Part One Hundred and Eight

I followed the man into their clubhouse, past a small foyer and down a dimly lit hall. I could hear music in the background and a fog of smoke escaped when he opened the door.

“Is it the pizza?” someone yelled. “I’m starving over here!”

“I come bearing Kage Hawthorne of the Rangers,” the man in front of me said.

“You lost, pretty boy?” another man asked me.

“You think I’m pretty?” I asked as a few of them burst out laughing.

“Well you ain’t bad looking,” the man that had opened the door said.

“So what brings a Ranger to our doorstep?” he asked me.

“You actually,” I said as I looked at him. He was the president of this chapter and the man I needed to talk to.

“I didn’t know my fanbase stretched all the way to Madison Square Garden,” he said.

“I want to talk to you about the foster system and my plan to ease the pressure,” I said.

“What do you know about the foster system? You weren’t even born in New York,” he said.

“Actually I was and I was a part of the system until I turned sixteen, some fun facts nobody really knows about me,” I said.

“I’m listening,” he said.

I outlined my plan to him, told him where I saw this thing going and how I planned to raise the money we’d need in an almost continuous cycle. I told him everything I had thought about and the people I had contacted so far.

“You know all those people?” he asked me.

“Most of them, yeah, pro athletes tend to move in the same circles,” I said.

“So what do you want from us? Money?” he asked me.

“A charity program always wants money but what I need right now is your network. You know all sorts of people, people not mentioned on your website. I need to spread the word about this program, get companies and all sorts of people involved, we need time from people, big brothers and sisters,” I said to him.

“Are you aware of our reputation?” he asked with a smirk. I had to smile. This man wasn’t close to me in height or physique but he had an aura of dominance and danger around him. There was a reason he was the president of this chapter.

“I am but I also know that misconceptions exist. People think I’m some rich kid, a hockey legacy that got chosen by the Rangers because my father was a Ranger,” I said.

“Yeah, I was wondering what your privileged ass was doing here,” he said with a smile.

“I grew up here, went from home to home, played street hockey and I was knocked around a few times too. Alexander Hawthorne adopted me and changed my life. My high school coach saw my potential and yeah maybe I was privileged because Alexander introduced me to the Rangers and they kept watching me, but I got drafted because I worked my ass off for it,” I said to him.

“So you want our networking skills and the regular Joe on the street to spend time with these kids?”

I nodded my head. “Yeah, but more importantly, these kids need to know that they have a voice, that they matter and that someone out there is willing to do something about their situation.”

“What’s in it for us?” another man asked me.

“My gratitude and your own goodwill,” I said and the man smiled at me.

“Goodwill,” he repeated.

“What do you want?” I asked him.

“Season tickets,” he said.

“How many?” I asked and he smiled again.

“Twenty.”

“Done,” I said as he stood up and we shook hands.

“I have one more question,” he said and looked at me like he was trying to figure me out.

“Sure.”

“You don’t have to answer me but what gave you the idea that we’d be willing to help?” he asked me.

“When I was eleven, my foster father had a heavy fist. I spent more nights sleeping on a park bench than I did in a bed. One of your members found me one night and when he took me home with him, I thought the worst because that was my life, abuse and more abuse. He fed me and gave me a bed to sleep in that night and I stayed at his house that whole weekend. I knew I had to go back and that he could get into trouble, so I never mentioned him to anyone.”

His eyes turned emotional as he listened to my story. “What did this guy look like? You know his name?”

“His patch read ‘Scarecrow’, tall guy with a buzz cut,” I said.

“Scarecrow took you in?” The look on his face was disbelief.

“Yeah, he did.”

“Fuck me sideways. Scarecrow was the meanest motherfucker in this club,” he said with a chuckle.

“Then I won’t leave a review on your site that says otherwise,” I said and he grinned at me.

“Leave your number, Kage. Let’s see how we can help each other,” he said.

I was shown out after that and I didn’t waste time walking back to my car. It had gone better than even I thought it would. These were essentially dangerous men, men that have gone to prison and didn’t blink twice to do what needed to be done in their world but they also did a lot of good in their community.

The men I’d met earlier had all looked mean, covered in tattoos and ripped jeans and leathers, but they were still men. Most of them had families at home, children they loved and I knew that misconception was a big thing everywhere.

I was lucky enough to know the difference but I also knew that if one kid spoke out about abuse, that these men would all pull up on their Harley’s and take matters into their own hands. Men could be volatile and mean, but those same men wouldn’t condone child abuse.