Page 11 of Hatter

“Just like that?” Her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Just like that,” I echoed back confidently.

There was no other way it could be. She was Underland’s responsibility now -- our charge, our sister… and in some strange way, I thought she might be our salvation.

I looked around and found the room empty except for Jo and me. She was watching me intently. Her dark, swollen eyes were uncertain but unwavering -- a testament to her resilient spirit.

The door to the clubhouse swung open, and March strode in, his face grim. He’d been our rock since we’d formed Underland MC, always keeping a cool head and an even keel no matter what chaos erupted around us. Now his eyes held a storm I hadn’t seen before.

“Hatter,” he said. “I’ve scouted the area. No sign of trouble yet, but I’ve beefed up security just in case. Had a few things in place I hadn’t switched on yet, but everything is up and running now.”

“Good work,” I replied, watching as Jo’s gaze flickered between us. “We’re setting up a room for Jo.”

March gave a curt nod. “I’ll check on the progress.” He moved toward the back rooms with purposeful strides.

It felt surreal, all of us rallying around this small girl who’d thrust herself into our lives. But Underland MC was a family -- fierce and loyal. We’d protect Jo with everything we had.

And me? Well, I was beginning to suspect that Jo meant more to me than simply being a charge under my protection. But that wasn’t something I was ready to dig into. I’d place that idea on the back burner for now.

At the moment, all that mattered was keeping Jo safe. And finding out who was the rat, but that last part could wait a day or two. As for the club we’d heard was coming this way, all I could do was hope we were wrong. I didn’t have nearly enough men to tackle too many things at once.

Chapter Four

Jo

The world was a blur of shadows and whispers when I cracked my eyes open. Pain throbbed through my body, sharp and insistent, pulling me out from under the veil of unconsciousness. Everything hurt. My breath came in shallow gasps, each one a battle against the ache that had taken up residence in my bones.

I was in a room where shadows clung to the walls, with a single dim bulb somewhere above me. The air smelled like oil and leather. Outside, the distant growl of a motorcycle engine cut through the silence, a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone. Underland MC was out there -- my protectors.

A creak from the door pulled my attention away from the aching in my limbs. A man stepped into the room, and the dim light caught the edges of his mischievous grin, the one thing about him that seemed immune to the grimness of our surroundings. Cheshire. His name fit him like a second skin, all sly grins and sharp eyes that missed nothing. With every step he took toward me, my pulse ticked up a notch, hammering a staccato rhythm against my ribs.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, voice smooth as worn leather, “thought you could use this.”

He offered me a glass of water, and it was like he knew how parched my throat was, how much my body craved something, anything, to wash away the taste of fear and pain. But his casual tone didn’t match the calculating look in his eyes, those piercing depths that seemed to strip me bare and see right to the core of me. I didn’t miss the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tightened around the glass. Even now, he was on edge, ready for anything.

“Thanks.” My voice was a rough whisper, betraying more weakness than I’d like. I took the glass with hands that weren’t quite steady, the coolness of the water promising relief. It was an act of trust, accepting something from him, and part of me wondered if that’s exactly what he wanted -- to test me.

“You’re safe here. You know that, right?”

Did I? The question hung in the air between us. Safe was a word that hadn’t applied to me for a long time, its meaning lost somewhere in the mess that had become my life. But as I took a careful sip of water, feeling it soothe my raw throat, I realized that maybe -- just maybe -- I wanted to believe him.

I sipped at the water at first, then drank it quickly. Once I’d finished, I set the glass aside. At least I now knew anything they gave me to eat or drink should be fine. Then again, Eddie sometimes liked playing with my food. Nothing would happen for several days, then he’d slip something into my portion, and I’d be sick for days. It was possible something like that could happen again, but in my gut, I felt like I would be okay here with these men.

My gaze landed on March as he filled the doorway with his bulk. His shadow loomed large, a mountain of muscle and stern lines that seemed to suck the air out of the space. He didn’t say a word, didn’t have to -- his piercing eyes did all the talking, pinning me with a look that felt like a weight pressing down on my chest.

“March,” Cheshire acknowledged with a nod so subtle most would’ve missed it. But I saw. Saw the silent language spoken between these men, understood I was the topic of conversation without a single word being exchanged.

“Feeling any better?” Cheshire’s voice cut through the tense silence, his grin still in place, as if this were all just some game to him. To them, maybe it was.

“Been better,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself, feeling the pull of tender skin and bruised flesh. “Been worse.”

“Ah, that’s the spirit.” His tone was light, but his eyes were sharp, assessing. Like he could see every lie I’d ever told, every secret I’d tried to keep. “Can’t keep a good woman down, eh?”

“Depends on the woman,” I shot back, cautious but unable to completely hide the bite in my words. I needed him to know I wasn’t broken. Not yet. If I’d stayed any longer, then… Yeah, Eddie would have destroyed me.

“True enough.” He chuckled, and for an instant, I wondered if there was genuine warmth behind that smirk. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a glint that told me he enjoyed this -- enjoyed poking at the raw edges of my trust.

“Does it get easier?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, my voice betraying a hint of vulnerability I despised.

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