the front doors like a man on a mission. His jaw was set. His dark eyes looked at everything. He looked like he was ready for a fight.

"Mr. Miller," Amelia stopped him before he could get to the after-school room. "I need to talk to you. Alone."

Something in her voice must have scared him. He stopped right away. "What happened? Is Lily hurt?"

"She’s fine, but…" Amelia looked at the other parents and teachers in the hall. "Not here. Can we go outside?"

Deacon’s eyes got small, but he followed her. They went through a side door to a quiet place behind the school. The afternoon sun made long shadows between them. Amelia could smell the leather and motor oil that always seemed to be with him.

"Talk," he said. He crossed his arms over his chest.

Amelia pulled the patch from her pocket. She watched his face. It went from confused to scared to very angry in three seconds.

"What is this?" she demanded. She held up the faded Cobras patch. "Lily had a full panic attack during the fire drill today. When I was helping her, I found this. What’s going on, Mr. Miller? Is she in danger?"

Deacon snatched the patch from her hand so fast she barely saw it. "Where did she get this?" The question was more for himself. The fear in his voice was clear.

"She said she found it. But that's not the point." Amelia stepped closer. She would not be scared by his size or his anger. "A child doesn’t carry gang patches unless something bad is happening. I can’t help her if you won’t tell me the truth."

"You shouldn't be touching this," Deacon said. He shoved the patch into his jacket pocket. "You have no idea what you're getting into."

"Then tell me!" Amelia's voice got louder even though she tried to stay calm. "Lily is scared. She has panic attacks. And now I find this in her jacket? What am I supposed to think?"

Deacon ran a hand through his dark hair. He looked around the empty place like he thought someone was watching. "You're supposed to stay out of my business."

"She is my business. She’s my student, and she’s hurting." Amelia moved even closer. She was close enough to see the gold in his dark eyes. Close enough to feel the anger coming from his body. "Or should I call child services? Maybe they can get some answers."

The threat hit him hard. Deacon’s face got dark. When he spoke, his voice was very quiet and deadly. "You call child services, and you'll make things a lot worse for everyone."

"Then give me another choice." Amelia stood her ground. Standing so close to him made her heart beat fast. "Because I'm not leaving a child who needs help."

For a long time, they just looked at each other. Amelia could hear her own heart. She could smell his cologne mixed with the oil. She could see the fight in his eyes.

Finally, Deacon said a bad word under his breath. "Fine. But not here. And not now. And if you tell anyone about this... cops, social workers, your boss, anyone... the deal is off."

"What kind of deal?"

"No cops. No child services. No one. What I tell you stays between us. You tell anyone, and you put us both in more danger than you can think of. Do you get it?”

"And no more showing up at my house."

Amelia thought about it. It wasn't perfect. But it was more than she had an hour ago. "Fine. But I want to know what’s scaring her. And I want you to help her with her anxiety at school."

"Deal." He took out his phone. "Give me your number. I'll text you where to meet."

As Amelia told him her number, she noticed how his fingers moved on the screen. They were gentle for such big hands. He looked up, and their eyes met. For a second, the anger was gone. It was replaced with something else.

Something that made her stomach feel weird in a way she did not want to think about.

"Tomorrow night," he said. His voice was rougher than before. "And teacher? Come alone."

"Mr biker, my name is Amelia."

The words came out before she could stop them. 

Deacon looked at her face for a moment. She thought she saw the corner of his mouth move into a small smile.

"I know what your name is, Amelia." The way he said it, low and careful, made her name sound dangerous. "The question is, do you know what you’re getting yourself into?"

Before she could answer, he walked away. He left her standing in the courtyard. Her heart was beating fast. Her mind was racing.

As she watched him go, Amelia knew she had just made a deal with the devil. And the scary part was not that she might regret it..

The scary part was that she was excited for tomorrow night.