Page 14 of Hatter

“Isn’t everything here?” I managed a half-hearted chuckle, but fear’s cold fingers still danced along my spine.

“Maybe.” He stood, his movements precise, controlled. “But danger doesn’t always mean harm. Not here. Not with us.”

Absolem stepped closer, his boots scuffing softly against the wood floor. His gaze, calm and steady, met mine.

“You’re safe. That’s a promise,” he said, offering a small smile, a crack in his disciplined façade.

I studied him, this man who held order amidst chaos, who saw family where others saw outcasts. For a fleeting moment, his confidence was infectious.

“I guess… I guess that’s something I could get used to. Safety. Family. Been a while since I had either.”

“Good.” Absolem’s smile widened just a fraction more. “Welcome to Underland, Jo.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, feeling the weight of his gaze. Maybe, just maybe, I could find shelter here, and I could call this place home.

Chapter Five

Jo

The clubhouse reeked of oil and whiskey, the walls echoing with raucous laughter and the growl of an engine from somewhere nearby. But Hatter led me away from the noise, his heavy boots thudding on the wood floors.

“Here,” Hatter’s voice cut through the dimness, a soft command that drew me to a corner and a small table with four chairs.

Everything in me screamed to run, but this was Hatter -- Mad Hatter, they called him -- with eyes that had seen more hell than I ever could. And he’d been the one to rescue me, to bring me here. I wondered if the others would have left me on the road.

“Jo?” His question hung in the air, simple, expectant.

Breath shaky, I forced words past the lump in my throat. “It… It started with…”

My hands trembled, ghosts of old bruises aching at the memory. Would there ever be a day I didn’t remember those times and feel the same fear and pain I’d experienced at the time? Would it ever fade?

“He --” I paused, swallowing hard. I’d thought talking about this would be easy, that it wouldn’t affect me. I’d been wrong. This was much harder than I’d thought.

“Take your time,” Hatter urged, his voice a low rumble that somehow grounded me.

“Right.” The word was no more than a whisper. “I’m not broken, Hatter. Just got some cracks.”

Hatter’s gaze pinned me, fierce and unwavering. It almost felt like he could see everything I wanted to say.

“First time was in his apartment,” I said, my voice cracked a little. “Eddie… he came home wired. Until that night, I hadn’t really known who I was with. The place where he kept me, where I’d thought we were living together, wasn’t his true home.”

The memory clawed at me, sharp and jagged. My hands itched with the need to rub away the phantom grip on my wrists.

“Jo,” Hatter prompted.

Right. He needed to know what happened. “He threw me against the wall. Said I looked at some guy too long. Eddie pinned me, gripped my wrists so hard I thought they’d break. I felt trapped. Couldn’t move, couldn’t scream.”

“Son of a bitch,” Hatter muttered under his breath, his tone dark. His scarred face was stone, but his eyes blazed, reflecting my own hell back at me.

“Kept thinking it was a one-off, you know?” I forced out a humorless chuckle that sounded more like a choke. “Stupid, huh?”

Lots of abused women probably told themselves the same thing. It won’t happen again. He just had a bad day. Or accepted the bullshit apology that always came the next day, along with promises that meant less than nothing. I’d fallen for every one of his lies, so desperate to believe him.

“Abusers don’t do ‘one-offs,’ Jo,” he said. “They’re predators. And Eddie will get what’s coming.”

Hatter’s rough palm brushed mine, and I startled at the warmth. His fingers closed around my hand. He didn’t say anything more, just the steady squeeze of my hand saying I got you. It anchored me, kept me from being sucked back into the past.

“Keep going, Jo,” he urged. “Spill it all. Get all the pain, anger, and anything else out. It’s the only way you’ll start to heal.”

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