A chill runs down my spine.
I've heard whispers about them before—not quite a biker club, not quite a street crew, but something in between.
I remember they’re affiliated with the Skulls Renegade MC.
"You got a safe place to stay?" Darius asks, his eyes scanning the street as if expecting my father to reappear.
I nod, trying to sound more confident than I feel. "Yeah, I'll head home now. I'll be fine."
"Watch your back," he warns, his tone serious. "Guys like that don't usually give up easy."
Don't I know it, I think bitterly.
Fifteen years of running, and here I am, right back where I started.
Darius studies my face, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "I might be crazy, but you look a lot like a woman who used to ride around with the Raiders of Valhalla."
My breath catches in my throat.
How does he know?
"I did," I admit softly, memories of my old life flooding back.
"Thought so." Darius nods. "Look, if trouble like this is following you around, maybe you should consider going back to your roots. There's safety in numbers, you know?"
I want to laugh.
Safety?
In the MC world?
But then again, hadn't I just been reminded of how dangerous the "normal" world could be?
At least with the club, I knew what I was dealing with.
"I'll... think about it," I say, my mind already racing with possibilities and fears.
I beeline it back to where I dropped the box and get my keys.
I can't stay in Atlanta.
Not now.
Not with him knowing where I am.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what comes next.
As I make my way to my car, parked just around the corner of the coffee shop, I pull out my phone.
My thumb hovers over Starla's contact for a moment before I hit call.
The familiar ringtone feels like a lifeline to the past I've tried so hard to forget.
"Hey, girl!" Starla's voice chirps through the speaker, "What's shakin'?"
I lean against my car, scanning the street nervously. "Star, I... I'm coming back home."
There's a pause, heavy with unspoken questions. "Home? As in...?"