Page 22 of Hatter

My eyes misted with tears at how sweet the gesture was. I’d played video games when I’d been much younger, although I’d never owned one myself. A few of my friends in school had them, and sometimes a group would go to their houses to hang out after school.

The next package had me laughing. Two water guns were wrapped inside a smaller gift bag. After lunch you and me are going to have a gunfight. Think you can win? Of course, it was from Cheshire. It was probably his way of not only getting me to interact with the club, but possibly help me learn how to aim a gun or feel less awkward pulling a trigger. We’d had a discussion this morning about how I’d never fired any type of gun before.

The last was a flat box. I opened it to find colored pencils, an adult coloring book filled with animals, watercolor markers, and another sketch pad. I enjoy drawing with you. Simple and to the point. Without even signing his name, I knew it was from Rabbit.

The men here were all so sweet to me. I really did feel like I had a bunch of brothers. I’d gone from being isolated and beaten by Eddie, to finding this incredible place with all these amazing men. My new family.

Smiling, I put my new things away, and crawled back into the bed. This time I fell asleep with no trouble at all.

Chapter Eight

Hatter

The clubhouse was shrouded in silence, heavier than the Tennessee fog clinging to the mountains outside. I leaned forward, elbows on the worn oak table.

“Spill it, Cheshire,” I said. He’d lured me in here with the promise of news I’d want to hear. Except he’d gone silent now that we’d left Jo, Mock, Knave, Carpenter, and Tweedle in the other room. Asshole.

Cheshire leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, but his eyes were hard and cold. “Eddie Lewis,” he began, tossing a folder onto the table. It slid across the wood, stopping within my reach. “That rat bastard’s dug his claws in deeper than we thought.”

I flipped through the pages, each one a punch to the gut -- photos, dates, transactions. Eddie wasn’t just some punk with daddy’s connections; he was a damn viper in his own right. I’d known he wasn’t a fluffy bunny based on what he’d done to Jo, but this?

“Shit. We need more intel.” It had never occurred to me the bastard would be this damn evil.

“Already on it, boss.” Cheshire’s grin didn’t reach his eyes. “Going to grease some palms, get those politicians singing.”

“Good.” I nodded. “March, hit up your contacts. We need to know who Eddie’s got in his pocket. I don’t want this fucker blindsiding us. No way he’s letting Jo slip through his grasp. Once he knows she’s here, all bets are off.”

“Roger that.” March’s voice was a gravelly rumble.

“Absolem,” I continued, “dive into his finances. Follow the money.”

“Consider it done.” Absolem pushed up his glasses, already lost in thought.

“Rabbit.” I turned to the youngest, anxiety etched into his features. “Keep your eyes peeled. Any strange cars, faces, report back.”

“Y-yeah, Hatter.” Rabbit’s reply was quick. Even on the days he was an utter basket case, he still followed orders.

“Listen up, brothers.” I stood. “This isn’t just another scuffle. Eddie will be playing for keeps. If he gets his hands on Jo, I have no doubt he’ll toy with her until she prays for death. Everyone get to it.”

The air was electric with tension, the weight of what I feared would be an impending war clung to us. But Underland MC didn’t back down. Never had, never would.

The night felt oppressive as I slipped into a dimly lit corner of the garage. Fingers danced over my phone, the screen’s glow the only light in the shadowed space. A name scrolled across my contacts -- Ghost. The group he ran with didn’t exist in any official record. Ghosts indeed. Perfect for the task at hand. I dialed and waited for him to answer.

“Talk to me,” came the gravelly voice on the other end, all business. Man never did answer with a simple hello.

“Need intel on Eddie Lewis. His weak spots,” I said. “I’ll send you what we know so far.”

“No need. I’ve heard of him. Pricey target. He’s got connections.” Ghost’s reply was curt, and the simple fact he didn’t need more info scared the piss out of me. Eddie was a bigger fish than I’d realized.

“Name your price,” I shot back. “But keep it tight. No leaks.”

“Understood.”

I ended the call. Trusting outsiders was a gamble, but Ghost’s network was vast, his loyalty bought in cash, not blood. It would have to do. Back in our military days, we’d been assigned to the same mission. Fucker was downright lethal.

Footsteps approached, and I looked up to find Cheshire sauntering into the garage, a wolfish grin plastered across his face. Something about his look told me he’d hit paydirt.

“Got something juicy, Hatter,” he said, tossing a manila envelope onto the workbench. “Eddie isn’t just some punk, and his daddy is higher up than we thought. He’s the golden boy of Warren’s dirty elite.”

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