Page 7 of Hatter

My skin crawled at his words. The men backed off and disappeared into the darkness. My hand shook and I dropped the broken bottle, a sob catching in my throat. Would I ever be safe? Why did men think I was a toy for them to use as they pleased?

Now that the fight was over, I felt every ache in my body. The bruises from Eddie’s last outburst still lingered on my skin, and so did the cuts. He was a brutal bastard, and always took what he wanted.

I needed to find a place to hide. I’d need to rest, and then figure out my next move. I didn’t know how long it would take them to find me. For that matter, the man I’d been running from to begin with would also be searching for me. My ex, Eddie, wasn’t going to let me go easily. I had no doubt he already had men hunting me.

My legs felt like jelly, but I forced myself to walk out of the alley, sticking to the shadows as much as possible. Now that I’d finally broken free from Eddie, I refused to lie down and die. I’d fought too hard to reach this point. But I knew I wouldn’t survive on my own. Not for long.

I needed help. Someone who wouldn’t fuck me over, or back down when Eddie came for me. A protector. How the hell was I supposed to find one of those in a place like Warren, Tennessee? The politicians were as corrupt as could be, and I knew damn well the police wouldn’t help me. Not unless I had someone backing me who carried some weight around here.

As I stepped out onto another dimly lit street, the hum of distant engines caught my ear. Something about that sound made my heart race with a different kind of excitement -- I couldn’t think of anything it could be other than motorcycles. Which meant the Underland MC was getting close! Even though Eddie hadn’t let me out of his sight very often, everyone in town knew who they were.

I’d seen the Underland MC guys around town quite a few times since coming here with Eddie, and I’d secretly watched them. They were tough, and if the rumors were true, they were all ex-military. Men like them wouldn’t run from Eddie. This was my chance! My only hope of keeping myself out of Eddie’s grasp.

Trusting them was a risk. Still, I couldn’t run forever. If the Underland MC could give me even a shred of safety, then it was a chance I had to take.

I’ve survived this long. Fear can’t control me forever. It’s time to take a stand and take a chance.

With that, I set off into the night, my heart still pounding in my chest. If I could just talk to the men with the Underland MC, then maybe I’d make it out of this alive.

Despite my exhaustion, I trudged through the quiet streets of Warren. The cold wind bit into my skin, but I forced myself to keep walking. My mind was a whirlpool of thoughts -- fear, anger, and a sliver of hope that refused to be drowned.

As the rumble of motorcycles grew louder, I saw them in the distance. Four men on bikes. They were rough around the edges with tattoos snaking up their muscular arms, clad in leather vests that I knew bore the unmistakable insignia of Underland MC.

Drawing a ragged breath, I stepped forward. Gritting my teeth, I ignored the sharp pain that flared through my damaged body, my steely resolve fortifying me against the discomfort.

I flagged them down with as much strength as I could muster. As they came to a halt, bright headlights blinded me. A heavy silence fell upon us as they eyed me. I knew what they’d see -- a woman barely standing.

“Christ,” one of them muttered, his voice heavy with concern. I’d seen eyes like his before. This man had killed and seen horrors most people couldn’t even comprehend. Same with the others beside him.

“You’ve got some nerve stopping us like this,” another said, his piercing eyes scanning me warily from head to toe.

“Yes,” I croaked out, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. “And I’ve got nowhere else to go.”

Their expressions hardened at my admission and for a terrifying moment, I thought they would leave me stranded in the cold dark night. My heart pounded loudly in my chest as fear gripped me once more.

But it was then that one man dismounted from his bike -- tall, with an aura of authority that seemed to command respect from the others. His eyes scanned over my brutalized form, taking in each bruise and cut with a hard glint in his gaze. But beneath the harsh exterior, I sensed something else in him -- a sense of justice, perhaps? Was it even possible?

“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“Eddie… Edward Lewis,” I replied, gathering every bit of courage left within me.

The mention of Eddie’s name sent a ripple through the group. They exchanged wary glances before the man spoke again. “Get on,” he ordered, gesturing toward his motorcycle.

Fear briefly threatened to consume me again as thoughts of betrayal and deceit swirled in my head. But then I remembered the alternative -- a life under Eddie’s sadistic reign or worse, death.

So I took a deep breath and climbed onto the back of the motorcycle, ignoring the pain screaming through my body. As we rode off into the night, I felt a strange sense of relief wash over me for the first time in what felt like forever. Maybe, just maybe, I had found my protector in this terrifying town called Warren.

And I didn’t even know his name…

Chapter Three

Hatter

My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins -- this was the life we’d chosen, the brotherhood we’d forged in the fires of war. And now we had a rat? Fury burned in my veins.

“Keep your eyes peeled, boys,” I called out over the rumbling engines. “We’re getting close.”

“Roger that, Hatter,” Cheshire grunted, his voice strained with tension.

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